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April 20 School SwimmingThe untidy crocodile from Room 11 straggled across town on their way to the Municipal pool. Sonia and Alice dawdled past the boarding house, a dilapidated sprawling villa, pausing momentarily to reach up for the cherry blossom hanging in pink clusters from drooping branches that provided welcome shade for passers-by, and secluded parking for clientele. Alice tried not to stare at the building with its discreet lighting, the place where her mother went to work each evening. She hated staying home alone with Daddy. Mummy always arrived home before Alice caught the school bus … in time to cook breakfast and kiss her goodbye. Sonia, a dreamer, wished she had some silver paper to create a posy to pin on her jacket lapel, using the candyfloss blossom and incorporating the delicate ferns peeping from a damp corner near the side door. Alice recalled the day they arrived at the farm shortly after her grandparents lost their lives in a motor accident. It was traumatic moving from life in the city to a farm and Alice tried to settle into her new home, although she no longer rode on the tractor. Once the man she was instructed to call Daddy, in a foul mood, had thrown her onto the ground badly damaging her hand, declaring he had no use for brats. Her hand never healed, it was wizened and slack, and useless for fastening buttons. Daddy was cruel; he kicked animals and she often witnessed him throwing puppies over the fence because they were in his way. She was thankful to be friends with Sonia who was always happy and cheerful. Once again it was time for school swimming and although neither Alice nor Sonia could swim, Sonia, tossing her long golden pony-tail, told everyone that as long as they liked water, bathed often enough to smell nice, loved the beach whether or not the waves broke over their ankles, and enjoyed watching ducks on the pond in the park, the fact you couldn’t swim was inconsequential. The children reached the pool, branching right or left to cold and draughty changing rooms with jagged holes in the walls through which curious boys tried to peer. Alice followed Sonia down the steps into the shallow end, dodging splashes from accomplished swimmers who had dived in. Sonia hurried to a corner, and holding onto the edges, immersed herself up to her neck, while Alice waited shivering. Mr Thomson, insisting that the only way to gain water confidence was to push your boundaries, instructed them to line up at poolside and jump in. Alice watched as two others, and then Sonia, jumped. Sonia thought it a huge joke and emerged dripping wet, a grin on her face, shaking the water from her hair. “Jump Alice … hurry up please, you are holding the others up!” Alice hurried to obey as she heard Mr Thomson’s voice. She felt her feet slipping and desperately flung out her hands to regain balance. Her weakened hand flailed and failed to function. She felt her head bobbing under the water. After rising to the surface she sunk again and as darkness threatened to overcome her she recalled last weekend when Mummy was at work. Daddy had ordered her to take a bath and stood supervising, a strange wild-eyed look on his face. Alice instinctively felt uneasy. When he reached forward to soap her body she froze in fear. She was a big girl. She knew how to bathe herself. “It’s OK Daddy,” Alice had said. “I can manage without any help”. Daddy angrily grabbed her arm and yanked her from the water, roughly towelled her down and carried her to the bedroom where he threw her across the bed, her crippled hand twisted behind her back. Horrified Sonia watched as Mr Thomson, his rimless spectacles thrown swiftly to the ground, dived into the pool and hauled a choking Alice out. Sonia gasped as the water spewed from Alice’s mouth. Ashen she watched, as Alice her wizened hand twisted behind her back, screamed in terror, “No Daddy, no! Please no!” Submitted by Meadow Lark April 05 FloatingKathy watched the sleeping girl who clutched a pink ragged teddy bear in a loving embrace on the crumpled bed in an old fashioned room with a fireplace and two wooden beds. One bed was empty, but Kathy knew a boy should have been sleeping under the khaki blanket purchased from the Supply Store after the war, when surplus blankets and jackets had been offered cheaply to the needy. The eight-year-old boy frequently suffered from nightmares, and to feel safe he insisted on sleeping with his mother. In the beginning, when Father had left temporarily to work offshore, a rule had been made … turns about sleeping with Mother. It seemed fair. It seldom worked out! Bobby saw huge bulls on the walls and cried out in fear. Kathy wondered if it was because he was forever poking pieces of long stick through the netting fence at milking time. The cows, with vapour from the cold morning air pouring from their noses and mouths, paced the fence line and made threatening noises and movements towards the antagonizing boy, who always managed to run away fast enough and was never caught. Kathy thought Bobby’s dreams must be the result of a guilty conscience. She seldom slept in Mother’s bed except on the rare occasion, and even then Bobby would come crawling in crying about bad dreams. In the end it was easier not to bother. If she sneaked the torch under the blankets she could read a few more pages of ‘Black Beauty’ or ‘Heidi’. The world of books filled her mind as she lived, through the written word, the exciting adventures of people and animals. Her imagination soared and she never dreamed of bulls