The Organ Grinder's Monkey: Rudi and Raven, #1

By Adrian Partridge

What do you do when everything around you seems to be falling apart? Who can you trust? Is everything a lie? What is real?

When Raven and her younger brother, Rudi, are sent to stay with their grandfather for a month, Raven is convinced it's because her parents want them out of the way. She can't be sure, not entirely, but she's heard things.

As fiery and impulsive Raven tries to unravel the truth, as she grapples with her own demons, as she struggles to keep her happy-go-lucky and quirky mask on, and as she tries to discover who she really is, she finds that - with every turn and with each decision - she is plunged further and deeper into trouble and confusion.

And, against everything she wants yet finding herself powerless to resist, she pulls level-headed and cautious Rudi into the storm with her.

In this first book of the series, The Organ Grinder's Monkey explores the pitfalls, the successes, the comedy, and the tragedy, of growing up and trying to make sense of the world around us. Sometimes funny, sometimes sad, but always human, Rudi and Raven learn to navigate the confusing worlds of love, trust, friends, responsibilities, and family. In doing so, they may yet peel back their own layers, and discover something magical underneath.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adrian Partridge
• Release date: Mar 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9780620877633

Adrian Partridge

Adrian lives in Durbanville, near Cape Town in South Africa, along with his two children and artist wife, Lee-Anne. He writes fiction for teens and young adults in the hope that they will find something to make sense of their own world. When he isn't doing that, he writes short stories for adults, in the hope that he can make sense of his own world.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Rudi let out a breath that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He nodded and − after taking a careful look around − they made their way back to the street and started walking past the front of the house. To anyone watching, they appeared to belong. A solitary street light on the corner lit up the front garden; a dim porch light dispelled any shadows at the front door. They turned the corner and walked down the other road, Raven keeping one eye on the house for movement while Rudi kept one on the street.

Once past the arc of the mist-shrouded street light, they once again paused to take a look around and then ran quickly but quietly into the carefully manicured bushes that bordered that side of the house. It was darker on this side. Even though the house stood at an angle, the front facing the corner and the street light, the house next door provided for extra cover. They were still in view of the street but, if they kept down and quiet they ought not to be seen by anyone passing by. As if on cue, lights from a car turning the corner bathed the house in sudden daylight, washing over them as they hunched down, stock-still in the bushes. Now it was Raven’s turn to let out a breath.

I didn’t even hear it coming, she said, rubbing at her temples with both hands.

We should quit now, Rudi said.

Raven shook her head.

No, we’re here. Let’s do what we came for.

They made their way to the first window. Rudi squatted with his back to the wall while Raven raised herself up carefully and looked through. This time, the curtains where not drawn.

Dining room, she hissed down to Rudi. Come have a look.

Rudi pulled himself up beside her. The curtains were indeed open, and there was just enough light from the hallway light to make out some of the details. A wooden table with six chairs made up the centre of the room, and pictures and display cases covered two of the walls.

Raven, a triumphant look on her face, pointed towards the third wall. There, in a large wooden and glass case, was the military uniform that they had seen, just once, on the afternoon they came driving into town. It felt like ages ago now.

Raven hunched down again and reached into her jacket pocket. She retrieved her phone.

What are you doing? Rudi hissed.

I need to get a picture, she replied, raising herself up once again. She shook her head. This will never work, she thought. There is no way a cell-phone camera will get a picture of an object from across a dark room, both through the window and then through the glass of the cabinet.

She put her phone back in her pocket and started to feel along the bottom of the window, her fingers feeling for what her eyes could not see.

Rudi looked at her in horror.

She raised herself up further and began trying to work the window loose.

What are you doing? Rudi hissed.

Shhhhh! Raven glared at him. How else must I get this picture?

Rudi reached out and grabbed her arm. Raven snatched it back and pushed him.

This is crazy! Rudi said, louder now.

Then go home! said Raven.

