by Penny Tangey
Mum tells Dad Ben about Rhys being sick. ‘It’s definitely not normal . . . lost a lot of weight . . . not usually this quiet . . . third time he’s been sick this month . . . We’ll see how he goes after the weekend.’
If you ask me, Rhys being quiet makes a nice change. Maybe he’s getting more mature.
I am very behind with the washing. There are big piles all over the laundry floor. Luckily, it is Saturday so I should be able to do a few loads today.
I fill up the machine, put in the laundry liquid and press the start button. I lean on the machine as hard as I can while it fills up with water. You have to do this otherwise the machine turns itself off. Mum says I have a special relationship with the washing machine, and no-one else can make it work like I do.
When the washing machine has finished filling I go back to my room. I am writing a letter to Dad Ben, even though I just spoke to him last night. There is nothing like getting a letter.
The washing machine is beeping like mad. It sometimes gets unbalanced while it’s spinning.
Now I have to stay with the machine until it finishes, because if it gets unbalanced once, it will do it again.
When the machine stops spinning I go outside to hang out the washing. I put things on the low side of the Hills Hoist first. Dad Ben used to hang things on the high side for me. Now when I run out of room on the low side I have to stand on a milk crate to reach the high side. Angel watches me hang the washing out. I know she would help me if she could.
When all the washing is hung out I ride my bike to the first paddock to visit Star. It is not a long ride but there is a big hill. When I come to the top of the hill I am relieved to see that Star is there. Sometimes he is not there, I don’t know why, maybe he goes to a gymkhana.
Star is not my dream horse, because he is not grey with a silver mane and tail, but he is a gorgeous chestnut. I think he might look a bit like the chestnut gelding from that book, The Chestnut Gelding, but smaller. I call him Star because he would look even better if he had a white star on his forehead.
I brought Star an old apple that has gone squishy. I put the apple on my hand and offer it to him with my hand completely flat so he won’t eat my fingers. He takes the apple and eats it in one bite. His mouth is frothing and some gets on my hand, but I don’t mind. ‘Good boy,’ I say and pat his face. I wish April and Charlotte could see me now. I do so have horse-handling experience.
I get out my drawing things and sit on a stump. It is even harder to draw a horse when there is a horse in front of me. Star keeps shuffling back and forth so that the angles of his legs keep changing.
It is already three in the afternoon so I think Charlotte’s pony will definitely be at her house now. I can’t wait to meet her pony. I am pleased for Charlotte because she has wanted a horse for almost as long as I have.
I don’t think I will ever get a horse because they are so expensive. It’s not just the horse you have to pay for; you have to get currycombs and hay and pay for a farrier to put their shoes on. I want to get a job, but you have to be fourteen to work at the Tender Chook.
Charlotte has heaps of money because she has a stall at the Captains Hill market. She makes eco-jewellery out of dried fruit peel and eggshells. Her mum helps her. I wanted to buy some earrings from her but Mum said no because number one, they’re a rip-off, and number two, they’re compost.
I am not satisfied at all with my drawing of Star. It is nowhere near as good as my drawing of riding Atta Girl bareback across Russia.
Star has gone away from the fence now. I think he knows he’s not going to get any more apples from me today. Good old Star.
When I get home from visiting Star, Mum is still in her sheep pyjamas on the couch.
‘I thought you were going out tonight,’ I say. ‘I thought Brenda was coming over to look after us.’ I was really looking forward to it because Brenda is fun and lets me have as many chips as I want.
‘I can’t leave Rhys,’ says Mum.
‘But Brenda is a nurse,’ I say. ‘She knows what to do better than you.’
‘Rhys needs me.’
‘Rhys ruins everything.’
‘It’s not Rhys’s fault he’s sick.’
‘If he really is sick.’ I say that last part really quietly.
‘What was that?’
‘Nothing.’ I know she heard me, though, because she looks really mad, so I run to my room and close the door.
