by Nette Hilton
Violet-Anne loved her surprise. She said it made her feel a lot better about going to the nursing home — ‘the stupid nursing home’ she said — now that she knew Misty and Saffron would be all right.
She still felt sad about Sam though.
‘He never came back,’ she said. ‘He never came to build me one more web before I go.’
We searched in all of Sam’s usual places, but he wasn’t there. And there wasn’t a web anywhere.
My mum and dad came early on Tuesday. Violet-Anne had packed her bag. I put my mobile in for her. I put in some band-aids, too.
I didn’t do the Superman leap off the verandah. I didn’t feel like it. And when I got the mop and bucket from the car, I didn’t put them on my head. I just carried them.
‘We’ll drive over slowly and have some lunch on the way,’ Mum said. She was trying to sound cheery but it didn’t come out right. It was a bit like her singing. ‘Then we’ll pop back and give the house a good clean-through and make sure everything is locked up tight.’
I held Violet-Anne’s hand as we walked down the path. She held on very tight. She didn’t really need to because she still had her silver egret cane in her other hand. Perhaps my sneakers were hurting her toes.
‘I’m not wearing those old-peoples’ shoes around all day,’ she said. ‘Or one of them stupid flowery dresses. You can make me go to this place but you can’t make me do that!’
She wore her tracksuit pants and her Western Suburbs football jumper. I thought she looked great. Dad said all she needed was a black beanie. Violet-Anne made her horse-snorting noise.
Nobody talked very much in the car. Dad tried to tell Violet-Anne all about the nursing home and how great it was going to be, but Violet-Anne just kept staring out the window.
It wasn’t very far from home. I recognised all the streets when we got closer. It was not far from my house. I could even see the road that I would ride my bike down when I came to visit.
But we didn’t go there straightaway.
We had lunch first. Some people looked at Violet-Anne in her Western Suburbs jumper. They probably weren’t used to seeing Western Suburbs supporters out Penrith way.
Violet-Anne didn’t take any notice. She didn’t eat any lunch either.
I knew the nursing home. I knew it as soon as I saw it. I had ridden past it a hundred times on my way down to the shopping centre. But I’d never gone through the gates.
Everything was different in here. I would like to know how they made all the sounds go away. Out there, on the other side of the fence, there were all sorts of noises. Big truck noises and car noises and kid-shouting noises. There were heaps of noises. But in here it was silent.
We crunched up to the front door. Then that noise went away too. We didn’t even hear our own footsteps as we walked through the big glass doors. There were no little birds hiding in this glass. It was so shiny clear not even a fly could hide his footprints.
‘Hello, Mrs Carruthers!’
A very stiff lady crinkled out of the door behind the counter. She looked just like the lady on the telly who put too much starch in her clothes. Her whole family finished up looking stiff. They got better when the lady washed everything in this washing powder. Bit dumb, if you ask me. I looked hard to see if this lady was ironed flat as well. The ones on the telly were.
‘We’ve been expecting you.’ The stiff lady took Violet-Anne’s arm. Violet-Anne took it back.
‘I’m so glad you decided to join us!’ She took Violet-Anne’s arm again. This time Violet-Anne couldn’t get it back. ‘Come along now and I’ll show you your room. There’s some forms to fill in. I’m sure your family can do that.’
Violet-Anne looked at me.
‘You better come too, Jenny,’ she said. ‘Wouldn’t want you getting lost in a place like this.’
I took Violet-Anne’s hand again. The stiff lady let go of the other side when she saw that we were following her.
Everything was so white. The walls were glossy white and the curtains were creamy white. There were pictures on the walls. They were quiet pictures of cows munching grass and people sitting under trees. I was glad Violet-Anne had my mobile in her bag. She was looking at the bright, white walls.
‘Is it always this bright?’ Violet-Anne said.
The stiff lady didn’t turn around. ‘No, dear. We turn the lights down at night. But in the daytime we keep them up. Wouldn’t want you stumbling over something that you didn’t see, would we?’
‘There’s nothing worth stumbling over anyway.’ Violet-Anne poked at a trolley full of drinks. ‘They don’t put much Milo in,’ she said. Violet-Anne looked at the walls again. ‘No place for a spider’s web in here then. Is there?’ she said to me.
