After dinner, Hannah went straight to her room. I was about to do the same when the phone rang.
It was Dad. He talked happily about our visit on the weekend. He was planning on taking us for a yum cha lunch, then to the park.
Dad asked how I was doing.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘I was lunch monitor today.’
But I couldn’t tell him about my hair.
Over the phone, Dad still thought I was his beautiful little girl. In some ways, that was nice.
‘And I have a surprise, too,’ I said.
‘Surprise, hey?’ Dad said. ‘Sounds interesting.’
I could still be Dad’s little girl for a few more days. Then he would see the surprise.
While Hannah was talking to Dad, I went to my room. It was dark now, but I didn’t turn the light on. Feeling like a spy, I slipped into my secret spot. Ready.
When Hannah went back to her room, she lay on her tummy on the bed and pulled out the ghost book. She loved that book!
I watched Hannah’s legs on the bed and wondered why she read that book so much. Did she really think those white splodges in the pictures were ghosts?
Did Hannah believe ghosts were real?
As I watched Hannah from my secret spot, an idea came to me. I smiled to myself. It was the perfect way to find out if Hannah believed in ghosts. I waited for a while, watching Hannah. Then I did it.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
I felt a bit silly, scratching the wall, but it was part of my new plan. Maybe Hannah would think I was a ghost in the wall. I wanted to see what she would do.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
I waited. But Hannah kept reading. This was boring.
I tried one more time.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Suddenly, Hannah sat up on the bed, facing the wardrobe.
I held my breath and did it one last time.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
But Hannah just shrugged. She rolled over and kept on reading.
Maybe Hannah didn’t believe in ghosts after all.
The next morning at breakfast Hannah said, ‘I think there’s a mouse in my wardrobe.’
I hid a smile.
‘What?’ said Mum. She’s a clean-freak, and really doesn’t like mice. ‘Is there some food hidden under all that mess?’ she asked Hannah.
‘I don’t think so,’ Hannah frowned down at her cornflakes.
‘Well, let’s have a clean-up,’ Mum said and rubbed her hands together. She liked the idea of cleaning Hannah’s room.
‘I’ll do it tonight,’ Hannah said quickly. ‘OK? Don’t go in my room.’
Mum looked disappointed. ‘OK,’ she said sadly.
After school, Hannah started cleaning up her room. I didn’t have to hide in the secret spot to know what Hannah was doing. I could hear her throwing things in the wardrobe. Clean room, messy wardrobe — that was Hannah.
While Hannah was cleaning, I went through my box of hair ties and clips. I put all the hair ties in a bag and put them in a drawer. It would be a long time before I could use them again.
My hair was almost too short even for the clips. I tried putting two in my hair. Maybe I could wear them tomorrow to see Dad. But they looked a bit silly. They suited a little girl with long hair.
After a while, I put all the clips away with the hair ties.
Then I looked around my room. It was totally different from Hannah’s. There was a pile of teddies and dolls in one corner. Another corner had an old wooden stove that I used to play with. There was even a Bananas in Pyjamas growth chart on the wall.
It looked like a baby’s room.
I pulled down the Bananas in Pyjamas chart and stared at the blank space on the wall. What should I put there instead? I didn’t like Robert Pattinson.
Who did I like?
After a while I listened for Hannah. I couldn’t hear her throwing things in the wardrobe anymore. Everything was quiet.
I turned out the light in my room and slid quietly into the secret spot. It was extra dark because Hannah’s wardrobe door was shut properly.
As my eyes got used to the darkness, I could see all the clothes and junk Hannah had thrown in the wardrobe. There was even a bag and some clothes blocking the gap leading to Hannah’s wardrobe.
I smiled in the darkness. Hannah had cleaned up her room because of my scratching. That felt good — she couldn’t ignore me completely.
What could I do next?
I stood in the darkness in my secret spot, thinking about ghosts again. If mice scratch, what noise do ghosts make?
They stomp around at night.
