Josefa and the Vu E-Book

Tulia Thompson

• Herausgeber: Huia Publishers
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 213

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

When Josefa is met by a giant mysterious warrior claiming to be an ancestral guardian spirit, everything gets chaotic. Meanwhile Jack Bucksworth, the school bully, has stolen his family's sacred tabua and to get it back, Josefa and his friend Ming must embark on a terrifying adventure involving dangerous cliffs, cheeky brothers and eerie laughter. This gripping adventure story will appeal to children aged 7 - 12 years.

Leseprobe

JOSEFA AND THE VU

Tulia Thompson

Contents

Title PageChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveAcknowledgementsForthcoming Young Adult Titles from Huia PublishersCopyright

CHAPTER ONE

Josefa ran faster. He could hear his heart beating against his chest and sweat was beginning to slide down his t-shirt. He looked down at his chubby body and wished he could move more quickly. ln three minutes the bell would ring and he’d be late for the first day back at school.

‘Good luck bro!’ his brother Timoci called out cheekily, before whizzing past him on his bike. Timoci was fit and fast. He had even further to go to get to intermediate school, but Josefa felt sure he’d manage to cycle there in time.

Josefa reached the field and he could see some other kids running in the distance. Maybe he would make it. The bell rang and Josefa stopped short, puffing loudly. There was no point running now, the hall doors would already be shut.

It wasn’t the best start to a new term.

He had been woken that morning by Timoci bouncing his basketball down the hallway. The ball crashed loudly against the walls. Timoci was crazy about basketball. He wanted to get so good he would be chosen for the NBA in America. Josefa didn’t think there was much of a chance, but Timoci talked about it like it was a sure thing.

Josefa pulled himself out of bed. He could hear Mosesi and Solomone arguing in the kitchen. He knew Mum was still asleep after working a late shift the night before and Dad would have left early to get to the factory. As usual, Mosesi and Solomone were left in charge of getting their younger brothers ready for school.

‘Oh man, why’d you have to eat all the cereal, you eat like a vawuca, like a pig,’ laughed Solomone. Mum and Dad were always telling him off for clowning around. The only thing he was serious about was sport.

‘Watch your mouth! I have to eat like that, that’s how come I can captain the first fifteen, that’s how come I’m so much faster than you, mokusiga.’ Mosesi was pretty serious. He wanted to be an All Black.

‘That’s only because I’m fourteen and you’re sixteen, fool! When I’m your age I’ll be twice as fast as you, that’s what Dad says.’

‘Dad didn’t say that,’ Mosesi replied hotly.

‘Did too.’

‘Did not.’

‘Did too.’

Even though they wouldn’t admit it, Mosesi and Solomone, the eldest, were very alike. They looked similar, too. Tall and solid like their dad. Timoci was closest to Josefa, a best friend as well as a brother. He liked telling jokes and playing tricks on people. Recently though, he seemed more interested in playing sports with his older brothers.

Josefa rushed into the kitchen. ‘What time is it?’ he called.

‘8.45,’ Timoci replied absentmindedly, still bouncing the ball.

‘Why didn’t you wake me up?’ Josefa grumbled. He was already running late.

His brothers just looked at him, but he could tell by their goofy grins that they thought it was quite funny that he had slept in.

‘You can always go to school like that,’ Solomone said, pointing to Josefa’s pyjamas, but Josefa was far too busy running for the shower to listen.

Josefa crept towards the hall door, his heart still thudding. He pushed on the door softly, hoping he could slip in without everybody looking at him. But it creaked loudly and he saw a wave of faces turning to watch him. Mrs Bulls, the principal, was glowering at him. She had short grey hair, like a poodle, and was wearing a navy skirt and jacket with an ugly gold brooch. Josefa noticed the blue eye shadow creeping into the lines around her narrowed grey eyes.

‘Do you have a note to explain your lateness, Josefa Naibula?’ she asked.

‘No, sorry, Miss’ he mumbled.

‘Excuse me Josefa, I don’t believe I heard your answer.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t have a late note, Mrs Bulls,’ Josefa said, wishing he could sink through the floor.

‘I believe you mean you’re sorry for being late,’ said Mrs Bulls sharply. Some of the kids laughed.

‘Well, that will be a lunchtime pick-up. You can meet me in Room One at 12.30 exactly.’ She signalled for him to sit down and continued her speech about the new term.

