Heni Hani and the Magic Pendant

Hi! My name’s Heni, Heni Hani. You know, Hani — like honey from a bee in a bottle.
The Jesus statue was our first claim to fame. And each summer, our city — the tuna and shark capital of the world — played host to the world’s longest pub-crawl. But, up the peninsula people feared abduction, implants, lost time and dreams meshed in reality. Cattle were mutilated. And then, there were the child serial killings. Even the police were confused.
I found a magic pendant. Then I fell off the haystack. Thud!
‘Crikey. I think he’s dead?’ Brian kicked me — hard.
‘Ouch! That hurt!’ I squealed, rolling over.
‘Maybe it’s got magical powers Heni?’ suggested Jo. ‘Why don’t you do it again?’
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‘Mom, I had a bad dream about clowns. A stick man with beady black eyes tried to jab a metal object in my neck, so I bit him. Then I ran away — petro flied.’
‘You too—?’ I looked at Jo flabbergasted. ‘But—, you weren’t in my dream.’
‘I was too Heni,’ she snapped. ‘Yes. I saw you holding hands with Amanda Thomas and flying around everywhere like you owned the place!’