I couldn’t see into Hannah’s room, but that was OK. If her wardrobe door was shut, then I was hidden properly too.
I reached into her wardrobe and thumped on the door.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Ha! Mice didn’t thump. I waited, but nothing happened. Maybe Hannah wasn’t in her room.
I tried again.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Still nothing.
Suddenly, Hannah’s wardrobe door slid open. A shoe and a music stand toppled out onto Hannah’s feet.
I blinked in the sudden light and leant back into the shadows. Had Hannah seen me? I pushed my back into the wall behind me.
Everything was quiet.
I saw Hannah lift her arm to scratch her head. Then she leant down to pick up the shoe and music stand. She jammed them back into the wardrobe and lay back down on the bed.
That had been close, but the hiding place had worked. Hannah hadn’t seen me. She would never notice the gap if I kept the light out in my room.
I leant forward and peeked into Hannah’s room. I could see her legs on the bed. She was on her tummy, facing the other way.
Hannah had left her wardrobe door open so now I couldn’t reach it. It was open too far.
Instead I reached down to the music stand. It was lying down, folded shut. That was good. I didn’t want the noise to come right from my hiding spot.
I couldn’t lift the music stand, but I gave it a wriggle and a shove. It rattled against the wooden floor.
Rattle, rattle, clang.
Straight away, Hannah jumped back up. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her breathing now.
She stood in front of the wardrobe for a while, and then she started pulling all her stuff out. Everything that had gone in came out again, plus all the things that were in there to start with.
She wasn’t quiet about it either. As Hannah pulled and rattled and threw, I slipped quietly out of the hiding space, back into my room.
Easy.
It seemed very tidy and peaceful in my room.
I switched on my reading lamp and pretended to read as I listened to Hannah empty her wardrobe.
She was making a lot of noise. Mum must have heard it too.
‘Hannah!’ Mum didn’t sound pleased. ‘What are you doing?’
I couldn’t hear Hannah reply.
‘You’re meant to be cleaning up!’
‘Mum,’ Hannah was speaking softly. ‘There’s something … ’
‘What? A mouse?’ Mum still sounded annoyed. ‘Clean up this mess and I’ll set a mouse trap tomorrow.’
Hannah stayed quiet. I knew she didn’t think the thumping and rattling had come from a mouse.
I couldn’t stop grinning. This was great fun. Plus, Hannah deserved it.
‘That’s for the bad haircut, Hannah,’ I whispered to myself.
The next day was Saturday — the start of our weekend with Dad.
When I climbed out of bed, I suddenly felt nervous. What would Dad say when he saw my hair? What would Felicity say?
I bit my lip, staring into my wardrobe and trying to decide what to wear. Finally, I decided not to worry. I put on my favourite pair of black jeans and a T-shirt. At least I would be comfortable.
When Dad and Felicity arrived, Hannah was in front of me. Dad hugged her first.
‘Hey, Ca
ssie-girl!’ Felicity said and patted my hair.‘Look at you!’
By then, Dad had seen me.
‘Cassie!’ Dad said and gave me a hug. ‘My beautiful little girl,’ he said. But he was frowning over my head at Mum.
‘Surprise!’ I said meekly. My face was burning.
‘Why did you let her do that?’ Dad asked Mum angrily.
Mum shrugged.‘Ask the girls,’ she said, half-smiling.
Dad looked at me. I gulped.
Dad looked around like he was deciding who to yell at.
But before he could say anything, Felicity said, ‘Let’s go. I’m hungry.’
Thank goodness for Felicity.
Felicity talked the whole way in the car about how she had shaved her head when Surprise! she was eighteen. I tried to imagine what Felicity would have looked like, but it was pretty hard. These days she has fluffy brown hair that floats around her shoulders.
I could see Dad frowning while Felicity talked. He hated my hair. But I didn’t feel sad like I thought I would. I felt annoyed. Why did I have to look like Dad wanted me to? Why couldn’t I have really short hair if I wanted? Short hair didn’t hurt anyone.
