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November 2nd<\/b><\/p>\nNovember 2nd<\/b><\/p>\n
The chocolate had melted. She was sure.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth Stubbs traced her finger over the gooey maps beneath the cellophane. Telling herself the biscuits would taste no different, she slid the packet deep into her knickers\u2019 drawer to be eaten later. Or would she only admire the wrapping?<\/p>\n
She was sweaty from the bus ride home. Her shirt was sticking to her armpits. She slung her backpack under her desk and unlaced her school shoes. Kicking them away, she peeled off her socks and padded across the carpet. The afternoon sun mirrored the flecks in her jellies as she scooped them up with a grunt, feeling as clumpy and awkward as her brother.<\/p>\n
The mattress sagged beneath her weight. Soft toys went crabwise. Valance frills fluttered as she settled on the edge of the bed.<\/p>\n
The front door slammed shut.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you home, darling?\u201d Her mother\u2019s voice echoed up the stairwell.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, Mum.\u201d Inserting her foot, Elizabeth adjusted the buckle.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow did your English exam go?\u201d<\/p>\n
She could hear Florence mounting the stairs. \u201cGood, Mum.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell,\u201d called her mother from the landing.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s grammatically correct to say \u2018well\u2019!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe exam went well, Mum.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou must be famished after all that thinking.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not.\u201d<\/p>\n
Florence\u2019s shoes made a different squeak as she went back down. \u201cI discovered a new cake shop in Kingston\u2014Italian, the best on the Mornington Peninsula\u2014and I bought you a teensy reward for studying so hard!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you. I\u2019m not hungry!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou must be.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s too hot to eat. My pen melted all over the place and I just want a cool glass\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be silly. I\u2019ll put the kettle on.\u201d Her voice rose from the kitchen. \u201cWe\u2019ll have coffee and you can tell me which essays you chose and why and what you wrote and\u2014oh, everything. We can pig out\u2014like sisters.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, right. You never eat anything, ever!\u201d Elizabeth muttered.<\/p>\n
Removing her school shirt, she pulled on a baggy top, eased a pair of drawstring shorts over her hips and went to the window to check out the Becker\u2019s place diagonally opposite.<\/p>\n
Her azure eyes scanned Ravella Crescent. She was just able to make out Stefan\u2019s silhouette as he moved about his bedroom.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth watched Stefan Becker often. She never told anyone, but she was sure Genna Perrier knew. Sensed it, somehow. Genna and Stefan hung out after school most days, hunting blue-ringed octopuses in the rock pools together. Elizabeth trembled with envy. She yearned to be funky like Genna, to have eyes so dark you could hardly see the irises.<\/p>\n
A sigh burst from her lips.<\/p>\n
Genna had a tan to die for. It was almost as if she were perma-bronzed, whereas Elizabeth\u2019s skin remained wishy and pink no matter what the season.<\/p>\n
\u201cElizabeth!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m coming.\u201d<\/p>\n
Running a comb through her hair\u2014\u201cchic bob\u201d her mother called it\u2014she pulled her mobile phone from her backpack, plugged it into the charger on the dressing table. Skirting the life-size polar bear on the landing, she descended the stairs.<\/p>\n
The dessert sat on the kitchen table. Beside the silver dish were spoons and two mugs of coffee.<\/p>\n
Florence\u2019s taupe shift toned with her hair\u2014also cut in the same \u201cchic bob\u201d. \u201cDa-da! Tiramisu!\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you, I\u2019m not hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have an aversion to wog food, or are you dieting?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2018Wog food\u2019? I hate it when you talk like that!\u201d Pause. \u201cNo, I am so not dieting. I\u2019m just kinda hot. I\u2019m hanging out to go for a walk on the beach and, you know, clear my head.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut tiramisu means \u2018pick me up\u2019 and contains espresso and cocoa.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd mascarpone cheese and zabaglione cream and the others already call me, well, they say things, that I\u2019m fat, and I totally dislike it.\u201d She slumped onto the chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cZabaglione? Does the word remind you too much of that dingy little shop on the highway\u2014which I\u2019m sure you never go into?\u201d<\/p>\n
Elizabeth tensed up, hoping her mother hadn\u2019t poked around among her school socks and discovered the chop-chop. Illegal rolling tobacco padded with straw and purchased from Mrs B at the Zabaglione Woollen Shop.<\/p>\n
She decided to change the subject. \u201cDid you see Bron while you were in Kingston?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBriefly, dear.\u201d Florence pleaded, \u201cGo on! Just have a tiny bit! They say during World War 1 northern Italian women made this scrumptious dessert for men to give them energy to fight and return safely.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut it\u2019s not healthy. Genna\u2019s a raw vegan, and she\u2019s really, really skinny.\u201d<\/p>\n
