by Fleur Beale
The shape under the towels in the city surfaced in my mind. I shut it down. Matt’s okay. Concentrate on that. ‘Water?’
‘Kitchen. Under sink.’
Same old quake mess in their kitchen, plus the dishwasher had come open and sicked everything up across the floor. The china was the sort that shatters like glass. I found the emergency water supply and the plastic beaker beside it.
Matt had scooted away from the crumbled wall and was leaning against a chair cradling his left arm when I came back. I looked at the wreckage of the room rather than at the tear tracks down his face. ‘Your mum’s not going to be happy.’ The whole wall was practically gone and a good section of the top storey was lying splayed out on the back lawn.
He grunted, which I took to mean that I’d just uttered the understatement of the century.
‘Let’s get out of here.’ I was acutely aware of the rocking, rolling floor and the creaking of timber.
Matt held out his right hand. I hauled on it and helped him stand, but when he tried to put weight on his left foot he almost fell back down. His mother wasn’t going to be happy with his injuries, either. If she could wrap him in bubble wrap forever, she’d do it.
We managed to get outside the house, although he nearly crushed me to death when I had to take his weight.
‘I’m getting Blake.’ I didn’t give Matt time to object – too bad if he didn’t like it.
Even with Blake’s help, it was a mission to get Matt across to our place. He was heavy, and with Blake being taller than me, I got most of the weight. We made a seat with our hands to carry him over the liquefaction. He objected. ‘A bit of sludge isn’t going to hurt me.’
‘It’ll hurt us because you’ll stink,’ I said.
‘And Lyla’s used up all the wipes,’ my brother said. ‘Quit arguing and obey instructions.’
Wow! That worked. Still, it seemed ages before we could dump him on the sofa back at ours.
Prof was there, busy with a broom and rubbish bag clearing the kitchen mess. He dropped everything after one glance at Matt. ‘Let’s take a look at those injuries, young man. Lyla, can you find scissors? We’ll need to cut those jeans off.’
Matt lifted his right hand by way of reply. His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth much the same. I located the kitchen scissors and Prof snipped the jeans just below the knee. ‘Nasty graze on that shin,’ he said. The ankle was worse. It was swollen, grazed, gashed and bleeding.
Blake saw the blood and plopped to the floor, his face a pale shade of green.
‘I’m okay,’ Matt muttered.
He clearly wasn’t, and the big question was: just how not-okay was he? How were we supposed to deal with the Matt situation? If only Dad was home. Things were never so bad when he was there.
But I didn’t even know if my father was still alive.
I breathed in. Out. In again. Blake was useless with bloody injuries. Prof said, ‘We need to get you to a doctor, young man.’
Matt gave him a slight grin. ‘Think you can piggyback me, Prof? I’m okay.’
Prof frowned, but Matt was right – right about not being able to get to a doctor, that is, not right about the okay bit. I said, ‘Can you move your foot? Wriggle your toes?’
Matt opened his eyes enough to glare at me. ‘Shut it, Lyla. Nothing’s broken. I know what broken bones feel like. It’s just bruising, that’s all.’
‘I’ll get ice,’ Blake said.
Matt grumbled something about making a fuss but he didn’t object when Blake dumped a bag of still-frozen peas across his ankle. He didn’t say anything either when I used some of our precious water supply to clean his wounds. Prof raided Dad’s first-aid box for antiseptic ointment and bandages. We did all we could for our patient, but he didn’t seem very grateful. I gave him painkillers. That earned me a grunt.
Blake boiled water for tea on our emergency camp cooker. Prof helped me search the kitchen chaos for something to drink from. ‘Two plastic mugs!’ He waved them like they were trophies.
I flourished my own finds. ‘A soup bowl and a mug. China, both of them.’ I wished I could make Matt drink from the soup bowl, but that would be too mean seeing he could only use one hand. He’d have done it to me, though. Lucky for him I was so nice.
Blake handed him the china mug. ‘Your house is totally munted, mate.’
Matt nodded. ‘The olds are going to be pretty gutted when they see the damage. They went to Oamaru. Meant to be staying the night but they’re probably on their way back by now.’
