Mister Cassowary by Samantha Wheeler Read Free Book Online

Peanut and, when he looked at me, he opened his beak wide, making a shrill cheeping sound.
    â€˜Here, have some apple,’ I whispered. I bit into it and threw small pieces onto the ground around me.
    Peanut dived forwards and pecked greedily, making apple juice spurt in the air. Jumble watched for a minute, then started pecking, too. Before long they’d eaten all the sultanas and all the apple, and then they pecked at my laces looking for more.
    â€˜Who’d be scared of you hey, Peanut?’ I asked as Peanut ran over my leg to chase a march fly. His claws left red scratches, but I didn’t care. ‘You can’t even catch a fly.’
    Jumble started digging in the soil where I’d just pulled out the weeds. He found a worm and tossed it into his beak. ‘That’s it, eat up,’ I encouraged, digging around looking for another. ‘Maybe I could help you find some proper food? The sort you’d eat if your real dad was here to show you how?’
    I found another worm and threw it out for Peanut. He gobbled it up, the end disappearing just as Jumble ran over to share. Jumble turned back, looking at me hungrily.
    â€˜I know. I’m sorry. It must be horrible without your dad. At least I have my mum when my dad’s not around. And I’m old enough to look after myself these days.’ I dug my fingers into the soil. ‘You guys are only babies. You need your dad to show you what to do.’
    Peanut was in the middle of scratching his neck when suddenly he stopped and cocked his head. Two seconds later, he and Jumble darted across the lawn and disappeared under the side fence.
    â€˜Don’t go!’ I shouted. I sighed and stared at my half-finished weeding. The sun was fully out now and, even though I was sitting in the shade, the temperature had quickly risen. Sweat prickled my forehead, and my left foot started to itch. I took off my shoes and gasped. Blood soaked my sock. I reached down to peel it off.
    â€˜What are you doing?’ said a voice.

‘Are you okay?’ Abby cried, flinging her bike down and peering worriedly at my foot.
    Blood oozed from a small hole on my ankle. ‘I had this slug-thing sucking my skin,’ I explained. ‘But it’s fallen off.’
    â€˜Show me,’ Abby commanded. ‘What slug?’
    I turned my crimson sock inside out. The slug wriggled free.
    â€˜Oh, it’s a leech.’ Abby giggled, pushing her hair from her eyes as the leech flip-flopped onto the grass. ‘No wonder there’s so much blood.’
    â€˜A leech?’
    â€˜They look terrible, but they’re pretty harmless really,’ said Abby. ‘Where did it come from?’
    I flicked my sock, just in case there was another one hiding in it. ‘It was on my foot this morning. Maybe it crawled into my sock yesterday when I was over there in the swamp.’ I pointed to the trees past the lawn.
    â€˜The swamp? I thought your dad didn’t let you out of his sight?’
    â€˜Yeah, well, he doesn’t know everything. Is it really a leech?’ I poked the slimy body with the end of a nearby stick.
    Abby rolled her eyes, like the question wasn’t worth answering. ‘Duh. Don’t you people from Brisbane know anything? Course it is. We get them all the time.’ Abby slid her legs into the splits and once she was all the way down on the grass, she held her arms out in front of her, like a ballet dancer. ‘So, what were you doing in the swamp?’ she asked.
    â€˜Nothing,’ I said, a little too quickly.
    â€˜I don’t believe you,’ she insisted, her eyes narrowing. ‘Why’s your face red?’
    I turned to hide my guilt. Was she always this bossy? ‘I found something, that’s all,’ I murmured.
    Abby fell out of the splits and sat up, turning her head to me as if she were balancing a crown.
    Over in the shed, I heard the tractor start up. Good. Dad would be busy