back just like jeans. They did not trust banks to stay solvent, even during peacetime, so they buried their money in Nescafé jars all over the backyard.
*
I was glad that Outside Ma did not ask me why I had chosen to come to her house that day. I was glad she did not ask why we didn’t come over to her house more often. I was glad that she did not ask any of these questions, because then I might have had to tell her the ugly truth: that Alexander and I were there only because no one else wanted us.
*
“We’re going to William and Joanne’s house!” my five-year-old brother squealed, excited to the point of near-incontinence. After much begging and pleading we had finally been allowed to spend the afternoon at Aunt Meili’s. Aunt Meili was my parents’ family friend and she lived in a big birthday-cake of a house in Keilor, with an unused dishwasher (“to save water”), plastic coverings on the dining table (“to save table”) and a gold lion statue in the hallway near the front door (“to save money”).
My mother stalled our Toyota in the street, noticing that Aunt Meili’s silver Volvo with the numberplate “WANG 88 ” (the eighty-eight for good luck) was not in the driveway. “Aunt Meili is not home,” she said slowly. “I’ll take you to your Outside Ma’s.”
“Just because the Wang Car is not home doesn’t mean that William and Joanne aren’t home!” pleaded Alexander. “Let’s ring the doorbell and see!”
Thirteen-year-old Joanne opened the door. “Oh,” she said.
“I am just leaving them here to play,” said my mother. “You know how they plead and clamour!”
“Oh,” said Joanne, “oh. Okay.” She let us in but, strangely, turned and walked away down the hall, back into her room. We heard her door slam. We stood there like sticks. We did not know what to do. Finally, Alexander and I walked into the lounge room and sat on the sofa. We waited for William. We waited. And waited. And waited. Joanne peered in through the sliding glass door. “Where’s William?” I summoned up the courage to ask.
“He’s in his room,” Joanne told us. It was clear that he did not intend to come out. I felt heavy. I slunk back. “Hey, don’t lean on the sofa!” Joanne scowled. I forced myself to sit up straighter so that my back didn’t touch the leather, and so did Alexander.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, William emerged. Woohoo, I thought, saved! I wanted to clap. William would relieve the boredom! He came towards us. I was just about ready to offer him a standing ovation when he reached past me to grab his transformer toy from the sofa. “Hey, get the clothes off the sofa too!” commanded Joanne. William pushed the half-folded fresh laundry on the sofa into a basket, disappeared into his mother’s bedroom with the basket, and then went back into his own room with the transformer, the door slamming behind him. Satisfied, Joanne retreated to her room.
Suddenly I knew . It was the nits. Somehow they had found out that we had nits. Occasionally a head emerged from the white blanks of their doorways to check up on us, accompanied by an order – “Don’t lie your head on the armrest!” or “Don’t sit like that!”
Defeated, Alexander and I knew there was no way to remain on the sofa and not offend our precocious prison wardens, so we slid ourselves onto the floor. There was nothing for us to do. I ran my fingers through the dark pink carpet with the patterned rivulets running through it like scars and wondered what Joanne and William were doing in the lolly-coloured depths of their rooms. The Venetian blinds were drawn, and the entire lounge room was haunted by pinky-purple shadows.
Wish I had my book, I thought. During our epoch on the floor, my brother and I did not speak to each other. “Let’s lie on the floor and spread our army over their perfect carpet!” I wanted to tell him. “Come on, come on, I command you to do it!” I imagined a whole army emerging from the
*
I was glad that Outside Ma did not ask me why I had chosen to come to her house that day. I was glad she did not ask why we didn’t come over to her house more often. I was glad that she did not ask any of these questions, because then I might have had to tell her the ugly truth: that Alexander and I were there only because no one else wanted us.
*
“We’re going to William and Joanne’s house!” my five-year-old brother squealed, excited to the point of near-incontinence. After much begging and pleading we had finally been allowed to spend the afternoon at Aunt Meili’s. Aunt Meili was my parents’ family friend and she lived in a big birthday-cake of a house in Keilor, with an unused dishwasher (“to save water”), plastic coverings on the dining table (“to save table”) and a gold lion statue in the hallway near the front door (“to save money”).
My mother stalled our Toyota in the street, noticing that Aunt Meili’s silver Volvo with the numberplate “WANG 88 ” (the eighty-eight for good luck) was not in the driveway. “Aunt Meili is not home,” she said slowly. “I’ll take you to your Outside Ma’s.”
“Just because the Wang Car is not home doesn’t mean that William and Joanne aren’t home!” pleaded Alexander. “Let’s ring the doorbell and see!”
Thirteen-year-old Joanne opened the door. “Oh,” she said.
“I am just leaving them here to play,” said my mother. “You know how they plead and clamour!”
“Oh,” said Joanne, “oh. Okay.” She let us in but, strangely, turned and walked away down the hall, back into her room. We heard her door slam. We stood there like sticks. We did not know what to do. Finally, Alexander and I walked into the lounge room and sat on the sofa. We waited for William. We waited. And waited. And waited. Joanne peered in through the sliding glass door. “Where’s William?” I summoned up the courage to ask.
“He’s in his room,” Joanne told us. It was clear that he did not intend to come out. I felt heavy. I slunk back. “Hey, don’t lean on the sofa!” Joanne scowled. I forced myself to sit up straighter so that my back didn’t touch the leather, and so did Alexander.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, William emerged. Woohoo, I thought, saved! I wanted to clap. William would relieve the boredom! He came towards us. I was just about ready to offer him a standing ovation when he reached past me to grab his transformer toy from the sofa. “Hey, get the clothes off the sofa too!” commanded Joanne. William pushed the half-folded fresh laundry on the sofa into a basket, disappeared into his mother’s bedroom with the basket, and then went back into his own room with the transformer, the door slamming behind him. Satisfied, Joanne retreated to her room.
Suddenly I knew . It was the nits. Somehow they had found out that we had nits. Occasionally a head emerged from the white blanks of their doorways to check up on us, accompanied by an order – “Don’t lie your head on the armrest!” or “Don’t sit like that!”
Defeated, Alexander and I knew there was no way to remain on the sofa and not offend our precocious prison wardens, so we slid ourselves onto the floor. There was nothing for us to do. I ran my fingers through the dark pink carpet with the patterned rivulets running through it like scars and wondered what Joanne and William were doing in the lolly-coloured depths of their rooms. The Venetian blinds were drawn, and the entire lounge room was haunted by pinky-purple shadows.
Wish I had my book, I thought. During our epoch on the floor, my brother and I did not speak to each other. “Let’s lie on the floor and spread our army over their perfect carpet!” I wanted to tell him. “Come on, come on, I command you to do it!” I imagined a whole army emerging from the
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