\u201cHhrrrrggnn\u201d: this is the noise my sister makes. Or something like it. Her mouth is wide open as if she is yawning and her eyes roll back like she is about to chuck a fit. Then she makes this noise. Mum\u2019s\u00a0 just said we\u2019re going over to Gran\u2019s for Christmas lunch.<\/p>\n
It isn\u2019t even December yet. It\u2019s November the eighth and stinking hot. Wet too. When it isn\u2019t raining the air is so sticky and moist that your clothes stick to you, every invisible particle of dirt in the air too. It gets so that when you take off your shirt your skin is shiny and slippery. If you roll your palms over your chest and tummy you can make these thin rubbery worms out of your own dirt and sweat. I roll them around my belly button to gross out Tilda, my sister.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are we going over now when it\u2019s not even Christmas?\u201d she says. Tilda might be wet but she\u2019s not dumb and she smells a rat.<\/p>\n
Mum is flustered. She is unpacking all the shopping out of plastic bags and putting it away. \u201cLook Tilda,\u201d she says. \u201cWe\u2019re having people over for Christmas lunch and now is the only time we could go and see your grandmother.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy don\u2019t we just invite Gran over for Christmas lunch with the other people?\u201d Tilda says. This is Tilda at her sneakiest. She knows damn well the reason Mum won\u2019t have Gran over when other people are around. She\u2019s embarrassed. Gran is Dad\u2019s Mum anyway and Mum figures she shouldn\u2019t have to put up with her any more than absolutely necessary. I\u2019ve heard her say a couple of times to Dad, \u201cI married you, not your family.\u201d She means it especially about Gran.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell,\u201d she says, \u201cbecause we\u2019ve already invited a lot of people over and we won\u2019t have enough chairs for any more.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow many people are coming?\u201d says Tilda.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook Tilda,\u201d says Mum, smashing the milk carton she has just picked up back down on the table, \u201cit doesn\u2019t matter how many people I\u2019ve invited, there just won\u2019t be enough room. And that is why we are going to your grandmother\u2019s for Christmas lunch today. She wants to see you kids especially, so you\u2019d better be on your best behaviour.\u201d<\/p>\n
When she picks up the milk carton to put it away in the fridge she sees that the spout is partly open and that milk has shot out the top and dribbled down the sides to form a puddle on the table. There are milk spots over the sleeve of her shirt. \u201cTilda,\u201d she says in that voice she does, real soft and without opening her mouth much, \u201cget me a cloth.\u201d<\/p>\n
After Tilda has given Mum the cloth, we both decide it would be wise if we got out of Mum\u2019s way. That\u2019s what I decide anyway. Tilda has a weird expression on her face, sort of thoughtful, and goes through into the dining room. I want to see what she is doing so I follow her in there. When I creep in behind her she is standing just inside the doorway, staring at the dining room table. She nods her head as she looks at it, then again. Then, with that same, careful rhythm, six more times. A total of eight. I know what she\u2019s up to and I don\u2019t want anything to do with it. Tilda sometimes just doesn\u2019t know when to stop. But I sure do want to be there when she tries it on Mum.<\/p>\n
So I sit down and watch television for about ten minutes, watching Tilda move from room to room, that same, thoughtful expression on her face. I quickly switch the TV off when she goes into Mum and Dad\u2019s room. Mum has finished putting away the shopping and is sitting down at the dressing table putting on some make-up. She doesn\u2019t have a shirt on because she hates accidentally smudging her collar with mascara or whatever. Putting on make-up is a real rigmarole for Mum, it takes her nearly half an hour. That\u2019s probably why she\u2019s doing it while Dad\u2019s at work. He gets real impatient with the whole thing. When he gets cranky about it though, she says to him, \u201cListen Daryl. You set your alarm an hour early just so you can laze around the kitchen. At least I\u2019m doing something constructive with my time.\u201d Sometimes when he\u2019s on call, like today, he pretends he\u2019s in bed when they call, just so he has half an hour before he has to leave.<\/p>\n
Tilda looks at Mum very seriously, her hands on her hips. I\u2019m standing just outside the door so I can get a good view without being in the blast radius. \u201cMum,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes Tilda, what is it?\u201d Mum says, and you can hear she\u2019s getting cranky already.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre twelve people coming on Christmas?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre twelve people coming on Christmas?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you talking about, Tilda?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCounting the one in my room, the one in Jake\u2019s room and the two on the porch we have twelve chairs. I thought twelve people must be coming over since we won\u2019t have enough chairs for Gran.\u201d<\/p>\n
