And Did Those Feet ...

by Ted Dawe

  We all assembled in the Palace, as the boys called it, for a feed. I was really hungry by that stage and dying to bog in but there was a little waiting period before anyone could start. We sat on the circle of chairs with the others in our families. When I saw the kids and adults combined I realised there was quite a mob of us, especially for the country where more than four people is considered a crowd. Slowly our chatter died away and I noticed that even the kids all began to “serious up”. Finally Uncle Frank stands up and recites

  “Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright

  in the forests of the night …”

  It’s a good poem, my mum used to read it to me in bed sometimes from a book called Leaves of Gold.

  When he got to the end a few of the adults muttered “Spoken,” which I guess is like “Amen, Brother!” After that, we all stood and Aunty Lorna began to sing a song. Now I could see where Jamie gets his singing voice from. Her voice filled that room like warm air. It began like this:

  “And did those feet in ancient time

  Walk upon England’s mountains green?”

  After this everyone else joined in. Surprisingly, I did to. Somehow it’s a song I know. We used to sing it in assemblies at school. There’s a freaky coincidence eh?

  When we got to the part which goes “Till we have built, Jerusalem…” everybody in the hall really went for it. Really rattled the windows.

  After that we all got stuck in to the food. This kind of food isn’t my favourite. Once again it was honey this, honey that. Bees are pretty important to this bunch. The cakes were heavy and tasted a bit like carrots. You had to swamp them in whipped cream to get them down. Uncle Frank broke out some stuff called mead. It comes from bees too but it’s strictly for the adults, which, to put it another way, means it’s some sort of wine. After a while everyone’s cheeks seemed a bit redder and some of the men sure got loud. I know what that’s about. Same old, same old.

  It was getting to be night-time so we kids organised a game of hide-and-go-seek in the dark. When night falls in the country it is very dark at first, only lightening up when the stars come out.

  When it was my turn to look for everyone I had to do it with my ears rather than my eyes. I fell over Ewan who was lying right in front of me, as quiet as a mouse. It’s a hard enough game in the day time but at night, in long grass, it’s almost impossible. You have to want to be found, otherwise you’re in for a long wait, lying there in the damp. The trick is to give the others a few signals in the form of squeaks or farting noises maybe. What it means is “I’m sick of this, how about finding me?” Before long we had found everyone except Lara.

  I got the idea that she’d joined the Doppi and was now living underground doing everything the other way round. We searched everywhere but with no luck. There were no signs and no noises. She was nowhere to be found. It was like she had disappeared off the face of the planet. It was hopeless.

  We were getting a bit worried. It wasn’t like a game any more. Not fun. Someone went off and told the adults. Soon I saw them all coming out of the Palace carrying torches. It was a full-on search. I noticed that there was a tense feeling amongst us, everyone knew that this had gone on too long. I heard someone say, “It’s not the first time she’s done something like this. She’s very stubborn…” I felt a bit guilty. I couldn’t help feeling that it was partly my fault. I shouldn’t have outdone her in the story telling. It wasn’t that important to me. Honest.

  I have always hated searching for things. Now I discovered that this includes people. For a moment I remembered those searches I forced on poor Yoke-Lin when I hid her stuff. No wonder she left us.

  After about twenty minutes I was really sick of looking but I felt I should keep on just for appearances. I wandered off to talk to Pimpernel. I was sure that at least he would have something useful to say on the matter.

  It is hard to spot a black pig in the dark so I was pleased to find that he was standing by the fence waiting for me when I got near his paddock. I clambered over the squeaky wires and sat down beside him with my arm around his neck. I had to explain the whole situation from beginning to end. He’s a good listener, never interrupts. Finally I said, “I don’t know where she is, do you?”

  You can see why I kept these human-to-pig conversations to myself eh? It’s not a good look.