Rudi grabbed her arm again.

Let me go! Raven said, louder this time. Just let me...

CHAPTER 1

Sunday, one week ago

H e’s suspicious, Raven said, out of the blue.

Rudi turned his head ever-so-slightly towards her, one eyebrow lifting a little. He was sitting outside The Store, passing a lazy afternoon with a bottle of colddrink and a large packet of chips beside him. Raven, on the other hand, was sitting on one of the swings in the small play area. She looked over at her brother. He was once again sitting and staring into main street. Raven wasn’t even sure he had heard. Sometimes, she thought, I have a better chance of squeezing water from a stone than I do of getting a comment out of this boy.

Suspicious, Raven said, a little louder. Rudi turned back to look at her again, his hand digging some more chips out of the bag. If asked to describe his older sister in one phrase, it would have been Big Ideas, thought Rudi. And her tone suggested a Big Idea was forming. He watched the new pastor come driving past. He had long hair. Some of the townsfolk had commented on this.

Raven sighed. This was really no fun at all. It had been great visiting when they were much younger, even for a short period of time. But granddad was getting older now and wasn’t really up to driving his grandchildren all over the farmlands anymore, a definite and firm favourite of Raven’s. They were only one day into their stay and both Raven and Rudi were already feeling the boredom setting in. They had some morning and early evening work to do just outside of town, though it was seldom enough to keep a person busy, she thought.

For as long as they could remember, Rudi and Raven had moved from one base to another, as the army moved their dad where they needed him. He wasn’t on active duty, dad had said, as a knee injury meant that he now spent his military career training other soldiers and managing various affairs around the base. He wasn’t the top dog. But he was a colonel and that came with responsibilities, as dad so often pointed out. And now, for some reason, they had been sent for an extended stay in the countryside. Rudi and Raven were more than accustomed to a week here or a week there, or even two weeks at a stretch. But a full month? Raven suspected − though she had said nothing to Rudi yet − it was because their parents were contemplating another move. She didn’t know this for sure, but she had caught wind of something. She glanced over at Rudi, still shovelling chips into his mouth.

Boredom, snorted Raven. And decided, she snorted again. Just once, thought Raven, I might like a small say in where and how we move around. They had been in their current home for longer than usual, three years in fact, long enough to start to get into a wonderful routine of school, sports, activities, and friends. But no one asks little kids for their opinion. She snorted again.

One snort could usually be ignored. Two meant something was certainly up and three meant that Rudi had better start paying attention. His sister was a not a three-snort kind of girl. This meant that something was going on in her head. For Raven that meant Big Ideas and for Rudi it meant...well, getting caught up in them and having to do things. Dig holes, perhaps, or climb things. Whatever his sister decided was his role in the Big Idea.

Okay Raven, Rudi said. Who is suspicious?

Raven glanced around in a conspiratorial manner, then hopped off the swing and came to sit beside Rudi. The only sounds close to them were the brush strokes from the assistant as he swept up a mess in The Store behind them. They didn’t know his name, having been a bit shy to introduce themselves at first, as his attitude (as Raven put it) seemed to be saying that he wanted them at arm’s length. Surly Teenager was the best that Raven could come up with on short notice. Rudi picked up his phone again.

Will you put your phone away for one minute? hissed Raven. This is serious!

Rudi sighed. Checking one last time to see if there were any messages from his friends (no) he put it back in his pocket and finally gave Raven his full attention.

You know the new guy, the one in that house without the fence and the big windows in front? Across from the Park? Raven asked.

Rudi nodded. They had seen him while driving into town with dad yesterday. A big moving truck had been parked outside the house, and the old man had been standing in the road, directing the moving people as they unpacked the items from the truck, placing them on the front lawn. He was unlike some old men they were accustomed to seeing around town. While some of them seemed to shuffle along everywhere they went with their eyes on the ground (not unlike an ailing chambermaid eking out an existence in the last years of her life by pushing a vacuum cleaner over ash-stained carpets in a rundown motel) this old man stood stock upright and had − as they heard while driving slowly past − a strong and commanding voice. His arms waved here and there as he instructed the moving people, some unloading boxes and furniture for staging on the lawn whilst others collected these to move into the house.