Watching Mum go through the roof is never pleasant, except when it\u2019s happening to Tilda. I make sure I sneak away before Mum notices me. I\u2019m watching TV again when Tilda comes through on her way to her room.<\/p>\n
Dad comes home about half an hour later. Mum lets him kiss her on the cheek in the hallway as he comes in. He tries to kiss her on the mouth, but she won\u2019t let him. \u201cYou\u2019ll ruin my lipstick,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
He sees me sitting in front of the television. \u201cHey there, tiger. Why aren\u2019t you dressed yet?\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am dressed, Dad. I\u2019m not naked am I?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI meant properly, mister.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, Dad-\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGo on. Get your tie and jacket and bring them out here and I\u2019ll put them on for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Great, noose and straitjacket. Gran doesn\u2019t even care about all that. Last time we visited her she said, \u201cYour Dad made you wear that, did he? You must be bloody hot. Take it off if you want.\u201d\u00a0 It\u2019s not as if she dresses special for the occasion. Same old baggy dress and funny slipper-shoes. Happy shoes she calls them. But I guess Dad thinks he has to show Gran what a beautiful family we are.<\/p>\n
When we\u2019re in the car I say to Tilda, \u201cI wonder what she\u2019s cooking for us this time? Do you remember last year there was a slug in the salad and you ate it?\u201d But I say this very quietly so Mum and Dad won\u2019t hear. They\u2019re having a discussion in the front anyway.<\/p>\n
\u201cI did not,\u201d Tilda hisses.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh that\u2019s right,\u201d I say. \u201cYou didn\u2019t notice the slug and I didn\u2019t say anything. I was going to afterwards but I guess I forgot until now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShut up,\u201d she says, \u201cthat\u2019s not true.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, it is Tilda,\u201d I say, \u201cbut don\u2019t believe me if it makes your stomach feel better.\u201d<\/p>\n
This is pretty childish for a kid in sixth grade I\u2019ll admit, but I only do it because I get such a good response. Tilda\u2019s squirming in her seat. I can see that she wants to reach over and hit me but she\u2019s afraid to with Mum and Dad in the front.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s your problem, Tilda?\u201d I say.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are, you big idiot.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow that\u2019s not very nice. Gran won\u2019t give you a present if she finds out you\u2019ve been talking like that to your big brother.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe will too. She likes me better than you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tilda doesn\u2019t usually want to be Gran\u2019s favourite. Tilda\u2019s actually scared of her. I just think Gran\u2019s crazy. She\u2019s got these big glasses which make her eyes huge and she bends down close to tell these weird stories. Some of them she gets out of the Bible.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, I wonder what she\u2019ll give you?\u201d I say. \u201cProbably yesterday\u2019s newspaper.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShut up, Jake. She will not.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tilda says this way too loud, I\u2019ve really got her annoyed. Mum looks round from the front seat. Her discussion with Dad must have already made her a bit angry because her teeth are clenched real tight and when she does her voice, loud this time, drops of spit come out and land on me and Tilda. \u201cWhat is the matter Tilda?\u201d she shouts.<\/p>\n
\u201cJake\u2019s teasing me,\u201d Tilda says. \u201cHe said that Gran would give me a newspaper for a present.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell she might,\u201d I say, but I say it under my breath so Mum won\u2019t hear. Half the things I want to say I have to say real quietly so that nobody else will hear them. Otherwise I\u2019d get in trouble. It\u2019s a bit of a shame when you have funny things to say, but that\u2019s the way it is with families.<\/p>\n
