Molly and Pim and the Millions of Stars

by Murray, Martine

  ‘Even so, I have to go. Ellen is my best friend. Will you come to my house later?’ Molly still wanted Pim to help. She needed him. She had even felt happy to see him leaning there lazily on the bridge with his hands dangling and his long legs crossed.

  Pim shrugged and nodded.

  ‘Okay. I’ll see you in an hour.’ He turned to go and then he stopped. ‘If Ellen’s your best friend, why didn’t you tell her about your mum turning into a tree?’

  Molly gaped. Pim wasn’t afraid to say anything, even if it wasn’t his business. How would he ever understand all the reasons she couldn’t tell Ellen? He didn’t understand Ellen like she did.

  Molly frowned and lifted her nose proudly. ‘Ellen’s quite sensitive. It would upset her. I didn’t want her to worry about me.’ Molly turned away and she walked as fast as she could. It was true, Ellen would worry. But what she hadn’t said was that Ellen would be terrified of something as unearthly as this. She may not even believe it. But Molly wasn’t going to give Pim a chance to venture an opinion. She didn’t want to hear it, whatever it was.

  CHAPTER 16

  Snakebite

  Ellen’s mother had short brown hair, large shoulders and sturdy shoes. She smiled easily and laughed in happy bursts, her voice always with a firm sound to it. But when she opened the door to Molly she looked quite a different sort of woman. She wasn’t as upright, and instead of sturdy shoes she wore slippers and blue pyjama pants, and everything about her seemed crumpled. But she gathered herself and stood straight, and she burst out, ‘Oh, Molly, we’re so worried.’ She drew Molly towards her, and ushered her into the kitchen. Ellen’s crumpled mother poured Molly a blackcurrant cordial, and she perched on a kitchen stool, seeming too tired to stand.

  ‘May I see Ellen?’ said Molly. ‘I haven’t been at school so I only just heard she was sick. What’s wrong with her?’

  ‘Well, that’s the problem, Molly. No one knows exactly. It all started with the snakebite.’

  Molly gasped. Of all people, Ellen was the least likely person to get bitten by a snake. She refused to walk in long grass or to climb over woodpiles or even to swim sometimes in the creek, all because of the possibility of snakes. ‘Was it a brown?’ Brown snakes were deadly, but so were tigers.

  ‘It was a brown,’ Ellen’s mother said. ‘It was in the shower. We don’t know how it got in there. But we took her to the hospital quickly enough. She should have recovered, but she hasn’t…’

  Ellen’s mum stopped and tilted her head, as if the weight of it all was leaning on her and she might topple over. She sighed and looked out the window at the garden with its brisk arrangement of lawn, fence and tree.

  ‘Now there are complications. Ellen is very weak and she can’t seem to eat much. But I’m sure she will be happy you’re here. She has been upset that she hasn’t seen you.’

  Molly dropped her gaze. She was ashamed. What sort of best friend takes so long to visit? But she couldn’t explain. She bit her lip to keep it all in.

  Ellen’s mother led Molly into the bedroom, which was dim as the curtains were drawn. Ellen’s mother changed as she entered the room. She spoke to Ellen in firm, reassuring tones, as if there was very little wrong. She sat at Ellen’s side, told her Molly was there, and patted and kissed her before getting up to leave them alone.

  Ellen lay on her back. Her hair was not in plaits but fell around her head as if it had spilled. She turned to see Molly. It seemed a great effort for her to do that, but her face brightened immediately.

  ‘Hi, Ellen.’ Molly knelt down next to her.

  ‘I’m pretty sick,’ said Ellen.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier. I didn’t know you were sick.’

  Ellen struggled to sit up a bit.

  ‘I can’t believe you got bitten by a snake,’ said Molly. ‘Did it hurt a lot? It must have. But why are you still sick? Why can’t you eat?’

  Ellen blinked as if this rapid fire of questions was more than she had the energy or will to consider. Then she lay back to stare at the ceiling and sighed.

  ‘Because I don’t feel like it.’ She blinked again. ‘I’m too tired to eat or walk or anything.’

  ‘Well, you have to eat. Even if you don’t want to. Just see it like maths, something you have to do.’

  Ellen dismissed this wisdom with a slight frown. ‘Has your mama come back from Cuba yet?’ Ellen said, and Molly was glad to see her face gather itself to express something, even if it was worry.

  ‘Not yet. I didn’t go back to school till today.’

  Ellen stared incomprehensibly at Molly. She closed her eyes for a moment.

  ‘Why didn’t you want me to help? Did you think I would be too scared?’

  ‘No, of course not. It was just…I was just managing fine on my own. And…’ Molly stopped. She was going to say that since Ellen hadn’t really taken the threat of the Grimshaws seriously that had made her think Ellen wouldn’t take any of it seriously, but Ellen was sick and she didn’t need to be worried by Molly’s feelings.