2
Wild Brumby
Charlotte is staring at the basketball court.
‘What are you looking at?’ Brianna asks her.
Charlotte sighs. ‘I’m just thinking about Cinnamon.’ Charlotte called her pony Cinnamon because he is light brown like a doughnut.
Charlotte says she hadn’t known how much having a horse would change her life. She says no-one can understand how it feels unless it happens to them. It is one of life’s great experiences.
April says Cinnamon settled in really well and was feeling relaxed, she could tell.
I give Charlotte the card I made. It’s the drawing I did of Star with Welcome Home to Your New Pony! written on the front.
April says, ‘Why is there a picture of a dog?’
I just ignore her.
‘Cinnamon’s not a pony, you know,’ says Charlotte. ‘He’s a horse.’
‘I thought he was only fourteen hands?’ I say.
‘What would you know? You haven’t even seen him,’ says Charlotte.
‘If he’s only fourteen hands, he’s a pony.’
‘That is so superficial,’ says April. ‘The way Cinnamon holds himself, he’s definitely a horse.’
‘Yeah,’ says Charlotte. ‘He has the spirit of a horse.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with being a pony,’ I say. ‘But in the books it says a horse has to be at least fourteen point three hands otherwise it’s a pony.’
April laughs. ‘You’re supposed to say he’s “fourteen three hands”. You don’t pronounce the “point”. Everyone knows that.’
Charlotte laughs too.
April has won the argument, as usual.
The bell rings and we go to line up. On the way Mr Parks stops me and asks why Morgan isn’t sitting with us. I say I don’t know.
It’s a pity that Morgan can’t sit with us, but that’s just the way it has to be. Life isn’t always fair. That’s what Mum said after Dad Tony went away on holidays and took all our furniture.
*
April and Charlotte ask to speak to me before school starts the next morning. They tell me I’m not in the group anymore. You have to have a horse to be in the group.
‘But Brianna doesn’t have a horse,’ I say.
April says I need to stop making excuses.
So now I don’t have a group and I need a horse more than ever.
I am on bin-monitor duty at lunchtime so at least I have something to do. You have to go around the school picking up rubbish with a pair of barbeque tongs. I pretend to be a lobster. I snap up the Prima straw wrappers with my claws. I imagine that my lobster claws are snapping at April’s stupid bony ankles. She would not like that. Some of the Grade 3/4 kids on the bin team start being lobsters too. When we get back to the main bin Mr Parks says our bin team did the best-ever job. Because I was team leader I am going to get a Certificate of Recognition for Leadership at the next assembly, so that’s something. I have never got one of those before.
At the end of the day we get a marble in the jar because there is no rubbish on the floor after we pack up. We are up to twenty-eight marbles, so that’s something too.
The next day I tell Mum I feel sick, but she doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t even take my temperature. She just tells me to get up and get dressed. Of course, Rhys gets to stay home again.
So when I get to school I sit by myself near the portables becau
se I still don’t have a group anymore. But not having a group is only special circumstances. Once I have my dream horse, Atta Girl, I will be back in the group and everything will be okay.
I read my book. It is a really good book about a wild brumby.
When the bell rings for the start of school I don’t have to go anywhere because I am already at the portable. April, Charlotte and Brianna come over to line up. Brianna smiles at me but April and Charlotte don’t even look at me. It’s going to be a long day.
After school we go to the doctors again because of Rhys. I brought my book but I am sick of reading. Even wild brumbies get boring if you read about them all day. I read about them before school, at recess, at lunchtime and at afternoon recess. That is what happens when you don’t have a group anymore.
Mum and Rhys get called in to see the doctor. Mum has to wake Rhys up because he’s fallen asleep on the chair. When he sits up his face is all sweaty.
I sit up straight in my chair. I am ready. When the office lady offers me a glass of juice, I will say yes.