Hannah was scowling out the window, just like Dad.
I could see where she got it from.
When we sat down for yum cha, Felicity was still talking and Dad was still frowning.
I had just chosen a plate of pork buns from the trolley when Dad finally said something.
‘Did your mother let you cut your hair like that, Cassie?’ Dad said. He said it like Mum had let me jump off a cliff.
I glanced at Hannah and bit into the soft, sweet bun. She looked white.
‘Nope,’ I said with my mouth full. Then I swallowed. ‘The hairdresser said it would suit me.’That was true in a way.
‘The hairdresser!’ Dad looked around like he wanted to go and yell at the hairdresser.
Hannah was watching me with her mouth open. She still looked pale.
‘But you’re only nine years old!’ Dad said, a little too loudly for a restaurant.
‘So?’ I yelled back.‘I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad.’ I had heard those words somewhere before, but I couldn’t think where.
Hannah was watching me closely now, half-smiling.
Dad was turning red. But he didn’t know what to say. My hair was already short, so what could he do? He took a gulp of tea.
Felicity saved the day.‘Go, Cassie!’ she said.‘Fight for your rights, girl.’
I like Felicity.
On Sunday night, we were back home and I was back in my secret hiding place.
Hannah was at her desk doing homework. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her turning pages.
I felt really good. I didn’t care what people thought of my hair anymore. And I wasn’t scared of Hannah. Short hair made me feel like a different person.
I picked up an old sneaker from the bottom of Hannah’s wardrobe and threw it into Hannah’s room. I couldn’t throw very well because I could only move my wrist, but I heard it thump on the carpet.
Straight away I heard Hannah gasp.
I leant back into the wall, but I couldn’t hear anything.
Then I heard Hannah stand up. I could hear her breathing, as she crouched on the end of her bed, facing the wardrobe.
I thought quickly. This was it. Time for the real fun.
I moved my feet to get balanced, then I thumped my hip against the side of Hannah’s wardrobe.
Thud.
Hannah gasped again and crawled backwards to the top of her bed.
I did it again.
Thud.
Then I let out a growl from the back of my throat, ‘Grrrrrrruuuugh… ’
I saw the bed move as Hannah climbed off. I couldn’t see her now, but I heard her bedroom door open.
Where was she going?
Suddenly the light turned on in my bedroom. Hannah was checking my room! Clever Hannah.
I pushed back into the wall, trying to be as small as possible. The gap into my bedroom was right near my shoulder and my wardrobe door was open. She would notice me for sure.
I couldn’t see Hannah but I could hear her breathing as she looked in my wardrobe.
I stayed very still.
This was it.
Hannah was about to catch me.
I waited for Hannah to say something. But she didn’t. Instead she turned out my bedroom light, and was gone. I heard the hall door open and then shut.
I breathed out and leant against the wall. I couldn’t believe Hannah hadn’t seen my shoulder through the gap.
I slipped out of the hiding spot and spent a few minutes in the bathroom. Then I went to find Hannah.
She was sitting in the lounge room. She was very still. Her face was white and her eyes were big. Then she saw me.
‘Where have you been?’ Hannah asked, but she sounded glad to see me.
‘In the bathroom,’ I said. I wasn’t sure if she’d believe me but I switched on the TV and sat in the best chair.
Hannah nodded and tried to smile.
‘Aren’t you meant to be doing your homework?’ I said. I tried to sound normal, but I wasn’t used to talking to Hannah anymore. Hannah nodded again.
‘I think I’ll do it out here,’ she said. But she didn’t go and get her homework. She didn’t move.
I pretended to watch TV, but my mind was racing. Hannah looked really scared. She had even forgotten not to talk to me.
I sat there, feeling a bit bad. I hadn’t meant to scare Hannah this much. I just wanted to annoy her. I always thought she would work out it was me. I just wanted her to stop ignoring me. That was all.
