very nice,” she said, just before Charlie made a silly face and held up her two fingers in a V.
“Ha ha, let me see that,” I said. Charlie’s eyebrow was raised and she looked almost manic. “If we had Facebook I’d post that, it’s so funny.”
“Imagine the loss to the world,” said Josh. “We are all the poorer for not seeing your selfies on the internet.”
I shrugged. The night after the ‘getting sent out of the shed into the wild-horse-and-hokey-people-infested-paddock’ incident, I had laid in bed and decided to try to learn to be cool with Josh. Do that thing where you heap burning coals on your enemy’s head, whatever that means. Do unto others and so on and so forth. I knew I wouldn’t succeed but I was determined to try. It wasn’t worth all the hassle I was currently going through to keep reacting to his teasing.
“Whatever,” I said and gave him a really cheesy grin, stretching my smile from ear to ear. I could see from his face he was just waiting for me to bite back so that he could come at me with the next insult, but when I didn’t retaliate he looked surprised and stopped. Success! I thought, and nearly wrecked it by laughing at him. I stopped just in time and instead walked away with a secret smile.
“Are you guys ready?” Dad held the swinging kerosene lantern. (Yes, you read that right. Kerosene. Besides the candles, this was the only light source in our shed. I’m talking flammable fire hazards and unsafe, polluting chemicals. Plus the flames made dark black marks on the lantern glass and it was my job to clean them every day. And, despite all this, Dad still said, “Aaaah, this is the life,” as he sat in the dark every night, trying to read the next chapter of his book, Eco-tips for Renewable Resourcefulness; A Home Builders Manual by P. Blah Blah Codswallop’ by the light of the puny little kerosene flame, batting away the mosquitoes and drinking some sort of green tea concoction that he’d started on ‘for antioxidants’. Seriously, the man became deranged when he took that redundancy. One of my next tactics, when and if I ever got to a library or, heaven forbid, to the internet, was to look up his symptoms and try to convince Mum to have him committed so we could get back to our normal lives.)
“Come on, we don’t want to be late,” said Mum. “Ness said 6.30ish and it’s 6.35 already.”
“Doesn’t the woman have a proper name?” I asked. “Isn’t she Vanessa? What is with the whole ‘Ness’ thing? Does she like people to feel like they’re being efficient, missing out on two actual syllables of her name?”
“Coco, just try to be nice please,” said Mum, frowning. “Give the lady a chance. She’s lovely, and she’s had some very hard times. It’s very kind of her to invite us over. This is a great chance to get to know the neighbours. You guys might find some friends.”
“Yeah, friends who are ten year-olds...” I muttered.
“I didn’t say they were ten,” said Mum, heating up.
“Coco!” said Dad. It was a warning. I ignored him.
“You said they were younger than us though,” I said. “Ten, eight, four, two, what does it matter. We’re hardly going to be friends, are we?”
Mum’s face went tight. “Look, young lady. Skip the attitude please,” she said. “I don’t know what your problem is. You’ve been like this ever since we got here, and you’re getting worse.” She put up her finger to wag in my face. “I know you didn’t want to come. But we’re here now, and nothing’s changing for you for at least a year, so get used to it.”
She spat out her words like she could hardly control her voice. I knew better than to challenge her, because quite frankly, the idea of cleaning out that pit toilet made me vomit into my own mouth, plus my new resolution was to be cool, so I turned away but I couldn’t stop a half eye roll spreading out over my face as I did.
“Onward and upward. Let’s go out to
“Ha ha, let me see that,” I said. Charlie’s eyebrow was raised and she looked almost manic. “If we had Facebook I’d post that, it’s so funny.”
“Imagine the loss to the world,” said Josh. “We are all the poorer for not seeing your selfies on the internet.”
I shrugged. The night after the ‘getting sent out of the shed into the wild-horse-and-hokey-people-infested-paddock’ incident, I had laid in bed and decided to try to learn to be cool with Josh. Do that thing where you heap burning coals on your enemy’s head, whatever that means. Do unto others and so on and so forth. I knew I wouldn’t succeed but I was determined to try. It wasn’t worth all the hassle I was currently going through to keep reacting to his teasing.
“Whatever,” I said and gave him a really cheesy grin, stretching my smile from ear to ear. I could see from his face he was just waiting for me to bite back so that he could come at me with the next insult, but when I didn’t retaliate he looked surprised and stopped. Success! I thought, and nearly wrecked it by laughing at him. I stopped just in time and instead walked away with a secret smile.
“Are you guys ready?” Dad held the swinging kerosene lantern. (Yes, you read that right. Kerosene. Besides the candles, this was the only light source in our shed. I’m talking flammable fire hazards and unsafe, polluting chemicals. Plus the flames made dark black marks on the lantern glass and it was my job to clean them every day. And, despite all this, Dad still said, “Aaaah, this is the life,” as he sat in the dark every night, trying to read the next chapter of his book, Eco-tips for Renewable Resourcefulness; A Home Builders Manual by P. Blah Blah Codswallop’ by the light of the puny little kerosene flame, batting away the mosquitoes and drinking some sort of green tea concoction that he’d started on ‘for antioxidants’. Seriously, the man became deranged when he took that redundancy. One of my next tactics, when and if I ever got to a library or, heaven forbid, to the internet, was to look up his symptoms and try to convince Mum to have him committed so we could get back to our normal lives.)
“Come on, we don’t want to be late,” said Mum. “Ness said 6.30ish and it’s 6.35 already.”
“Doesn’t the woman have a proper name?” I asked. “Isn’t she Vanessa? What is with the whole ‘Ness’ thing? Does she like people to feel like they’re being efficient, missing out on two actual syllables of her name?”
“Coco, just try to be nice please,” said Mum, frowning. “Give the lady a chance. She’s lovely, and she’s had some very hard times. It’s very kind of her to invite us over. This is a great chance to get to know the neighbours. You guys might find some friends.”
“Yeah, friends who are ten year-olds...” I muttered.
“I didn’t say they were ten,” said Mum, heating up.
“Coco!” said Dad. It was a warning. I ignored him.
“You said they were younger than us though,” I said. “Ten, eight, four, two, what does it matter. We’re hardly going to be friends, are we?”
Mum’s face went tight. “Look, young lady. Skip the attitude please,” she said. “I don’t know what your problem is. You’ve been like this ever since we got here, and you’re getting worse.” She put up her finger to wag in my face. “I know you didn’t want to come. But we’re here now, and nothing’s changing for you for at least a year, so get used to it.”
She spat out her words like she could hardly control her voice. I knew better than to challenge her, because quite frankly, the idea of cleaning out that pit toilet made me vomit into my own mouth, plus my new resolution was to be cool, so I turned away but I couldn’t stop a half eye roll spreading out over my face as I did.
“Onward and upward. Let’s go out to
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