do that, and do it now, he said, then we can kiss the Earth goodbye sooner rather than later.
It was the same message Margaret had given me, and yet, somehow, with his gentle manner and soft voice, it hit home even harder for me. I felt as though I was listening to a soft-spoken angel declaring the end of the world.
When the protest was over, I wandered back to the industrial pier with a heavy heart. Was it really too late? If so, why did the world still look okay to me? I mean, I had been all around it, and had seen some terrible things, yet never got the impression it was actually dying. I knew it was in trouble, not dying. Still, that speaker’s words affected me deeply. They were so measured and certain I almost felt the air had less oxygen in it than it had before he spoke.
Chapter Eight
SHE WAS SITTING ON THE floating pier beside the sub. She was the only one there. I was pretty sure I had seen her at the demonstration. I wondered what she was doing here.
She was about thirty years old, I was guessing; it was hard for me to gauge the age of anyone over twenty. Her hair was light brown, her eyes blue, and her face had a soft expression, as if she were an animal caretaker, or kindergarten teacher, or something like that. She was about my height, and athletic, but not a sailor. I could tell by the way she was staring at the sea. She wasn’t looking at the sub, either, even though she was sitting right beside it, and could see it easily enough, and that gave me the impression she wasn’t interested in it. She fooled me that way.
“Hi,” I said, because she pretended she didn’t see me when I stepped onto the pier. Hollie followed at my feet.
“G’day,” she said. “You’re going to sea, are ya?” She had that kind of Australian accent that made every sentence sound playful.
“Yes. Eventually.”
“Is the little dog going with ya?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all right. Where are you going to next?”
I looked at her. There was something behind her questions, I could feel it, but didn’t know what it was. “We’re going to Tasmania. We’ve got a few weeks of sailing ahead of us first.”
“That’s all right, too. That’s quite the contraption you’ve got there. Been at sea long?”
“A couple of years.”
“How old are ya?”
“Sixteen. Turning seventeen.”
She almost laughed, but caught herself. I figured she was going to keep asking me questions unless I asked her one. So I did. “Did I see you at the protest today?”
She smiled. “Yeah. Ya did.”
“You must be interested in saving the environment then.”
“Yeah, I sure am. And you?”
“That’s why I’m here. I want to learn how to save the oceans.”
“That’s brilliant. Good on you. Did you learn anything at the protest today?”
“I think so. I learned something from listening to that big lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” Now she was really curious. “Who was that then?”
“I don’t know his real name, but I heard somebody call him ‘Brass-knuckles Bennett.’”
She laughed, dropped her head, and shook it from side to side. “Brass-knuckles Bennett?”
“Do you know who he is?”
“Yah, I know who that is.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“What?” She must have been joking. “But…he was a man.”
“Yeah, that was Pritchard Lovelace you were listening to. He’s a good speaker.”
“Sorry.”
“No worries. I get that a lot. When people hear you’re a tough barrister, they just assume you’re a man. Anyone called ‘Brass-knuckles Bennett’ must be a man, right?” She stuck out her hand. “My name’s Jewels. What’s yours?”
“Alfred.” We shook hands. “Why do they call you ‘Brass-knuckles Bennett?”
“Well, Bennett’s my last name, by marriage. The brass-knuckles part comes from the fact that I don’t like to lose. So I fight hard.”
“Hate to lose what?”
“In court. And, usually, I don’t. But today I did. And the thing that I lost to is sitting right
It was the same message Margaret had given me, and yet, somehow, with his gentle manner and soft voice, it hit home even harder for me. I felt as though I was listening to a soft-spoken angel declaring the end of the world.
When the protest was over, I wandered back to the industrial pier with a heavy heart. Was it really too late? If so, why did the world still look okay to me? I mean, I had been all around it, and had seen some terrible things, yet never got the impression it was actually dying. I knew it was in trouble, not dying. Still, that speaker’s words affected me deeply. They were so measured and certain I almost felt the air had less oxygen in it than it had before he spoke.
Chapter Eight
SHE WAS SITTING ON THE floating pier beside the sub. She was the only one there. I was pretty sure I had seen her at the demonstration. I wondered what she was doing here.
She was about thirty years old, I was guessing; it was hard for me to gauge the age of anyone over twenty. Her hair was light brown, her eyes blue, and her face had a soft expression, as if she were an animal caretaker, or kindergarten teacher, or something like that. She was about my height, and athletic, but not a sailor. I could tell by the way she was staring at the sea. She wasn’t looking at the sub, either, even though she was sitting right beside it, and could see it easily enough, and that gave me the impression she wasn’t interested in it. She fooled me that way.
“Hi,” I said, because she pretended she didn’t see me when I stepped onto the pier. Hollie followed at my feet.
“G’day,” she said. “You’re going to sea, are ya?” She had that kind of Australian accent that made every sentence sound playful.
“Yes. Eventually.”
“Is the little dog going with ya?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all right. Where are you going to next?”
I looked at her. There was something behind her questions, I could feel it, but didn’t know what it was. “We’re going to Tasmania. We’ve got a few weeks of sailing ahead of us first.”
“That’s all right, too. That’s quite the contraption you’ve got there. Been at sea long?”
“A couple of years.”
“How old are ya?”
“Sixteen. Turning seventeen.”
She almost laughed, but caught herself. I figured she was going to keep asking me questions unless I asked her one. So I did. “Did I see you at the protest today?”
She smiled. “Yeah. Ya did.”
“You must be interested in saving the environment then.”
“Yeah, I sure am. And you?”
“That’s why I’m here. I want to learn how to save the oceans.”
“That’s brilliant. Good on you. Did you learn anything at the protest today?”
“I think so. I learned something from listening to that big lawyer.”
“A lawyer?” Now she was really curious. “Who was that then?”
“I don’t know his real name, but I heard somebody call him ‘Brass-knuckles Bennett.’”
She laughed, dropped her head, and shook it from side to side. “Brass-knuckles Bennett?”
“Do you know who he is?”
“Yah, I know who that is.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“What?” She must have been joking. “But…he was a man.”
“Yeah, that was Pritchard Lovelace you were listening to. He’s a good speaker.”
“Sorry.”
“No worries. I get that a lot. When people hear you’re a tough barrister, they just assume you’re a man. Anyone called ‘Brass-knuckles Bennett’ must be a man, right?” She stuck out her hand. “My name’s Jewels. What’s yours?”
“Alfred.” We shook hands. “Why do they call you ‘Brass-knuckles Bennett?”
“Well, Bennett’s my last name, by marriage. The brass-knuckles part comes from the fact that I don’t like to lose. So I fight hard.”
“Hate to lose what?”
“In court. And, usually, I don’t. But today I did. And the thing that I lost to is sitting right
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