Rudi checked the time once more. They were due back at the dog kennels in a short while for the afternoon feeding, and had better be going if the fifteen minute walk was to get them there on time. Raven halted her recollections and the two picked up the remaining chips and colddrink, packing them into Raven’s green and brown camouflage backpack (a real army one that she had obtained at one the bases they had stayed on, and a very proud possession). Hoisting it onto her back and pocketing her phone, they walked off up the road, still chatting about the old man.

The road curved to the right slightly as they walked up the hill, leaving the town centre behind them. They passed the first couple of houses on the rise and then turned right, following the road out of the town proper and into the countryside. The road changed from tar to gravel, the pavement from brick and stone to grass and bushes, and the walls and palisade fencing gave way to the upright wooden posts and wire of farmland fencing. About two thirds of the town’s surrounding farms were dedicated to livestock: sheep, for the most part, cattle, and goats. The remaining one third included wheat, barley, oats, potatoes, sugar beets, fruits, and vegetables. There was the odd pig farm, but not many. On this side of town the land was flatter and the horizon went on for miles. The only structures breaking up the horizon were large storage silos and grain elevators, with a wind farm off to the left. It had been an idea brought in two years before and the intention was to one day power much of the surrounding farms but, as yet, it had still not been brought on line. To Rudi the huge turbines resembled the corpses of now decommissioned alien crafts, sitting in the fields and gathering dust while industrious little aliens laboured and toiled to power them up and get off the planet.

If a person turned around now and looked back towards town, they would see the beginnings of the foothills, the town built on a gentle rise. The church spire could clearly be seen, just above the large green and blue of the town park. Raven turned back again and looked up the long and dusty road. The sign to the kennels was up ahead, the buildings dotting the clear, flat landscape.

Each school holiday that they spent with granddad was also spent working at the dog kennels. Farmers leaving for periods longer than a couple of days would drop their dogs off before leaving (and sometimes their cats, though mostly people left them to wander the farms). Most of the time, though, it was people from the nearby towns that would come through and drop off their dogs. If the village could be said to have any particular industry, with the exception of the outlying farms, then this was probably it.

The dog kennels were owned by Aunty Jean, not really an aunt but rather an old family friend. She had retired to the countryside and bought the dog kennels as something to do during her retirement. The work was not difficult and was something an old lady could do, with the help of local kids - and some staff - to do the lifting. She often had the help of visiting children on their school holidays as well and − for the last couple of years − this had meant Rudi and Raven.

Their jobs at the dog kennels included being up quite early and ready for the morning feeding. They would walk down from granddad’s house to be there by 06h30, where they would help to lay out the bowls and fill them with the varying types of dog food, according to the type and size of dog. Once done, they would load them onto a wheeled trolley and walk through the pens, opening each gate in turn and setting down a bowl for each dog. Almost every school holiday, two ginormous Newfoundlands came to stay. At first, the sheer size of the dogs had scared both children and, even now, the Newfoundlands still towered over them when standing up on their hind legs to welcome the children and their food. Raven, though, had made friends over time and thought them to be simply the gentlest and most lovable dogs she had ever met. She would spend a little time (more than most) with the two dogs, fussing and rubbing and patting and chatting, even though she had only recently grown taller than them (except when they stood on hind legs). Both dogs would surround her and revel in the fuss, until Raven could be seen no more and all that was left was a mass of black fur and little cooing sounds, reminding Rudi of an image in a comic book of a seething predatory cloud that enveloped the Silver Surfer, trying to suck the life force from him and removing the final obstacle to world domination. Of course, in the comic book the sounds were more like POW and KABAM and not cooing.