Josefa had been told last year that he would be in Miss Pholi’s class and he saw her standing next to the row of children who would be his new classmates. Miss Pholi was wearing a bright pink sari and a lot of gold bracelets around her wrist. She kept leaning forward onto her toes and rocking back onto her heels and Josefa wondered if she was bored with Mrs Bull’s speech as well. He looked down the line of kids to see if any of his friends had been put in the same class. Sitting next to Matthew Pheasant and Connor Blakely was Jack Bucksworth. Josefa groaned. He could see Jack whispering to Connor when the teacher wasn’t looking. Jack had red-blonde hair, pale blue eyes and dark brown freckles. He was wearing a blue singlet and had tan lines on his arms. The back of his neck was slightly red with sunburn. Last year Jack used to tease Josefa and call him ‘fatty’ or ‘fat-boy’. He wasn’t even in the same class. Connor Blakely was a tall skinny boy with bright blonde hair. He was smiling widely and looking around to make sure everyone could see that Jack had chosen him as his friend. Then Connor noticed Josefa looking at him. He whispered to Jack, and they both turned around and sniggered.

Josefa turned back towards Mrs Bulls, trying to ignore them. A high-pitched giggling seemed to rise up from the back of the room and Josefa turned sharply. What kid would dare to make a noise like that in assembly? None of the other kids seemed to have noticed. In fact, Mrs Bulls just kept talking. The giggling didn’t stop. It got louder, changing into a gruff chuckle. Josefa looked at the teachers standing by their class rows at the side of the hall, but none of them tried to find out where the noise was coming from. He looked back at Jack and Connor. Maybe they were making the noise, trying to tease him. Maybe Jack had some new expensive electronic toy that could make noises like that. Connor was just staring off into space, but Jack’s face was scrunched up into a scowl. His hands were pressed firmly against his ears and his face was going bright red. Josefa realised with a shock that, whatever the noise was, Jack could hear it too. In fact, judging by his expression, Jack was finding it more annoying than Josefa was.

When the lunch bell rang, Josefa walked to Room One dragging his feet. Mrs Bulls was already there, standing with her arms folded in front of her.

‘Well, Josefa,’ she said abruptly, ‘at our morning staff meeting your kind teacher, Miss Pholi, pointed out that lunchtime pick-up might not be in line with our healthy children policy. She feels strongly that lunchtime is for eating lunch. It seems Miss Pholi believes that eating lunch is more important than conservation and preventing pollution.’

Josefa doubted that Miss Pholi would actually have said something like that.

‘My intention,’ continued Mrs Bulls, ‘was not to stop you from eating your lunch. You understood that, didn’t you Josefa?’

Josefa looked down at his shoelaces.

‘Now, seeing as Miss Pholi is so concerned with your health,’ said Mrs Bulls with what looked like the glimmer of a smile, ‘I’ve decided that instead of picking up rubbish, you can run around the school field three times. Then you can go and eat your lunch.’ She looked at Josefa triumphantly.

When Josefa got to the field he looked back and saw Mrs Bulls watching him from the Room One window. The sun beamed down on him like a heavy coat as he started his slow circle of field. He wished that he had some of the natural sporting ability of his three older brothers, instead of being the odd one out. They could do this easily.

The grass was thin and dead on top of the baked earth and the ground felt hard beneath him. As he rounded the side of the field he noticed some kids staring at him from the jungle gym. ‘There goes fat-boy,’ laughed Jack Bucksworth from the swing bridge. ‘Fat boy! Fat boy!’ chorused Connor and Matt. Josefa felt totally humiliated. He looked up at Mrs Bulls, but of course she couldn’t hear anything from inside the classroom. He kept on running.

On the second circuit he was feeling okay. Sure, he could feel sweat beginning to burst out on his forehead and his thighs rubbing uncomfortably, but most of the kids had got bored watching. They were getting on with their own lunchtime games. When he saw he was once again approaching Jack and Connor, he tried not to look at them. He looked down the field and kept running. ‘Fat-boy needs a new name,’ Jack announced loudly, ‘from now on we’re going to call him Chubster!’

‘Chubster!’ echoed Connor, pretending to fall on the ground laughing.

Josefa felt blood rushing to his face, and the slow ache of stitch creeping across his side. One more lap to go. He tried to run a little faster, but his shoe came down on top of his shoelace and he tripped forward, landing on his knees. Once again, he heard laughter echoing from the other side of the field. He slowly stood up, brushing the grass and dirt from his knees. They were bleeding from hitting the baked ground. He didn’t even bother looking back at the window. He didn’t want Mrs Bulls to see the tears that rose up in his eyes. He tried to continue running, but his knees ached badly.

