by Nette Hilton
I hurried back. I couldn’t find the pink one that Violet-Anne wears, so I brought my blue one. Violet-Anne is so old she’s only as tall as I am. My dad said she was tall once — like him. I wonder if I’ll get small when I’m old.
I wrapped it around her shoulders then looked at the window.
‘Look what Sam built this time,’ Violet-Anne said, raising her arm to point and letting the robe slide off.
‘Where’s Sam?’ I said. I picked my robe up off the floor.
‘There. He’s peeking around the window sill.’
He really was the scarediest spider I’ve ever seen. He bobbed down lower when I looked at him. So I looked at his web. Mrs Cannagan had shown us one like it once. She had got it in a rainforest. She had sprayed the web with her hair stuff so that it could be glued onto a piece of black cardboard. She showed us how carefully the spider had spun all his web together so that each bit draped across to the next. She was crazy about that spider web. She even hung it on the classroom wall until it got too dusty.
But she would have been crazier about this web.
It was spun in the open space between the window and the sill. Dewdrops had caught on it, making thousands of sparkles every time the wind stirred. I blew a tiny breath at it. The dewdrops clung on like the crystals that Mum wears around her neck.
‘I had diamonds like that once. Did I ever tell you about my diamonds?’
‘No.’ I pulled up my chair with the fat bottom. ‘Tell me,’ I said.
‘Do you know I’d forgotten all about them? Wouldn’t it have been terrible if I’d never remembered. I wouldn’t have ever remembered if Sam hadn’t made this web. Just look at it. Look how it sparkles. Oh, my diamonds used to sparkle like that. Edward gave them to me. “They sparkle and dance just like you,” he used to say. I was younger then.’ Violet-Anne patted her hair. ‘And my hair was long and black.’
Violet-Anne’s hair is white. It is so white it looks like talcum powder. My hair is black.
‘And we used to dance. Oh, you should have seen us. Around and around we’d go. I used to get so giddy but Edward held onto me. He’d never let me go, he said.’
I looked at Violet-Anne’s fingers. She didn’t have any diamonds there. My mum wears her diamond ring on her finger.
‘Where did you put your diamonds, Violet-Anne? Can I see them?’ Sometimes my mum lets me wear her diamond ring. But only for a minute. I think she’s scared I’ll lose it.
‘They’ve gone,’ Violet-Anne said. She kept looking at Sam’s web. ‘Sold,’ she said. ‘Sold to buy food, and clothes, and to help the others. Everyone was hungry then.’
‘When?’ I asked. I never knew people were hungry.
‘In the Great Depression. It was a terrible time.’
I made the Milo while Violet-Anne told me all about the Great Depression. I pretended not to notice the tears that kept dripping down off her chin. I don’t like it when people see me cry. I just made the Milo. I put in two spoons of sugar for Violet-Anne. I don’t think it matters if you have extra sugar when you’re 89. I put in three drops of the tonic as well. Violet-Anne didn’t even hear me open the stove.
It was too early to go out and wake Saffron. And Misty was probably still bounding around on someone’s roof. So we sat there, in front of Sam’s spider web, and drank our Milo. Sam peered at us from around the sill. Violet-Anne nodded quietly as she remembered her diamonds and her dancing and the Great Depression.
And I tried to imagine my dad lining up trying to get some work, or some food. I tried to imagine my mum selling her diamond ring and her crystals. And I tried to imagine Christmas without any toys. It was really hard.
Sam spun more webs. We were never sure where they were going to be. We found one at the end of my bed one morning. I felt all creepy when I looked at it. But Sam wasn’t there. He was hiding behind the mirror again. Maybe Sam was scared of me. I hoped so. Violet-Anne found one in the bathroom and another in the laundry. For a seven-legged spider, Sam sure did get around.
My fingers got better too. I showed Violet-Anne.
‘Just as well,’ Violet-Anne said. ‘But I’m worried about Sam. We’ll have to hide him while your mum’s here. She really doesn’t like spiders.’
We spent a long time trying to find Sam. We found a new web on the verandah. But we couldn’t find Sam. He wasn’t behind the mirror. He wasn’t anywhere.
‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘He’s probably outside somewhere.’
‘I hope so.’
I hoped so too. Violet-Anne really loved those webs. Every day before we went to wake Saffron and Misty, Violet-Anne would look for the web.
‘What have you built for me today?’ she’d say when she found it. ‘What will I dream about today?’
Sometimes she’d tell me all about the dreams in the web. But sometimes she just stood there. I could tell she was thinking about them, though. Sometimes she’d forget all about me and tell Sam. Sam always listened. He never ate any flies or ran across his web when she was talking. For a spider, I thought he was very polite.
He never even moved when I crept out. Mrs Cannagan says that it’s rude to listen when people are sharing private things. One day my mum was crying. My dad was kissing her better. That was a private thing. I didn’t stay. It made me feel funny inside.
I really hoped that Sam wouldn’t get sprayed. It would make Violet-Anne very sad.
My mum likes to do things early. Violet-Anne doesn’t. She was still in her dressing gown when we heard the car pull up.
‘Hang on to your hat!’ Violet-Anne said. ‘Here comes Sadie the cleaning lady!’
I giggled. My mum really looked like Sadie the cleaning lady. She had the great big vacuum cleaner that makes washing, gurgling noises. She had a bucket with a mop sticking out of it. She had another bucket with rags and cans squeezing out the top. And she had a scarf wrapped around her head. My dad looked a bit like Sadie too. He was carrying the polisher and the lawnmower. He didn’t have a scarf though. He had his old towelling beach hat that droops down over his nose.
I did the Superman spring off the verandah. ‘Tra-dah!’ I yelled when I landed. I can really do that one now. Not like my sideways walk. I still have to think about which arm goes where. And then I get my legs muddled up.
‘Tra-dah yourself!’ Dad said. ‘Come and carry some of these things for your mother.’
I carried the bucket and the mop. I put the bucket over my head and the mop over my shoulder.
‘Did you have a good time with your great-grandma?’ Mum wanted to know.
I told her all about the mobiles we had made. I had made one for her too. I told her all about the soldiers that I had set up under the frangipani tree in the backyard. I told her everything. But I didn’t tell her about Saffron and Misty. She wouldn’t understand how we could be friends with a blue-tongued lizard. And she doesn’t like the smell and mess that possums make. I don’t like it much either. Violet-Anne told me that Misty had been living in that tree for years and years and years.
‘That’s his home,’ she told me. ‘You can’t shove things in cages and put them somewhere else just because they’re a bit of a worry. Can you?’ I didn’t think so. But I still don’t like cleaning up possum poo!
‘Gracious me, Grandma!’ My mum started clearing away our breakfast things. ‘What a muddle. And you’re not dressed yet. Never mind.’ She started tidying up Violet-Anne. ‘Come and I’ll help you choose a nice fresh dress, and you can sit in the yard with Jenny while I sort it all out for you.’
Violet-Anne made that noise again. The one that Mr Edwards’ horse made when flies were annoying him. She picked up her cane and tap-tapped down the hall. She didn’t even wait for Mum to put the cups in the sink.
‘S’pose you brought that hunching-munching great cleaner of yours?’ she said.
‘Yes, Grandma. It’s there near the doorway. Don’t trip over it, will you?’
‘Have to climb over it first!’
I tried not to
giggle out loud. Sometimes Violet-Anne is really funny.
‘You better just get busy with it then! Jenny, you make some Milo. I’m . . .’ she tapped her cane loudly then, ‘I’m going to get my tracksuit pants on! And my Western Suburbs footy jumper!’
I did giggle out loud then. So did Mum.
‘Oh! She’s a worry,’ she said, ‘I’m glad you’re here to keep her company this week. I don’t think I could stand it if anything happened to her and there was nobody here.’ Mum went all quiet then. ‘Your dad went over to visit the people at the nursing home. They said they have a room for your great-grandma. She can go and stay there anytime we can organise it.’
I thought about Violet-Anne in a nursing home.
‘I don’t think she will like it,’ I said.
‘It’s for the best.’ I didn’t hear my dad come in. He ruffled up my hair. He does that to make me feel better. It doesn’t always work though. ‘We need someone who can stay with Grandma all the time.’
