Brooke (sister aged 8) standing at bottom of tree calling up to Ryder (make the tree one that can withstand some dry conditions.. with climable branches. From these branches hang tin can and ryder (10) climbing the tree..

Ryder (10) walking up footpath towards the reader and is in the shade of water cultivators one of which is visable. These need to look not home made, a mass produced feel about them... but still be recognisable as water cultivators that kids know today (need to be tall

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Ryder hauled himself up the hill, his school uniform

sticking to his skin, the afternoon sun doing its

best to beat him back down the slope. As much

as possible, he walked in the shade of the water

cultivators. At least they were good for one thing.

It had been a long time since their sails had caught

anything but sunlight and dust.

In their driveway, Ryder paused. He looked up

at the worn-out trees, where he’d tied his collection

of old tin cans. He grabbed his drink bottle and

started to climb a lower branch. It was the drought

season, and the birds needed water just as badly

as people. But he would only pour a little into

the cans. He couldn’t spare any more.

Thirst by Paul Mason

“Better not let Dad know you’re wasting water like that!” Brooke called,

pointing at the cans hanging like a jumble of strange fruit.

Ryder paused. “He won’t know if you don’t tell him,” he said. He had

meant to carry on pouring but now thought better of it. “It’s not a waste,”

Ryder grumbled, backing down the tree. “Birds have to drink, too.”

Brooke was about to say something back – something smart – but was

cut off by the whine of an engine. They turned to see a transporter pull up

at the Carters’ house, the command “Aqua-Plex™ Quench Your Thirst!”

splashed across its side.

“It’s not fair. They’re always getting water,” said Brooke. “Why doesn’t

Aqua-Plex ever come to our place?”

“You know why,” said Ryder. He glanced at his sister’s school clothes,

not washed in a month, at the paint peeling off their house like sunburnt

skin, at their car in the driveway, too broke to fi x. Brooke followed his gaze.

21

Brooke (sister aged 8) and Ryder (10) watching transporter operator (woman) delivering water. We can see: Water truck, hydrolic arm going from truck to Carter’s water tank. Transporter operator standing by truck holding a tablet (have black stick baton on her uniform and wearing a cap).It would be good to have a sense of Carter’s house in background which would be fl asher than Ryder’s house. Perhaps with solar panels on roof if possible. It is in the future. But the house and clothing in this story isn’t futuristic. Just the environment is depleted.

The operator climbed out of the transporter and walked round to the

back. She tapped at the tablet in her hand. A hydraulic arm emerged from

the transporter’s side and reached over to the Carters’ water tank. The valve

box opened, and the arm locked in. Then a sound came – the sound of

rushing water. The operator caught sight of Brooke gawping and stopped

for a moment. She had an ugly black night-stick strapped to her side, but

underneath her cap, her face was apologetic.

“I wish we lived in the city and got our water in pipes,” Brooke said.

“People in the city still have to pay Aqua-Plex lots of money,” said Ryder.

They watched for a bit, listening to the gurgling in the tank, trying to imagine

what a stream of fresh water looked like.

The operator tapped her tablet again, switching off the pump. With a

sudden jerk, the arm retracted. A trickle of water escaped. Ryder watched

it land in the dust and vanish.

“What a waste,” Brooke grumbled.

“Go inside and make yourself a snack,” Ryder said. “I’ll come in a bit.”

With a shudder, the transporter came to life and roared away. But Ryder

stood still. His eyes were fi xed on the side of the Carters’ tank, on the valve

box. When she was fi nished, the operator was supposed to enter a code

to lock it down. Only she hadn’t. Ryder could see the door on the little box.

It was open, the valve unguarded. Why had the operator forgotten? Did she

have other things on her mind?

It would only take a few minutes. There was a hose under the house.

It hadn’t been used in months. Ryder could run it right up to the Carters’

tank. Everyone was still at work. No one would see. No one would ever know.

Ryder looked around, the guilt already fl owing, his heartbeat quickening.

He wouldn’t take much, just enough to get his family out of trouble. Besides,

it was bound to rain sooner or later. It had to. Then all the water cultivators

would be bulging and people’s tanks would be fi lled, and there was nothing

Aqua-Plex could do about it. They didn’t own the rain in the clouds. Not yet.

22

Ryder with his back to us at carters water tank. arm up and about to hit the green button, can see hose connected to the tank

Ryder lifting the hose off the hose reel under the house. Hose dusty.

Ryder dragging hose across section going to carters. Section is dry looking.and Ryder is dirty. Face must be visible as this is the last time we will see it.