Josefa’s chest felt tight and he was beginning to feel dizzy. The sun seemed even hotter in the clear blue sky and he wondered if he could go on. There was just over half the field to go, but he felt shaky and strange. As he looked in front of him, Josefa saw a shimmering pool of light moving towards him like a giant heat wave. He tried to refocus his eyes. The light seemed to be changing shape and moving even faster. Then it began to change colour, becoming a soft blue shadow shaped like a man. Josefa looked away. Maybe it was a cloud of dust. He tried to keep running but he felt ready to collapse. The shadow came in beside him and kept pace. Josefa felt a rush of cold air and shivered violently. He tried to push the shadow away, but his arm went right through it. His legs shook. He looked at the other kids to see if they were scared, but they were continuing their games. No one seemed to notice the figure beside him. Then Josefa heard a voice that terrified him. He bent down and let himself fall to the ground. The voice said something that could only be meant for him. ‘Josefa Naibula,’ it said.

As Josefa looked at the shadow he began to see that it wasn’t a shadow at all. It cleared as if sharpened by a camera lens and a warrior stood before him. The warrior wore a leaf sulu and had a large cowrie shell tied with coconut husk cord around his neck. His hair was styled elaborately with a large bone comb fastening. Both his ears were long and pierced. In his hand he carried a huge club intricately carved out of dark wood. Josefa leant away from the warrior, afraid that he would be clubbed to death.

‘Josefa,’ said the warrior, ‘I am your Vu. I am your ancestor spirit. I am here to protect you.’

‘That’s a funny way of showing it,’ Josefa said, still shaking. Then he remembered his parents always telling him to be polite to his elders. Would the Vu be offended? The Vu didn’t reply. It just looked at him.

‘Josefa, I am here to protect you,’ it said again. ‘Now, get up and run.’ Josefa looked up to see Mrs Bulls marching towards him. He turned back to the Vu but it had disappeared into the air.

‘Josefa, I said run,’ said Mrs Bulls. ‘What are you doing sitting on the ground?’

Josefa pointed to his knees, but they were no longer bloody. They were completely healed over as if he had fallen weeks ago. There was nothing to do but start running again. Except this time, as he set off to finish the rest of the circuit, he felt a new energy inside him. He felt sure that the Vu was still somewhere close by.

‘That’s much better Josefa,’ said Mrs Bulls.

Josefa was tired. He took his lunch down to the corner of the field, where he could lean against the trunk of a tall tree and sit in the gentle shade sipping his water bottle. What had just happened to him? He tried to figure out whether the vision he had seen was really the spirit of an ancestor, or just the heat playing tricks on him. He rubbed his knees. The skin on his kneecaps felt soft and new. Josefa thought about his grandfather. He missed him so much. His grandfather would have known what to make of this strange happening.

A dark cloud was gathering over the field, even though the rest of the sky still seemed bright with sunlight. The cloud made Josefa shiver, although the day was still hot. What was happening? Was the Vu back? Josefa had a feeling that it was something different. The air seemed to get thicker around him as the cloud moved over the field. As it shifted, Josefa started to notice bits of rubbish all over the field. The rubbish bins were tipped over. Now there were chip packets and muesli bar wraps, banana skins and drink bottles scattered everywhere. Flies were buzzing around angrily as if the black cloud had woken them up. The field looked so disgusting that Josefa couldn’t look at it anymore. He gazed up into the tree above him.

There, hanging from a high branch was a thin girl with long black hair tied back in a ponytail.

‘Hi,’ she said softly, letting herself drop to a lower branch, ‘I’m Ming, I’m in your class.’ Josefa looked up at her and realised that he recognised her from somewhere else.

‘I’ve seen you at Chan’s Bakery in Brown St,’ he said finally, grinning.

Ming laughed. ‘Of course you have, I’m Ming Chan. My parents own the bakery.’

Josefa was impressed. Chan’s Bakery made really yummy pies and buns. ‘You’re so lucky,’ he said.

Ming looked puzzled. ‘I guess so,’ she said thoughtfully. She quickly flipped herself around a tree branch.

‘So what do you think of Miss Pholi?’ she asked.

Josefa shrugged. ‘I don’t really know yet, she seems nice I guess.’

Ming flipped herself again so that this time she was standing next to him.

‘I think she’s really nice,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘She’s heaps nicer than Mrs Bulls.’ Josefa agreed silently, but he remembered something else from last term.