Being shorter than Raven, Rudi still viewed both dogs with deep suspicion. He suspected that, should they decide to, they could eat him and then ask for dessert. Luckily for Rudi, he had a favourite as well. Just this year a yorkie puppy had come to stay. It was still tiny and was at the dog kennels for a couple of weeks before the new owners came to collect him. It was only their second shift at the dog kennels for this new season, but the yorkie and Rudi had bonded that very morning. During his rounds, Rudi had open the yorkie’s cage and he had come bounding out, sniffing and leaping and falling over himself to get to Rudi. Rudi had laughed and played with the little thing for a bit, before he walked off on his rounds, the yorkie following faithfully along, little legs holding up a large spiky head.

By 08h00 they were done and back at the main house for breakfast. If there was something Aunty Jean knew how to do well, it was feed hungry children. On the way to the main house Rudi and Raven would stop by the chicken coop and collect some fresh eggs. They entered the house to the smell of freshly baked bread, and bacon sizzling in a large pan, the table already set with freshly grated cheese, an assortment of jams and spreads, and a large loaf of still steaming bread. Taking the eggs from Raven, Aunty Jean broke them into another pan and added milk and salt. Rudi would take out plates and cutlery and set them out for the three of them, while Aunty Jean hummed her way through preparing their scrambled eggs.

This season was no exception.

Eggs and bacon on plates, bread cut and adorned with whichever jam or preserve was the choice of the day (from strawberry to apricot, through fig and tomato), the three would sit down to eat. They would chat and laugh and eat their way through as much as they wanted until, at around 08h45 or so, they would meander their satisfied bellies back out to the kennels to collect the feeding bowls again, loading them onto the trolley as they went and saying a goodbye-for-now to Raven’s monster-sized dogs and – this time around – to Rudi’s little spiky morsel.

They were normally done by 09h30 and, until 17h00 that evening, the day was their own to spend as they wished. Which in this town, much to Raven’s annoyance, was not saying a whole lot. Every evening, as with this evening, they would stroll back to the kennels for the evening’s chores. This time, Aunty Jean would lay out the filled bowls on the trolley while Rudi and Raven hosed down and swept out each pen. This was more fun, usually, than the morning shift as this time they got to take down rough leather waders from hooks in the office and put them on and, complete with Wellington boots, they got to play with the hosepipes and their favourite dogs of the moment. Aunty Jean would follow along behind them, leaving a bowl for each dog and then, final goodbyes out of the way, the children would walk back up to granddad’s house, not 20 minutes from the kennels.

This Sunday evening, however, Raven had more on her mind than annoyance at being left here for a month. As much as she enjoyed the dog kennels and some of the people they would visit during the day, she felt that she was growing up now and had better things to do during her holiday.

But, as Rudi was now observing with some suspicion and narrowed eyes, Raven was in the grip of a Big Idea. She had shuffled half-heartedly through the evening’s chores and now, on the way home, it spilled out of her like an overturned bag of medium-sized dog pellets.

Raven had noticed, she told Rudi, that on their arrival in town and driving past the new old man’s house, a clear garment bag containing what looked − to her − like a military uniform, complete with medals on the front of the jacket. One of the moving people had been holding it upright by the hanger, probably waiting for the old man to tell him what to do with it.

So, it’s a uniform, said Rudi. Why the big deal?

Because, Raven said, turning to him with a gleam in her eye. It wasn’t one of ours!

Both Rudi and Raven had seen a great deal of men and women in uniform. This one, Raven continued, was not one of those she recognised. Because of the magazines and manuals constantly seen around the house, Raven figured she had at least a working knowledge of not just army uniforms and equipment, but air force and navy as well. Again, she stressed, she hadn’t seen this one before.

What I think, said Raven, halting on the road and grabbing Rudi by the shoulders to turn him towards her and look sternly into his eyes, is that this man is not one of us. He has a strange military uniform with quite a few medals. This can mean only one thing.