  Pimpernel went “Nnnnnnnnnnnngh” and then flicked his curly tail in a special way. I know what that means. It means “Follow me”. We wandered across the paddock to where Satan was chained up to his kennel. Pimpernel stood just outside the range of the chain staring. He’s pretty smart when it comes to Satan, he knows to keep his distance. Immediately I realised what he was telling me. Of all the possible places on the farm to hide, she had chosen the worst. Lara was hiding in Satan’s kennel.

  I wandered around peering at the dark opening. It was impossible to see anything inside. I called out “Lara!” but there was no answer. I looked over at Satan, he seemed pretty uninterested and was pulling grass noisily out of the ground nearby. Failure was not an option.

  I was going to have to go in.

  I knew what that meant … being on my knees in front of the goat kennel with a sex-mad Satan right behind me.

  Do I go in or is it best to get the adults?

  Of course getting the adults would be the easy option, but that also meant giving away some of the glory. I wouldn’t do that. I wracked my brains for a cunning plan. I was determined to use my superior intelligence, to show Satan why he was just a black goat tied to a box in the paddock while I was able to wander around doing what I liked. It wasn’t a great plan but it was all I could come up with in the space of thirty seconds or so. I would rush forward and dive into the kennel before the goat guessed what was happening.

  I turned away and wandered off a bit like I had lost interest. Pimpernel stood staring at me, knowing something was up, probably nervous on my behalf. Out of the corner of my eye I watched, waiting until the goat was occupied with a particularly tough tuft of grass, then I sprinted forward and dove into the dark hole. Next thing I knew was clonk! I had banged heads with Lara who had been watching me all the time from her little hidey hole.

  “Gaaaar!” she screamed.

  I was pretty stunned but I had just enough brain power to get my hind legs safely inside the goaty smelling chamber.

  “You idiot … idiot … idiot. Why did you do that?”

  I could feel a big lump coming up on my forehead. “I couldn’t see you … and I had to beat the goat.”

  “You nearly knocked me out.”

  “I nearly knocked me out too.”

  My brain damage didn’t seem to matter to her. We were both crammed into this little kennel hardly able to move. It looked as if I would have to go out bum first, something I wanted to avoid at all costs.

  We waited for a while crammed tight, wondering what to do. I managed to turn around so I was facing outwards. There was just enough room to squeeze my throbbing head along the tin roof of the kennel. My hair did a good job removing all the spider webs at the same time. Eventually we were both lying in the same direction and I could feel Lara’s breath on my face. I don’t think I had ever been so close to a girl before. It was strange and sort of exciting. Much as I wanted to get out of the smelly goat box there were good reasons for staying in there too.

  Satan came over. He lowered his head sort of casually until it filled the entire doorway. His horns were gleaming in the moonlight and his jaws were chewing hard. The kennel was swamped in goat breath. This was serious. He was a truly evil goat and now he wanted to make it clear that he had us exactly where he wanted us. He was gloating. There’s nothing worse than a gloating goat.

  “Well, Bolt Upright,” Lara said, “how are you going to get us out of this one?” She paused to let it sink in and then she said, “I know, you will tell the goat a few snappy one liners and we can make our escape while it’s laughing its horns off.”

  Her voice was full of sarcasm. I knew that she was paying
me back for not respecting her Doppi story.

  “Maybe we can join the dopeys, go underground.” It was all I could manage.

  She thrashed around at this and banged my nose with the top of her head. I jerked my head back suddenly and banged it against the roof of the kennel. This rescue wasn’t going well.

  “Who’s in there?”

  It was an unfamiliar voice. I was trying to track it when Lara yelled out, “We are. Lara and Bolt Upright.”

  “Everyone’s looking for you,” said the voice. “Why don’t you come back?”

  “The goat!” I yelled. “He won’t let us.”

  “Oh,” was the response.

  A little while later the goat’s head disappeared and there was a grunting sound.

  “Come on out now. It’s okay.”

  I wriggled slowly out expecting some trick to be played on me and to feel goat hooves on my shoulders. When I was completely out I turned and saw that the voice had come from Ewan. It was the first time I had heard him say anything louder than a mumble. His voice was light and sweet. Sort of delicate. But that wasn’t the only strange thing. There he was, sitting on the back of Satan holding his horns. And Satan was letting him. Lara wriggled out next and stood up slowly and stiffly by my side.

