English for Life Reader Grade 7 Home Language. Elaine Ridge

      And what kind of bird had shed such an amazing feather? Lindi knew a little bit about birds that were native to the South Coast. In grade six she had done a project for her teacher, Mr Ndlovu. Was it the purple-crested lourie with its shiny green cheeks or the sunbird with the splash of crimson on its tiny chest? What about the Malachite kingfisher with its deep blue wings and a turquoise-and-black striped crown? But even the kingfisher did not have feathers as brilliant and jewel-like as this one.

      Lindi placed the feather in the palm of her hand. It curled gently there. She held it against her cheek, enjoying the softness of its texture.

      ‘It must be something very special,’ she decided.

      And somehow, somehow this bird managed to survive in the middle of all this ugliness. Lindi tried to imagine it, perched on the thorn tree between those vicious, threatening spikes. She tried to picture the bird soaring above the darkness of the mine dump, its wings glinting in the sun.

      And then she decided, ‘If something this beautiful can survive here, then so can I! I will find a way to be happy. Yes, for sure, I will find a way to soar above the ugliness too. Just like this bird.’

      She would keep the feather in the small jewellery box Dad had given her, as a symbol – a reminder when things were tough. Dad had given it to her when she was thirteen, back when he was still working. Back when her Mom and her Dad still hugged each other and teased each other and laughed together at the silliest, smallest things.

      And if the feather was there, snug and lovely inside her jewellery box, it would help keep her strong. Surely it would help?

      The front door opened again. The smell of floor wax and bathroom bleach spread over the dead lawn. Out came her parents, along with Mr and Mrs Jacobs carrying their final boxes. Behind them was Delwyn, clutching his skateboard.

      Lindi opened up her hand. ‘Look, Mom. Look, Dad. Look what I found. Isn’t it lovely?’

      Dad put his hand beneath hers and lifted it for a closer look. ‘This is pretty, Lindi,’ he said. ‘Do you know this bird, Mr Jacobs?’ Dad called across to the man whose job he was taking over.

      But Mr Jacobs didn’t answer. He seemed to be too busy laughing to do more than shake his head.

      ‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ giggled his house-proud wife. She was shaking her head too.

      What was their problem?

      Finally it was Delwyn who cleared up the mystery. He put down his skateboard and ran across to the car yelling. ‘Hey, that’s no bird feather! You guys wait a minute! I’ll show you exactly where it comes from.’

      He popped the boot open and disappeared for a few minutes while he rummaged among his family’s belongings. Then he re-appeared, laughing the way only a thirteen-year-old boy could laugh. In his hand, he brandished a large multi-coloured feather-duster.

      ‘There you go! That’s where your famous feather comes from!’

      Lindi stared in dismay at the feather duster with its rainbow of variously dyed feathers: all chicken feathers probably! Mock shocking pink ones layered between garish pretend-yellow and unnaturally sharp, shrieking green. And right at the top, crowning it all: shiny, iridescent fake-turquoise.

      She let the feather fall from her hand.

      ‘So much for that,’ she thought. ‘So much for my symbol. So much for trying to soar above this ugliness!’ She felt despair rising up in her chest now, as dry and rough and splintered as the grass.

      The Jacobs family climbed into their car, shouting final goodbyes. As they sped off, the car tyres threw up clouds of choking orange dust.

      And then Lindi noticed something: Mom and Dad were standing side by side, with their arms around each other. And they were laughing still about the silly feather that had tricked Dad as much as it had tricked Lindi.

      Lindi noticed something else too: the stress and the worry had disappeared from her dad’s eyes. Now his eyes seemed full of hope. And the smile on her mom’s face was definitely not a fake one.

      Dad put his free arm around Lindi and drew her close. ‘So, my girlie? Are you ready for your new life? Do you think maybe you can be happy here?’

      Lindi nodded slowly.

      ‘Maybe, Dad. I’ll try my best,’ she said as their removal truck rumbled up the dusty road and came to the end of its long journey. With a final shudder, it stopped outside their new home.

      brandish – wave something in the air triumphantly