‘What’s that, dear?’ The stiff lady turned around. She could walk backwards just as easily as she could walk forwards. I can’t. ‘Spiders, you said. No spiders in here, dear. You don’t have to worry about anything like that.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ Violet-Anne said.
Violet-Anne’s bedroom was pale blue. It had a shiny chrome bed with a pale blue bedspread. The bedspread was tucked in all around the mattress so that no bits hung down.
‘Probably reckon I’ll trip over it,’ Violet-Anne said. She untucked it. The stiff lady tucked it back in again.
‘There!’ she said. ‘You make yourself comfortable, Mrs Carruthers, while I just check these forms. Your little granddaughter . . .’
‘Great-granddaughter,’ Violet-Anne said.
‘Your little great-granddaughter can stay for a few minutes. Then she can run along.’
The stiff lady left us. It was so empty in that room. I undid Violet-Anne’s bag and took out the mobile. I hung it from the top of the curtain rail. It couldn’t tinkle. The curtains wouldn’t let it.
‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘You’ll be able to watch it when you lie down.’
Violet-Anne looked up at it for a minute.
‘I don’t want to stay,’ she said. ‘I don’t like this place.’
I gave her a hug.
‘It’ll be all right,’ I said. I sounded just like my mum did when the doctor took me in to give me a needle. ‘You’ll see. Everything will be all right.’
‘Come along, dear.’ The stiff lady was back. She waited for me. ‘Time to say goodbye for now.’
I gave Violet-Anne another hug.
‘See you tomorrow,’ I said.
Violet-Anne put on a smile. But I don’t think she meant it.
Everything at 56 Brinsmead Street had stopped. The jug had stopped waiting to be switched on. The hatstand had stopped waiting for Violet-Anne to nod by its mirror. And the old cane chair just stood there, empty.
I sat in it for a while. But I didn’t fit. Its seat had creaked into Violet-Anne’s shape, and lumps of cane pushed at my bottom. I ran my hands over its smooth white arms. I didn’t really mind that it didn’t want me. It was Violet-Anne’s chair. I gave it a pat as I left it alone under the tree. Poor old chair.
‘Jenny?’ Mum’s voice was quieter too. And she’d taken her shoes off. They were making loud, clomping noises. I had never noticed that before. ‘Could you come and give me a hand to sort out the things in the front room?’
I used to love the front room. That was where Violet-Anne and I had found the box of soldiers that belonged to Edward. We found a giant box of old buttons in there too. And a mouse. We didn’t tell Mum about that though. Violet-Anne shooed it outside with one of Edward’s old slippers. But I didn’t want to go in there today. It didn’t seem right without Violet-Anne. There were empty Woolies boxes everywhere ready to fill up with Violet-Anne’s treasures.
‘You start here,’ Mum pointed to a pile of old books. ‘See how many you can fit in that box while I start with this wardrobe.’
I heard the wardrobe door creak open.
‘Oh! Will you look at that?’ Mum stepped back so far that she nearly fell into my carton. ‘There’s a spider web all over the shoulder of
Grandpa Edward’s old army coat.’
Sam! I just knew it had to be Sam. We hadn’t looked in this room. Violet-Anne kept it closed. But Sam knew there were treasures here. And dreams.
‘Let me see!’ I dived in front of Mum.
‘Don’t get too close!’ My mum didn’t like spiders. ‘I’ll go and get the spray. How on earth did it ever get in there?’ she muttered as she climbed out the door.
‘Sam!’ I didn’t move too close. I rather hoped Sam would come out all by himself. ‘Sam! Get out of there!’
But Sam didn’t budge.
I leaned a little closer. That wardrobe looked very dark in there and I didn’t want to go too far in, just in case Sam decided to come out — on me.
I could hear Mum padding back down the hall.
‘Quick, Sam!’ I cried. ‘Come out of there!’
‘Who are you talking to?’ Mum stuck her head around the door.
‘No-one,’ I smiled at Mum. I think I probably looked like Molly Flanagan when Mrs Cannagan caught her pinching chalk off the blackboard. ‘Noone.’ I kept my eyes on that wardrobe though. But I couldn’t see Sam anywhere.
