chapter4-page_66-86

Chapter 4.

Spring slowly changed into the long, hot days of summer.

The cicadas began singing once again.

The grapes hung warm in the vines.

The olive trees were heavy with fruit.

And on the orange trees, the fruit was turning from green to orange.

Up on the hills, butterflies danced, pausing now and then on a leaf to lay eggs.

The grasshoppers sang under my feet and flew across the land.

The mantids moved around lightly and carefully, looking for food.

In the evening, when it grew cooler, the cicadas stopped singing,

and the green tree frogs took their place.

They sat among the leaves and cried.

The sea was smooth, warm and dark.

Then suddenly the moon, enormous and red,

showed itself over the mountains and threw a blood -red path across the dark sea.

The owls appeared now, going from tree to tree silently and calling out

as the moon climbed higher and higher, turning to pink, then gold, then silver.

That summer I had a new teacher, Peter.

He was a tall, handsome young man who had just left Oxford University.

In the beginning, he had strict ideas of education, which I did not like.

But, slowly, the atmosphere of the island changed him,

and he became relaxed and easygoing.

At first the lessons were painful.

Endless struggles with fractions and percentages,

geological layers, nouns, verbs and adverbs.

But as the sunshine transformed Peter more and more,

he started thinking fractions and percentages were not such an important part of life.

He decided that the details of geographical layers could be much easily explained

while swimming along the coast.

And the simplest way of teaching me English was to get me to write something every day.

He had suggested a diary, but I told him I already kept a diary on nature.

I suggested I could try something different.

I suggested I write a book, and Peter agreed.

So, every morning I spent an hour adding a chapter to my book.

It was an adventure story about my family going on a world tour.

Each chapter ended in an exciting way.

Mother was attacked by a jaguar, or Larry fought an enormous python.

While I was working on my book, Peter and Margot would take long walks in the garden

to look at the flowers.

To my surprise, they had both become very much interested in plants and botany.

After the unfortunate event with the scorpion,

the family had given me a large room on the first floor to keep my animals in.

I called this room my study, and the rest of the family called it the bughouse.

I kept my natural history books, my diary, my microscope, instruments, nets,

collecting bags, and other important things there.

Large cardboard boxes held my bird's egg, beetle, butterfly, and dragonfly collections.

On the shelves were bottles full of interesting items, such as a four -legged chicken,

a present from Lugaretsia's husband, lizards, snakes, a baby octopus, three rats,

presents from Roger, and a tiny tortoise.

On the wall there was a piece of rock, with a fossilized fish,

and a photograph of me shaking hands with a chimpanzee.

I spent several nights out in the olive groves, trying to catch a bat to add to my collection.

I would wait for hours, but the bats flew by before I could catch one.

But, while waiting for a chance to catch a bat, I saw other night creatures.

I watched a young fox digging the earth for beetles on the hill.

One night, five jackals appeared out of the bushes,

paused and surprised at seeing me, and went back to the trees.

Another night, a pair of squirrels appeared in the tree above me, chasing each other.

I was so fascinated by those creatures that I decided to catch one.

The best time to search for them was the daytime, when they would be sleeping.

So, in the morning, I went through many holes in the olive trees to find them,

but it was hopeless.

However, my patience was rewarded when one day I was up on a tree.

I put my arm into a hole, and felt something small and soft.

It moved as I pulled it out.

It had a pair of enormous yellow eyes.

I looked closely, and realized it was an ugly little baby owl.

I laughed at his appearance, and the bird bit my thumb.

I lost my grip on the branch, and we fell down the tree together.

I took the unhappy owl at back home in my pocket, and introduced him to the family,

anxious that they may forbid me from keeping him.

To my surprise, nobody was against it.

So, I kept him in a basket in my study.

After much argument, we finally decided to name him Ulysses.

From the very beginning, Ulysses showed that he was a bird with a strong character.

Despite his small size, he was afraid of nothing, and would attack anything and everyone.

As we all had to share a room, I thought it would be a good idea to introduce him to Roger.

I put Ulysses on the floor, and told Roger to come and make friends.

Roger wagged his tail in a welcoming way, and approached Ulysses, who sat on the floor

with an unfriendly expression on his face.

He watched Roger's approach in a hostile way.

