Julie grabbled her father's lunch box, ran out the door and slammed it behind her. All she wanted to do was to get away.
*
Three fields away, John reached the end of the strip he was ploughing and stopped the tractor. He noticed Julie running up the lane so turned the engine off and climbed down. He'd been working almost non-stop since six-thirty and felt exhausted, grubby and hungry.
"Hi Sweetheart," he called as Julie reached the gate. "Right on time, as usual. I hope you put lots of milk and sugar in my coffee."
"I did, Daddy," Julie sniffed and handed the tin lunch box over. Her eyes were still red from the tears and a dirty smug across her cheek where she'd attempted to wipe the tears away only added to her look of despair.
John stopped and rubbed his stubble. “What’s wrong, Julie?" he asked in a tender voice.
"Just Mom."
John stared at his daughter for a moment, placed his lunch on the tractor seat and picked Julie up into his arms. " There's more, isn't there? '
Julie nodded. "Mom's changed, Daddy."
John sighed. "I'm afraid your mom is ill, Julie," he said. "When people are ill they do things they wouldn't normally do. She has cancer. Have you heard of that?"
Julie nodded. "Big lumps that grow in the wrong place."
"Yes," John replied. "I don't think Mom will get better so we have to look after her and ignore the times she does the wrong thing."
The youngster looked at her father and nodded with a solemn expression across her face. "So what do we do, Daddy?"
"We carry on," John said. "Grandma is here to help so we aren't alone."
"No Daddy," Julie responded. “We aren't alone."
*
Kylena felt her eyes smart as John's daughter continued her story.
"In one way Mom did improved," Julie added " No men ever came back, her trips to town stopped but she never got better. She became so thin and bad tempered until in the end she was moved to a hospice. Daddy visited every day but I didn't want to go near. The one time I did go she was like a shrivelled up old lady."
"I see and you knew your Dad was hurting?"
"Yes, and I don't want it to happen again, Miss Delton."
"If that is what is worrying you, I can promise I'll never hurt your father, Julie. I know he loves you and Helen and that is forever. I also know he would never, ever leave you or send you away."
"But next year I have to go to a boarding school, anyway. Margaret Johnston is at one across in Hawkes Bay, two hundred miles away. She’s only allowed home once every six weeks."
"I'll talk to your Dad and I'm sure we can solve that problem," Kylena said. "You can enrol at Feilding High School."
"And how is that different?"
"It's a state boarding school and girls can choose to just stay five days. You come home every weekend. I know they'll be taking enrolments for next year soon. If your Dad agrees, I can get all the information you need. Three of our last year's Year 8s are there now. It's a good school."
"And will I have to wear a uniform?"
Kylena nodded. "Most New Zealand high schools have a uniform. The Feilding one is a nice maroon colour."
"I don't mind that. “Julie gave a limp smile. "I like it here, Miss Delton but everything is so different. I want to be just me, not someone who speaks funny. To me, I don't speak funny. You do."
"I guess I do but I think something your Dad said is true."
"And what's that?"
"It's what you are inside that counts, the person you are. It doesn't matter if you are American or New Zealander, whether you are white, black or brown or even the language you speak."
"I know," Julie whispered. "Don't tell Daddy but I get so lonely here. Sure, I know there's Melanie but she rattles on. I love the school but I wish there were more girls around my own age. I miss my friends and feel so alone. Everyone thinks I'm a bragger."
"And that is why every morning at half past eight, all the juniors gather around your desk to tell you what they did the night before. They used to rush in and talk to me but they all go to you, now." She smiled. "Except Helen who comes rushing up to me to talk about everything she has done with you. And poor little Daniel last week. Remember what he did when he tripped over and skinned his knees and elbows?"
"He was a mess, wasn't he?" Julie smiled. "Blood everywhere and him screaming his head off."
"But he ran to you for help. You patched him up and put sticking plaster..."
"Band aids, Miss Delton. We call them band aids and that's even printed on the box."
"Yes, you’re correct," The teacher smiled. "We're using more and more American words now. Anyhow, you fixed him up and even went and rang his mother."
"You were busy with that visitor."
"I know, but do you think the children would go near you if you weren't their friend?"
"I suppose not."
"They may not all be your age, but they are all your friends and we are all proud of you. Even the parents have said how much they enjoy having your bright, happy face around. "It's so peaceful at the school now with those horrible boys gone and that new American girl in the senior class. Deanna is always talking about her.' That was what Mrs. Teale said only last week and you know what an old bite she is."
"I feel sorry for Deanna. She has a hard life."
"Exactly and you've made it better for her." Kylena hesitated. "So do you really mind if your Dad and I go out together?"
Julie shook her head. "Will you have a baby now?" The eyes, now dry glanced up.
"Oh Julie," Kylena was almost in tears. "I don't think so. I'm so sorry about last night but believe me when I say I would never want to hurt you or Helen."
"I think I'll believe you," the youngster replied.
The pair had been concentrating on their conversation so much they never heard the footfall on the floor tiles until the last moment. Both swung around to see John standing there with a smile on his face.
"Dad," Julie cried and leaped up and into his arms. Her tears returned. "I love you Daddy," she cried. “But I've been so mean."
