Benta warbled, *You could go down with Abitefa.*
“How you mean?” Tan-Tan strained to understand the warbling patwa.
*Is Abitefa alone time, last season and this next two. She leave she friends and she testing sheself every day in the bush. Go with she. The climbing go be good practice for you, and spending time with tallpeople is good practice for she for when she become a packbird. The two of allyou find and cook food while you down there. Abitefa go take care of you. So you go be spending time away from the douen-them who ain’t easy with having you here. Understand?*
It could work, maybe. “Yes, Benta; I understand. That sound good.”
But when Abitefa came for supper and Benta repeated the plan, the young hinte made a growling sound. Benta hissed something back; Abitefa spat out her reply in whistles sharp like glass. Benta screeched, stamping one foot on the ground. Her wings filled out one time. She beat them through the air, knocking one of Tan-Tan’s halwa fruit off the table. It broke open on the floor, spraying Tan-Tan’s ankles-them with the brown jelly inside.
“Chichibud, what them saying?” Tan-Tan asked.
“Not to worry. Abitefa go do what we tell she.”
Chichibud spoke to Benta and Abitefa slowly, calmly. Abitefa continued to protest. Chichibud and Benta cut her off. Benta cawed out once more. It sounded like a command.
“That settle that,” Chichibud said. “Abitefa go take you down in the bush whenever she go.”
Abitefa was making quiet skirling noises. It was clear she wasn’t looking forward to playing babysitter.
That night Tan-Tan filled up her belly on salad and leftover roast halwa fruit. Come time to sleep, she banded up her head again with the cloth Benta had give her. She curled up on the pallet and stared into the dark, praying for a peaceful sleep.
Prayers didn’t do no good, oui. Antonio chased her all night.
Abitefa jumped from the lowest branch of the daddy tree, about six metres up. She fell like a bullet, dipping her backwards-knees to land silently on the forest floor. She hadn’t even self jiggled the two kerosene lamps she was carrying. Tan-Tan clambered down to a buttress root, tried to balance along its top, lost her balance and slid the rest of the way. She landed braps on the ground, leaves tangling up in her hair. Abitefa barely even threw a glance her way. The hinte lit the two lamps-them, pushed one at Tan-Tan, then just turned her back and strode off into the bush. Her step was quiet like breeze passing. Tan-Tan struggled to her feet and rushed to follow Abitefa, crunching loud-loud through dead leaves with each step.
“Cho!” she muttered to herself. “You would think say me is the one with the foot big like shovel.” Somehow she managed to get her lamp lit as she scurried. She caught up with Abitefa standing by the passion fruit vine Tan-Tan had noticed the day before. The vine was heavy with ripe fruit, filling the air with their sweet, tart smell. Yesterday it hadn’t even had blossoms.
“What a way things does grow fast here,” she remarked to Abitefa. The hinte didn’t reply. Tan-Tan put down her lantern to free her hands. She picked all the ripe passion fruit she could reach. With her teeth she broke the smooth yellow rind of the last one. She sucked out the fragrant, tangy juice and swallowed the tiny black seeds. She thought of Toussaint.
She opened her eyes. Abitefa was gone. She couldn’t see her in the swallowing gloom, couldn’t hear her. She called her name. No answer.
She wandered round in the dark, peering through the circle of light from the lantern, calling for Abitefa, trying to bite back the panic that was fighting in her throat, threatening to spill out her mouth in a scream.
Calm down, Tan-Tan, she said to herself.
Stupid, said Bad Tan-Tan. You go dead from stupid one day. Cool down, girl. Remember what Chichibud tell you, your first day on New Half-Way Tree. How you does survive in the bush?
She stopped and stood still, calling back to mind Chichibud’s lessons. You have to learn to use all your senses; is that what he say.
Tan-Tan looked all round her, turning in a complete circle. No Abitefa. All she could hear was the rustling of the beasts and insects in the bush, going their own quiet ways. Nothing to taste that might help her, nothing to touch. Feeling like an idiot, she put her nose in the air and sniffed. And is what that you doing now? jeered Bad Tan-Tan. A chop-head chicken would have more sense. Nothing to smell but clean air. And the passion fruit juice on her hands. Huh. Maybe smell could work after all. Tan-Tan closed her eyes and drew in another long, deep breath. She smelled the salve that Benta had put on her bites and bruises this morning—like pine and mint. A heavy-sweet smell wafted through the air from over to her right, where the halwa tree was dropping its overripe fruit. Yesterday they were just ripening. The slight breeze was bringing her stories. She let out the breath, sucked in another. So, so faint, the odour of decay. She looked to where it was coming from. A thick clump of browny-pink fungus was growing, perhaps feeding on the body of a small dead beast.
And then she caught a thin thread of scent that didn’t quite belong in the bush. Is what that? She could almost recognise it…
Tan-Tan walked towards where the scent was coming from. It got a little stronger. What, what? Some kinda chemical. Ah. She smiled. She blew out her lantern, tiptoed as quietly as she could towards the smell. Just a few more metres, and round that big rockstone with the blue moss shining on it…
Abitefa was sitting on the ground, back against the big rockstone, using her teeth and wingfingertips to weave something out of vine. She barely glanced up when Tan-Tan stepped round the boulderstone. She’d probably heard Tan-Tan coming through the bush. Tan-Tan played it cool. She sat down beside Abitefa and pulled off one shoe. She shook a million-leg leaf-thing out of it and said, “Your lantern go out just now, ain’t? I smell the matches when you strike them.”
Abitefa’s shoulders shook with laughter. What the rass…? Oh, so is game she think it is? Tan-Tan coulda get eat by mako jumbie out there by herself in the dark, and this ugly ratbat think say is funny! Furious, Tan-Tan shoved Abitefa’s shoulder: “Bitch! You think is joke! Eh?”
One time, Abitefa rolled to her feet and crouched to face Tan-Tan, stretching out her nearly-wingflaps in a fighting stance, flexing her sharp claw tips-them. Abitefa made a threatening noise in her throat. But Bad, heedless Tan-Tan had come to the fore. She leapt at Abitefa, dragging her to the ground. The two of them crashed round in the leaf mould, each one trying to land a good blow. Tan-Tan boxed Abitefa in her ugly mouth; Abitefa bit Tan-Tan’s hand. Tan-Tan felt the skin tear, but rage flared higher than caution. She trapped one of Abitefa’s wingflap arms under one knee and slapped her face again. Abitefa screeched and drew back one of her big bird foot-them. She kicked Tan-Tan solid in her chest, sending her flying to land up against the big rockstone.
The blow made Tan-Tan dizzy. She tried to get up to go after Abitefa again, but her legs were wobbly beneath her. She felt her body inclining down, down to the ground. Is like it took forever till she was stretched out on the forest floor. Her head touched the leaf mould bed, soft like dreams.
Water trickled into Tan-Tan’s mouth, slightly acidic; daddy tree leaf juice. Before she came good into her senses a pungent smell jumped into her nose. She coughed and tried to sit up. Too-long fingers were touching her face. She grabbed at Abitefa’s arm and pushed it away. “Rahtid, woman; is what that you put under my nose?”