Roger became less confident.

Ulysses continued to stare, as though he was trying to hypnotize the dog.

Roger stopped, and looked at me for support.

I ordered him to continue.

Roger looked nervously at the owl, and walked around him, trying to approach him from the back.

However, Ulysses revolved his head to the back, keeping his eyes fixed on the dog.

Roger had never met a creature that could look behind itself without turning around.

He was confused, but continued to be nice.

He lay down on his stomach, put his head between his paws, and moved slowly towards the bird.

Ulysses lowered his eyelids, clicked his beak, and suddenly jumped into the air,

and dug his knife -like claws into the poor dog's nose.

Roger, with a cry, ran under the table, and refused to get out of there until Ulysses was put back into his basket.

When Ulysses grew older, he developed grey, red, and black feathers.

He was now too old to be kept in a basket, and I was strongly against the idea of a cage,

so I let him move freely around my study.

He carried out his flying lessons between the table and the door handle, and soon became very good at it.

He would spend the day sleeping on top of a cupboard.

As the sun went down, he would wake up.

He would yawn softly, stretch his wings, clean his tail, and shake his feathers violently.

He would then fly around the room, and then land on my shoulder.

He would sit there for a while, and bite my ear playfully.

He would wait for me to open the shutters, and as soon as I did so, he would fly into the night.

I would hear him go, pooh, pooh, which meant that Ulysses was about to start his hunting.

The length of time Ulysses spent on his hunts varied.

Sometimes he would return to the room in only an hour.

Sometimes he would be out all night, but wherever he went, he always came back between nine and ten for his supper.

If there was no light in my study, he would fly to the sitting room window and look inside to see if I was there.

If I was not there, he would fly to my bedroom window and knock his beak on the shutters until I opened them and served him supper.

Later, he would fly off again over to the treetops.

As Ulysses had proven that he was a fearless fighter, he became good friends with Roger.

If we were going for a late evening swim, he would sometimes come with us.

He would ride on Roger's back, clinging to the black wool.

If Roger forgot about his passenger and walked too fast, Ulysses would get mad,

flap his wings in order to keep his balance, and click his beak loudly.

When Roger and I went into the sea, Ulysses used to sit on my clothes on the beach.

If we spent too much time in the water, he would get bored and fly up the hill to the garden, crying.

In the summer, when the moon was full, the family would go swimming at night,

because during the day the sun was so fierce that the sea was not refreshing.

When the moon was up in the sky, we would walk down the trees to the dock by the water,

and climb on our little boat, the sea cow.

Larry, Peter, Margot, and Leslie would row the boat down the coast.

Roger and I would sit in the front to see where we were going.

When we reached the small bay with white sand and a few rocks that were ideal for sitting on,

we would anchor the boat in deep water and jump into the sea.

When tired, we swam to the shore and looked up at the stars.

After half an hour, I would get tired by the conversation and would swim back to the deep water,

where I lay on my back, looking up at the moon.

One night, I was lying in the water, looking at the beautiful milky way.

I could hear the voices of the others laughing and talking on the beach, echoing over the water.

Floating on the water, relaxed and dreamy, I suddenly felt the movement of something quite

close to me in the water.

Quickly, I turned to see how far I had come and found that I was quite far from the beach

and our boat.

I was not sure what kind of creature was swimming around me in the dark.

I was feeling more and more uncomfortable and was just about to call for help when a little

appears in the surface of the water.

I heard it gently breathing and then it went under again.

I had just recognized it was a porpoise.

When I found out I was in the middle of a group of porpoises.

They were swimming around me, rising to the surface for air.

There must have been eight of them, and one came so close to me that I could have touched

his head.

They played in the water and I swam with them for a while,

watching them in a fascinated way.

Then, as if obeying a signal, they turned and swam off towards the remote coast of Albania.

I watched them go, swimming with their shiny backs under the moonlight, leaving behind a

path of bubbles.

As the summer grew hotter and hotter, we decided it was difficult to row the sea cow, so we

bought an engine for it.

The acquisition of this machine opened up a vast area for us.

We could now go much further on the coastline.

In one of our trips, I discovered a group of very small islands, some as small as big rocks.

The islands were home to diverse sea creatures.

I convinced my family to make several trips to the islands.