"No she hasn't," Kylena defended when she noticed his quizzical gaze. "We've just been talking, that's all."
"Oh have you?" John drawled. "Is there anything I should know?"
"Just girl talk, Dad," Julie responded, kissed her father's cheek and slipped out towards the door. "It's nothing you men would understand."
"What was that all about?" John chuckled after his daughter left.
"She was in the hall last night and heard us," Kylena confessed.
"Oh hell," John responded.
"I think it will be okay, though," John," Kylena responded. "We had a long talk and I tried to explain." She gave a slight giggle. "She's convinced I'm going to have a baby, though."
"Oh hell," John muttered for a second time.
*
"You can help me carry the pies in," Kylena smiled at Helen who came rushing out to meet the white Honda that pulled to a halt under the carport.
Helen's eyes glowed when she saw the hot steaming pumpkin pie. "You're the only one except Grandma who knows how to cook American food. How do you do it, Miss Delton?
"Recipes off the internet, Helen," Kylena confessed and never told about her failed attempts to get things right. "I've never tried many of these things before but I know you and your daddy like them."
"We sure do," Helen laughed. "That's one of the things I miss." She glanced up at her teacher. "I'm not allowed to tell you but Julie has a surprise for you."
"Has she now then you'd better say no more, had you?"
"She spent ages on it."
Kylena smiled and walked through into the kitchen to where a sheepish twelve-year-old was waiting. Without a word, Julie handed her a beautifully wrapped box of, what she guessed were chocolates.
"Why thank you, Julie but it's not my birthday yet. What’s this for?" the teacher responded.
"An apology, Kylena," Julie whispered. She glared at Helen
as if she knew her little sister had said something.
The parcel did contain a small box of chocolates but of more delight was the beautiful home made card that accompanied it. On the cover inside a border of delicate flowers was a coloured photograph of a large colonial type house with a younger Julie on the front porch holding a toddler in her arms.
"You with Helen back home in New York State?" Kylena asked.
"Yes," Julie said in a solemn voice and waited while Kylena opened the card to see a modern photo of John, Fiona and the girls, as she knew them, standing in front of the house they were now inside.
This is our home now, read the note in neat curly writing. I want you to be part of it. I'm so sorry for being nasty to you. You are the best thing that has happened to my Dad and me. Love Julie
"Oh Julie, it's lovely but it wasn't necessary.”
"Daddy used a time delay so he could be in the shot, too," Helen bubbled out.
"I acted like a fool during the weekend," Julie continued.
"No you didn't," Kylena replied. "You were protecting your Dad and I think that was very mature of you." She reached out and hugged her young companion. "I wasn't going to say anything but I have a surprise for you, too but not until early tomorrow morning."
Julie wrinkled her brow. "How early?"
" Can you be at school by quarter to eight?"
"She'll be snoring then, " Helen cut in.
"Hush up, little sister," Julie retorted. "I'll be there but what is it all about?"
"Now, if I told you it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"
Julie grinned and nodded.
"Can I come, too?" little sister interjected once again.
"If you want to, Helen." Kylena answered and turned to find two tanned arms around her and a smiling face looking into hers.
"Girl secrets?" John said and kissed Kylena on the cheek.
"No," she answered. "That little thing-a-me I mentioned has all worked out."
"Has it?" John laughed. "I'm amazed."
"Dad!" Julie retorted. She was curious.
*
CHAPTER 9
At seven forty on a warm still morning the two Berg girls bounded out of the Land Rover and headed into the classroom.
"Look at the computer," Kylena said as she smiled up from her desk.
Julie swung around and walked over to the screen that displayed a photo of a large school building with smiling pupils in front. Welcome to the Davidson Junior High School Home Page blazed across the screen top.
"My old school," gasped Julie. "You found their web site."
"Not only that," Kylena replied. "Click on the Chat icon."
Julie nodded and did. The screen changed to a chat page document similar to a small T.V. screen with two sections and a column of buttons down the left side. On the dot of seven forty a tiny buzzer sounded and a green button shone to indicate a message had arrived.
"Click on the icon that looks like a mobile phone," Kylena advised. "That will show you are ready to receive an incoming friend.
Julie nodded, bit on her bottom lip in nervousness and did so. Immediately words began to run across the screen in red letters.
"Hi Julie. We hope you are there. This is Samantha Jones, Mandy Mazzini and Jenny Bozejowski here."
Julie just stared wide-eyed at the screen then up at her teacher before she almost screamed in delight. "My friends from last year. But how?"
"Type a reply, " Kylena said.
"Yes I'm here," Julie typed and watched as her words came up in blue.
"Gee, it works," Red words ran across the screen. " Samantha here. We're in the main computer room with Mr. Mann. What time is it there?"
"He was my English teacher," Julie explained and began tapping on the keyboard. "It's quarter to eight, Thursday morning and I had no idea this was being set up. How are you guys?"
"Jenny here. We're fine. It's quarter to two in the afternoon and ... " the words kept spilling out as the three girls across the world told their news.
"Oh Miss Delton." Julie grinned up from her chair. “This is marvellous but how did you do it?"
