On Friday I said, 'I will miss eight-year-old Fred.'
Una said, 'In the middle of the night eight year old Fred will take off all her clothes and then she will be in her birthday suit. She will run away outside and nine year old Fred will come.'
Fred said, 'I think nine-year-old Fred will be the same girl as eight-year-old Fred' but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her voice. 'Eight-year-old Fred will rise up and go to Heaven,' said Fred.
For her birthday, Fred wanted to get her ears pierced. I made an appointment and took her to the chemist (I wanted to go to a tattoo parlour, but Martin didn't approve). 'Do you want me to count to three?' Lauren the Beautician asked. 'Or do you want me to just do it?'
'Just do it,' Fred said. Bang. Bang. She flinched. It hurt more than she thought it would. She didn't cry.
Later she joined the conspiracy. 'It didn't really hurt,' she told Una. 'It just felt like a pinch.'
'I just got my ears pierced,' Fred would tell people after we left the chemist - the ladies in the toyshop, people in the cafe. Only women though. She leaned forward to me at the cafe. 'All the women here have pierced ears.' My ears are pierced but I don't usually wear earrings. I was nine like Fred when I had mine done. I still remember the shock of pain, the loud noise of the gun.
Fred kept saying to me, 'I just got my ears pierced.' It was like she had to rethink herself.
Our appointment was at 12.30. She was born in the early afternoon. So eight year old Fred really left then. And nine year old Fred, in the end, is really quite a different girl after all.
'Maybe one day,' Fred said to me that night before her birthday, 'eight year old Fred will visit. Maybe one day you will see her again.'
The ghost of the girl you once were is everywhere Frederique. She slips in and out of the shadows of your face, and in your brother's face who is so much like you. She brings messages from the past, but I cannot send a message back to her. She does not stay to notice what the world has become without her. She is a spirit of the wind, and nothing will pin her down, she is the moment between breaths, she is here, she is here, but when I reach out to touch her she is gone.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Sunday, April 01, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Dear Easter Bunny
Fred
Dear Easter Bunny,
I would be verygra greatful if you could send me a chocolate bunny and a butter cream egg. Also dad says that he wish's that the basket on the picture was real so can you please try to make it real. Can you also send me a pretend chick and some chocolate eggs. Happy easter! fr love Fred xoxoxo
Una
Dear Easter Bunny
I will be very graetfull if you could send me a pet bunny.
Dear Easter Bunny,
I would be very
Una
Dear Easter Bunny
I will be very graetfull if you could send me a pet bunny.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Shortlisted
Only Ever Always has been shortlisted for the Aurealis Awards. A few friends are on the list this year in the various categories (including mine!), and lots of books I admire are there so I am thrilled to be included among them.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
This one's for you
This is for the love forlorn and the love homesick
For the love afflicted and the love addicted
The love ambiguous and the love confused
This is for the one who was loved and left
And for the leaver and for the ones who saw it coming
And said it or didn’t say
This is for the love losers and the love lost
This is for the love-in-a-mist and the love-lies-bleeding
And for the love-in-the-afternoon
And the love-on-a-bicycle
And the love-between-two-slices-of-bread
This is for the love blind the love deaf
The love wounded and the love dead
This is for the ones who turned off the machine
This is for the ones who called it
This is for the love heroes the love battlers the love survivors
This is for the victims the love scarred
This is for their children who will grow up
And love
This is for the love cooks and the love sweepers
The love makers and the love sleepers
The love bankers and the love spenders
For stay at home lovers and for working love
This is for the ones who updated their status
Who rewrote their bios
Who pictured themselves in someone else’s profile
This is for the love simple the love basic
This is for what I did for love and all the things I didn’t do
This is for you
For the love afflicted and the love addicted
The love ambiguous and the love confused
This is for the one who was loved and left
And for the leaver and for the ones who saw it coming
And said it or didn’t say
This is for the love losers and the love lost
This is for the love-in-a-mist and the love-lies-bleeding
And for the love-in-the-afternoon
And the love-on-a-bicycle
And the love-between-two-slices-of-bread
This is for the love blind the love deaf
The love wounded and the love dead
This is for the ones who turned off the machine
This is for the ones who called it
This is for the love heroes the love battlers the love survivors
This is for the victims the love scarred
This is for their children who will grow up
And love
This is for the love cooks and the love sweepers
The love makers and the love sleepers
The love bankers and the love spenders
For stay at home lovers and for working love
This is for the ones who updated their status
Who rewrote their bios
Who pictured themselves in someone else’s profile
This is for the love simple the love basic
This is for what I did for love and all the things I didn’t do
This is for you
Friday, February 03, 2012
First Day, New School
1. Una, Grade One
You are stalky arms and legs
And a stiff green dress.
You are a backpack
And a broad rimmed hat.
You are eyes peering out
From under the rim.
You are a cubby hole
With your name on it.
You are your lunchbox.
You are the new girl on the mat
Sitting closest to the teacher.
I am goodbye.
2. Fred, Grade Three
You bounce
on the balls
of your feet.
Your worried smile
shows a gap.
You ask me not
to kiss you goodbye.
But your hand gives
the secret signal:
two quick pulses.
A single heartbeat
to tell me you love me
that right now
you need to be loved.
3.
Two girls vanish into a world
made for them. I swim
through a sea of parents,
strangers,
into the quiet of the deserted playground
looking for my husband's face.
You are stalky arms and legs
And a stiff green dress.
You are a backpack
And a broad rimmed hat.
You are eyes peering out
From under the rim.
You are a cubby hole
With your name on it.
You are your lunchbox.
You are the new girl on the mat
Sitting closest to the teacher.
I am goodbye.
2. Fred, Grade Three
You bounce
on the balls
of your feet.
Your worried smile
shows a gap.
You ask me not
to kiss you goodbye.
But your hand gives
the secret signal:
two quick pulses.
A single heartbeat
to tell me you love me
that right now
you need to be loved.
3.
Two girls vanish into a world
made for them. I swim
through a sea of parents,
strangers,
into the quiet of the deserted playground
looking for my husband's face.
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