But because there were not many places to swim in the area, they soon got bored with the place.

The islands were also very close to the coast, and there were many rocks in the water, so

reaching there by boat was quite challenging.

Our trips there became less and less frequent, and it became painful for me to think about

all the wonderful animal life that I could not observe.

I needed a boat.

Then, I had a brilliant idea.

My birthday was coming soon, and, if I played my cards right, I could get a boat and maybe

some equipment too.

I suggested to the family that I could tell them what I wanted most, instead of them choosing

my presence.

The family were a little surprised, but they agreed.

They asked me what I wanted.

I told them I would make a separate list for each person.

My list took a lot of time, and a lot of thinking.

I knew Mother would buy me everything on her list, so I put down the most necessary and

expensive equipment.

Five wooden boxes to keep my insect collection in.

Two dozen test tubes, some alcohol to put the dead animals in, and a microscope.

Margot's list was a little more difficult, so I would have to ask for things that would

require going to her favorite shop.

Lots of white fabric, six packets of pins, cotton wool, and a pair of forceps.

I knew Larry would only get me books, so his list included many history books.

I only had one item left for Leslie, so I decided not to write it on paper, but ask him in person.

I knew I had to choose my moment carefully.

The right moment came a few days later.

That day, he had been making some experiments with explosives, and I had been helping him.

After the fourth trial, the experiment was successful.

Leslie was very pleased, and made notes in his book.

While we were busy picking up the remains from the explosion, I casually asked him what he

wanted to give me for my birthday.

I didn't really think about it, he replied absently.

I don't mind, anything you like, you choose.

I want a boat, I said without a pause.

Leslie realized he had been tricked.

But a boat is a very large present for a birthday, he said, and I can't afford it anyway.

But you told me to choose anything I wanted.

Yes, but I didn't mean a boat, said Leslie.

Boats are very expensive.

But when one says anything, one means anything, including boats, I said.

Anyway, I don't expect you to buy a boat.

Since you know so much about boats, maybe you can build me one.

But if you think it is too difficult, of course it's not difficult, said Leslie.

Well, not very difficult, but it would take a very long time to build a boat.

Look, instead of building a boat, I could take you out in the sea cow twice a week.

No, I can wait, I said.

Oh, alright, alright, said Leslie, finally giving up.

I'll build you a boat, but you can't be around when I do it, understand?

You can't see it until it's finished.

Happily, I agreed.

The next two weeks, I saw Spiro bring a lot of wood to the house,

and heard the sounds of sawing and hammering from the back veranda.

The day before my birthday, the family went into town.

They wanted to purchase my presents.

Also, they had to buy food and drinks for my birthday party.

We had agreed that we would not invite a lot of people, so ten guests would be enough.

After deciding this, everyone invited ten people.

Unfortunately, they didn't invite the same ten people.

Only Theodore was invited by everyone.

So, the day before the party, mother discovered that we were going to have not ten, but forty -six guests.

Another reason for going into town was to take Lugaretsia to the dentist.

The dentist had said she had to have all her teeth out, but she had refused to go.

We convinced her by promising to go with her for moral support.

We returned from town in the evening, exhausted and irritable.

The car was full of food, and Lugaretsia was lying across our laps, moaning in pain.

It was obvious that she would not be able to help with the cooking the next day.

We asked Spiro for a solution, and he gave his usual answer.

Don't you worry, he said, leaves everything to me.

The following morning was quite crazy.

Lugaretsia felt a little better, so she followed us around the house, showing us her mouth, and describing her pain in detail.

I received my presents from the family and thanked them.

I then went to the back veranda with Leslie, where he showed me my last present.

Leslie removed the cover, and there lay my boat.

I was overjoyed.

It was the most perfect boat anyone had ever had.

It was two meters long, and almost circular in shape.

The pieces of wood were too short, so the boat came out short and fat, explained Leslie.

I think it's a lovely shape for a boat, I said.

It's not slim and unfriendly looking like other boats.

It's like a friendly little beetle.

The bottom had to be flat, said Leslie, and gave some technical reasons for this.

I like flat -bottomed boats best, I said, because I can put my jars on the floor.

Do you like the colors of the boat?

asked Leslie, because I wasn't sure about the colors.

