Page 52 of The Vanishing Place

Mum was inside the wooden box.

She hadn’t fought when they closed the lid on her. No waving fists. No kicking legs. She just lay there. Maybe she’d been too tired. Or maybe she hadn’t wanted to damage her nails. Mum always had nice painted nails.

“I want to go home,” Adam whispered.

“I know.”

“I don’t like it here.”

Dinah squeezed his hand. “We can’t leave yet. We have to stay a bit longer.”

Adam looked at his feet. At his new shiny black shoes.

Then at Dad. Dad pulled his hand away when Adam reached for it, and Adam shoved his hand into his pocket.

Maybe his fingers were cold. The church was always freezing.

Daniel sat on Dad’s other side. Daniel was two years younger than Dinah, but he told everyone that he was the oldest. Dad and Daniel weren’t holding hands either.

The priest was talking. His lips were full and soft like a donut, and bits of spittle sprayed out from the little black donut hole when he spoke.

Adam shifted, his bum going to sleep on the hard wood, and he kicked at the pew in front of him.

Dinah touched his leg when he did that, and Adam stopped.

“I’m so sorry that this is happening to you,” she whispered. Her eyes were red and puffy and wet. “That you’re losing her.”

Adam frowned. Confused. Dinah was losing Mum too.

Eventually the priest told them to bow their heads, and Adam did it perfectly. He knew how to pray. He could do that bit. He pushed his palms together super tight, then dipped his head low. Mum would be proud of his praying.

A woman on the other side of the aisle smiled at him and wiggled her fingers—interrupting his good praying—and Adam pretended to look at his shoes.

The woman came to the house sometimes, to bother Mum, but Dad always shooed her away.

The woman smiled again, her eyes wet and sad, and Adam scrunched his eyes shut.

When the priest finally finished, Adam glanced up too fast and stars flooded the church. He blinked lots, until the stars faded, then peered across at Dinah. But she didn’t raise her head. She didn’t even open her eyes. Dinah didn’t look up until his bum was fully asleep and it was time to leave.

As they walked from the church, Dinah gripped his hand, and Adam pressed his head against her arm. Dinah liked it when he did that.

It was raining outside. Yucky cold blobs.

Adam frowned as he looked down. The muddy ground was going to ruin his new shoes.

He clung to his sister, pulling warmth from her as they moved toward the car.

Sad people moved slow. Even in the rain.

Like big black slugs. Squelch. Squelch. Dad and Daniel were at the front, leading the slug train.

Adam wiped the water from his eyes and looked around.

Grass. Gray rain. Gray church. Gray skies. Trees.

Cameron .

Adam blinked. Cameron was there, standing behind a tree at the edge of the grassy area.

With no jacket or nothing. He’d be cold.

Adam looked at Dinah, but she didn’t look at Cameron.

Not a single peek. But she smiled, super small and quick, and Cameron stayed at the tree.

He was still there when they drove off in Dad’s big ute.

Adam peered out the window.

Cameron was probably real wet. Probably real bored of all that standing.

—

Stop. Stop.

Adam rolled over in bed, his body shaking, and buried his face into the pillow.

Go away. Go away .

But Mum wouldn’t go away. She was behind his eyelids. Dead. Rotting in the soil. With worms and bugs gobbling at her skin.

“ Stop ,” he shouted. “Go away.”

Adam opened his eyes and slapped at his face. But the mum thing was still there. The mum made of bones and worms. Adam curled into a ball and started to cry, his body cold and scooped out.

“Dinah,” he sobbed. “Dinah.”

But Dinah didn’t come. She didn’t curl under the covers with him.

“Dinah.”

Dinah always came.

Adam lifted his head, his eyes soggy and hot, and peered through the dark. But Dinah’s bed was empty.

“ Dinah ,” he yelled.

Snot and tears dripped down his cheeks.

“Dinah!”

Then the bedroom door flung open and the hall light poured in.

“I’m here, Adam. I’m here.” The bed sank with big sister’s body, and she stroked her fingers through his hair. “You’re okay,” she whispered. “You’re okay.”

“Where were you?” he sobbed.

“Dad says I can’t sleep in here anymore.”

Adam frowned. “Why?”

“He says it’s not right for us to share now. That I need to learn my place.”

“What place?” he sniffed.

Dinah just stroked his hair. Maybe she didn’t know where the place was either.

“But I like sharing a room with you,” said Adam.

Dinah smiled. “Me too.”

“I feel wet,” he said, starting to cry again. “I got scared. I thought that…”

Dinah kissed his head. “It’s okay.”

Big sister pulled back the wet duvet and threw it onto the floor, making a mountain with the sheets. Then she lifted his pajama top over his head.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Adam sniffed. “Can you sleep here tonight?”

Dinah peeled the damp pants from his legs and squeezed his hand.

“Our little secret.” She smiled.