‘Didn’t Mrs Bulls make all that fuss about you in assembly, about how you were top in math and reading?’ He smiled widely. ‘And she got you to play the piano for the whole school.’

Ming rolled her eyes and climbed back up into the tree. She looked at Josefa crossly.

‘Just because my parents make me work hard. So what? I don’t care about that stuff anyway.’

Josefa realised that he had hurt her feelings. Maybe she was embarrassed about being so smart.

‘I think it’s cool,’ he said slowly. ‘You could be a scientist or a composer or something.’ Ming smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

‘I told you I don’t care about all that. When I grow up I want to be a stuntwoman.’

‘A what?’

‘You know,’ Ming explained, ‘a stuntwoman like in the movies. They do all the moves for the actors. I want to do all the fighting, and the rock climbing, and the falling down high cliffs. Stuff like that.’

‘That’s really cool,’ said Josefa. She must be really brave, he thought. He wished that he knew what he was going to be.

The bell rang, and as they walked back towards their classroom together, Josefa felt someone shove him from behind.

‘It looks like the Chubster finally has a friend,’ bellowed Jack.

Connor pulled a face at him, rolling his eyes together. ‘Chubster!’ he mocked.

Josefa felt embarrassed. He looked at Ming, but he could see that she was acting like she hadn’t heard them. Jack didn’t like being ignored.

‘Is Chubster your friend, you geeky Chinese?’ he asked, standing in front of her. Ming straightened her back and stepped closer to him.

‘What did you call me?’ she said quietly. Jack grinned stupidly ‘Geek … ’ he started, but he didn’t finish. Ming had tipped her drink bottle all over his head. Orange juice ran down his face and shirt and he stepped back, stunned.

‘Teacher!’ yelled Connor. Miss Pholi came out of the classroom. She looked at Jack who was whining.

‘Who did this to Jack?’ she asked, looking at the sea of children gathering around.

‘Ming did it!’ said Connor, pointing. Ming went bright red and Miss Pholi looked at her thoughtfully.

‘Ming, that’s really not acceptable. Jack, go to the washroom and clean yourself up. Everybody else, the show is over. Get to class, quickly.’

After school, Josefa leant against the school gate waiting for Timoci to come past. Sometimes he walked home on his own, but today he wanted to catch Timoci on his bike so that he could talk about the Vu without his older brothers there. Sometimes it was hard to get a moment alone. Timoci came flying past, but he saw Josefa and pulled to a halt. He hopped off the bike and walked it back to Josefa.

‘How was school, little brother?’ he called out happily, pushing some hair out of his face. Timoci had wild wooly hair that came down as far as his chin. Mum and Dad wanted him to have it cut into a short afro like Solomone, or wear it in corn-rows like Mosesi, but Timoci liked looking scruffy. He thought he looked cool.

‘School was okay,’ mumbled Josefa. Timoci looked at Josefa’s face, and his own smile faded. ‘Don’t lie to me boy!’ he said, pretending to be angry. ‘I can tell that something’s wrong,’ he added kindly, as Josefa started walking towards home.

‘If I tell you, you’re not allowed to tell everybody.’

Timoci shrugged his shoulders. ‘Me?’ he said faking disbelief. ‘I won’t tell anything!’ Josefa looked at him. Sometimes it was hard to know if his older brother was joking.

‘I’m serious, Timoci.’

‘Okay, okay, I won’t tell,’ said Timoci, catching him up.

‘Okay, well something really strange happened today. I saw something,’ said Josefa.

‘Like a burglary?’ asked Timoci excitedly. He really liked crime shows.

‘No,’ said Josefa, ‘like a spirit.’

‘A ghost!’ Timoci was shocked.

‘No!’ Josefa exclaimed. ‘Just listen will you? I was running around the field and I saw a spirit.’

‘Why were you running around the field?’

Josefa groaned. ‘Mrs Bulls made me. Anyway, that’s not the point. I saw the spirit of an ancestor.’

‘Maybe you got sunstroke and started imagining things.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Josefa was suddenly unsure.

‘I know about these things,’ said Timoci authoritatively. ‘You were probably hallucinating.’

Josefa didn’t agree, but Timoci was so convinced it seemed he wasn’t even going to listen.

‘Maybe,’ Josefa said, before changing the subject.

He was going to have to figure out what it meant by himself.

The rest of the way home, Timoci told jokes and laughed at his own stories about what was happening at school. Josefa could tell that Timoci was really excited to be back with his classmates, so he just let Timoci chuckle on without paying too much attention. Josefa had his own problems to think about.