In my opinion, the best thing about the boat is its colors, I said happily.

The boat was green and white inside, while outside it was painted in white, black, and orange stripes.

Enthusiastically, I suggested putting the boat in water at once.

Leslie said we couldn't do that without naming it.

This was a difficult problem, so the whole family were called out to help.

They gathered around the boat and came up with ideas for a name.

Why not call it the Jolly Roger, suggested Margot?

I rejected this and said that I wanted a fat name that would go with the boat's appearance and personality.

Arbuckle, suggested mother.

That wasn't good either.

The boat didn't look like an arbuckle.

Call it the Ark, said Leslie, but I shook my head.

There was another silence while we all stared at the boat.

Suddenly, I had the perfect name, Boodle.

Very nice, dear, approved mother.

I was just about to suggest bum -trinket, said Larry.

Larry, dear, mother said, don't teach the boy things like that.

I thought about Larry's suggestion.

It was an unusual name, and so was Boodle.

They both matched the shape and personality of the boat.

I made up my mind.

I got some black paint and wrote the name along the side.

The Boodle bum -trinket.

We had found a name, so it was time to put the boat in water.

Margot, Peter, Leslie, and Larry carried it down the hill to the dock.

After struggling for half an hour, we were able to land the boat into the sea.

We spent another half hour getting the mast in.

In the process, Peter had fallen into the water in the formal suit he was wearing for the party.

We managed to pull him out, but his suit was ruined.

Margot took him to the house to get it dry before the party.

The rest of us followed, still arguing.

After lunch, Spiro arrived.

He had brought a tall, elderly man with him.

Spiro explained that the man used to be King of Greece's butler,

and had come to help us with the party.

Spiro sent everyone out of the kitchen, and he and the butler shut themselves in there.

The first guest to arrive was Theodore, with his best suit on, and his boots polished.

He had a parcel in his hand.

Aha! Happy birthday!

He said, shaking my hand.

I've brought you a small... er... gift.

I opened the parcel, and found a fat volume of life in ponds and streams.

It was just what I needed.

I think you will find it useful, said Theodore.

It contained some very interesting information on... er... freshwater life.

Slowly the guests arrived, and the front of the villa was full of taxis and carriages.

The rooms were full of people, talking and arguing and laughing.

The butler, wearing a tailcoat, moved through the crowd, serving drinks and food with a kingly air.

Down in the kitchen, Spiro was cooking excitedly.

We could hear him sing in a deep voice.

More and more guests arrived, and with them came presents.

To me, most of them were useless, because they were not related to natural history work.

The best presents were, in my opinion, two puppies brought by a peasant family.

One puppy was red and white, and the other was cold black.

Roger looked at them with suspicion and interest.

So, I decided to lock them all in the dining room, so that they would all get to know one another.

This was not a good idea.

When we opened the door sometime later, we found Roger sitting unhappily on the floor.

The puppies jumping around him, and the room in a mess.

The puppies had been eating the party food and had trashed the room.

Larry suggested they be called Whittle and Puke, and although Mother was against it, the names remained.

Guests continued to come, filling the villa with noise and laughter.

Some of them enjoyed themselves so much that they went home and returned with the rest of their families.

In one corner, Fyodor was dancing the Kalamatiano, with Leslie and several other people.

The butler, who was so carried away by the sight of the national dance, that he put his tray down and joined in,

jumping up and down and crushing his feet on the ground.

It was dawn when we stood at the front door, waving our hands to the last of the guests.

Later, as I lay in bed with Roger at my feet and a puppy each side of me, I looked through the window at the sky,

watching the pink spread on the olive trees.

I thought that it had been an extremely good birthday party.

Very early the next morning, I packed my collecting equipment and some food, and with Roger, Whittle and Puke,

set off on a journey in the bootle bum trinket.

The sea was calm, the sky was blue, the sun was shining, and there was a very soft breeze.

It was a perfect day.

The joy of having your own boat.

The pleasant feeling you get as you row the boat and feel it push forward.

The excitement of moving through the reefs that shone just beneath the surface of the sea.

That first voyage was incomparable to the many other voyages I would take in the bootle bum trinket.

The sea seemed bluer and clearer, and the islands seemed more remote and fascinating than ever before.

I approached the little islands and stopped rowing.

