Off the Track
By Cristy Burne
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About this ebook
Cristy Burne
Children’s author and science writer Cristy Burne has worked as a science communicator across Australia, Japan, Switzerland, the UK, US, South Africa and beyond. She has performed in a science circus, worked as a garbage analyst, and was a reporter at CERN when they turned on the LHC. Cristy loves blending STEM and creativity to enthuse, engage and empower.Cristy has lived for three years in Japan. Her Hashimoto Monsters series, first published by Frances Lincoln Children’s Books as the Takeshita Demons trilogy, was inspired by a plastic head she found in her rubbish bin. Book 1 in the series won the Frances Lincoln Diverse Voices Children’s Book Award.Cristy’s books are published in Australia, the UK, US, Indonesia and Finland. Her latest books are To the Lighthouse (set on Rottnest Island), Off the Track (set on the Bibbulmun Track) and her non-fiction debut, Zeroes and Ones: The geeks, heroes and hackers who changed history.Her non-fiction title Zeroes and Ones (Brio Books, 2018) showcases the geeks, heroes and hackers who changed computing history and was a 2019 CBCA Notable Book.For more, go to www.cristyburne.com
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Book preview
Off the Track - Cristy Burne
The creators of this book recognise and acknowledge the Noongar people as the traditional custodians of the land through which the Bibbulmun Track passes.
For Deepika, the Harrys and adventurous families everywhere
ALL UNPACKED
Harry had just finished packing his bag when Deepika’s mum unzipped it and took everything out again. She started a pile of his things, right there, on the floor of his new apartment.
‘You won’t be needing this on the track,’ she told him. ‘Or these. Or this.’ His best spinner. His trading cards. His remote-controlled car. They all went on the pile. Then, after she’d taken everything fun out of his bag, she stood there, holding out her hand.
‘What?’ he said, pretending not to know.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Your phone.’
Now he pretended not to hear. ‘What?’
‘You won’t need a phone. We’ll be embracing the great outdoors. It’ll be our time to get to know each other.’
She beamed at him. Harry’s eyes grew wide. They’d only just met, but he already knew all he wanted to know about Deepika’s mum. Ana was bossy. She dressed like a farmer. And she was obviously deranged. ‘No way, I need it.’ He held his phone close and looked for his mum. She knew about phones. She’d save him.
But Mum was in the other room, on her phone.
He thought Deepika would surely understand. She was a kid. But when he looked to her for help she just smiled at him. She didn’t even seem to realise her mum was being a fruit loop. Or perhaps she was used to this behaviour.
‘There won’t be much reception out there anyway,’ said Ana, still holding out her hand.
Harry wanted to back away. Or run. Or hide.
‘It’ll just be extra weight to carry,’ Ana pushed on. ‘You really won’t need a phone.’
Now Harry did take a step back. ‘But I really will,’ he insisted.
But Ana didn’t seem to hear. ‘Just leave it on the pile,’ she said, and started folding a T-shirt. ‘Do you have a rain jacket? What about an extra jumper?’
This was brutality. ‘I’m entitled to my freedom.’ Harry puffed out his chest. ‘And my basic human rights.’ Without a phone there’d be Nothing To Do. And he was pretty sure Not Dying Of Boredom was a human right.
‘Exactly,’ said Ana, still sorting his belongings. ‘Deepika, can you get Harry a spare spare-jumper? There’s a pile on the couch.’
‘Okay,’ chimed Deepika. She turned to Harry with another enormous smile. ‘I’ll lend you my favourite,’ she said, and skipped away.
Just then Mum returned from her phone call. Harry could’ve kissed her.
‘Mum, I can bring my phone on the hike, can’t I? I’ll take care of it and I won’t stay up late, plus you know how annoying I can be when I’m bored …’
He tried to flutter his eyelashes, but Mum was looking to Ana instead. Unbelievable. Mum hadn’t seen Ana in twenty years, but now, just because they were back in the same city, they were acting like long-lost sisters. Worse, even though Harry and Deepika had only just laid eyes on each other, suddenly, just because their mums were old friends, they were supposed to be all buddy-buddy best friends forever, too. Ugh.
And way worse than all that put together, the absolute worst, in fact, was that this was only the beginning. Mum had dragged Harry all the way from Sydney. And they were here to stay. He’d had to say goodbye to all his friends. His school. Their old apartment. The only life he’d ever known — and it had been a good life, too.
And now this.
‘Here,’ said Deepika, holding out a brandless blue jacket he wouldn’t wear even if he was alone and freezing in Antarctica and it was snowing. ‘It’s so soft, feel it.’
‘Don’t forget repellent,’ Ana said to Mum. ‘The horseflies can really bite.’
‘And it’s so warm,’ said Deepika. She pushed the jacket at him. ‘Feel it. That’s why I love it so much.’
This had to be some sort of demented dream. Harry looked pleadingly at Mum. Surely she could see? This whole move had been a