Josefa found his thoughts returning to his grandfather and he felt a deep sadness. Grandfather had died last year and Josefa missed him. Grandfather used to tell him stories about the old days in Fiji. He was the wisest person that Josefa knew and he would have known whether the Vu was real or not. His grandfather would have helped him understand.

‘I am here to protect you,’ the Vu had said. Josefa didn’t feel safe. Protection was fine, but from what? Josefa thought again of the dark cloud and the pollution on the school field. He wondered if it had been a sign of something more sinister. Was the Vu telling him he was in real danger?

CHAPTER TWO

Josefa could see Mosesi, Solomone and Timoci crouching on the verandah and peering into the kitchen. He heard Motown hits drifting through the open window. That meant Dad was inside. Josefa sneaked up to them, curious about what they were spying on. Timoci silently raised his finger to his lips, signalling Josefa to be quiet. He pointed excitedly through the window. Josefa peered into the room over his brothers’ heads. Dad was washing the dishes and dancing! He was mouthing the words to ‘Reach Out’ as if he had a microphone and shaking his hips like a pop star. Josefa tried not to laugh out loud. His brothers scurried down the hall towards the kitchen and Josefa followed. Mosesi tiptoed into the kitchen behind Dad and started imitating everything that he was doing. Solomone and Timoci followed behind him shaking their arms and heads like choir singers at church. Josefa could feel laughter bubbling up inside him. He joined the line up, shrugging his shoulders to the beat. Just then Dad turned around. ‘Arrgh!’ he yelled playfully, and splashed them all with dishwater. The brothers laughed, still dancing around.

‘Come on sons, the tralala.’ Dad started doing the old style Fijian four-step with his arm around Mosesi’s shoulders. The brothers copied him, still chuckling about Dad’s expression. Mum walked in carrying the shopping. She was trying not to giggle. Josefa could see tears in the corners of her eyes and her shoulders shaking with laughter. She put the grocery bag down on the bench and started dancing a Fijian meke.

‘Ie!’ hollered Dad.

Josefa heard a ‘Hmmph’ at the window. Two shadowy faces stared through the window at the same place that his brothers had hidden just ten minutes before. He stopped short and tugged on Timoci’s arm so that he stopped dancing too.

‘Hello there,’ came a loud authoritative voice. Mum blushed and quickly turned the radio off. Mosesi and Solomone scurried away to their room. Dad awkwardly straightened up and went to the door. Standing there was a stern-looking man that Dad seemed to recognise. The man looked familiar, he had a broad red face and red-blonde hair. Jack Bucksworth stood beside him, grinning smugly. Josefa felt sick deep inside his stomach. By tomorrow lunchtime the whole school would know that ‘Chubster’ was dancing.

Dad introduced the man to Mum.

‘Mere, this is my boss, Stan Bucksworth. Stan, this is my wife, Mere.’ Mum shook Stan’s outstretched hand, but she was looking down. Josefa wondered if she noticed that the visitors had worn their shoes into the house.

‘This is my son, Jack,’ announced Mr Bucksworth loudly, ‘apparently he already knows your son from school.’ Dad turned around and signalled Josefa and Timoci forward.

‘Yes, he must know Josefa. This is our older son, Timoci. Boys, take Jack and show him your room while we talk.’ Dad said.

‘Your family is weird,’ Jack whispered meanly. Josefa pretended he hadn’t heard him. He had been impressed with how Ming had ignored Jack at school. Besides, Josefa could tell that Dad was really uncomfortable. He wondered what Mr Bucksworth was doing there. He had never visited their house before. Reluctantly, Josefa led Jack down the hallway to the room he shared with Timoci. He tried not to look at him. Josefa definitely didn’t want to have to make conversation. He wished that Jack wasn’t there, so that he could hide somewhere and hear what Stan Bucksworth was saying. Josefa felt that something wasn’t right. He needed to figure out what was going on.

Halfway down the hallway, Jack stopped abruptly and pointed up at the tabua hanging around Grandfather’s photo.

‘What’s that?’ Jack looked both disgusted and curious.

‘It’s a tabua,’ explained Timoci. ‘It’s precious in our culture. It’s a whale’s tooth.’

‘A whale’s tooth!’ exclaimed Jack. ‘Did you go out and shoot a whale or something?’

‘No,’ said Timoci flatly. ‘It’s really old. They didn’t hunt whales. A whale would have died and been beached up on the sand. That’s why tabua are really rare.’

‘A whale’s tooth! Can I touch it?’ Jack was already reaching up to pull it down.