  “Well, Bolt, it looks like Ewan’s the one with special powers.” She put a lot of effort into this and sounded super-sniffy.

  Straight after that, as if thrilled to get the last word on the matter she walked back to the Palace of Wisdom, no doubt to make some sort of explanation.

  “How come you never talk?” I asked Ewan.

  He shrugged his shoulders and whispered, “Don’t want to.” Then with a neat sort of cowboy manoeuvre he leapt off the goat and we both walked back together.

  Back at the house we had to wait around for a while until all the little search parties had been called off. When Lara’s parents arrived, they came running over and gave her a big hug. She looked at me with an evil smile on her face. I could tell there was still payback happening. I was surprised though that no one was angry, and that no one got told off. I admired the adults for that. I knew it was tough holding back. They were sort of mellow. It must have been the mead.

  After this it was time for everyone to go back to their farms around the mountain. There were lots of hugs and handshakes going on. I noticed for the first time that out on the main road, a few cars going past slowed right down to check everything out. Locals I guess. People are a bit nosy out there in the country. When the last of them had driven off we went back inside and Iain and Jamie made Milo for everyone.

  Aunty Lorna asked me to help put Wee Jock down to sleep. I had never helped with little kids before. Didn’t know what to do, but it didn’t seem to matter. I was just an extra pair of hands while she did things with pins and nappies, tight little cardigans and fluffy trousers with feet-things sewn on the bottoms of the legs.

  “Did you enjoy the League meeting, Sandy?” she asked as she draped the baby over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, it was cool.”

  “What was the best part?”

  I was going to say the hide-and-go-seek or finding Lara but for some reason I said, “Hearing Ewan talk.”

  She laughed. She laughed easily. “That’s a good sign.”

  What did that mean? I wondered.

  She leaned over to place Wee Jock in the cot and then, as if reading my mind, said “It means that he accepts you. He doesn’t do that to many people, I can tell you. At school he is regarded as a mute. I had to go in one day and get him to talk in front of the principal, otherwise they wanted him sent to Taranaki Base hospital for tests.”

  “It must be hard not talking all the time. I know I couldn’t do it.”

  “He’s found other ways,” she said, and that was an end to the matter.

  THE MOUNTAIN

  IT was about this time that we had what farmers call a “cold snap”. I thought it was pretty cold already but this time there were a few days where the frost was not only all over the paddocks but halfway up the trees too. It was nearly impossible to get me out of bed. The cousins gathered around my bed trying to talk me out but it was no good.

  “Look guys,” I said, “I would love to join you but it’s just too cold. It can’t be done. Sorry.” I rolled over and went back to sleep within twenty-five seconds.

  Some time later, I heard the chug chug chug of the John Deere coming up to the house. The thought crossed my mind that milking must be over and maybe it was porridge time. Next thing I knew there was a sort of harness thing being attached to my ankle. I sat up and immediately saw that the window was open and dear old Uncle Frank had reached in and attached me to the end of the winch. He was all ready to use engine power to haul me out of my warm bed. Now I admit, I am not the fastest on the uptake at times but I got this little scenario quick smart.

  “Okay, Uncle, okay!” I raised my hands like the captured bad guy in a western. “I’m going to give myself up. I’m coming without a fight.”

  I could see the line shortening outside as the electric motor kept wheeling away.

  Uncle Frank stood there for a moment wondering (I reckon) whether to play out his demonstration now he had got it set up. Just as I felt the first tug he kicked the lever and shut off the winch.

  Phew! That was a close thing. I always thought that Uncle Frank, being a sort of thinking dude, would have come at me with a hard hitting quotation from the wisdom of William Blake. Something that included frosty mornings, warm beds and John Deere tractors.

  But I was wrong.