He is...uh...suspicious? answered Rudi.

"Yes!’ said Raven.

Rudi wandered whether an enemy on foreign soil would be so indiscreet as to show evidence of that to every passing car on the road, and mentioned this to Raven. She thought about that for a moment, agreeing that Rudi had a point. But, she thought, her resolution growing, there was more to this than met the eye. It smelled, to her, like a Mystery. And if there is a Mystery around, Raven can help herself even less than a cat can when an inviting fishbowl is spotted.

Rudi sighed to himself. Raven’s Big Ideas (and the signs of a Big Idea where growing by the minute) meant trouble and work for him. Often lots of trouble. But he couldn’t help himself this time either. The idea of a month of precious little to look forward to other than dog bowls had started to weigh in on him as well. If looking into this new Mystery meant some excitement, as the days stretched in his mind into eternity, then this was one Big Idea that Rudi thought he might go along with...

...at least for now.

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OPENING THE DOOR OF granddad’s house and walking in, Raven deposited her backpack in the front hall. The sounds and smells of sizzling pork sausages wafted down the passageway. They tramped into the kitchen, playing a little private game as they each stepped on only the blue tiles and missed the white ones. Touching a white tile was a no-no. Rudi and Raven sat on tall stools around a central island, the top painted white and the legs painted blue, matching the chequered floor. An old whitewashed ladder was suspended by ropes from the ceiling above the island, with an assortment of bronzed pots and pans hanging from little hooks on the ladder.

Conversation in this kitchen was easy, and always had been. While Raven and granddad chatted about the events of the day, Rudi busied himself by shooting small, balled up pieces of straw paper at the pots above him, trying to make them ring. The last rays of early evening sun shone in through the large bay windows overlooking the back garden. Little dust fairies frolicked and danced in the last rays of day, Raven absentmindedly batting one aside while trying to catch another: always eluding, always furtive, just out of reach of her questing fingertips.

So, news, said granddad, as he placed their dinner plates down on the table and moved one each towards the now hungry children. The last details are almost sorted out and so I have some things for you two to do.

Rudi paused in mid-suck, the colddrink slowing draining down back into the glass. Things to do?

The Harvest Festival is in a month, granddad continued, and there is still a lot to be done in preparation. If you don’t mind − and if the ‘I am so bored’ grumbling you two are doing is anything to go by then I guess you won’t − I have asked around and gotten you something to help with.

Raven, looking just as confused as Rudi, laid her fork down, one half-bitten pork banger hanging off the tines.

Wait...what...? said Raven.

You mean ‘pardon’, said granddad.

Yes, yes, pardon, but what Harvest Festival? said Raven.

Now it was granddad’s turn to look confused.

The Harvest Festival. We spoke about this, said granddad.

Both children were shaking their heads, no-no, haven’t heard a thing, no sir, first time in fact, no idea what you’re going on about.

Granddad sighed out an oh dear and mopped at his mouth with his handkerchief.

The Harvest Festival, he said, the Harvest Festival. It’s like a huge party that the town throws for itself every year.

So... said Rudi, now?

Yes, now, said granddad. Or, rather, in four weeks’ time, just before you go home again. Everyone gets involved, the townspeople and farming community alike, even the migrant workers who come and go during this time of the year.

What’s it for? asked Raven.

I guess it’s our way of saying thank you for the harvest, which of course is happening right as we speak. It is the whole day, from the morning till late at night. There’s food, contests and games, dancing and music, giant bonfires and even − granddad looked at Raven with a twinkle in this eye − perhaps a little romance. The whole town gets decorated up and people come in from the neighbouring towns. Stalls are set up, trinkets are sold, money is made, and everyone has a wonderful time.

Which is all something you know about, of course, continued granddad, because I told you all this already...I’m sure.

"No, no, pretty sure