‘You didn’t go to school today.’ I didn’t rub it in that if he had gone to school then he wouldn’t have been at home when the quake hit.
‘No point. No PE.’
The Prof brought his plastic mug of tea over and perched himself beside Matt on the sofa. I thought he was going to come out with a lecture about how subjects like English and Maths could help with a sports career, but no. ‘Let’s take a look at that shoulder, Matt. I’m not convinced that it’s just bad bruising. Crush injuries can be serious.’
‘It’s just bruising. Not even any blood.’ Man, he was snappy.
Prof got stern. ‘Off with that shirt, young man.’ ‘Yep,’ I said, ‘black and blue already.’ A slight exaggeration, but I could sure see where his skin was getting up a good rainbow of colours.
Prof helped Matt button his shirt. ‘It looks like you’ll live. But tell us if you notice any sharp pains or localised swelling.’
I longed for word from Dad, but there was still nothing on my phone. When the landline rang, I jumped for it, just beating Blake to pick it up. ‘Dad?’
It wasn’t Dad – of course it wouldn’t be. It was Matt’s mother. ‘Lyla, at last! I’ve been ringing and ringing everyone I can think of. Where’s Matthew? You’re at home so you must have seen him. Where is he? Why haven’t you called me? You must know I’d be worried sick.’
How come she thought I had her number? I didn’t even try to interrupt. Matt was welcome to her. Without saying anything, I unplugged the phone from the wall, took it into the lounge and plugged it into the jack. I let it ring twice. ‘Mrs Nagel? What happened? Hang on, I’ll get Matt for you.’
The cord wasn’t long enough to reach him. I put it on speaker and he leant sideways. ‘Cool it, Mum.’
He winced as she exploded. Blake, Prof and I all heard every word she shrieked at him. ‘Matthew! Darling, are you all right? I’ve been frantic! I thought you’d been killed.’
‘Chill, Mum. I’m fine. Not a scratch on me. Can’t say the same for the house, though…’
‘We’ll come and get you. We’ll leave right now. I knew in my bones we shouldn’t have left you alone today. Fiona and Jed say we can stay down here with them. Oamaru’s safe.’
Matt shut his eyes, took a huge breath and said, ‘Mum, put Dad on, will you?’
We heard a bit of a tussle at the other end, then Mr Nagel’s voice. ‘Matt? What’s the state of play?’
According to Matt’s side of the conversation, the house was a wreck (true) and he was fine except for twisting his ankle on a loose piece of concrete on his way home from school. ‘Stay in Oamaru, Dad. I can camp at the Sherwins’.’ He nodded at me to hang up the receiver and slumped back looking exhausted.
I wasn’t especially hungry even though I hadn’t had any lunch – shock, I guess. But I needed distraction, to keep busy. ‘Blake, let’s put the barbie on the back porch. Can you get it going? I’ll raid the freezer.’
The voice from the sofa said, ‘Gas bottles at mine if yours run out. In the garage.’
At least Matt’s brain was functioning, or it might just have been his stomach reacting to the promise of food.
The chest freezer was in the laundry, the same small room where the dryer dangled from the wall and the washing machine had danced across the floor. Going in there felt like diving into dangerous water. I held my breath and scrabbled around grabbing packets of pizza, sausages and a couple of loaves of bread. The sensible part of me fully kn
ew that holding my breath wasn’t going to stop the dryer from crashing off the wall, but the scared part needed all the help it could get.
Blake could do the cooking. Barbecuing and long-drop digging were both definitely man jobs. Apparently Prof thought so too, because both of them disappeared outside.
Matt shifted on the sofa, doing a lot of face-pulling in the process.
‘Are you okay?’
He shrugged his good shoulder. ‘Is there a radio we can listen to? It’s got to be bad in town.’
I wasn’t sure I wanted to listen, but I found the battery radio and gave it to him. Maybe he saw something in my face, because he said, ‘You were in town? It’s bad?’
‘Worse than bad.’ I turned away. Mum and Dad were somewhere in that chaos.
He switched the radio on. It was four o’clock, and a news bulletin was just starting. Words dropped like lead weights into the room. Multiple fatalities, extensive damage, trapped people, destruction, fire, chaos, emergency services, a woman saying I was so frightened.
