Free Angel Creek by Sally Rippin Page B

asking.’
    â€˜Is someone you know in trouble?’
    â€˜ No , Dad.’
    â€˜Well, what do you mean by “not right”?’
    â€˜Say this friend caught a wild bird, a big one, like a pelican, and wanted to keep it as a pet. But you knew that bird—the pelican, or another kind of big bird like a pelican—wasn’t happy being kept as a pet, but your friend wanted to keep it, what would you do?’
    â€˜You remember what happened to that sulphur-crested cockatoo, love, even after we’d fixed its wing and you’d dug up grubs for it and looked after it? And you remember how upset you were, even though it wasn’t your fault?’
    Jelly nodded, remembering the cold stiff body at the bottom of the shoebox, the matted white feathers— nothing like the bird that had once squawked and chattered and flown.
    â€˜You know how I feel about wild birds, love.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ Jelly said, and she did. And knowing that she and her dad felt the same way was some comfort.

15
    the hospital
    â€˜Don’t be frightened by how Nonna looks, darling,’ Jelly’s mum said quietly. ‘The painkillers make her a little drowsy, so she might not seem herself.’
    Jelly’s stomach flipped around as a nurse ushered them along a squeaky linoleum corridor. She peered into some of the open rooms and saw old people sleeping or gazing up at television screens that hung from the ceilings. Their skinny bodies made hills and valleys in a landscape of pale blue cotton blankets. Surely her nonna couldn’t look like that? Her mum’s grip tightened around her hand.
    â€˜Mrs Mancini?’ said the nurse as she entered a dark, quiet room. The curtain was drawn around the bed. ‘Your family is here to see you.’
    Jelly took a deep breath and peered around the curtain.
    Nonna was sitting up in bed, watching TV with the sound down. When she saw them she snorted. ‘ Finalmente ! At last, some good visitors.’
    â€˜You’re looking a little better today!’ Jelly’s mum said.
    â€˜Shall I pull back the curtain for you, Mrs Mancini?’ the nurse asked.
    Nonna shrugged. ‘Open, close. I no care. It no matter to me. My eyes so bad it all the same.’
    Jelly’s mum rolled her eyes at the nurse. The nurse smiled and left the room.
    â€˜Hi, Nonna,’ Jelly said, holding out the pink carnations they had bought at the florist downstairs.
    â€˜Come here, bella. Kiss you nonna.’ She frowned. ‘I no need flowers to get better. I just need my beautiful grandchildren.’ Jelly kissed her grandmother dutifully on both velvety cheeks but Nonna pulled her into a fierce hug.
    â€˜Jelly, I’m going to talk to the doctors. I’ll be back soon,’ said her mum.
    â€˜Why you call her Jelly ?’ Nonna grumbled. ‘She already have good name.’
    Jelly’s mum raised an eyebrow at her.
    â€˜I’ll be fine,’ Jelly said and hopped up onto Nonna’s bed.
    Nonna frowned. ‘Course she be fine. What you think? Here, bella. Look in Nonna’s bag. I have chocolates.’
    Jelly’s mum left the room and Nonna shuffled over to make room for Jelly against the mountain of crisp white pillows.
    â€˜I have TV in bed. Good, eh?’ Then she leaned in and frowned. ‘But food! Food is disgustoso ! You nonna no can eat this food. Look how skinny you nonna get.’ She pinched a roll of fat from her wide, wide stomach, and laughed. Jelly smiled to hear her nonna back in full form.
    They watched some bad daytime TV for a while, without bothering to put the sound up. Nonna caressed Jelly’s small hand in her big rough one, her fingers as knobbled as old grapevines. Jelly used to hate it when Nonna wanted to hold her hand all the time, especially when she was little, but now she didn’t mind so much.
    A big white bird wheeled past the window, floating effortlessly against the sun-bleached sky.