New to Thieves? Start at Chapter One
‘Grandpa! GRANDPA!’ Shirelle was shouting down the telephone. ‘It’s Shirelle. SHIRELLE? From New Zealand? NEW! ZEALAND! I’m sorry, Chief Kiwi,’ she said as the leader of the Kiwis approached, ‘he’s just very hard of hearing these days.’
‘Grandpa!’ She tried again. ‘GRANDPA! Put Kereru on. KERERU!’
Over on the North Island, the podgy pigeon put down her glass of fermented berry juice and swiped the receiver from Grandpa’s hand.
‘Yesh?’ said Kereru with a crooked smile.
‘Shirelle here, Kereru. Any chance of you coming around to pick us up in Stewart Island? Grandpa knows where the keys are.’
‘I – HIC – really don’t think thatsh a good idea,’ said Kereru, burping massively. With one feathered hand she rummaged in the cooler for a chilled Steinlager.
‘What about Kakapo? Has he been drinking?’
From behind Kereru there was an awkward scuffle in the branches of a rimu tree, and then an almighty CRASH as Kakapo plummeted out of the sky to land in a heap on the forest floor.
‘Uh…I think he’sh out of the picture too. Hashn’t even been drinking, but…well, you know. Shorry,’ slurred Kereru. She put the receiver of the phone down, missing the cradle twice.
Shirelle gave the Chief Kiwi a helpless shrug.
Chief Kiwi gave a low whistle and looked out across the horizon. The cup of coffee was still steaming in her hands.
‘I guess it’s all down to this then,’ she said, looking at the silver fern of milk froth. ‘GRANNY KIWI!’
Old Granny K waddled up to the Chief Kiwi.
‘Yes, dear, how can I help you?’
‘I’d like you to drink this flat white, Granny K,’ said the Chief Kiwi.
‘Oh dear, I’m not sure. I really only drink tea these days. It doesn’t do to get overexcited; I’m not the spring chicken I once was!’ Granny Kiwi chortled.
‘Please. For the children,’ said the Chief Kiwi, and she pointed to all the homesick and forlorn little Kiwis sitting on Bondi Beach. They whimpered right on cue. The Chief Kiwi winked at them.
‘Well, if you insist,’ said Granny Kiwi. She took the cup, looked at it, and then knocked the coffee back in one.
‘I’d stand back if I were you,’ the Chief Kiwi told Shirelle.
‘BbbURRRRbbbURRRRbbbbURRRRRRbbbbbURRRRR!’ said Granny Kiwi. She began to shiver and shudder very fast.
‘Is she all right?’ Shirelle asked.
‘She just has quite a reaction to caffeine,’ the Chief Kiwi said.
Granny was vibrating so fast that she had gone blurry around the edges.
‘MmmmmmmfullofbeansfullofbeansfullofCOFFEEbeansI’vegotsomuchenergyIjustdon’tknowwhatodowithit!’ said Granny K.
The Chief Kiwi took Granny firmly by the shoulders. She spoke loudly and clearly.
‘Granny. We need you to track down the Aussies and get our island back. Do you think you can do it?’
‘YesyesohyesI’musedtotrackingAussiesdownthey’vegotadistinctivesmellitsmellslikemeatdon’tyouknowI’mgoingtotrackthatmeatyAussiesmellandswimafterthemandgetourislandback!’
‘And you need to do it before the caffeine rush runs out,’ the Chief Kiwi reminded her.
‘If you feel yourself conking out, just duck back into Melbourne and I’ll rustle you up another flat white,’ Shirelle said helpfully.
‘Now – OFF YOU GO!’ the Chief Kiwi said.
And before the last word had escaped her lips, the oldest and most venerable Kiwi was sprinting down Bondi Beach, through the breakers and into the deep water, where her arms began to spin like racecar wheels. She cut through the ocean waves, leaving a line of roiling foam on the surface of the sea. Soon she had disappeared over the horizon with a hoot of sheer pleasure.
'We really should let her have coffee more often,’ the Chief Kiwi said.