I couldn’t listen. I got up from my chair, and wham, the whole house slammed sideways. I dropped to the floor, hands over my head. Matt yelled, ‘Freaking aftershocks!’
The announcer kept on reading the news in his calm, concerned voice. I huddled on the floor, listening to Matt cursing. A huge crash came from the laundry.
‘What the…’ Matt shouted.
‘It’ll be the dryer.’ I eased myself up to sitting. I was in that room not even five minutes ago. Stay safe. I shouldn’t have gone in there. I shouldn’t have taken such a stupid risk. I sat with my head in my hands shaking with my own private earthquake.
‘Stuff this,’ Matt said. ‘Being in the middle of news as it happens sucks.’
‘You should go to Oamaru.’
‘Be my guest.’
And stay with his crazy mother? Staying here with the crazy earth was the better option. My mind skipped to the city. This would have shaken more loose pieces to the ground there too. I hoped somebody had given Mum a hard hat.
There was a thumping on the front door. ‘Lyla? The door’s stuck.’
Natalie and her boys. Life went on, if you were lucky – and I’d probably just used up my life’s quota of luck.
I tottered to the door. We got it open between us, and they fell inside, shocked, chilled and grubby.
‘Stay here for a sec. We’ll clean you up a bit.’ I ran to the linen cupboard and fought to open those doors too – and when I did all the towels fell out.
I grabbed three and kicked the rest back. The doors didn’t shut properly. The whole house must be on a lean.
I helped Natalie clean the gunk off the boys’ legs. ‘You walked home?’
She nodded. ‘The car’s still in town. I parked it beside a brick wall.’
I stared at her. ‘Will you, uh…get it back when the roads are fixed?’ It wasn’t what I wanted to say. Was it flattened? Had she nearly been killed? Had she seen Dad? But there were her boys, both of them looking lost and terrified.
‘It’s in town and there’s a cordon up. Nobody’s allowed in.’
I reached out for Henry and Leo. ‘Come on, men. How does a hot chocolate sound?’
They let me lead them into the lounge. I parked them together in a squashy chair and tucked a blanket around them. ‘Sit down, Natalie. I’ll get drinks all round. Matt, what do you want? And don’t say beer.’
I made coffee on the camp stove for him and Natalie, chocolate for me and the boys. Blake and Prof came in from the barbecue carrying a plate of pizza. It was scorched on the bottom and still a bit chilly on top.
The two little boys shook their heads and Natalie looked ready to cry. I took a slice and waved it at them. ‘Watch this, guys. This is the proper way to eat pizza.’ I held the sharp end and took a bite from the crust.
Matt took a slice, heaving a dramatic sigh. ‘Girls! They haven’t got a clue. This is how you do proper pizza-eating.’ He chomped off a huge bite from halfway down.
Leo giggled and reached for a slice. After a moment, Henry did the same. ‘No, this is the proper way,’ Leo said.
Natalie turned to mouth thank you at the pair of us.
It’s amazing what you can find to say about pizza when you want to distract a couple of terrified kids. Prof talked about how there was no pizza around when he was their age. Blake insisted the only correct topping was pineapple, salami and prawns.
But all good things come to an end, apparently, and when Natalie was finished she said, ‘Lyla, I need to see what’s happening at work. They’ll probably have set up something to treat people but the computers won’t be working. It’ll be chaotic.’
I did not want to be responsible for two traumatised kids who right now had tears washing down their faces all over again at the idea of their mother leaving. But I wanted to be useful, and making it possible for Natalie to get to the medical centre was useful. I’d seen her at work, cheerful and welcoming behind the reception desk and probably holding the whole place together. ‘Don’t worry.’ I squeezed myself into the chair between them. ‘There’s a lot to do around here and these two are expert helpers.’
Natalie’s tense shoulders slumped with relief. ‘You’re a gem. I don’t want to go, but…’
‘It’s okay. Come back here when you’re done. You can all sleep here if you want. It’ll be good to have company.’
Natalie hugged her boys. ‘Will you help Lyla? She won’t know where to find the duvets in our house.’
They stared at her with huge eyes. Henry whimpered, ‘Stay here, Mummy.’