\u201cJacob, leave your sister alone. If I hear one more word out of you there\u2019ll be trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad also turns round. It doesn\u2019t seem to bother him that he\u2019s driving and is meant to be keeping his eyes on the road. \u201cNow listen Jake,\u201d he says. \u201cGran doesn\u2019t have much money so she can\u2019t always afford the presents that we give you, but she cares for you children very much. Going to her house for Christmas lunch means a lot to her. So just settle down, OK?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOK, Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow apologize to Tilda,\u201d Mum says.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I-\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cTilda, I am deeply, truly sorry that I teased you in such a cruel way, I-\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCut it out Jake,\u201d Dad says, losing patience. \u201cIf I hear one more word out of you there\u2019ll be trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n
The rest of the trip passes fairly uneventfully. I keep pulling faces at Tilda the whole time, keeping one eye on the rear-vision mirror to make sure Mum isn\u2019t watching. Tilda\u2019s still squirming but she knows better than to say anything at all with Mum and Dad in a cranky mood.<\/p>\n
Inside the car it\u2019s cool because of the air-conditioning, but there\u2019s no air-conditioning outside. Halfway up the path to Gran\u2019s house Mum says to Dad, \u201cI wish we had moved to the beach when you got this job, Daryl.\u201d Mum says this a lot around this time of year. You can see that she is sweating underneath her make-up. It must be hard for her, all that make-up makes her face hot.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m glad we didn\u2019t move to the beach. I mean, it would\u2019ve been alright, but I like living in the city. When it isn\u2019t raining, there are all these cool drains which me and my friends play cricket in. There\u2019s usually a little bit of water flowing through, so we use that as the pitch. We always fight over who has to be wicket-keeper. Nobody wants to be wicky because everyone\u2019s always bowling or throwing the ball at the wicky as hard as they can and wet tennis balls really sting. When you bowl one that bounces well, a stream of water flies off behind it, like the tail of a comet.<\/p>\n
Gran must have seen the car through her kitchen window because she opens the door before we even ring the doorbell. She\u2019s wearing what she always wears, except she\u2019s got on her \u201cwork-glasses\u201d, a big, brown pair of glasses with a brown chain on them that goes right round the back of her head. I know it\u2019s to keep the glasses on but I once told Tilda that the chain went under her hair and into her head and the glasses let her see through people like an X-ray. Tilda got me in trouble when I tried to describe what people look like inside, but it was a good joke for a while.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome in,\u201d Gran says. \u201cCome in. Hello Jake, hello Tilda.\u201d She kisses everybody. You can see that Mum doesn\u2019t enjoy it much, and nor do I really. It\u2019s not sloppy or anything, just a bit embarrassing.<\/p>\n
Dad\u2019s got the shopping bag with the presents from all of us in it. \u201cWe brought you some things, Mum,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
\u201cFirst things first,\u201d she says. \u201cLunch first.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lunch is alright. Gran always cooks the same thing for Christmas lunch. Roast lamb with mint sauce, potatoes and pumpkins. She makes weird cordial for us as well and every year the flavour is different. Last year she made us chilli cordial, can you believe it? This year at least it\u2019s watermelon cordial which isn\u2019t so bad. The only thing wrong is that she always cooks cabbage. I don\u2019t like cabbage at the best of times but Gran\u2019s cabbage is even worse than normal. I don\u2019t know what she does to it, but somehow it goes all soggy and slimy. Last year Tilda made a noise like \u201cEeauurgch,\u201d when she had to eat the cabbage: but she got into such big trouble that I\u2019ll bet she doesn\u2019t do it again this time.<\/p>\n
After lunch, Gran, Mum and Dad sit around the table, talking, while me and Tilda wander round the house. Gran always tells us that if we can find where the presents are hidden we can have them straight away instead of having to wait until she opens hers. Gran\u2019s presents are never very good though and I stopped looking seriously a couple of years ago. Tilda still looks, so I follow her around to bug her.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019ll probably be the Telegraph Mirror,\u201d I say. \u201cThat\u2019s cheaper than the Herald.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShut up Jake,\u201d Tilda says. \u201cShe won\u2019t give me a newspaper.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll see, Tilda,\u201d I say. \u201cWe\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n