‘I have to go and get some spray down at the corner shop.’ Mum jangled her keys at me. ‘Do you want to come?’
‘No, I’ll be right.’ I hoped there was nothing else hiding in that wardrobe. ‘Dad’s here, isn’t he?’
‘He’s down the side. Won’t be long.’
I listened until the front door clicked shut, then I moved a little closer to the cool shadows inside. I picked up a wooden coathanger — just in case.
‘Sam?’ I poked around the web on the sleeve. ‘Sam. Don’t you get on me!’
The web broke off from a little coloured band on the shoulder of the coat and clung to the hanger. It dangled there for a minute. But nothing stirred.
I poked around in the bottom of the wardrobe. There was a stack of old sheets and pillowcases. They toppled over when I jabbed at them. I got such a fright I think all my hair stood up.
I prodded further and felt something hard. It was at the back of the sheets. I poked harder. The sheets moved a little. There was a tiny corner behind there where the sheets didn’t touch. In it, snuggled down under a raggy old sheet, was a lavender-coloured tin. It wasn’t a big tin. It was small. It looked as though it might have had chocolates in it. It peeped up at me and I could see, as I leant a little closer, a tiny woven web around the corner.
I pulled the sheet back a tiny bit more. And there he was. I could only see his two long legs, but I knew it was Sam.
‘Quick, Sam!’ I said. ‘Get out of there!’
I dragged all the sheets out. Sam bobbed down and tried to hide behind the tin.
‘Don’t you be such a scaredy-cat, Sam!’ I cleared a little walking path for him. I cleared myself away from it. ‘Run down there!’
Sam didn’t. He tried to squeeze himself into the tin. His two front legs got in all right but his fat body wouldn’t. He stayed there, upside-down, with his two legs jammed in and his silly bottom jammed out.
I heard Mum’s car pull up.
‘Quick, Sam!’ I made his little walkway a bit wider. ‘Move!’
Sam’s bottom wiggled a little and he got one more leg under the lid. But he didn’t move.
‘Oh! For heaven’s sake!’ I could hear Mum talking to Dad up the side. I grabbed another wooden hanger.
‘Sam!’ I said. ‘Don’t you dare run up this hanger!’
I slipped one hanger under the tin at one end. I slipped the other hanger under the lid at the other. I tried very hard to stay away from Sam’s fat bottom. I lifted the lid — just the tiniest amount. I could have lifted it a little further. But I didn’t need to because Sam was in. I don’t know how he did it. He must have squished his tummy in so hard that it went flat. But as soon as the lid moved, so did Sam.
I pulled my hangers out very fast. I didn’t want Sam to run out the other end and up onto me. It made me go all creepy thinking about it. I had to run my hands up and down my shirt to get rid of the prickly feeling.
‘All right! Where’s that spider?’ Mum hadn’t even stopped to take her shoes off. They clomped, clomped up behind me. ‘Oh dear. Look at all these sheets.’ Mum stooped over to clear the sheets out of the way. That was when I knew I had to do it.
I made my arms really, really stiff so they reached a long way out in front of me. I made my hands into bird’s claws. I turned my head around and peeked out the corners of my eyes. Then I swooped. I grabbed the lavender tin with my two middle claws and dumped it into the empty cardboard box next to me. Then I pushed all the top bits down so it was closed up tight.
‘There Sam!’ I thought. ‘Gotcha!’ I said it like that to myself. Just like they do in the cartoons.
I went to visit Violet-Anne the next day. It was hard riding my bike with a cardboard box sitting on the handlebars. It was hard looking after it all day too. Mrs Cannagan kept telling me to put it in the hat room. I kept bringing it back inside. I think tomorrow she’s going to have a new rule about people bringing things to school in boxes.
The stiff lady wasn’t at the counter. I was a bit worried that she might try and take the box away. There was another lady there. She wasn’t as stiff as yesterday’s lady. She smiled at me when I walked past. I was doing my sideways walk. It was easier to hide the box that way.