leaping out of walls. In her dreams she rode a dashing black horse over white painted jumps, she flew over ditches, and rode in triumph to the dais to receive the silver trophy proudly displayed on the delicately draped kidney-shaped dressing table. Movies were Kathy’s next love. Every Saturday she rode her bicycle to the picture theatre and sat spellbound as cartoons and a serial flashed across the silver screen. The main attraction of a matinee was always suitable for children. She had even seen ‘Heidi’ in the movies. She marveled at the grandeur of the mountains and the almost primitive cottage that Heidi’s Grandfather lived in. She would have loved to spend time with Heidi, but that was only a book, a movie, it was not real life. A muffled sob came from the other bedroom. Bobby must be dreaming again. She did wish he wouldn’t. It so disturbed her night. She wished Father was home. He would make everything right by playing the upright piano that stood in the corner of the living room. Just by imagining his voice singing, “I’ll take you home again Kathleen” made her feel less alone. It was all right for Bobby. He was young. He was the baby and he could cry. She was a big girl and had to be strong and help Mother. She had promised Father she would. The sleeping girl lay still. Kathy wondered about her. It was only when she floated up to the ceiling that she noticed the girl, who had her long golden hair tied up in pieces of white sheet to give her ringlets in the morning. Ringlets were the fashion. Kathy looked down. It was a long way to the bed. She had never told anyone about floating up to the ceiling. No one would have believed her. As it was Mother often said Kathy had too vivid an imagination and needed to come back down to earth. Sometimes she thought it might be better to stay up there in the corner of the ceiling. She didn’t know if Mother would see her. She wasn’t sure that Mother would even miss her. The girl on the bed began to quietly stir, and Kathy taking her cue, gently slid back into the body on the bed. Perhaps she should stop floating, as one day she might not be able to return. Submitted by Meadow Lark March 09 Coffee Shop MeetingSusie stepped briskly into the coffee shop and looking around spied a vacant table near the window. Would she order her coffee now or wait until Mr. Roberts arrived? Glancing at her watch she realised she was ten minutes early for the appointment. The carrot cake in the display cabinet looked inviting. A coffee shop might seem a strange place to meet, but friends had been reassuring that this type of arrangement was not uncommon. Susie ordered a latte and a slice of carrot cake, and walked back to the table where she carefully spread a paper napkin on her knees. Cake crumbs on the new slim grey skirt would not do. The morning had dawned cold with a hint of snow, which made her choice between the pale lemon angora sweater and the business-like white blouse simple … she wore the sweater.
A distinguished looking man entered the coffee bar and peered around as though searching for someone. She waved and he came over. Conscious of the need to make a good first impression Susie sprang to her feet and enquired if she could get him a coffee and something to eat. He thought for a moment before deciding on a flat white, and a ham and mustard sandwich, on brown bread. As Susie hurried to the counter she smiled to herself. Brown bread … not many men requested brown bread. He was smartly dressed she noted, had dimples in his chin and an enchanting lopsided grin. She felt this meeting would go well. A brassy-blonde woman reaching for the chocolate fudge bumped clumsily into Susie, who quickly picked up the sandwich and coffee and returned to their table. Her companion gave a rueful smile as they glanced toward the large lady, dressed in an orange chiffon dress and white summer sandals that looked sadly out of place on a cold morning. “This is a busy place today,” Susie smiled. “Everyone seems to have the same idea.” He agreed, swinging his eyes in astonishment towards the man, who had just entered wearing gumboots, a grubby shirt and torn trousers. “I wonder what he wants?” he asked. “I don’t know,” replied Susie, ‘but fancy wearing gumboots in here! They shared a smile and Susie thought how gentlemanly he was. In a demanding voice that echoed around the room the new arrival asked the lady in the orange frock if she was meeting someone at 10.30 a.m. to which she replied that she was. Susie’s eyes widened. She too had her appointment for 10.30 a.m. Strange how two women should both be here at the same time for an appointment? Susie touched her companion on the sleeve and asked, “Our appointment was for 10.30 a.m. wasn’t it? He replied, “Yes, as we arranged on the telephone last Tuesday.” “Tuesday?” Susie was puzzled. She had spoken to Mr. Roberts on Wednesday. “You do mean Wednesday, don’t you?” she queried. “It was definitely Tuesday. Tuesday evening after the 6 o’clock TV News.” “Excuse me,” Susie said, “but is your name Mr. Roberts?” “No,” replied her companion, “I am Matt Johnston. You are Gloria aren’t you?” Susie blushed. Something was wrong. “My name is Susie,” she said. In the background they heard a loud conversation. The woman in the orange dress said she was Gloria and the man in gumboots replied that his name was Dan Roberts. Susie cast a surreptitious glance at Matt and was pleased to notice he was laughing. Reaching over he placed a warm hand over hers and whispered confidentially, “This is our lucky day! |
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