This year the presents are \u2018hidden\u2019, if you could call it that, under the sofa next to Gran\u2019s Christmas tree. I guess Gran\u2019s imagination let her down. She\u2019s been doing it for years though, so maybe she just ran out of hiding-places. The presents are wrapped in newspaper. I give Tilda a big nudge in the ribs with my elbow. \u201cSee,\u201d I say, motioning at the presents. \u201cNewspaper. Old too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStupid. That\u2019s just the wrapping paper.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you ever played pass the parcel, Tilda?\u201d I say.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. We played it at Emily\u2019s birthday.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, it\u2019s just like that. You open one layer of newspaper and find another layer. You open that layer and find another one. Except that instead of there being a present in the middle, all you\u2019ll find is more newspaper.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tilda\u2019s thinking this one over. She doesn\u2019t want to believe me but with Gran who knows? Inside, I\u2019m killing myself laughing, but then I think, what if she goes and asks Gran? In front of Mum and Dad. To distract her I say, \u201cWhat do you hope it is, Tilda?\u201d<\/p>\n
But Tilda isn\u2019t paying any attention to me. She\u2019s just noticed the Christmas tree. It\u2019s a real one in a big, black plastic pot. Gran always has this same tree, which is better than the plastic one we have at home. It\u2019s nearly big enough to touch the ceiling. But it doesn\u2019t have any decorations on it. Gran sometimes makes decorations out of coloured paper and balls of wool and things like that, but this year it\u2019s just the tree.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere\u2019s the angel?\u201d says Tilda. Her voice is quiet and her mouth is hanging open. It\u2019s like she\u2019s about to cry. Before I can say anything she goes into the kitchen. I hear her shout as she\u2019s going down the hall, \u201cWhere\u2019s the angel?\u201d<\/p>\n
When I get to the kitchen Gran has just finished making a pot of tea and is holding the kettle in one hand. Steam is coming out of the top. Tilda\u2019s blocking the doorway, her legs wide apart and her hands on her hips. Gran looks at her. \u201cWhat\u2019s the matter Tilda?\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is the angel from the top of the tree?\u201d Tilda says.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh,\u201d says Gran. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t have been able to fit one on top of that little tree.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy not, Gran?\u201d says Tilda. \u201cWe have an angel on our tree.\u201d<\/p>\n
Gran doesn\u2019t usually tell lies so she just must be losing her marbles. That tree\u2019s pretty big and there\u2019s still room before it touches the ceiling.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no,\u201d says Gran. \u201cThat\u2019s not an angel you have on your tree. That\u2019s a piece of supermarket Christmas. Something somebody made up because the real things\u2019s too scary.\u201d She waves her arm around when she says this and the steam from the kettle fogs up her glasses. She puts the kettle down and wipes her glasses on her dress. When she puts them back on, though, there are still marks on them so her eyes look all streaked and watery. \u201cI\u2019ll tell you what angels are really like,\u201d she says. She reaches up to a shelf above the stove and brings down a book. A bible. She must have one in every room.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome here Tilda,\u201d she says. \u201cCome on Jake.\u201d<\/p>\n
We both go over to her. Tilda stands as close to me as she can, her back pressed into my side. Gran crouches down. Her knees crack when she does. \u201cSome of them are like men,\u201d she says. \u201cThey wear white and you wouldn\u2019t know they were angels except they bring messages from God. But others-\u201d she says, \u201cothers are like this…\u201d The whole time she has been flipping over pages in the Bible until she finds the one she wants.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re something like human beings,\u201d she says, \u201cbut they\u2019re much, much bigger. Their legs are straight and Jake wouldn\u2019t even reach up to their waist. Their feet are like calves\u2019 hooves, hard and split down the middle and they glow and burn like molten metal. And they have four faces and four wings. Under all their wings they have human hands. And their faces, do you want to know what their faces are like?\u201d<\/p>\n
I nod. These angels sound cool. Tilda doesn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey have one face like a human being, one face like a lion on the right side, one face like an ox on the left side, and one face like an eagle on the back. And each face is furious enough to frighten even the bravest person. You\u2019d think you might die if the human face even just looked at you, or if the ox breathed on you with it\u2019s fiery breath, or if the lion roared, and the eagle with it\u2019s sharp, sharp beak. They hold two of their wings straight out and they use the other two to cover their bodies. And when they look at God they use these wings to cover their eyes because however fierce and frightening those angels are, God is too bright and fiery, too full of glory, even for them to look at.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what cherubim are?\u201d she says. \u201cCherubs?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou mean those chubby little guys with the wings?\u201d I say.<\/p>\n