The man next to me keeps coughing. Maybe I will get sick too. Then I won’t have to go to school next week, and that will give me time to get a horse and get back in the group. I breathe really deeply through my mouth. I think the germs are going in and catching on the back of my throat. I swallow hard a few times.
The office lady doesn’t talk to me. She probably thinks I don’t like juice. I have missed my chance because Mum and Rhys come back out again. They weren’t even in there for five minutes.
While Mum is talking to the office lady the doctor comes back out and says, ‘Mrs Wilkins?’
An old lady stands up and starts to walk slowly towards the doctor.
On the way past Mum says, ‘Good luck with him,’ pointing at the doctor. ‘Won’t give you a referral to a specialist unless you’re dead.’
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Wilkins,’ says the doctor, pretending he hasn’t heard Mum.
‘Come on, kids,’ says Mum. We follow her outside and Mum storms ahead to the car, walking very fast like she always does when she’s angry. I half walk and half jog to keep up with her. I pull on Mum’s shirt.
‘Mum!’
She turns around. ‘For heaven’s sake, what now?!’
‘Rhys,’ I say. I point behind us.
Rhys has stopped and is bent over, his hands on his knees.
‘Oh no,’ says Mum. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.’ She runs back to Rhys, crouches down and puts her arm around him. ‘Are you alright?’ she asks.
Rhys nods. He straightens up and tries to walk again but he is too wobbly.
‘Stevie, you get on his other side,’ says Mum.
Rhys walks leaning on both of us and we make it back to the car. He is asleep before Mum even starts the engine.
‘What’s wrong with Rhys?’ I ask.
‘I don’t know,’ says Mum. ‘I really don’t know.’
It’s Saturday and that means the Captains Hill market is on. I love the market. One time I found an amazing carved wood picture of a horse. I thought I could never afford it, but it was only fifty cents because it turned out it was actually made of plastic. I had enough money for the horse carving and a sausage.
Mum is going across the road to the supermarket. I walk behind her.
‘Why are you following me?’
‘You haven’t given me my pocket money.’
‘How can I give you money? You know I haven’t gone to the deli all week because of Rhys.’
‘What am I supposed to do then?’
‘It’s called window-shopping, Stevie.’
It’s an outside market, there are no windows.
‘That’s not fair. It’s not my fault Rhys is sick.’
‘I’m not in the mood, Stevie,’ Mum says. She is so grumpy today.
I walk to the oval where all the stalls are set up. I kick a rock, which was a dumb idea because I am wearing sandals. My toe bleeds a bit but not enough for a Band-Aid.
There aren’t many people at the Captains Hill market today. Maybe because it’s drizzling.
The sausage sizzle smells even better than usual because I know I can’t buy anything. Not even a can of Creamy Soda, which is my favourite. We don’t get to have it at home because good old-fashioned Coke is good enough for Mum.
Charlotte’s stall is across the oval. She and April are working on the stall together today. I used to help Charlotte on the stall when I was still in the group. Charlotte would talk about the jewellery and I would do the money because I’m good at maths.
I don’t want to look at the stalls today since I can’t buy anything. I decide to play Keep Your Eyes on the Ground. In this game you have to look straight down at the ground, put your hands around your eyes and walk around. The aim is to see nothing but grass.
Charlotte and I invented Keep Your Eyes on the Ground. It is more fun to play with two people because you can try to trick the other person into looking up by pretending to be hurt or saying there’s a helicopter.
I am pretty good at it. If I hear someone coming towards me I move to the side so I won’t see their feet or bang into them.
I can tell when I get near Charlotte’s stall because I hear April say, ‘What is she doing?’
Charlotte says, ‘I don’t know.’
‘She’s so weird.’
April and Charlotte are trouble. I just ignore them but it doesn’t work as well as Dad Ben thought it would. I can’t stop thinking about them and remembering when Charlotte and I were still friends.
I make it all around the oval and only see the wheels of a pram and half a squashed hamburger. That is pretty good.
