Flaming Arrows, Gunpowder, and Ingratitude; Staying a Baby for Ever With Elastic in the Legs of Her Bloomers; Scalped by Redskins; and Why Witches Are Good at Multi-Tasking.
“As my little mother disappeared again, Mrs Grizzle took a breath so big that I could hear her ears ring, and blew into the sails. We knew the monster pukeko couldn’t fly far without a tail and, sure enough, we caught up as it nose-dived and crash-landed on an island.
“It saw us and cursed, ‘Drat!’ It tore the elastic off my mother’s Panama hat, flung itself down on its back, stuck both feet in the air, and stretched the elastic between its claws. We watched in helpless dismay as it cackled, drew back the elastic with its teeth, and fired a flaming arrow at our sails.
“The quick-witted Bonny lowered them into the water. Swearing, the monster pukeko lit another flaming arrow to fire at the barrels of gunpowder on the scow’s deck, but I leapt ashore with my father’s sword and slashed the elastic. It snapped back, knocked out the vile beast, and the flaming arrow sizzled into the water.
Mrs Grizzle bent its head under one wing, clipped the other, and chained it between two ringbolts on deck with the rest of the monster pukekos, who began pecking it because it had no tail.
“I picked up my little mother and hugged her. ‘Are you all right, Euphemia?’
“‘Naughty Brunnhilde! You ruined my elastic,’ she whined. ‘And you’ve made my nice new school uniform all dirty!’
“‘I’ll sew on a new piece of elastic. I’ll sponge and press your gym,’ I promised. ‘As good as new!’ But my mother stamped her button shoes, tossed her golden ringlets, and pinched me cruelly.
“Back home, Mrs Grizzle drove the monster pukekos into one of the deer paddocks. They couldn’t fly over the high fence with their clipped wings.
“I had to piggyback my little mother up to the house. She grizzled for something to eat, so I made her a honey sandwich. ‘I wanted peanut butter,’ she whined. I made her a peanut butter sandwich. ‘I wanted Vegemite,’ she pouted.
“‘Make up your mind,’ I told her, ‘or you won’t have any sandwich at all.’
“‘You wait till your father comes home,’ she said in her spoiled little voice. ‘We’ll see what he has to say when I tell him you’ve been playing with his medals and his sword.’
“‘It was lucky for you that I had his sword!’
“My mother screwed up her little face and poked out her pink tongue. ‘Your father will be very annoyed with you!’
“‘You’ll have to be his little girl now,’ I told her. ‘You’re much smaller than me.’
“My mother smiled at that. ‘I’m going back to school tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I want to see the nice School Inspector again.’
Jessie sat up on the foot of Aunt Effie’s enormous bed and pulled her thumb out of her mouth. “Euphemia sounds just like Daisy!” she said.
Daisy went, “Huff!”
“Now, listen!” Aunt Effie said.
“‘IT’S ALL RIGHT,’ Mrs Grizzle whispered to me. ‘Euphemia’s just tired. She’s had a big day and doesn’t know what she’s saying.’
“While my mother had a nice little lie-down, Bonny came to the back door. ‘I’ve done the milking,’ she told Mrs Grizzle. ‘It’s so much easier with the pigs doing the separating, and the cows sweeping and hosing down the yard themselves.’
“‘Come in!’ said Mrs Grizzle, ‘and sit down. We were just about to have a cup of tea.’
“Bonny wiped her feet, came into the kitchen, and sat on the edge of a chair. She managed the cup and saucer quite well, considering.
“Afterwards, while Mrs Grizzle and Bonny dried and patched the sails, I sewed a new piece of elastic on my mother’s Panama, and sponged and pressed her gym. I scraped off the mud, dried her shoes on the rack above the stove, and polished them shiny black. Her starched white blouse was filthy where the monster pukeko had wiped its beak. I put it to soak, and sprinkled and pressed and aired a fresh one for tomorrow.
“After tea I tucked my mother into bed and read her a story. She said all the other girls at school had a skipping rope and sobbed piteously till I promised to make one for her, too. Once she was asleep, I cut a skipping rope off a length of plough-line, and Mrs Grizzle showed me how to make a crown knot and tuck the ends to stop them coming undone.