Suddenly it had all gone too far.
The next morning, Hannah’s face was pale and there were dark patches under her eyes. She didn’t look like she had slept very well.
When we were leaving for school, Hannah said, ‘Cassie, do you ever hear things in your wardrobe?’
‘Like what?’ I said. I didn’t know what else to say.
‘Like, um, banging?’ Hannah looked at me sideways.
I shrugged, but I felt bad. Should I tell Hannah it was me? I didn’t want her to stop talking to me again.
‘No,’ I said, feeling guilty.
Hannah frowned down at her feet as she walked.
‘It’s probably nothing,’ I said hopefully.
That was it. I decided to stop knocking in the wardrobe. No more games. Then Hannah would stop being scared. And if she never knew it was me in the wall, she would keep talking to me.
Perfect.
But the next morning, Hannah looked even worse. I had stopped banging, but Hannah was still scared.
At breakfast on the third morning, Hannah was so tired she looked sick.
Mum kept frowning as she watched Hannah. But Hannah was too tired to notice us watching her. She buttered a piece of toast and tried to cut it with her knife upside-down. Hannah looked down at her knife as though she didn’t understand why it wasn’t cutting.
‘Hannah, are you OK?’ Mum said.
Hannah nodded and picked up her whole piece of toast to eat.
‘Maybe you should stay home today,’ Mum said.‘Have a rest in bed.’
‘Bed? No.’ Hannah looked scared. ‘I’m OK, Mum.’
She put down the toast after one bite.
On the way to school, I felt like I had to look after Hannah rather than the other way around. I steered her around some dog poo on the footpath. She would Is Hannah OK? have stepped in it for sure. I checked for cars as we crossed the road.
When we made it to my school, I watched Hannah walk slowly towards the high school. When would Hannah stop feeling frightened?
I had stopped banging days ago. Why was she still scared?
That night, I lay in bed worrying about Hannah. It was late, but Hannah had only just gone to bed.
I wished I could help Hannah without making her angry with me.
After a while, I climbed out of bed and slid into
my secret spot. I wanted to check on Hannah.
It was completely dark and quiet. I listened carefully. Was Hannah asleep?
Just quietly, I could hear Hannah sobbing in her bed. She wasn’t sleeping, she was crying!
I had to tell Hannah the truth.
Even if she stopped talking to me again, I had to tell her. Anything was better than this.
I slipped out of the secret spot and went to Hannah’s bedroom door. But I didn’t knock. I didn’t want to scare her even more.
‘Hannah,’ I said.‘Are you awake?’
I heard her sniffing and sitting up in bed, but she didn’t turn on the light.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked as I walked into Hannah’s room.
Suddenly Hannah started crying properly.
‘I’m so scared,’ she said between sobs.
I reached over and hugged her. But now Hannah was crying harder — deep, painful sobs that shook her whole body.
‘It’s OK, Hannah,’ I said. ‘Don’t be scared.’ I curled her hair behind her ears. ‘There’s nothing to be scared of.’
But Hannah kept sobbing as though she hadn’t heard me. I had to calm her down.
‘Come into my room,’ I said. ‘You can sleep with me in my bed.’
That helped.
‘OK,’ said Hannah between sobs. ‘But don’t tell Mum.’
‘OK,’ I whispered. I picked up Hannah’s pillow and took her hand. I led her into my bedroom.
I knew I had to tell Hannah what I’d done. But once I did, she wouldn’t talk to me for a very long time.
I put Hannah’s pillow on the end of my bed and we both snuggled in with our heads on the two ends. I’m so short that there was still a lot of room.
Hannah had stopped crying. She rested her legs against mine, as though she was glad to be touching someone. It felt good.
‘Hannah,’ I said quietly. This was going to be hard.
But I didn’t get a chance to say anything.
‘I’m sorry I cut your hair,’ Hannah said in the dark. Her voice was clear and calm.
Sister Spirit Page 2
