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Super-Nature Stars By Tania Crampton-Larking UśśƵơƭƙóƭĞė ďǔ (Ƶď jĞȈĞƙ

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contents Chapter 1 Sweaty socks

Chapter 2 Dusty work

Chapter 3 Big mess

Chapter 4 Fly away

Chapter 5 True treasures

Glossary

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Dedication For my family, my inspiration

Acknowledgement of Country Oxford University Press acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the many lands on which we create and share our learning resources. We acknowledge the Traditional Owners as the original storytellers, teachers and students of this land we call Australia. We pay our respects to Elders, past and present, for the ways in which they have enabled the teachings of their rich cultures and knowledge systems to be shared for millennia. Warning to First Nations Australians Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples are advised that this publication may include images or names of people now deceased.

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chapter 1 Sweaty socks

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family

lift Jarrah’s little cocoa arm away from his face. “Better get up now,” I warn him. “We’re being blasted by the hottest heatwave in yonkidonks!” I move in close to check if Jarrah is still breathing. Bam! His vegie breath hits me. “I was awake! Tricked you, Uncle Denny!” he yells. Jarrah is my five-year-old nephew. He’s staying with me and Mum this summer holidays, while his mum and dad are away working in a community out bush. I might be Jarrah’s uncle, but I’m only ten and more like a brother to him. “Yeah, you had me fooled, minya man. Time to get ready for the beach. It’s going to be way over-the-top hot today.” “Like Venus?” Clever Jarrah has remembered my school project. “Almost. But don’t worry, no smelly Venus fireballs or molten lava at our beach. Just scorching rays of sunlight zapping your skin and making the sand sizzle.” 6

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I tell Jarrah again that I’m not going to the beach with him today. I’m helping Aunty Yanyi instead. Aunty’s house needs a good clean and I said I’d do it. I’m being a good little nephew, a good little great-nephew. “Oh, poor you! She’s horrible, unna?” says Jarrah. “No, she’s awesome—a respected Elder. She’s Mum’s aunt, my great-aunt and your great-great-aunt.” “But her house isn’t great. Her roof is haunted!” “Yeah, but she’s got a sundial. Uncle Tom discovered it half-buried behind Aunty’s water tank.” Uncle Tom is Mum’s brother. I explain that he’s a plain uncle, not a great one. Then I start playing a trick on Jarrah. “The sundial is spooky. It doesn’t just tell the time, it messes with time. It sends you back to the olden days, back to really ancient days, when gumtrees grew all over the land where our city is built now. Sometimes © Tania Crampton-Larking

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family Great Aunty Yanyi uses its magical power on visitors.” “No, Denny, don’t go there!” Jarrah cries, and clings to me. Then he tries to climb onto my back. I shake my head. “OK, hide-and-seek. Find me!” he shouts, and speeds off. I do a few stretches to loosen up my long legs. I’ve noticed a fantastic increase in my height, now that I’m almost eleven years old. “I can catch you, too easy!” I yell. I hear Jarrah scream. He rushes from his hiding place to Mum, who is busy making a huge picnic in the kitchen—for their trip to the beach, I guess. Lucky Jarrah. “Uncle Denny is being a meanie. Tell him off, peas!” “Bub, you’ll be fine,” Mum says. “Just tell Denny to put a sock in it.” “OK, this one.” Giggling, Jarrah peels off his sweat-soaked socks and hurls one at my head. It messes up my slick, dark hair. 8 Super-Nature Stars.pdf 8

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“Ouchie! Oh no! I can’t go to Great Aunty Yanyi’s now,” I cry, with classic acting skills. “What’s wrong with you, Denny?”Aunty Yanyi has turned up at the back door to collect me. She steps into the kitchen and gives Jarrah and Mum the biggest, squishiest hugs, but just pats me on the head. That’s probably because I look like a big man, with my arms crossed. “My goodness, you boys have grown tall,” she says. “Not as tall as me!” says Uncle Tom, who has just whacked his head on the back door frame. He’s always hurting his noggin that way. Uncle Tom has caught a ride to our place with Aunty. “Are you and Jarrah ready to head off to the beach yet?” he asks Mum. His bushy white moustache bobs up and down while he speaks. “Please don’t be in such a rush, Tom,” Mum replies. “We’ll let Denny and Aunty go first.” © Tania Crampton-Larking

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family A warm breeze starts blowing: ooooOOOOOOOoooooo. It pushes open the back-door flyscreen. “Peas be careful at Aunty Yanyi’s,” Jarrah whispers. “I’ll probably get stuck in ancient history forever,” I say. “No!” cries Jarrah. And then he tries to stuff both of his socks in my mouth.

