SWOOPED ON MONDAY
Short Story | 2019
This short story got a glowing review from one of my favourite authors, Trent Dalton.
“Anna Kenny writes with the kind of clarity and honesty you might hope for in some seasoned and wisened novelist three times her age. She’s got that secret view on the world, her own little life microscope seeing the details we can so easily miss. Her phrasing is true as blood and refreshing as water. And she’s only just beginning! How bloody glorious.”
It was also recognised as a standout piece of work during my creative writing degree.
When Mum told me Grandma had passed away, it was like when she’d told us our cat had died under the wheel of Harry Donovan’s Holden ute.
I’d placed my school bag down on the corduroy couch and my freshly un-socked feet felt sticky on the kitchen tiles. She hugged my brother and I and told us to take it easy over the next few days and talk to her whenever we needed to.
I walked to the lounge room and started watching ‘Deal or No Deal’. I told the man on the show to pick case 18. He didn’t, but I watched that case the whole time.
When dinner time came around, the peas on my plate were getting cold as I ate the fat off my lamb chops and passed the rest to Dad. I ate all my potatoes and asked Mum if we could have ice cream and Milo for dessert.
She sighed heavily over the untouched meal in front of her and said not tonight. The shadows under her eyes looked like tiny bruises. I asked her if Rebecca could come over the next day. She said she didn’t think so. I didn’t have to eat my peas.
After I’d finished wiping the floral placemats and slotted them back between the microwave and the chopping boards, I asked Dad if Rebecca could come over on Saturday. I could hear his hand rubbing over his grey whiskers as he told me to go up and get ready for bed.
Before I brushed my teeth, I wrote in my journal. I flicked past the white page where Grandma’s cursive black writing looked like it said, ‘Happy Birthday, Ellie’. I started writing about Biscuit, our cat, and the creamy ginger fur I used to comb for ticks. She would roll onto her back and purr deeply when I brushed her tummy.
I also wrote a tally of how many times my brother and I were swooped by magpies on our walk to school that morning. They were flashes of black and white that scared us to death. Jon said he was going to wear his Pokémon cap to school on Monday because it had heaps of eyes on it and magpies don’t like to be looked at in the eye.
We still got swooped on Monday.
When I got back to school, Mrs. Fisher gave me a sad smile and told me to let her know if I needed anything. The creases on her shiny face and neck folded like plasticine and disappeared under her spotted blouse.
I nodded and wondered if my show and tell that I found near the pine trees in the school yard would fit in my tidy tray.
I shuffled across the thin carpet to my desk. Inside my tray, I replaced my purple pencil case with my discovery and carefully slid the white tub closed beneath my peeling desktop. I quickly went outside to place my Elmo school bag next to Rebecca’s on the port racks. As I walked back in, Mrs. Fisher was giving me that sad smile again and she told all of us we were starting the day with handwriting.
I waved to Rebecca, but she didn’t see me. I watched my scuffed shoes as I traced my way back to my desk. I stared at the back of Kaitlin Mackay’s frizzy ponytail and wondered if we were going to bury grandma in an old pillowcase in the backyard, like we did with Biscuit.
I finished my handwriting quickly and slowly opened my tray. My show and tell was safely nestled beside my calculator, which was the colour of Maccas cheese, and where I’d drawn a flower on my tub in lead pencil.
Something told me I shouldn’t touch the object I’d rescued, but I did. It was mostly round, but also had some sharp, pointy bits. It felt mostly soft to touch, smooth in some places and rough in others.
I felt weird and my tummy hurt, but I wanted to keep it. I opened my tray a bit further to memorise how it melted from black to white over and over again. I considered keeping it a secret so no one would steal it, no one would take it away and I wouldn’t one day find it gone forever.
I looked to find a turned Kaitlin with a look of horror directed at me and my opened tidy tray.
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