Wahine Day

I don’t know what woke me up.
Was it the wind howling, windows rattling or the unusual light?
Even though the curtains were closed, my bedroom had an eerie brightness; a strange luminous glow as if someone held a hand over a torch.
Something was different!
I sat up. Threw back the covers and swung my legs over the edge my wire wove bed.
The lino was cold.
I noticed a chink of light through the drawn curtains; pulled them back and saw the gap where the trees had been.
Yesterday a row of tall, strong, pinus radiate trees had stood at proud attention outside my bedroom window. But today, there was a gap.

I dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen.
The others were already having breakfast.
Rain hammered the roof.
“No school today,” said Mum. “There’s a storm warning out on the radio.”
“Cool. A day off!” I muttered, my mouth full of porridge.
“Lets go exploring,” said my brother. “It’ll be boring otherwise stuck inside all day.”

“Mum?...”
“Mmm…”
“The tree’s gone!”
The boys looked up. “Yeah right!”
“NO! I mean it. LOOK!”
We plonked our empty plates into the sink and rushed to the window.
“WOW!” exclaimed my brother. “Lets go check this out!”
“Not now!” said Mum. “Maybe later. Its far too dangerous! Go off and play.”

We spent the morning colouring in, playing snap and making spirograph patterns. Outside the storm raged. Now and then bits of iron roofing whizzed past the lounge window. It was very noisy. At times we had to shout to make ourselves heard. During a break in the weather Mum decided to bring in her flower pots, but as she opened the laundry door a sudden gust ripped it out of her hand and off its hinges! She watched in horror as the wind sucked it up, up, up into the air and spat it out again in the garden.
Dad grabbed Mum and held her close.
Our house creaked and groaned.
We were all terrified.
We spent the remainder of the day quietly reading books or staring at the sky till late afternoon.

By the time we ventured outside, the rain had eased off; wind whipped our faces and tugged at our hats.

The giant pine tree lay slumped over the road like a huge green whale; its trunk split, a mass of jagged wood. We smelt the sticky sap, scrambled over branches and ran our fingers through the thick green needles feeling for the biggest pinecones and stuffing them into a sack for firewood.

“Come on you guys!” I said. “Lets go home!”
“Hang on. Wait a bit!” called my brother waving his arms at us. We moved closer to him, climbing branches to get a better view.

“Well. What is it?”
My brother smiled, his hands cupped around something small.
“Look what I found!”
“Oh cute! Poor little thing, must’ve fallen out of it’s nest during the storm.”
“Come on. Lets show Mum.”

My brother stuffed the sparrow into his pocket. We grabbed the sack of cones and headed home.

Mum and Dad were in the lounge sipping soup. A pot was bubbling on the woodstove; a pile of steaming pancakes heaped high on a plate. They smelt delicious! We tucked into the food. The sparrow safe in a shoebox near the stove. The pinecones spitting and crackling in the fire. Outside the wind and rain rattled the roof. Bits of timber and tin flew past the salt-sprayed window.

Dad got up from the couch and pushed the piano up the front blocking our view of a rough and stormy Wellington Harbour.
“Right,” he said. “You kids keep away from that window! I don’t want anyone cutting themselves on flying glass. That’s quite a gale out there!”

That afternoon we played cards and monopoly. No TV. The power was off. All the lines were down. Mum and Dad talked about the passenger ferry, Wahine, stranded on Barretts’ Reef¸ way out in the harbour. We listened to the crackling news reports on Dad’s transistor. My brothers and I pretended to rescue passengers in imaginary lifeboats and argued over who was captain. That night we had tea and bedtime stories by candle light!

A week later, Dad took us out to Eastbourne. It was a beautiful clear blue day. Out in the bay we saw the Wahine lying on its side, so close I felt we could almost walk out to it. We picked our way around the rocks and chose a couple of flat smooth stones.
“Lets play skippers!” I said.
“Chocolate fish for the winner” said Dad.
“You bet!” I laughed and threw by stones into the water.