Roger and I lay down on the floor and looked down into the water,

observing the amazing sea life beneath us.

As the summer came to an end, I needed a new teacher again.

Mother had discovered that Margot and Peter were becoming too close, so Peter was sent away.

When he left suddenly, we had to look after Margot, who was acting the part of the sad and depressed young woman,

dressed in black and crying all the time.

We did our best to gently calm her down.

Margot, with tears running down her face, made tragic gestures and told us that she was destroyed.

Spiro, who loved a dramatic situation, spent his time weeping in sympathy with Margot

and telling his friends to make sure that Peter did not attempt to get back on the island.

After a while, when we thought things had calmed down, Margot got a note from Peter, saying he would return for her.

Margot panicked and showed the note to Mother.

She locked herself in the attic and would not see anyone except me, because I was the only member of the family who had not taken sides.

She lay there reading love poetry, and I carried up large meals, and she ate them up hungrily.

She stayed in the attic for a week and eventually came out.

After this, Margot preferred to be alone by herself.

She started disappearing for long periods, taking only the dogs with her.

Autumn had come, and the fierce winds had begun.

She decided that the ideal place for her to be alone was a small island in the bay opposite the house.

One day, she borrowed the bootle bum trinket without my permission.

Put the dogs into it and set off to the island to lie in the sun and think.

It was not until the afternoon that I discovered where my boat and Margot had gone.

Angry and annoyed, I told Mother where she had gone.

I was worried about my boat.

By now the wind was getting stronger, and Mother ran up the stairs to the bedroom window and looked out to the bay with the binoculars.

Lugaretsia also went upstairs, crying, and the two of them kept going from window to window to see the bay.

The waves were growing and the wind was rising.

Mother wanted to send someone to rescue Margot, but there was no one available.

All she could do was sit at the window with the binoculars glued to her eyes,

while Lugaretsia prayed loudly and told Mother the story of her uncle who had been drowned in such a wind.

Fortunately, Mother could not understand much of what she was saying.

Apparently, Margot finally decided that she should start for home before the wind became worse.

We saw her walk to where the bootle bum trinket was and pull out the ropes that tied the boat to the bay.

She was slow and incompetent.

She fell down twice and then ended up 50 meters away from the boat.

She moved around in circles for some time, looking for it.

Eventually, Rogers' barks helped her find the boat.

Then she had great difficulty in getting whittle and puke into it.

They had never been in rough sea, so they refused to get inside.

Finally managing to get them in the boat, she jumped in and started rowing.

She rode for some time before realizing that she had not untied the boat.

Mother watched Margot across the bay breathlessly.

Being a small boat, the bootle bum trinket was not always visible.

And every time it disappeared, Mother would panic.

Then it would appear once again on a wave and Mother would breathe again.

Margot steered the boat in all directions, once even towards Albania.

She would stand on her feet unsteadily and look around the horizon to see where she was going.

Finally, the boat reached the bay and was close enough for us to shout instructions at her.

We all went down to the dock and yelled, trying to make ourselves heard in the hiss and splash of the waves and the roar of the wind.

Margot reached the shore and hit the dock with such force that she almost knocked Mother off into the sea.

The dogs climbed out and ran up the hill to the house.

They were scared that we might make them ride in the boat with the same captain.

When we brought Margot back home, she told us the reason why she had acted so strangely in the boat.

She had fallen into a deep sleep under the fierce sun, and three hours later, when she was woken by the noise of the wind,

her eyes were so puffy and swollen that she could hardly see anything.

The wind and the seawater made it worse, and by the time she reached the dock, she could see almost nothing.

Really, Margot, I sometimes wonder if you're crazy, said Mother, as she bathed Margot's eyes with cold tea.

You do the most stupid things.

Oh, Mother, you exaggerate, said Margot. It could have happened to anyone.

But this incident seemed to cure her broken heart.

She no longer took walks alone or went out on the boat by herself.

Winter came to the island very slowly.

The sky was still clear, the sea blew in calm, and the sun warm.

The golden red leaves whispered among themselves.

It was as if they were preparing for something and were discussing it excitedly.

The birds, too, gathered in little groups, puffing out their feathers, twittering thoughtfully.

There was an air of expectancy, like a great big audience was waiting for the curtain to go up.

