Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER.
Once upon a time there was a blue and green planet floating in space. But we’re not here to talk about that.
Somewhere, in a dusty remote part of that planet were two small children. Small as compared to adults, but they themselves felt that they were quite big. They were four and six, a boy and a girl, a pigeon pair.
They were old enough to dress themselves and pour the milk on their cereal themselves, thank you very much. They were big enough to walk on their own to the park, to the babysitters, to school. Practically grown up really.
Life in this town was dry. The heat was dry, one of the seasons was called The Dry, and the ground was dry. Their mother was dry.
Some days they wondered whether life could dry out your happiness and if that’s what had happened to their mother.
Maybe, they wondered, it wasn’t their mother that had dried up. Maybe it was that their father had sucked the happiness right out of her. He was a big man, they had to tilt their heads back to see his face if they stood too close. He had dark tan lines at his neck and on his arms and ankles. It seemed to them that the room sometimes shrank when he walked into it. Sometimes while he was away, it almost seemed like she was filling up again, but not quite. They wondered what it was that dried up. It wasn’t water.
But then he’d come back, loud and big and taking up all the space, he was like a whirlwind spinning through. It was yelling and wanting and do this and don’t do that and be more this and their lives spun out of the neat little space that they usually fit into. Most of the time they liked it better when he was away. There were more lollies when he was home, but somehow it didn’t really even things up.
When he was away, there were cuddles on the couch before bed with books and stories and Mum’s voice changing with each character.
Some things don’t change whether or not he’s away. Everyday, there’s cereal for breakfast. Everyday, they have to have a bath whether they’re dirty or not. Everyday, Mum’s there in the kitchen with them.
But some of the things that happen every day when Dad’s home, aren’t everyday things when he isn’t. Smacks aren’t everyday things usually. When Dad’s home, they are and they all get smacks for being naughty, even Mum.
Dad says, in his big voice that seems to make the walls shake when he yells, that you get as many smacks as you are years old. Mum’s smacks at night seem to take a really long time.
One day, when Dad left to go back to work, Mum didn’t get up.
It was OK, because they were big kids, they could get themselves dressed and make their own breakfast, so they did. But it didn’t feel right going to the park while Mum was still in bed.
That was a lot of smacks last night. They’re not sure, but they think it was more than how many years old Mum is, even if that is a lot.
They huddled near the front door and held a whispered debate.
She said it was his fault, he tried to get away when Dad was going to smack him. Dad said Mum would get double for teaching him to be a scaredy cat. He should have just taken it like a man.
But, that only works if you’re as big as a man. He’s big, but he’s still only four is what he said.
They wonder if their friends dads gave their mums smacks too? Maybe you just don’t talk about it. Maybe you don’t tell people so they don’t know how naughty you are. Do dads get smacks if they’re naughty? Who gives them smacks then?
They conclude that probably not. They’re pretty sure that their babysitter’s hubby doesn’t smack people. He’s never smacked them or her and they’ve had sleepovers there.
Because of that, they decide to ask Mum if they can run away together.
Mum’s not naughty, she’s the best mum ever.
And because of that, they decided that the best thing to do was pack while she was still asleep.
They went to their room and pulled out the carry-on bags they use for trips to see Nan and Pop. They carefully packed their toothbrushes, some undies, their good clothes and shoes and some play clothes, just like Mum always does. They put in their favourite books and they each snuck the toy they snuggled with in and hid it under their clothes so the other wouldn’t see.
They dragged a chair to the linen cupboard and he climbed up the shelves and pushed Mum’s suitcase down to her.
They pulled it down the lounge room and they snuck in and got Mum’s pretty knickers and bra, her photos and her favourite books. They snuck in again and picked the clothes they thought made her the most beautiful. They kept adding more things that they knew she loved and thinking of more things until there was nothing more to do and they were packed.
They pushed open the door to her room and in the dim and dusty light could make out her face, staring at the wall with tears falling into her pillow.
They climbed up on either side of her and pressed themselves into her warmth. She froze but after a tiny moment her arms snaked around them and she let out a half sob as she relaxed.
For a few moments, the three lay there together in the dim and dusty light, the heat of the day just starting to really make its presence known.
He reached up and stroked the hair back from her face with his small hand and pressed his face into her neck.
“Mum” he whispered “Let’s make a run for it.”