I could hardly wait to see Violet-Anne. Poor old Sam got jogged around a bit because I ran most of the way. I slowed down when I got to her room though. Sometimes in the afternoons Violet-Anne has a nap, and I didn’t want to scare her awake.
She wasn’t napping. She was just sitting at the little bedside table looking out.
‘Hello, Violet-Anne.’ I said. I put the box down and gave her a big hug. She didn’t hug me back. She just leaned on me a little. And patted me.
‘Look what I brought.’ I tiptoed over and closed the door. I don’t think stiff ladies would understand about a spider in a tin.
I was very careful when I opened the cardboard box. First I opened one side and had a good look inside. The little lavender tin was still in there but its lid had lifted a bit. Very, very carefully, with my bird’s claw fingers, I opened the other side. I made my neck as long as I could and peered in.
I guess if you are a spider and you’ve been in a tin that has been dumped and shoved and dropped twice and bounced you would feel a bit tired. That’s how Sam looked. He backed down into his corner and then sort of floomped. He looked too tired even to look scared.
‘Come and see,’ I said.
Violet-Anne shuffled over behind me. She didn’t use Edward’s silver egret cane. She just left it leaning there on the edge of the bedside table. I stood aside so she could easily see in.
‘Tra-dah!’ I said. I felt very proud of myself. ‘Guess who?’
‘Sam.’ Violet-Anne breathed his name out. She put both her hands on her cheeks. ‘Oh, Sam. What have you brought for me today?’ She looked at the little lavender tin.
‘Hang on,’ I said. Sam might have looked tired, but sometimes I get angry when I’m tired. I found two coathangers in the little cupboard. ‘I can get it out for you.’
It only took three goes. I dropped it once, and poor old Sam scrunched up so tight he looked like a little black ball. After that I think he kept his eyes shut because he didn’t move at all when I dropped it the next time. Or the time after that.
‘Oh, Jenny!’ Violet-Anne kept her hands on her face until I put the lavender tin on the bed. ‘Where did you find him?’
While I closed him up in the cardboard box and stored him under her bed, I told all about the front room and the wardrobe. I told her how I had managed to get him out. She laughed when I told her about Mrs Cannagan at school.
‘Poor old Sam!’ she said. ‘Bet he never expected to go bike-riding.’
‘I’ll take him and put him in the garden just outside your window,’ I said. I don’t think spiders should live in boxes underneath beds. Not even Sam. ‘You c
an have a look in the little tin until I get back. He had a web on the corner,’ I told her, ‘but I think it got a bit wrecked on the way.’
Violet-Anne ran her fingers all around the tin. She gently lifted the lacy bit of web that was left and held it up for me to see. ‘There’s a little bit still here,’ she said, ‘but it doesn’t make me remember anything.’
My mum found a little kid once at the shopping centre. I can remember taking her to the lost property lady. The little kid didn’t cry at all. But she had a scared look in her eyes. Violet-Anne’s eyes looked a bit like that.
I put Sam and his box down and gave her another hug.
‘Look inside,’ I said. ‘Maybe he meant for you to look inside.’
I watched her open the little lavender tin and I knew I was right. She gently lifted out some old letters. They were all yellowy and some of them had bits of ribbon tied around them. There was a photo in there, too — but I didn’t stop to look.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ I said. I was beginning to feel creepy again.
I left the cardboard box on its side until I saw Sam scurry out and creep under the bush. There was a window just above it. If I stood on tip-toe I could see Violet-Anne. She was sitting on the bed, reading her letters.
It took a long time to tear up the box. It took even longer to find a bin. I guess old people don’t eat a lot of ice-creams and chips so they probably don’t make much litter. When I’m old I’m going to eat ice-cream and chips and I’ll bring my own bin.
A bell was ringing when I went back inside. It was telling all the visitors to go home. It was also scaring any old people who were having a snooze out of their skins.
We didn’t take too much notice of the bell. Violet-Anne closed the door and we sat on the bed together. She didn’t share her stories with me. We talked about the food that she had for lunch. Tomorrow I’m going to take her a hotdog from the canteen. It will be a cold dog by the time she gets it, but she said it doesn’t matter. Anything would be better than mashed potato and gravy.