“Just after dark, Bonny came in. ‘The monster pooks pecked the tailless one to death,’ she said.
“‘The deer don’t like having to share the same paddock. They say the monster pooks do stinky poos all over the grass.’
“‘We’ll see about that tomorrow,’ said Mrs Grizzle. ‘Let’s get to bed. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.’
“In the morning, I had to plait my mother’s hair. All the other girls had plaits. The knot on her sash had to go on the right. All the other girls wore theirs on the right. I had to take the laces out of her shoes and put them back criss-crossed. All the other girls wore theirs criss-crossed.
“We sailed her across the Great Waharoa Swamp to where the Turangaomoana Road came out of the water. Bonny took the neck of her blouse between her teeth and carried her ashore.
“‘Take the cream to the factory first, Bonny,’ Mrs Grizzle called. ‘Sit under Euphemia’s desk and see that School Inspector doesn’t give her the strap. We’ll meet you here after school. If there’s no trouble, you can have new shoes!’
“Bonny clapped her hands. Dear vain creature, she loved having nice things! I lifted my mother on to her saddle. Bonny balanced the can of cream on her head, and they trotted down the Turangaomoana Road and joined the Ryan and Troughton kids riding to school. I felt a lump in my throat.
“‘You’ve got to get used to the fact that your mother’s a growing girl,’ Mrs Grizzle told me. ‘You can’t keep her a baby for ever, you know.’”
Daisy burst into tears. “Why can’t dear little Euphemia stay a baby for ever?” she cried. In fact, we knew Daisy has no time for real babies – because they’re so messy – but she loves wishy-washy stories about them. Still, the rest of us pulled our thumbs out of our mouths and said, “Yes! Why can’t Brunnhilde’s little mother, Euphemia, stay a baby for ever?”
“With long yellow ringlets!” said Colleen.
“And button shoes!” said Jane.
“And elastic in the legs of her bloomers!” said Ann.
But the little ones turned on us. “It’s all right for you!” they shouted together. “Just because you’re bigger. Who wants to be a baby for ever? We want to grow up and be real people!”
Aunt Effie stared at each of us in turn till we stuck our thumbs back in our mouths and shut up, then she went on with her story.
“MRS GRIZZLE AND I sailed home, and ran an electric fence around them to keep the monster pukekos away from the deer. That meant we had to build another trough because the deer complained that somebody had done number twos in theirs.
“‘Those monster pooks need something to keep them occupied, Brunnhilde,’ said Mrs Grizzle. ‘Think of something that’ll keep them busy, or they’ll just start annoying the deer again.’
“Pouring concrete, laying pipes to the new trough, there was so much to do, we forgot about lunch and, suddenly, it was late afternoon. Mrs Grizzle threw down her shovel and said, ‘Come on, we’ve got to pick up your mother from the other side of the swamp.’
“That night, I bathed Euphemia, piggybacked her up to bed, read her a story about a dear little girl with long golden ringlets who was scalped by Redskins, tucked her in, kissed her goodnight, and took the candle downstairs. ‘It’s hard work, bringing up your mother as well as running a farm,’ I said to Mrs Grizzle.
“She smiled. ‘It’s no trouble to witches because we’re used to multi-tasking, as I’ve told you before, Brunnhilde. We’ll get those cows milking themselves again. We’ll teach the sheep to shear their own wool. And to skirt, and class, and bale it. And Euphemia will have to learn how to sail herself to school.’
“‘But she’s such a little thing – not much more than a toddler!’
“‘Don’t be mawkish! She is your mother after all. Besides, she’s got Bonny to see she comes to no harm.’
“I knew witches were good at multi-tasking and could do anything – because Mrs Grizzle could, but I wasn’t sure about a little girl like my mother.
“‘And then we really must do something about your education, Brunnhilde,’ Mrs Grizzle said.
“‘But my mother’s going to school for me!’
“‘I didn’t say school,’ said Mrs Grizzle, ‘I said education!’ She stirred another handful of gunpowder into her tea. ‘You want to be a witch, don’t you?’”