She crouched in front of them. ‘I’ll come back, I promise. The doctors and nurses need me to help them with the hurt people.’
‘Matt’s hurt,’ Leo said.
Matt dropped his voice to a thrilling whisper. ‘Hey, guys – when your mum’s gone, do you wanna see my bruises?’
It turned out that it didn’t matter if a boy was six, eight or fifteen – war wounds were up there with tomato sauce and barbecued sausages. I was still shaking my head at the sight of the three of them trying to decide where each bruise ended and another started when there was more hammering on the door.
I wrenched the door open and Cindy Jaffrie tumbled through.
She gasped out, ‘Caroline? Alex? Are they here?’
‘No…’
She collapsed to the floor before I could say anything else, but what could I say? They’ll be okay wouldn’t be any use.
I crouched down. ‘Shush, please, Cindy! Natalie’s boys are here and they’re freaked out already.’
‘Sorry.’
I watched her shut the panic back in its box. She got up. ‘Okay. I’m okay now.’ Neither of us mentioned her shattered house.
I gave her arm a squeeze. ‘Come on, let’s get that mud off you.’ I got her a towel, then went for more when the Chan family fell through the door a minute late – Marlene, Robert and their three small girls. ‘I found your note and it was all smudged but Mummy said we’d come here because our house is very, very sad,’ Imelda, the seven-year-old, said, looking very, very sad herself.
Mum would still be working in the city. She’d be cold.
Dad, where are you?
I went outside to bring in sausages and bread warmed from frozen on the barbie. I edged up to Blake. ‘It’s after eight. It’ll be dark soon. We should have heard from Dad by now. Do you think…’
Prof answered, his hand on my shoulder. ‘He’ll be flat out, Lyla. They’ll be needing every medical person they can find.’
Blake, his eyes firmly on the sizzling sausages, said, ‘Network’s still jammed. He’ll be okay, sis. Here, take these.’
It was stupid to worry, except how were you meant not to? I took the dish of sausages, sauce and bread into the lounge.
Leo and Henry ate sausages without noticing what they were doing – they were too busy giggling at Matt eating his by taking alternate bites from the ends.
‘Disgusting!’ Imelda Chan rolled her
eyes and ate hers in small, dainty bites.
We kept the radio low enough not to bother the kids. The news from town was bad. The multistorey CTV building was burning, and people were still in there. Cindy Jaffrie went dead white. Marlene Chan grabbed her. ‘Caroline doesn’t work in that building, Cindy. She’ll be all right. Town’s a shattered mess. It’ll take her ages to get home.’
Caroline Jaffrie, Alex Jaffrie, Dad. Mum. We had to believe the four of them would be all right. I hoped Greer would be too. Their house had been deep in liquefaction in September. If it was like that again they wouldn’t be able to stay in it until it was cleared.
Katie’s house had a landline. Duh! I ran for the phone. Oh God, I hoped she was all right – she hadn’t rung me either.
There was no reply. I set the receiver down carefully. What did no reply mean? Surely both she and Shona had got home safely from town. Surely.
I had to keep busy or go mad. I made more tea and hot chocolate. Leo looked up at me, his eyes full of shadows no eight-year-old should have. ‘Lyla, guess where I was?’
‘When the earth went crazy?’ I grinned at him – capable, un-scare-able Lyla. ‘Up a tree? No? Okay, how about in the toilet?’
Tears overflowed. ‘I was scared.’
I bent down to his level and in my best dramatic whisper, said, ‘Did your wee go all over the floor?’
Henry giggled and, after a moment, Leo said, ‘Everywhere! And I didn’t care either.’
I gave him a hug, then squashed Henry into my arms as well. ‘Awesome, dude!’
Cindy Jaffrie looked wrung out. She squeezed in beside Prof at the end of Matt’s sofa. He nodded at the mug teetering in her hand. ‘Drink that tea, my dear. It’ll do you good.’
It was a long, long evening. In some weird, out-of-this-world kind of way it was good – neighbours, all of us together helping each other. But then I’d think about Dad, Mum, Katie, Shona, Greer, Joanne. Images from the devastation in the city crashed in over the top and I’d have to concentrate really hard on something else.