  Even Uncle Frank had his dark side. One thing was for sure though, this was the first and last time I pulled that stunt. From then on I hit the floor, first call…

  I dressed quickly and then the two of us rode on down to the milking shed. I had awoken to a different world out there. The entire hill that the house stood on, the gate posts, the hedges; everything as far as I could see was a wonderland of thick white frost. Even the roof of the cowshed twinkled in the moonlight. What was even more amazing though was the mountain. Normally it was just a sort of charcoal pyramid with a dusting of snow in the creases, but this time it was covered in deep fluffy white stuff from top to toe. It looked like a huge slab of ice cream hovering above the dark green bush line.

  Maybe Iain had been talking to his dad about what happened at the Crystal Pool, maybe it was going to happen anyway, but after breakfast Uncle Frank declared that we were all going up the mountain. I found out later that this was a big deal because he had never taken the boys up there before. I couldn’t help wondering whether he was doing this to cheer me up.

  This time the two adults and Wee Jock were in the front, and the five of us kids were bouncing around in the back. The Landrover was a fridge on wheels. The heater only heated the front cabin and so small puffs of steam lingered around everyone’s mouths. Every metal surface was freezing to the touch and it was mostly bare metal in the back. We were all bundled up in as many layers as possible but it seemed to make little difference. Iain pulled his beanie so low over his head you could only see his nose. Jamie kept his eyes glued to the side window and was singing “There is a tavern in the town,” in a really low voice. It wasn’t a song I knew but by the time we had got up the mountain I reckon I had heard it ten times right through … starting to hum it myself. The twins were wearing matching brown jackets and they were hunched up by the tailgate. With their brown jackets and their neat little heads they looked just like a couple of sparrows. As we drove on there was a hum from under the floor that got louder and louder. It turned into a whine. As its pitch got higher I could feel myself becoming tense, it was like anything could happen.

  Even before we made the bush line there were flecks of snow in the shady parts next to the road, but once we passed the entrance to the National Park it was everywhere; clinging to the tops of trees like white hair, painting the round rocks in the stream beds we flashed by. Before long there was only a narrow black part in the middle of the
white road. No one talked, we drove on sort of awestruck by its radiance. Soon, every last trace of tar seal disappeared and the road became a flat white path heading ever upwards. The steady blare of the coarse-treaded tyres stopped and now it was as though we were floating an inch or so clear of the road. We all just stared out the windows at the white world all around us.

  Still we climbed, higher and higher into a new white world until at last we reached a flat area. It might have been a car park; there was no way of telling, but Uncle Frank pulled over and we all piled out. I stood there turning slowly around trying to take it in. I had never been in snow before. It was cold, silent and untouched. I thought of Mum.

  Next thing I knew I had been hit in the open mouth by a snowball. It was Dougal. From then on the spell was broken and war was declared. Snow was flying sideways at a furious pace. Direct hits were scored and it was a point of pride to see who was the best. As it happened, Aunty Lorna was the stand-out chucker. She had a wicked side arm action and literally never missed. Even a fast moving twin copped one dead on the forehead. What a waste, giving an arm like that to a middle-aged woman.

  Uncle Frank had his own take on this sort of activity.

  “Use the Zen method … (pant, pant) … try not to aim … let your subconscious do it …” (whack).

  Aunty Lorna got him in the mouth with a direct hit, and all I can say about the so-called Zen method was that his subconscious was a lousy shot too.

  As I was scrambling up the bank trying to get out of the way of this devastating hit woman I uncovered a greenish coloured rock, shaped like a pyramid. How often do you see that? I shoved it in my pocket and scrambled on. After a while all the kids were in the trees around the clearing, trying to keep out of range of Aunty Lorna. She stood next to the Landrover with a snowball ready in each hand. Uncle Frank nursed Wee Jock and kept watch against rear attacks. We boys were well beaten and we knew it, so one by one, we came out with our hands above our heads. Aunty just stood there tossing these tennis-ball shaped white objects from hand to hand just in case anyone decided to try something funny.