There's a large wooden house in the green Aussie bush with a long, steep gravel driveway heading up to it. It sits on top of a steeply sloping hill and has a gorgeous view. The house is approximately square with two bedrooms, a wide cool verandah out the front and a small park down the dirt road. When I'm in this house, I feel lazy and distant to what's around me, as they are of no consequence.
My favourite place in this house is on top of the cement tank. If you walk out the front door and down the three stairs to your far right, turn left and slip down the red clay muddy slope, you come to a giant's land. There's a huge cement tank on your left with a pipe leading to it from the house roof. On your right is a slightly smaller cement tank with a pump shed in front and it is surrounded by tall skinny trees that make the sunshine blotchy around the back of it.
Sometimes when I visit this house I'm really frustrated and fed up with school, so I grab an exciting looking book and let my limbs guide me to the bottom of the smaller cement tank. When I arrive, even in the middle of the day, it's a spooky half-dark sort of place because of the trees blocking the sun.
I step up onto the old pump shed roof and because it's corrugated tin, it feels like I'm stepping on a line of thick cold poles, pushed together. After I've slid my book onto the tank roof, I place my hands on it about shoulder width apart and heave myself up. When I'm up there, I feel content and all the annoyance just dissolves into nothing. All you can hear is the trees whispering to each other in the wind, like old women gossiping while knitting away. I sit down on the tank with my book in my lap and read with the clouds whizzing past overhead as ants scurry past below.
One day, after about two hours of peace and quiet, someone emerged from the house and climbed onto the pump shed. "Kelly!" my sister yelled. The clouds, the ants and my peaceful environment all came crashing down on me! My blood boiled in my veins. My face hardened.
"It's time for lunch!" Andrea skipped away, chaos in her wake. I reluctantly followed her inside. During lunch, my sister teased me about sitting outside alone.
I jumped up and pulled her hair while screaming "I hate you!" over and over again. I ran outside and climbed on my tank with Andrea hot on my heels. I didn't think Andrea could get up on it because the pump shed was too small, but she did.
As she stood up, her feisty gaze left me and wandered around, drinking in the blotchy sunlight, the gossiping trees, scooting clouds and working ants. Slowly, I saw the anger flow out of the little white figure on the edge of the tank.
"This is wonderful," she managed to choke out while she looked around at my peaceful world. My blood cooled in my veins, my face softened when I saw the change in her.
"I think so." I joined my sister and we looked out over the green, hilly Aussie bush.
Often, when I climb onto my pump shed and look over the top of the tank, I find Andrea already there, a book in her lap and a contented smile on her face.
|Top of Page | Stories List | The Challenge | Project Welcome Page|
This story was created during a
two day literary project
Page Design Copyright Daryll Bellingham, 2000. All rights reserved.
URL of this page : www.storytell.com.au/ggg/story7.html
Last updated - 26/6/2000