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chapter 2 Dusty work

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unty Yanyi bought her minya, teensyweensy purple car in the 1960s. She likes to keep old things that don’t work properly. Mum says she’s stuck in the past. I squash myself into the front passenger seat. How does Uncle Tom ever fit in here? I wonder. “Denny, aren’t you lovely, wanting to help me with boring cleaning today—while your Mum and Jarrah and Tom enjoy a nice, cool swim at the beach,” says Aunty. I nod and pull my baseball cap down low. It’s useful for hiding grouchy eyes. I really don’t mind helping Aunty, but it’s my birthday tomorrow. I’m too excited for housework. I can’t wait to catch up with my friends. Aunty Yanyi slides her glasses on, making silver hairs stick out like echidna spikes around the yellow frames. When she starts the car, it shudders in a bad way and crawls from the kerb. Aunty keeps smiling. 12

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“You alright there, Denny? Let’s see. I’m sure this old piece of junk can reach the speed limit.” Aunty starts burning up the road, and I start feeling worried. There’s a fly trapped in the car with us and the buzzing is making me feel worse. I wonder if the fly’s teeny heart is beating as fast as mine. I gulp a few times, trying not to throw up. I focus on the ghost gums I can see through the windscreen as we zoom along the road. When we finally reach Aunty’s house, we grind to a stop at the start of her driveway. I jump out. While Aunty Yanyi fusses over her broken-down car, I stretch my cramped legs and stare towards the house. Whoa! Weeds have grown even wilder since the last time I visited. Then Aunty and I escape the heat and go indoors. I am happily surprised. We walk into a very clean and tidy lounge room, with

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family the same old bamboo chairs, frayed mats and funny knick-knacks that I like. “So, Aunty, what exactly do you need help with?” I ask. “My back is getting worse, bub. I can hardly climb the stairs anymore. Could you start by sweeping the spare bedrooms? It’s gotten so dusty up there.” Aunty hands me a broom and a bag of rags. I nod like a hard worker. Then I head up, leaving a giant footprint in the dust on each step. I slow down and pretend to hover as I climb—an astronaut stepping over the surface of the moon. When I reach the top, I let out a riproaring sneeze that almost brings the old ceiling down. Mega dust-balls are rolling over the hallway floor. Spindly spiders are running amok. I go into the first room and sweep everything in it, including the bed and its woollen, cobwebby blanket. Then I go through all the other rooms upstairs. 14 Super-Nature Stars.pdf 14

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But after half an hour of work, they don’t look any better. In fact, they look worse. The air is thick with dust now. I really need a space-age, super-suction vacuum cleaner, not an old-fashioned broom. Whoa! Something starts rattling around in the roof. I run downstairs fast—not because I’m scared, but because I like to move quickly. I rush outside to where the air is clear. It feels nice, until I look at the weeds again. I think about Mum’s pretty yard, where parrots fly and carrots grow. OK, I say to myself. I will make this place as cute as Mum’s. I wrap some old rags around my hands and start yanking weeds. I pull and rip, pull and rip—what a never-ending chore. Weeds pile up, but each time I stop to look the pile is always smaller than I expected. I’ve been pulling up weeds for ages, but it looks as though I’ve done almost nothing at all. There’s too much for one person to do out here. © Tania Crampton-Larking

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family Then I spot the sundial. I clear away the overgrowth and study it. The sundial is a flat stone circle sitting on the ground, with an arm poking up from the centre. I should be able to tell the hour by looking at where the arm’s shadow falls. But there is no shadow. A huge flock of birds is flying in front of the sun, blocking it for a moment. “Weird,” I say out loud. “Incredible. Wow, oh, wow!” Suddenly, sunshine pours down again and I see that it’s almost two o’clock. My mind is buzzing. I’m going to tell Jarrah a story about it: When you’re not watching, weeds wrap around your ankles and slowly pull you into the sundial. Then the sun goes dark. You start spinning and then whizzing through time. That’s what happened to Uncle Tom. And that’s how his hair turned white—from shock. He got stuck in the Jurassic period. He was dodging and dribbling his basketball around dinosaurs, until the sundial 16 Super-Nature Stars.pdf 16

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pulled him back! When Aunty Yanyi wants to be wicked, she sends annoying visitors—like whiney five-year-old boys—out to fetch water from the tank, right beside the sundial. Then her weeds start their creepy creeping ... I’m making up all kinds of tales to tell my nephew, when I hear something rustle in the weeds. Snakes! I run inside—not because I’m scared, but because I know snakes love being left alone.

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