‘I can stay.’ I thought about all the fun we could have. ‘You could come and get me and take me to school. I could catch the train home. And Judy next door could help. She often comes in with snacks for us. And casseroles.’
‘Oh, Jenny.’ Mum grabbed a can of spray and set off. ‘It just wouldn’t work. We live too far away for a start.’
She aimed the can at the hatstand. It was a red can. There were pictures of all these flies and mozzies and bugs laying on their backs with their feet stuck up. I’m glad I wasn’t the artist who had to draw them.
I suppose all the talk about nursing homes made me forget about Sam. But I remembered him now. He was peeping over the mirror looking down at me. He looked scareder than I’ve ever seen him.
‘Hey, Mum!’ I did my happy-man-in-the-Toyota-ad jump. ‘I saw a cockroach! There! It just ran into the kitchen!’
Nothing moves my mum like a cockroach. She charged into the kitchen and started spraying. I felt a bit bad because there really wasn’t a cockroach. But at least Sam didn’t cop it.
‘Get lost, Sam!’ I hissed.
‘What?’ Mum zoomed back out. ‘Did it come back out here?’ She stopped searching for a minute. ‘That’s funny,’ she said, ‘there’s no sign of it anywhere.’
‘Don’t worry, Mum.’ I took the can of spray. ‘I’ll spray around out here and you can get going with the vacuum. How about that?’
‘Good one!’ Mum likes to say the things that kids on the telly say. ‘Then you can go and sit out the back with your great-grandma. Don’t forget to make her a Milo.’
I didn’t forget to make the Milo. I did forget to put the little bottle back inside the stove, though. My mum and dad were really, really mad.
‘That does it!’ Mum slammed the back door so hard I nearly jumped out of my skin. My dad came running around the side to see what had happened.
‘Where did this come from?’ Mum was so mad that little tears swam across her eyes. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Grandma! I just don’t! I already poured one bottle down the sink!’ A tear plopped down onto her cheek. ‘I worry all the time that you’re eating the right food and drinking enough milk. I try really hard to make sure your house is right. And now you do this!’ She rubbed the tear away but another one plopped out. ‘What am I going to do with you?’
My dad put his arm around Mum’s shoulder. ‘Gran,’ he said, ‘it’s very bad to drink this. You know that. Why did you do this?’
Violet-Anne looked at them. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I didn’t mean to upset anyone. Edward used to let me.’
I made a very loud gulping noise. I didn’t mean to. But my throat had a big lump in it and I had to try and swallow it so I could speak.
‘Mum,’ I said. ‘Violet-Anne didn’t do that. I did.’
Mum just shook her head. She looked at my dad. Then she looked back at me.
‘Then that’s even worse.’ She just let the next tear roll on down. ‘Children should never, ever, ever even touch a bottle like this. They should certainly never open it. You’ve done a very bad thing. And so has your great-grandma for having it there.’
Mum went back inside. She went on cleaning but she didn’t make as much noise as she usually does. My dad went back to the mowing. He didn’t even scrunch up my hair. Maybe he knew it wouldn’t help.
Violet-Anne went on sitting in her old cane chair. I sat next to her. We didn’t talk about anything.
‘Grandma.’ My mum had packed all the cleaning things in the car. ‘I have just phoned the nursing home over at Springwood. They said they have a room ready for you. I would like it very much if you would say that you’ll go.’
Violet-Anne didn’t say anything for a long time.
‘It’s for the best, Grandma,’ my dad said. ‘We could come and see you more often. Jenny can even ride over after school. And there’d always be someone there to take care of you.’
‘I don’t want to go,’ Violet-Anne said quietly.
‘Please, Grandma.’ Mum sat down on the floor next to Violet-Anne. ‘Don’t you see how much better it would be. It’s not good for you to be sitting in your nightie for half the day. It’s not good to leave the dishes until the afternoon. You need someone to get you organised. And to care for you.’
I didn’t say anything. I just wished I could creep out and not listen any more.
‘We’re going to leave Jenny with you until Tuesday. She can keep you company until then. We’ll come over early and help you pack up some of the things that you want to take with you.’