Florence\u2019s eyes went from blue to slate. \u201cRaw vegan? I\u2019m sure you\u2019re wrong. Namilly Perrier eats tinned food. I see her tossing the empty cans over the fence onto the vacant block of land next door. I\u2019ve watched her pollute our environment, the flies, the disease\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe and Genna have separate kitchens.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, why would you wish to emulate a family\u2014with dysfunctional eating habits? What would that Euro friend of yours know about diet?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGenna\u2019s not from Europe. She\u2019s a Caldoche, born in New Caledonia.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour father said a New Caledonian has just moved into the house on Ti Point.\u201d Florence twisted her pearls around her forefinger.<\/p>\n
\u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, and I wonder why a New Caledonian would come here? Do you think he\u2019s a relation of Genna\u2019s?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan\u2019t be. She\u2019s adopted.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeees. I remember Namilly Perrier turning up in Ravella years ago, small child by her side, some ugly furniture\u2014and no husband!\u201d Florence buried a spoon in the fluffy concoction.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s forget about Genna.\u201d Pulling the dessert out with a plop, she handed the spoon to Elizabeth. \u201cPlease try this. The food will give you lots and lots of energy. You need energy to study.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, all right.\u201d<\/p>\n
The shaved chocolate skimmed down Elizabeth\u2019s throat.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich topics did you choose?\u201d Florence sipped on her coffee, making tiny slushy noises.<\/p>\n
\u201cAren\u2019t you having any? It\u2019s great! Try it before it goes all melted and disgusting.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll have some in a minute. First tell me about your essay topics, the ones you liked best.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I was hanging out for, you know, the one on\u2014remember I talked to you about the amazing book, Not Without My Daughter, written by Betty Mahmoody?\u201d Elizabeth\u2019s cheeks bulged as she spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cWas that the poor woman with the frightful terrorist husband? And wasn\u2019t there a movie\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMoody wasn\u2019t a terrorist, Mum, only a Muslim.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSame thing.\u201d Florence took another sip of her coffee. \u201cThey all believe they\u2019ll go to paradise if they kidnap or maim.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s so not true! Moody was pressured by his family. That\u2019s the reason he changed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd what did the others think of the exam\u2014Stefan?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, he hated it. Like he said he thought the whole thing was totally biased towards us chicks.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVince Becker was telling Joe he plans to have Stefan learn about the service station business with a view to taking over after he graduates from high school.\u201d Florence pushed a packet of cigarettes around in circles on the shiny surface of the table.<\/p>\n
Elizabeth gave her spoon a final lick. \u201cNup. He so won\u2019t do that. Stefan will never go IDB.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIDB?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cInto daddy\u2019s business.\u201d She pushed the empty dish away. \u201cNope, Stefan\u2019s into nature, stuff like blue ringers and marine spiders, Palaeozoic rocks thrown up by the seismic activity of Selwyn\u2019s Fault.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019ll never make money from nature.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m off.\u201d Elizabeth turned to leave.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor a walk. I told you!\u201d<\/p>\n
Easing the front door to behind her, Elizabeth headed for the gate. If only her mother weren\u2019t so clingy, overprotective. Had Bron caused that? About to tug at the latch, she hesitated. Guilty from having eaten the dessert, she made sure the coast was clear. She pushed her finger to the back of her throat, bent over.<\/p>\n
The tiramisu rose up.<\/p>\n
She hawked the dessert into Florence\u2019s prized azalea bushes.<\/p>\n
Excerpt from \u201cBad Grass\u201d \u00a9 Cynthia Rowe, 2009 November 2nd The chocolate had melted. She was sure. Elizabeth Stubbs traced her finger over the gooey maps beneath the cellophane. Telling herself the biscuits would taste no different, she slid the packet deep into her knickers\u2019 drawer to be eaten later. Or would she only admire… Read More Bad Grass<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/cynthiarowe.com.au\/cr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/118"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/cynthiarowe.com.au\/cr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/cynthiarowe.com.au\/cr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cynthiarowe.com.au\/cr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cynthiarowe.com.au\/cr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=118"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"http:\/\/cynthiarowe.com.au\/cr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/118\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":482,"href":"http:\/\/cynthiarowe.com.au\/cr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/118\/revisions\/482"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/cynthiarowe.com.au\/cr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=118"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"Now](\"http:\/\/cynthiarowe.com.au\/cr\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/amazon1.gif\")
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