Then one morning, you looked out of the window and saw that winter had arrived,

for the mountains in the distance were covered in snow.

For a week or so, the wind played with the island.

Then there was silence and calm for a few days, and suddenly, the wind would be back.

This time it was mad and fierce.

The blue sky disappeared, and grey clouds came over the island.

The sea turned deep blue and was covered in foam.

Rain followed wind.

The rivers up in the mountains were full now, and they flowed into the sea.

So the dark blue waters were now filled with mud and sticks,

logs and other things that got carried.

Finally, spring arrived.

The island was sparkling with flowers.

Lams were running around under the olives.

Baby donkeys were eating the flowers.

The first butterflies were fluttering weekly among the flowers.

In this cool uplifting weather, the family spent most of their time on the veranda,

eating, sleeping, reading, or just simply arguing.

We would get together here once a week and read the letters that Spiro had brought to us.

The mail generally consisted of gun catalogues for Leslie,

fashion magazines for Margot, and animal journals for me.

Larry's post usually contained long letters from authors, artists, and musicians.

Mother received letters from various relatives and some seed catalogues.

As we read, we would frequently make comments or read aloud parts.

Oh, this is nice.

Look, a very nice dress.

I think I would refer it in red though, or maybe a nice floral design.

It would look good with a hat, wouldn't it?

A pause.

The sound of Roger yawning, followed by puke and wittle yawning.

What a beautiful gun.

Just look at it.

Um, 150?

Not really expensive.

Now this is good value.

Roger scratched his ears, twisted his head, and groaned gently.

Wittle laid down and closed his eyes.

puke tried to catch a fly.

Ah, Antoine's poem is published at last.

He is really talented.

Oh, George is trying to paint portraits.

He can't even paint a candlestick.

Here, mother, this is a good book you should read.

Roger watched a butterfly go by.

Wittle was having a dream.

puke lay down and pretended to be asleep, waiting for the right moment to catch the fly.

Ant Mabel has moved to Sussex.

She says her son has passed all his exams.

Uncle Stefan's broken his leg, poor dear.

Mother always left a fat letter the last.

It was great Ant Hermione's monthly letter.

Her letters always created heated discussions among the family.

So we would all put our mail aside and listen while mother read her letters.

She says the doctors don't have much hope for her, said mother.

They haven't had hope for her for the last 40 years, and she's still alive, said Larry.

She says she was surprised by the way we ran off to Corfu, but they've had a bad winter,

and she thinks it was wise of us to choose a healthy climate.

Oh, I agree it was wise of us.

Oh, my God.

Oh, no.

What's the matter?

She says she wants to come and stay.

The doctors have advised a warm climate.

No, I refuse.

I couldn't bear it, shouted Larry, standing up.

It's bad enough dealing with Lugaretsia's health complaints.

You'll have to say no, mother.

Tell her there's no room in the house.

But I can't, dear.

I told her in the last letter what a big villa we had.

She's probably forgotten, said Leslie hopefully.

She hasn't.

She mentions it here.

As you now seem to afford such a big house, you wouldn't mind giving a small corner to

an old woman who does not have much longer to live.

See?

What are we going to do?

Write and tell her we've got a disease on the island.

And send her a photograph of Margot's acne, suggested Larry.

Don't be silly, dear.

Besides, I already told her how healthy it is here.

Really, mother, it's your fault, exclaimed Larry angrily.

I was looking forward to a nice quiet summer with just a few friends.

Now great Aunt Hermione will invade the house?

Can't one of us write and say you're ill, suggested Margot?

I'll write the letter, said Larry.

You won't do that, said mother firmly.

If you did that, she'd come right away to look after me.

Well, there's only one thing left to do then, said Larry.

What's that?

Asked mother, looking over her glasses.

Move to a smaller villa, then you can write and tell her we don't have any room.

Don't be stupid Larry, we can't keep moving.

We moved here in order to cope with your friends.

Well, now we'll have to cope with the relatives.

But we can't keep moving around the island, people will think we are crazy.

There's nothing crazy about changing villas, said Larry.

It's a perfectly logical thing to do.

Of course it is, agreed Leslie.

Be sensible mother, said Margot.

After all, a change is always a good thing.

And so we moved.