I go back to the car to wait for Mum. She is taking forever.
‘Hello there, Stephanie,’ says a voice.
I look up and see Charlotte’s mum. She is the only one who calls me Stephanie and I hate it. Her bags are made of string and bits of her shopping are poking out. She has three pineapples.
‘Hello, Mrs Watts,’ I say.
‘What are you doing?’ she asks.
‘Waiting for Mum.’
‘You’re not helping Charlotte with the stall today?’ she asks.
‘No.’
‘Well it’s lucky she’s got April, isn’t it? Is that Rhys in the car?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is he alright in there?’
‘Yes.’
Mum comes back. She is angry at her shopping trolley because its front wheel keeps swinging around. She has to zigzag across the car park.
‘Hello, Miranda,’ says Charlotte’s mum.
‘Hello, Joy,’ says Mum. She opens the boot and we lift the bags in.
‘Busy shopping?’ says Charlotte’s mum.
‘Yes,’ says Mum.
‘I’ve just been over at the market,’ says Charlotte’s mum. ‘There are some lovely summer fruits just coming into season now.’
‘If you don’t mind paying five dollars for a bruised nectarine,’ says Mum.
‘Charlotte’s selling her jewellery again today,’ says Charlotte’s mum.
‘Right.’
‘She’s just got a pony and she wants to contribute to his feed. I know the jewellery stall and the pony are a lot of responsibility for an eleven-year-old, but she wants to do it. As I said to Terry, if it gets too much for her, we can reassess.’
‘Right,’ says Mum. We have taken out all the bags now. She pushes the empty trolley back towards the supermarket.
‘Will you be coming over to visit Cinnamon soon?’ Charlotte’s mum asks me.
‘I don’t know,’ I say. It will depend on how long it takes to get Atta Girl and be back in the group.
Mum comes back.
‘I’m off then,’ says Charlotte’s mum. ‘Nice chatting to you, Miranda.’ She walks away.
Rhys has woken up. He rolls down the window. ‘I’m hungry,’ he says.
Mum gets out her purse and hands me a five-dollar note. ‘Go buy your brother a hot chicken roll, Stevie.’
‘Can I have one too?’
‘No.’
‘That’s not fair!’
‘Rhys didn’t have any breakfast.’
‘But I’m hungry too.’
‘Just. Go. And. Do. It.’
I take the money and walk across the road to the Tender Chook. I hate Rhys.
I am in my room rearranging my horseshoe collection (I only have five, so it’s not a big job).
Mum has been in Rhys’s room since we got home from the Captains Hill market.
Suddenly, she barges into my room without even knocking.
‘Get your shoes on,’ she says. ‘We’re leaving.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘I’ve spoken to Brenda about Rhys’s new rash. She says we need to take him to Emergency. Let’s go.’
‘What’s Emergency?’
‘The hospital.’
I have never been to the hospital in Frankston before; we have only ever driven past. Emergency sounds exciting. Maybe they’ll put Rhys on a trolley and wheel him through the corridors really fast. Maybe I’ll get to wear a face mask and walk beside the trolley.
When we get to the hospital we are told to wait. It’s exactly like being at the normal doctors except all the walls are painted white, the chairs are less comfortable and there are no pot plants. If Rhys is sick they should look after him faster.
Rhys puts his head in Mum’s lap. He doesn’t usually let her touch him.
The hospital is not as interesting as I expected. I am longing for adventure. One day I would like to rescue an injured wild brumby. I would break it in and then ride it around for a while. But then I would release it back into the wild because I understand that it needs to be free.
When they finally call Rhys’s name I have to stay in the waiting room as usual.
There are some little kids’ toys on the floor. They don’t really interest me because I am a tween. They didn’t have tweens when Mum was my age, which was sad because there were no training bras. I am really lucky to be born now because I have a pink training bra and a yellow one. I only wear them on special occasions, like for school dress-up day and when I go to church with Nana Dad Ben.