Hello God
Page 5
My parents are lying to me and you are too, God, because not answering my questions and letting me have hope when there isn’t any, that’s a lie. If you are there, then you could have found a way, sent a sign, anything to let me know what was going to happen.
Today Molly wore a long yellow wig and a lacy dress. ‘I’m Cinderella at the ball, in case you’re wondering, Kate,’ she said before she told me Stephanie had been moved.
Even she’s lying. Getting into fancy dress just to make everyone feel better is not telling the truth.
I passed Steph’s parents in the corridor talking to a doctor. The doctor had his hands in his pockets. Steph’s parents looked sadder than sad.
I hiccupped my way into Steph’s room.
She was in there by herself, all hooked up to machines. She looked so small, so pale and yes, so beautiful. I don’t know why this was so. It seemed that her eyes had become so large, as if everything I’d ever wanted to know was held within them.
I sat beside her, sipping water, looking at the balloons and cheery paintings of fairies and rabbits on the walls. It was a lie too. If I could only take Steph back to her tree house, to her quiet place, wouldn’t she get better?
I lied to myself then.
Steph told me that her voice was tired and that I might have to read the end of her story to the children in her ward.
I told her that she could do it, she would do it, when she was better. More lies.
She said it was important that they know the ending. That her throat might be sore, and she asked me again. She told me I must read clearly and not hiccup. That I should drink water before I started reading.
She asked me to give the story to Mrs Kettlesmith for the competition once I’d finished reading it to the children. Would I do that for her?
I said I would.
I told her Matt wanted to see her, and she said she had such cool friends and how lucky she was.
I thought she was lying to herself then, but her face was happy. Totally.
I saw Matt near the reception desk when I left. He was helping Molly put on her glass slippers. She was preparing to read to the children in the wards after the night receptionist arrived.
I told him he could go and see Steph.
As I was walking home, I felt cold, as if a sudden icy wind had blown right through my skin to some place inside of me where I, Kate, truly lived. I felt I had been alive for quite a few years, but at the same time half-asleep, and somehow, at that very moment, I became fully awake, and understood that I knew so little.
I am so desperate. Please, if there’s anyone up there, do something.
Hello me,
We left Nan at our neighbour’s and then Dad, Mum and I rushed to the women’s hospital. Mum held her baby bump in the front seat and told the baby to hang on, not to be impatient.
My sister was born at a special birthing place where they allow brothers or sisters to watch. I was able to hold my baby sister right from the beginning.
Had I really said I wanted a brother? A disgusting little brother? I must have been nuts.
I’ll teach my baby sister things. I’ll tell her about life. I’ll stick up for her if anyone teases her. After all, I am her big sister, and for the rest of my life, I’ll be her big sister.
I’ve been living through a lot of lies lately, some of which I’ve told myself. Holding my new baby sister felt truthful.
Mum was transferred into a ward. Our baby, OURS, was curled up in bed beside Mum. Dad and I couldn’t stop smiling. Our baby’s eyes were closed tightly shut. What do babies dream about?
When we arrived home much later, still filled with excitement, the phone rang. Dad took the call. He didn’t speak for long.
He put his hands on my shoulders.
He couldn’t get the words out.
I watched him as he tried to find the right words.
Words to make it sound better.
I begged him with my eyes, no lies.
No more lies.
He told me that Stephanie had died.
Hello God, or Big Boss, or You Who Made All Of This,
Was it a sign? I think it was, though I’m still trying to work out what it means.
Steph’s death and my sister’s arrival at exactly the same time made me think about life and death in a different way. It wasn’t right for Steph to die so young. But the way her life had changed so many people had been very right.
When I looked through the telescope tonight, just one day after my baby sister was born, I thought about Stephanie. She’d said to me when she looked at the stars that night at our place that we were part of it all. That every bit of the smallest bit that makes us who we are is linked. We are all a part of the stars.
I can still hear Steph’s voice as she tells me how to control my hiccups. I miss her in a million ways.
I think she understood more about you than I do, God.
Hello God,
My class decided to plant a garden to remember Stephanie in the grounds of our school. It was announced at school assembly and all the kids wanted to be involved. This is so very right, too.
Everyone at school went to Stephanie’s funeral, and Matt, Adam and I stood together with her parents because that’s just how Steph would have liked it. The feeling of love on that day was so strong that it must have been felt everywhere. Everywhere. So, God, whatever you were doing then, you must have stopped to smile a little at what was going on in my part of the world. I’m sure it cheered you up no end.
On the way home, in the car, a little ‘hic’ sound came from the back seat.
Mum turned and looked at the baby. Dad said, ‘Oh, no.’
I smiled. She’s just like her big sister.
Hello God,
I went to the children’s hospital and read the end of Stephanie’s story to her friends in the ward.
Molly came in to listen, this time dressed as a porcupine, and so did the parents and nurses and a doctor.
The boy had taken the small cat away on a grand sailing ship that lifted up its sails into the sky and disappeared into the vast sea of stars.
How can such a thing happen in the Canadian wilderness? That’s not for us to know.
The cat understood. She would wander the universe with the boy and together they would sail the stars, until one day they would land on some wonderful uncharted island deep in the oceans of space.
There, within a jungle, they would find a special place. They would climb the rope ladder up to a tree house, and inside they would be safe from harm. There would always be books on shelves and parrots in nearby trees, and there would be a broom to keep leaves out of the tree house. The rain that fell outside would be gentle and there’d be rainbows after the rain. Sometimes double rainbows.
Hello God,
Mum and Dad went through a million names. Dad had his heart set on Roberta and Mum wouldn’t agree to it. And Dad said that Mum’s favourite name, Amber, was awful.
So, in the end, they came to me. At least that’s what they told me. They asked me to help them out. Could I think of a name for our baby girl?
We called our baby Stephanie.
About the Author
MOYA SIMONS has been writing for children for fourteen years. She has been shortlisted in the Young Australian Best Book Awards, and in the West Australian Young Readers Book Awards. She writes mainly for eight- to twelve-year-olds, and her books are concerned with science fiction and family life. Moya’s books have been published in the USA, throughout Europe and Taiwan.
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Copyright
Angus&Robertson
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, Australia
First published in Australia in 2007
This edition published 2010
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
www.harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Moy
a Simons 2007
Illustrations copyright © Lisa Coutts 2007
The right of Moya Simons to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
Simons, Moya.
Hello God,
For children aged 10+.
ISBN 13: 978 0 7322 8534 0 (pbk.).
ISBN 10: 0 7322 8534 8. (pbk.)
ISBN 978 0 7304 4417 6 (epub)
I. Coutts, Lisa. II. Title.
A823.3
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