"It's our chat link As long as you know the time to call up, you can chat to your old school or leave a message. Your Dad's downloaded the software at home, too so you can use your computer there, too. Your old school agreed to allow your friends to use a computer time every Wednesday afternoon at this time to contact you. "
"Oh my God." Julie replied in excitement as she read the incoming news and began her reply.
"There is a new game on the other computer for you, Helen," the teacher added. " You have to make up sums to help the three bears escape from the forest. You’ll be the first one to use it if you'd like to try.”
Helen's face changed from a disappointed scowl to a smile. "Yes please, Miss Delton," she replied and rushed to the adjacent computer.
Within a moment, both Berg girls were glued to their screens while their teacher stood back and felt proud of her efforts. "If you're set, I'll go and do some other work now," she said.
"Sure," Julie mumbled and giggled at the news coming through.
"The little bear is out of the forest," Helen called out without moving her eyes from her screen. "Mama Bear is still lost, though."
"Keep trying, Helen. You're going well."
It was moments like these when teaching was its most satisfying.
*
That afternoon Fiona found something that jolted her emotions like a thunderbolt. When she helped John and Harold shift his last furniture and personal belongings down from the top cabin. The old Bedford was piled high with Harold's last gear.
"I liked it here," Harold reminisced as he gazed at Fiona who was packing a pile of sketchbooks into a box. There were dozens of them, all organized and dated.
"You don't mind if I glance through your drawings, do you?" Fiona asked.
"Not at all," Harold replied. "Most are not complete. I intended to produce paintings of the best ones but never really got that far." He smiled. "Perhaps this winter I'll start."
He wandered off to help John lift a chest of drawers onto the truck and Fiona was alone. She packed for a few more moments until she came to a pile of half a dozen blue covered sketch books; quite different in size and structure to the others. A piece of twine was wrapped around them with dates from the early eighties written down the spines. She slid the first one from under the string and opened it. Inside was a picture of a girl of around Julie's age. The whole book had drawings on her in all manner of activities such as horse riding, playing with a dog, in formal clothes as if she was preparing for a prom, and so forth. Brief notes stated Aggie with Sandy, Aggie on a swing and so forth. There were thirty or forty drawings, all of Harold's daughter.
Fiona slipped the sketchpad back and pulled out the second one. This showed an eighteen year old at a high school graduation gown, a beautiful teenager winning a running race, sailing on a yacht and other scenes. She frowned and took out two more sketchpads. One showed the same woman graduating from university and one with her in a wedding gown. The groom was but a silhouette in the background and the woman was smiling directly at the artist with piercing blue eyes.
She was so absorbed in the drawings she never heard Harold behind her until he gave a slight cough. "Aggie, my daughter," he muttered.
"But you said you've never seen her since she was twelve?" Fiona said.
"I haven't," Harold sighed. "Those are just the vivid imagination of an old man."
"You mean they aren't real?"
"The first pad is," Harold replied. "After she left I just sort of imagined what she might look like and what she could be doing. Whenever, I was lonely I'd draw another picture of her as she might look at the time." He shrugged. "It became an obsession, I guess, a fantasy daughter that I pretended things happened to."
He reached to the last pad, this one crisp and new. "This was the last one I drew not long before John and you took me to hospital. Aggie would be thirty five now a
nd could easily have children." He shrugged. “That’s what I imagined, anyway."
"Oh Harold," Fiona said as she opened the pad. “The woman in the drawing again smiled directly at the artist but was standing with three children in front of her, a girl almost her height and two smaller boys."
"Tell me," Fiona asked in a compassionate voice. "Is Aggie still alive?"
Harold took the sketchpad from Fiona's fingers and slipped it back in the pile. "You think I might be hiding some tragedy but no. To be honest, I don't really know. After that letter from the social welfare on her eighteenth birthday, I spent months trying to trace her. The only information was that she'd never returned to New Zealand. The Australian authorities were no help. My guess is, her mother changed their names or moved on to another country. She was quite a talented academic and could have gone anywhere."
"But that was a long time ago," Fiona added.
"Five years back, I tried again but had no luck." He grimaced. "As I said, she is not real any more, just a figment of my imagination."
"But the drawings are so life like," Fiona gasped.
"My company. I lost faith in humanity, Fiona."
"But why?"
"Just events," Harold muttered. "I gave my life to my career but in the end the government department I worked for was disestablished and I retired."
"Well, I'm glad you decided to shift permanently down to John's cottage."
"Why should you care?" Harold asked in a quiet voice.
"Because I do, Doctor Bentley," Fiona retorted. "I also think you should start trusting humanity again instead of living in a world of fantasy and what might have been. I followed my son-in-law across the world because I could not bare being alone and do you know what?"
"What? " Harold's eyes fixed on her.
"It was the best thing I ever did."
*
The next morning Fiona decided she'd do something to help Harold find his daughter. Perhaps he had it all wrong. He had said his wife was an academic, he was one, so couldn't the daughter have become one, too. Highly educated people often were so interested in improving their education a social life became second. What if Aggie Bentley was not a married woman with a bunch of children but an academic at a university somewhere? Fiona smiled. It was somewhere to start.
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