Violet-Anne nodded a little. She looked at both of them. ‘Very well,’ she said. Then she got up and tap-tapped quietly down to her room. I heard the door whisper shut behind her. Violet-Anne never closes her bedroom door, but she did this time.
We stood there for a long time. Then my mum put on the kettle.
‘Jenny,’ she said. ‘Do you think you can look after Grandma until Tuesday?’
I nodded. My voice was all tight and funny again. ‘She doesn’t want to go,’ I said.
‘I know.’ The kettle made its loud brumming noise. ‘But you’ll see. Everything will be all right when she gets there.’
Violet-Anne didn’t talk very much on Sunday. She didn’t even bother waking Saffron and Misty. Saffron had to wake himself up and crawl out onto the path. Violet-Anne just went on sitting in her old, cane chair.
‘What’s the use,’ she said. ‘He’ll have no-one to wake him on Wednesday. Or any other day from now on.’ She looked at Misty’s tree. ‘And Misty will have no-one to guard him from the cats.’ She rested her head back and looked up at the mobile. ‘Even Sam has gone.’
‘He’ll come back,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry.’ I told Violet-Anne how I had tricked Mum into not spraying him. Violet-Anne almost smiled.
‘All my memories are in this house,’ she said. ‘How can I leave all my memories?’
I didn’t really know the answer to that. But I thought about it a lot.
I waited until Violet-Anne was having her afternoon snooze. Then I went to visit Judy-next-door. I told her all about Saffron and Misty.
‘Don’t worry, love,’ she said. Judy calls everybody love. ‘I’ll come and visit your great-grandma later.’ She winked at me. ‘I’ve got an old water heater out the back. I’ll bet Saffron will be happy under there. And I haven’t got any cats.’
She got out the bread and some butter. Then she got out a great big jar of jam. She made the most enormous, gluggy sandwich I’d ever seen.
‘I’m not hungry,’ I said. ‘Can I keep it for later?’
Judy laughed. When Judy laughs all bits of her shake about. ‘It’s not for you,’ she said. ‘Come and I’ll show you what I do every afternoon.’
We went out to her backyard. It is the same as Violet-Anne’s. The great big tree swoops over her fence too and dangles its branches right over the clothes line.
‘Watch.’ Judy hoisted herself up the clothes line. I thought she was really clever. I don’t kn
ow anyone else who eats jam sandwiches on top of a clothes line. But she didn’t eat it. She just placed it there and then climbed down.
‘It might be a bit early yet,’ she said. ‘But you never know.’
Judy took me back onto her verandah.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘you must be very quiet, and wait.’
We waited for a long, long time. Judy made me a drink and then I got hungry. So she made me a jam sandwich too.
‘You can have that one up there as well,’ she said, ‘if something doesn’t happen soon.’
It got cooler when the sun went down. It wasn’t dark. It looked a little like the world when I looked through my blue-coloured glass. Everything was still. Everything except one branch of Violet-Anne’s old tree.
‘Watch.’ Judy pointed across to the clothes line.
The branch kept wobbling. It joggled about and then it was still. Then it joggled up and down again. And I thought I saw something move. It was a black something. I could see it had a long tail. Then I could see it had two ears and two enormous eyes.
‘Hello, Misty,’ I said.
He looked across to the verandah. I moved a little towards the step. But Misty didn’t seem to care. He was too busy tearing dainty pieces off the giant jam sandwich.
‘I’ve never seen him before,’ I told Judy. ‘I never knew he was so big.’
‘Oh!’ Judy flapped her hands up and down. ‘He’s been coming over for afternoon tea for ages. Cheeky old devil, he is. Then he keeps me awake all night!’
Judy waited while I had a close look at Misty.
‘Listen, love,’ she said. ‘What’d you reckon about inviting your great-grandma in for a late cuppa tomorrow? About this time would be good.’ She winked at me again. ‘Don’t you think?’
‘Can I climb up and put the sandwich on the clothes line?’ I asked. My mum won’t let me climb on our clothes line any more. It’s still got a big bend in it from the last time.
‘You sure can.’ Judy jiggled around. ‘But I don’t think we should tell Violet-Anne about Misty yet. Let it be a surprise.’