  ‘And Ellen, you’re my best friend, and I can’t get on with life till you’re better. I’m going to make you something, and you have to promise me you will use it and get well.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ellen smiled, and she looked for a moment like her old self. Molly stood up. She squeezed Ellen’s hand and left the room.

  Molly was convinced that all Ellen needed was a little bit of courage and surely she had that. Ellen could sing loudly and beautifully in front of anyone, while dancing too. That took something. Was it courage? Maybe confidence. Ellen had that. She had her own kind of strength.

  Molly’s mama made an oil, a green oil, that was meant to cure everything. She could give it to Ellen, as long as she could find the recipe and make it. Was the main ingredient the sap of spurge weed? As Molly walked home she began to look out for it.

  When she arrived at her house she had a large bunch of spurge and her fingers were sticky with sap. Pim was waiting at the tree, sitting there with his back against the trunk.

  ‘What’s that for?’ he called out.

  ‘We have to make some green oil for Ellen. She really is gravely ill. Miss Todd wasn’t exaggerating. She got a snakebite from a brown, and it has made her weak.’ Molly threw the pile of spurge at Pim’s feet and washed her hands at the garden tap.

  Pim picked a piece up and sniffed at it.

  ‘Molly,’ he said. ‘How come everything in your life is so strange? And urgent? And to do with plants and life and death?’

  Molly frowned. She began to pluck rather violently at the spurge leaves. Strange was exactly what she didn’t want her life to be.

  ‘I thought you wanted to help,’ she said.

  ‘That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? I like it when strange stuff happens. Especially when it’s big. When something’s at stake.’

  He shrugged, and Molly stopped plucking quite so crossly at the spurge. She hadn’t expected this. For one thing, Pim was a boy, and for another, he hardly knew her, or Ellen either. And he always seemed such a tough boy. She handed him a couple of stalks.

  ‘You need to get the leaves off, and then we’ll get t
he sap out,’ she said.

  ‘But what about your mum? We’re running out of time. Shouldn’t we be working on that?’

  Molly nodded. She hadn’t forgotten, but picking the spurge had reminded her of times she used to gather herbs with her mama, and the stirring of these old feelings for plants had opened a part of her mind that she had been keeping closed. She had a feeling this was important; it was going to help her get closer to understanding the Mama tree. Perhaps it was like turning her mind over with a hoe and loosening it enough that seeds might begin to grow.

  ‘Once this is done, we’ll go inside and I’ll show you Mama’s notebooks. See if you can find any clues in them. They won’t be what you expect, though.’

  Molly paused and screwed up her nose. ‘Thanks for helping me, Pim. That pulley you built, well, it’s so much nicer for me when it’s dark to have Maudie up there with me. You know I hate the dark.’ What she meant to say was that more than anything it was having him there with her, even right then, that made all the difference. But it was easier to thank a boy for a thing than for a way of being. And Pim already seemed awkward, as he bent his head and mumbled something about it being okay.

  They sat outside under the Mama tree, plucking at the spurge and squeezing the sap into a jar, while the tree bent its branches to shade them in the warm summer afternoon.

  CHAPTER 17

  The Red Notebook

  Molly took Pim inside the house and handed him Mama’s red notebook. It was a solemn occasion; Molly had only ever invited Ellen inside before. Pim stood with his back against the old wood stove in the middle of the room. He held the book reverently as he gazed around. Molly loved the house on late summer afternoons, when the sun was low and came in with a deep golden light and made the dust motes sparkle.

  ‘I tell you what, Molly. Even your house feels, well, it feels like a circus or a gypsy tent. It’s not like most people’s houses. You’re lucky.’

  ‘Lucky?’ Molly laughed. She sat down at the desk where her mama worked. Behind her were shelves stacked with small amber-coloured bottles with white lids and labels such as Lion’s foot, Loosestrife, and Loquat written in black texta. ‘I bet if you lived here you’d wish you could live in a normal house, same as everyone else.’

  Pim snorted. ‘Why? Why would I want to be like everyone else? Boring. The world is full of people just like everyone else.’ He picked up a bottle. ‘Marshmallow! What’s that for?’

  ‘For softening, actually. When you’re angry, you chew the root and meditate on your heart becoming warm, and you try to bring that warmth to the person you’re angry at.’

  Molly was surprised she knew that. She was even more surprised she had told Pim, especially since feelings of the heart were not something she wanted to talk about with a boy. Perhaps she wanted to impress him with the things she knew that were different from what everyone else knew.

  ‘You can eat mallow. Most people think it’s a weed, but it’s actually more nutritious than spinach.’ She tried to sound casual. ‘Is that why you hung the angel on the flagpole? To be different?’

  Pim grinned. ‘Nuh, I’m not trying to be different. Truth is, I like to find ways to make school more interesting. I have a whole book of photos of that angel in all sorts of different places.’

  ‘What do you want to learn at school?’

  ‘Not footy, that’s for sure. And not multiplication tables. I want to know how stuff works. And how to make one thing become something else. Light, for instance, or sound. What does it feel like to fly? How does an albatross guide itself as it flies across the ocean? What’s a star? It’s not your kind of magic, but it’s something.’