\u201cLike you put on Christmas trees,\u201d says Tilda.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d she says. \u201cThose things aren\u2019t cherubs,\u201d she says. \u201cThe angels I just told you about are the real cherubs. Cherubim they\u2019re called. So you can see why I didn\u2019t put one of those on top of my tree. It would have been far too big, and it would have frightened my guests.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt would have been cool Gran,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n
Tilda\u2019s looking at Gran with her mouth wide open. She\u2019s always like this when Gran tells one of her weird stories. Gran picks her up and holds her up at her shoulder. Gran\u2019s still pretty strong but I\u2019m glad I\u2019m too big for her to do that to me any more. Gran smells funny. It\u2019s not real awful and Dad says all old people smell a bit funny. \u201cLike they\u2019re going off,\u201d I said, but he gave me a whack.<\/p>\n
\u201cTime to open the presents,\u201d Gran says.<\/p>\n
Tilda cheers. She still thinks any present is a good present. Last year Gran gave her a writing set. She gave me a book of illustrated Bible stories. Actually, some of them aren\u2019t too bad. There are stories about some cool people and lots of weird stuff happens, but I thought the times Tilda and I played cricket in her back yard with a ball and a piece of wood would give her the hint that I wanted a bat. In the end I had to wait \u2018til my birthday and it was Dad who gave it to me.<\/p>\n
Dad gives her the bag of presents we brought first. \u201cThere you go Mum,\u201d he says. \u201cHappy Christmas.\u201d He kisses her on the lips and gives her a hug. Dad doesn\u2019t mind kissing Gran. He does it for the longest of any of us and hardly tries to get away at all.<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks,\u201d she says. \u201cThanks alot. Christmas is my favourite birthday of all,\u201d she says. \u201cIt\u2019s the only birthday where the whole world gets a present.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cChristmas isn\u2019t anybody\u2019s birthday Gran,\u201d Tilda says.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s Jesus\u2019 birthday,\u201d I whisper at her, giving her a whack in the arm.<\/p>\n
\u201cLeave your sister alone,\u201d Mum says, real quick.<\/p>\n
After Gran\u2019s opened her presents, she reaches behind the sofa for ours. \u201cI suppose you found where these ones were hidden.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019d have to be blind not to,\u201d I say, not to be rude, just because it\u2019s true.<\/p>\n
\u201cJake!\u201d says Mum. And she means it.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis one\u2019s for you Tilda,\u201d she says. \u201cAnd this one\u2019s for you Jake. I\u2019m sorry about the wrapping paper, but I don\u2019t get down to the shops much and I thought, well, no sense wasting the wrapping paper the delivery-boy brings me every day.\u201d Tilda is tearing at the newspaper like there\u2019s treasure inside, but I know that I can afford to take it a bit slower than that. Tilda\u2019s present is a scarf with rainbow patterns on it and some pieces of writing paper. \u201cIt\u2019s a story,\u201d Gran says. \u201cI wrote it. I hope you like it Tilda.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mine is a book. Again. When I get it out I see it\u2019s big and heavy like all of Gran\u2019s Bibles. It\u2019s got gold writing on the front and gold stuff on the edge of the pages. When I flick the pages they stick together. They\u2019re made out of thin, crinkly paper. Gran has written in the front, \u201cIt\u2019s time you had your own Bible. The stories about Jesus are the best. Read them first or get your Dad to read them to you. Love Gran.\u201d<\/p>\n
When I look up to say thank you like I\u2019ve been told to again and again I see that Gran is crying. I\u2019ve never seen Gran cry before.<\/p>\n
\u201cI only give what I\u2019ve already been given,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
I ask Dad what she meant on the way home, but he doesn\u2019t tell me.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cHhrrrrggnn\u201d: this is the noise my sister makes. Or something like it. Her mouth is wide open as if she is yawning and her eyes roll back like she is about to chuck a fit. Then she makes this noise. Mum\u2019s\u00a0 just said we\u2019re going over to Gran\u2019s for Christmas lunch. It isn\u2019t even December […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":139,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n