Ryder stood for a moment, working

things through. Then he threw his school

bag onto the porch and charged down the

basement steps. The hose was hanging

where Dad always kept it, covered in dust.

Ryder lifted it down. Looking, listening,

he crawled out from the side of the house,

hauling the coil behind him. His clothes

rasped against the ground. A little dirt

didn’t matter – they would be able to run

the washing machine tonight. Ryder took

one end of the hose and climbed onto their

water tank, now little more than a hollow

shell. He attached the hose to the valve.

Then, quickly, he jumped down.

Ryder carefully picked his way across

their parched lawn, taking care not to step

on the plastic lids that covered the water

stills dug into the earth. He could hear faint

music coming from Brooke’s room. He

poked the hose through the fence before

scrambling after it. Then he dragged it up

to the Carters’ swollen tank.

With every step, he was sure he’d hear

a call. “Hey, what are you doing? Thief!”

But there was nothing. The Carters’ place

was deserted. Ryder took a deep breath.

He’d gone too far to turn back now. Instead,

he jammed the other end of the hose onto

the Carters’ valve. Licking his dry lips, Ryder

punched the green button.

***

That evening, Mum and Dad got back at the same time, pushing their bikes

together up the hill. Their company boiler suits were darkened with sweat.

When they got through the door, Brooke jumped on Mum, babbling a torrent

of words about her day. “Just give me a moment,” Mum said, laughing. “I need

to catch my breath.”

Dad disconnected his headset and dumped his mini-console on the kitchen

table. He turned it off with a stab of his fi nger. The words “Work-Plex™ Work for

Your Dreams!” twitched on the tiny screen before fading away. Dad didn’t care –

there was no way he was online tonight. He dropped into a chair.

Mum suddenly pulled back from her daughter. “Is your hair damp?” she asked,

the smile falling from her face.

Brooke looked at the fl oor, colour fi lling her cheeks.

Mum held Brooke at arm’s length. “Answer me,” she said fi rmly.

Brooke nodded. “I had a shower.”

“You did what?” growled Dad, suddenly alert.

“Had a shower,” Brooke whispered.

“A shower?” said Dad. “You know we barely have enough water to keep

us alive!”

Brooke’s eyes fi lled up. “Ryder got some more. He said I could.”

25

“Got water? Where from?” said Mum. “Brooke? Where did your brother

get water from?”

Now the tears fell down Brooke’s cheeks. “He said it would be OK.

He said no one would ever fi nd out.”

“Ryder!” Dad called. “Come here, right now!” But there was no sound

from inside the house. “No one touches another drop!” Dad ordered.

He went to the front door and threw it open and stalked outside.

“Ryder!” he called into the darkening sky. “Ryder!”

Dad shouted once more. His voice rumbled through the trees, scattering

the birds that had been perched at the cans quenching their thirst.

illustrations by Andrew Burdan

26

Thirstby Paul Mason illustrations by Andrew Burdan

Text and illustrations copyright © Crown 2015

For copyright information about how you can use this material, go to: http://www.tki.org.nz/Copyright-in-Schools/Terms-of-use

Published 2015 by the Ministry of EducationPO Box 1666, Wellington 6140, New Zealand.www.education.govt.nzAll rights reserved.Enquiries should be made to the publisher.

ISBN 978 0 478 16331 5 (online)

Publishing Services: Lift Education E TūEditor: Susan ParisDesigner: Jodi Wicksteed Literacy Consultant: Melanie WinthropConsulting Editors: Hōne Apanui and Emeli Sione

Curriculum learning area EnglishSocial Sciences

Reading year level Year 6

Keywords conservation, environment, futuristic, post-apocalypse, science fiction, speculative fiction, survival, water

Ryder (10) walking up footpath towards the reader and is in the shade of water cultivators one of which is visable. These need to look not home made, a mass produced feel about them... but still be recognisable as water cultivators that kids know today.. (need to be tall

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Ryder hauled himself up the hill, his school uniform

sticking to his skin, the afternoon sun doing its

best to beat him back down the slope. As much

as possible, he walked in the shade of the water

cultivators. At least they were good for one thing.

It had been a long time since their sails had caught

anything but sunlight and dust.

In their driveway, Ryder paused. He looked up

at the worn-out trees, where he’d tied his collection

of old tin cans. He grabbed his drink bottle and

started to climb a lower branch. It was the drought

season, and the birds needed water just as badly

as people. But he would only pour a little into

the cans. He couldn’t spare any more.

Thirst by Paul Mason

SCHOOL JOURNAL

August 2015

SCHOOL JOURNAL LEVEL 3, AUGUST 2015