  Molly considered this. How could a boy not like football and like light and sound instead? These were not things that he liked; they were what coloured the world, what gave it a certain feeling. She was about to reply that the magic was not hers but her mama’s, but she stopped herself. She’d always hidden anything that belonged to her mama’s world. But maybe having a feeling for plants was just like having a curiosity for how things work. Maybe Molly should start her own red notebook, take care of her knowledge. Knowledge was valuable, after all.

  ‘Smell this. It’s meadowsweet,’ she said, handing a bottle of tincture to Pim. ‘We might use it in the green oil. It gives the ability to change directions.’

  Pim whistled. ‘Right. So a herb can help you change directions? I’m not saying I don’t believe, but I’d like to see for myself.’

  Pim bent his head to examine the red notebook. He drifted to the couch and sat down next to Claudine who let out a large miaow of protest. When Pim showed no sign of moving, Claudine leapt from the couch and circled Molly’s leg sulkily. Molly, however, was busy pondering what Pim had said and she hardly noticed Claudine. She hadn’t ever imagined anyone would be interested in knowing about weeds. And it hadn’t occurred to her that knowing this stuff could be something to be proud of.

  Molly took the meadowsweet tincture and put it on the desk next to the jar of spurge weed sap. What else did her mama put in the green oil? Fat hen, three-cornered jack, curled dock, sow thistle, prickly lettuce, sticky weed, chickweed, yarrow. All these Molly could identify easily. Her mama used the leaves in pies or salads and boiled the crushed roots in syrup or made ointments by mixing boiled, chopped leaves in lanolin.

  ‘Wow, this stuff is pretty out there! Listen to this,’ Pim interrupted her thoughts. ‘You know what it makes me think? Maybe it’s not a potion that’s going to turn your mama back into a person. Maybe it’s something we have to do. A sort of ritual, or a dance?’ Pim went on excitedly, ‘This page talks about merging with the plant. I think that’s what happened: your mother merged with the tree. One thing became another. So, maybe you should try to merge with the tree too.’

  ‘We should dance with the tree?’ Molly did a shonky pirouette.

  Pim closed his eyes and put the notebook on his head. Molly laughed. He opened his eyes and grinned. Then he came towards her. ‘No,’ he said cautiously. ‘Not we dance with the tree. You dance. I think it’s something you have to do.’

  Molly wasn’t sure she would be able to create the right feeling on her own.

  Pim headed towards the door. ‘I better get going. Mum will start getting worried.’

  ‘Are you coming back?’ Molly’s voice was thin, and it came out with a tremble. It wasn’t that she was scared to stay there alone, because actually she felt safe sleeping in the boughs of the Mama tree, safer than anywhere else. It was more that she felt lonely, lonely in the way you feel when your life feels so very different from anyone else’s. When Pim was there, she felt a little sense that he was sharing her problem. Even if it wasn’t his mama and he couldn’t feel what she felt, as least he knew about it. And once he left, she would be alone again.

  ‘Well, I’ll come back after school tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Molly stiffly. She watched out the window as he grabbed his bike, swung a leg over the bar and glided out of sight. And then she went and lay down next to Maude in the last golden beam of sunlight that spilled in through the window.

  What she really wanted, Molly thought to herself, was to crawl into her mama’s arms and tell her how very hard all this was, and for her mama to tell her it would all be all right.

 
CHAPTER 18

  Dancing

  Molly lay in her bed of branches. Maude was beside her, curled up with her head on her paws. Molly wrapped herself around Maude, and even though Maude didn’t particularly like being cuddled, she put up with it.

  ‘I know you don’t like it, Maude, but that’s why I love you, because you let me do it anyway.’

  Maude raised her head and beat her tail briefly in response, but then sank back down and seemed to fall instantly back to sleep.

  ‘Oh, Maudie,’ said Molly with a long sigh that slid through the night and blended with the other quiet, gentle noises of leaves whispering and faraway owls hooting and distant cars on some highway going somewhere. The world was never completely still and quiet, but the night had a special sort of hushed activity. Things rustled and seemed hidden within the blackness, and it was as if dreams bloomed like shadows and escaped from their moorings and grew in momentous, invisible ways.

  Molly listened to the night. What should I do now? she wondered. Wondering was very different to thinking. Thinking always looked for answers. It was like folding the question up and putting it in the box it fitted into best. But wondering was like going for a walk without a destination in mind.

  Could I dance around the tree like Pim said? Molly wondered. The tree was humming. Was her mama humming to her, calming her? Molly pressed her ear to a branch. The vibrations were smooth and syrupy. She curled herself around the branch. Then she sat on top of it and swung her legs. She was wide awake now. Around her Molly saw the garden: the black, silent forms of the trees and, as she climbed higher, the whole sloping valley of the town. The sky was a dark glowing blue with wisps of clouds, a large white moon and one shining star.