Mahalia

by Joanne Horniman

  Matt felt luxurious, having the whole day with Eliza and Mahalia stretched ahead of him. His mother had once said that earth was the right place for love, quoting some poet or other. She was right. It was. Trees, grass, sky, birds, soft, warm air caressing your body . . . it was a friendly planet to be alive on, a kind planet, and one where you could love, if that luxury came your way.

  ‘What do you want for Mahalia?’ Eliza said suddenly. ‘You know, if a good fairy arrived to bestow graces on her.’

  Matt considered her question, but he didn’t need to think for long.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘all the ordinary things that parents want for their children. That she grow up strong and healthy and happy.’

  Eliza put another piece of orange into his mouth. He savoured its sweetness.

  ‘I want her to be confident and unafraid . . . to find something that she really loves to do, that she’s good at. You know, not just a job to make money . . . some kind of passion . . .’

  Eliza sucked on a piece of orange, carefully, sucking the juice out from one end. Matt watched her mouth, the keen movement of her white teeth. He could kiss her now, he thought. Before, the memories of Emmy were too raw for him, but now . . .

  Matt laughed, though he wasn’t sure why. He jumped to his feet and put out a hand to pull her up to face him. He kissed her lightly on the mouth, and said, ‘Come on, let’s go and get lost in this rainforest.’

  Eliza peeled another orange and they wandered towards the entrance of the walk, with Mahalia trotting along between them. Then, with their arms around each other, and Mahalia on Eliza’s hip, they disappeared into the cool darkness of the forest. There was no sound except for their soft footsteps on the fallen leaves, and a bird calling, and a jet plane flying high overhead. They crammed the last of the orange into their mouths and smiled at each other, and the juice ran down their chins.