Page 30 of The Vanishing Place
“It’s just a nice way of—”
“Dad says God’s not real,” said Tia. “But Mum growls at him when he says that. She says it’s disgraceful to God people.”
“Disrespectful,” offered Effie.
“Well,” said June, “people can believe in different things.”
“What do you believe in?” asked Tia.
Effie turned to look at June. Mum and Dad didn’t talk about God stuff. It made Dad angry.
“Well…” June paused, thinking. “I’m not sure I know exactly.”
“Then why were you going to thank him?”
She laughed. “How about we just thank the bush instead?”
“Thank you bush for beans and stew,” Tia said. Then she reached for the spoon and started serving herself.
Effie smiled. She couldn’t help it. Maybe it was Christmas, or the meat, or the fact that June had a tin of peaches and creamed rice for dessert. But she felt a tiny bit less dark. The feeling continued through lunch—well, more like dinner by the time the stew had finally cooked—and when they sat down for presents, it was more than just her stomach that felt warm and full.
June had made Effie and Tia a small journal each, using scraps of paper sewn together with string. She’d decorated the covers with pressed ferns. She’d also sewn them each a summer dress from a floral sheet she’d found in Mum’s room. As Tia twirled in her new dress, and Aiden spun and giggled with her, Effie slipped a small flat package across the table toward June. Inside, wrapped up in a dried leaf, was a pair of Mum’s earrings—two silver ramarama leaves.
“Don’t open it now,” said Effie, without looking at her.
Mum said ramarama were beautiful but hardy shrubs, just like her kids. But Mum was gone, and her siblings needed June now.
“Thank you.” June pressed the small gift to her chest. Then she reached into her pocket. “I’ve got one last thing for you and Tia. But perhaps you might keep them for now, until your sister’s a little older.”
June placed a small box in the center of the table, the cardboard so worn that it had lost its shape.
“One belonged to your mother, and the other…” June paused, her eyes stuck on the little box. “The other used to belong to your grandmother.”
“The one who died?”
“Yes.” June blinked and cleared her throat. “Yes, baby girl.”
“Can I open it?”
June nodded and Effie picked it up. She undid the single piece of ribbon and removed the lid. Her heart pumped as she lifted out the two pounamu stones, both on strings of silver. Effie held the jade swirls in her palm. The stones were perfect, no darks spots or flaws, and their color was as green and vibrant as the trees.
“Kahurangi greenstone,” Effie whispered, hearing her dad’s words. “It means ‘precious treasure.’ ” She looked up. “The West Coast is the only place in the world that you can find it.”
“Yes.” June reached over and moved the two pendants. “And when you put the two swirls together like this, they form a heart.”
Effie stared at the green heart, her own heart still pounding, like something in the stone was calling to her.
“Thank you,” she said, the words little more than a whisper.
June squeezed Effie’s wrist. “They belong to you.”
—
That night, Effie helped June bathe the boys in the big bucket on the floor. Aiden took up the whole thing; just his nose and forehead popped out of the top when he sat down. But Four was like a little fish in a pond, a chubby white blob, apart from the purple birthmark on his neck. It was strange how tiny and huge a four-week-old human could be. He was so small in his cot and in the bath, but when he screamed and demanded to be held, the sound filled the whole hut.
Tia wiped her arms and face with a cloth, still in her dress and still chatting. Effie and Tia had been excused from baths that night, it being Christmas. And girls, Effie was utterly certain, smelled a lot less. They also hadn’t made a trip to the river that day, so the water was running low. Effie hated sloshing buckets up from the river; it rubbed her hands raw and wet her clothes. Hopefully it wouldrain overnight and the roof drums would fill up again. It had been odd, a week of no rain. It always rained in the bush.
As soon as the three young ones were in bed, Effie helped with the last few dishes, then she hurried into her parents’ room. She’d started going in there now to feel close to Mum, to lie on the bed and tell her all sorts of things. June didn’t mind, as long as Effie didn’t make a mess of things and didn’t get dirt on the sheets. June didn’t go to bed till dark, so Effie could also use the room for reading and drawing in her notebook.
