Jack's Island by Norman Jorgensen Page A

absolutely disgusting. And it serves you right. You ... you ... hooligan.’
    She often used that sentence and it was usually followed by, ‘You’re as bad as your father.’ But not this time. Maybe because this time I was actually worse than my father.
    I slept through that night and nearly all the next day, and woke with the afternoon sun streaming through the window onto my face. I climbed slowly out of bed to close the curtain. My ribs seared with pain as I stepped onto the floor. It hurt even to breathe. I dared not cough. I sat back on my bed and noticed a row of coloured starfish had been neatly arranged in a straight line on the window ledge.
    â€˜Mum?’ I called, ‘Did Banjo come round?’ Who else would bring starfish? Bess, maybe?
    â€˜Yes,’ she shouted from the kitchen, ‘and Mr Palmer.’ She appeared in the door. ‘And the Jansens. Mr Palmer’s leg is still causing him gyp though. It’s getting worse. I think it’s infected, poor man. It must’ve been agony for him to walk all the way from his house. He left a book for you. Said you might enjoy it.’
    Mum nodded at my table. A small black-covered book called Coral Island by R M Ballantyne sat there. ‘He said one of the heroes is called Jack and he seems to get into as much trouble as you do, though for the life of me I can’t see how that’s humanly possible.’
    I smiled but felt uncomfortable. Mr Palmer was at my house? Bringing me presents? Maybe he was turning human after all. Then I remembered ‘The Highwayman’. About as human as Frankenstein.
    â€˜And he left some schoolwork for you,’ she added.
    Once a school teacher, always a tyrant, I reckoned.

The Jap Soldier Living Wild
    I had reached the part in Coral Island where the boys get attacked by an enormous shark but manage to kill it with a broken oar when I heard Dad come home from work, a bit earlier than usual. My door was half open so I heard him talking to Mum.
    â€˜I have to go straight out again,’ he said. ‘Colonel Hurley’s organising a search party. They think the Jap who owned the helmet Jack and Banjo found is still on the island. There’ve been reports of fires and evidence of camp sites. It looks like he’s living wild. Maybe he was part of a scouting party and he got left behind.’
    Mum said something but I couldn’t make it out.
    Dad continued. ‘Keep the windows and doors locked until we find him. And keep the .22 ready. It’s up on the wardrobe. Here, I picked up some shells from Merv.’
    â€˜But won’t you need it if you find him?’ asked Mum.
    â€˜No, the colonel’s going to issue us all with army rifles.’
    I climbed carefully out of bed and went to my door. ‘Dad?’
    â€˜Oh, there you are,’ he said, guessing I’d heard everything. ‘Look after your mother and your sisters, eh, Jack. We’re going to stay out until ten, if we don’t spook him out in the meantime. We’re hoping to spot his campfire again. It seems like he moves it every night.’
    Look after Mum and the girls? What did he mean? I was hardly able to walk back to bed without collapsing.
    A loud knock rattled the door and we all jumped in surprise.
    â€˜Rob? It’s me, Merv. You ready?’ called Mr Purvis from the screen door. He had a gas mask haversack slung over his shoulder but I heard the clink of glass as he moved it. He lifted his hat and nodded at Mum. ‘Evening, Mrs Jones. Nothing to worry about. We’ll have the Nip rounded up before dinnertime.’
    Mum must have heard the glass clink as well because her eyes narrowed. ‘How long has he been on the island, do you think? He might’ve been spying on us the whole time. Watching. Watching and waiting for a moment to murder us all in our beds.’
    â€˜Well, he won’t be doing much murdering with a half a dozen .303 slugs in him,’ said