The Wish Pony (12 page)

I couldn't speak. I opened my mouth, but it was completely empty of words.

‘She has got a ticket, sir,' Bailey was suddenly beside me, ‘it just wouldn't work in the machine.'

‘You don't go climbing over the barrier, young lady, you could hurt yourself. You should have waited for a staff member.'

‘There wasn't anyone around,' I said, my mouth suddenly working again.

‘It was partly my fault, sir,' Bailey said. ‘We're going to Parliament House and we're already a bit late.'

‘Passing an important bill are we, young man? Well, off you go, both of you, have a good time.'

Bailey found Parliament House without any trouble and then he found a guard who led us to a big room where the rest of the class was looking at pictures of important men.

‘What on earth?' Waddle practically shouted. ‘Bailey Ferguson and Ruby Logan, what are you doing here?'

‘We were running late,' Bailey said, ‘so Dad said to get the train in and gave us money for the ticket.'

‘You came in on the train?' Waddle was pink.

‘Yes,' Bailey said, ‘that's what Dad said to do. He was going to ring the school so they could let you know.'

‘No one has contacted me,' Waddle said. ‘You shouldn't be out unsupervised.'

‘But Dad told us to,' Bailey said.

‘Well, I suppose you are here and nothing went wrong. But really, I will have to have words with your father.'

Bailey slouched off to stand with Sam and Joel. When he saw me not moving, he jerked his head to indicate that I should join them. I walked over and stood a couple of steps away so I was kind of with them, and kind of not. But at lunchtime, he asked me to sit with them, so I did. I ended up telling them all about the Prancing Pooches and Grinder. Sam and Joel were easy to talk to. They weren't boy-boys – always poking and shoving – they were – well, just like people, really.

Sarah and Bree were talking about me – I could hear my name and they kept looking over in our direction – but I just did half a hair toss – I couldn't do the whole thing because my hair was in a pigtail – and kept right on talking to Sam, Joel and Bailey.

On the way home, they saved me a seat with them and Sam let me listen to his iPod. I wasn't that keen on the music, to be honest, but it was so cool to be sharing someone's iPod so I listened anyway. It was the best day I'd had since Bree came to the school and Sarah dumped me for her.

 

 

The phone call came late one night. Magda was eating pancakes and strawberry jam.

‘Oh yes, I think so. Yes. No problem. Everything's pretty settled here, really. I'll start packing.'

She put the phone down and began straightaway, pulling two big battered suitcases from under her bed. She wrapped her husbands' photographs in towels and put them in the suitcase first.

‘There you are, you dears. Moving on, moving on. Work's done here. New job about to start. Good to have a change.'

Bailey passed me a note in the first class.

A formal invitation to join the Three Musketeers, it read.
Of course, the Four Musketeers won't sound quite as good, but we'd still like you in our group
. It was signed Sam, Ryan and Bailey.

My face went hot and I didn't know what to say. It was the first time anyone had asked me to be part of their group. But they were boys. I couldn't be part of a boys' group. Or could I? Were there rules about it?

I wrote ‘Thank you' – that didn't say yes or no. I could think about it until recess.

At recess I got Bailey at his locker and said, ‘Bailey, I'm really pleased that you and Sam and Joel want me as part of the group, but … I'm a girl.'

‘We know that,' Bailey said. ‘So?'

‘Well, it's a little, um, unusual to have a girl in a boys' group?'

Bailey shrugged, ‘I don't see why,' he said. ‘I mean, we like talking to you. It's not as if we've asked you to be on a football team or anything. I mean, feminism did happen, you know. My mum tells me about it all the time.'

Just then Sarah and Bree walked past. I made up my mind instantly.

‘That's very true, Bailey. You're absolutely right. I'd love to join!'

So I sat with them at lunchtime and shared Sam's iPod again. This time I didn't mind his music. He was listening to the Beatles and I knew some of the songs so we sang along.

‘Hey, Ruby, you've got a nice voice,' Joel said, ‘not like Sam! He can't hold a tune.'

Then they did the boy poking and shoving thing but it was okay.

After school, Bree caught up with me on the walk up the hill.

‘Ruby!' She'd run.

I didn't answer. I just kept walking with my head down.

‘Ruby, I want to talk to you.' Bree danced ahead of me and stood blocking my way. ‘Please?'

I stopped. I still didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. What would Bree want to talk to me about?

‘I just want to say,' the words rushed out of her mouth as though she'd been practising them, ‘that I think you're really cool. It was like, awesome, the way you and Bailey just turned up at the excursion yesterday and you both went on the train and everything. I really thought that was cool. I wouldn't have been game. I'd really like to be your friend, Ruby. I know we've had our differences but I'd really to be your friend.'

‘You've got Sarah,' I said and took a step forward.

‘The thing with Sarah is that … well, we don't have a lot in common really. I mean she's sweet but ...' She gave a little shrug as if we both knew what she meant.

I stared at her. How could she think she could be my friend by being mean to Sarah?

‘I don't want to be your friend,' I blurted out. ‘I never wanted to be your friend.'

Bree's mouth fell open but she shut it quickly and raised her eyebrows. ‘You'd rather be friends with the nerds?' she said.

‘Yes,' I answered and pushed past her and kept walking.

‘You're a loser, Ruby Logan,' she yelled out behind me but I didn't even bother to turn around.

Mum was home and the house smelt of chocolate muffins and paint.

‘What do you think of Tim?' she asked me as soon as I came in the front door.

I wrinkled my nose. ‘Everyone's called Tim,' I said, ‘what about Sebastian?'

‘It's such a big name and he's such a little baby.'

‘But he needs a name to grow into,' I pointed out, ‘he won't stay little forever, Mum.'

‘I know. But it's still a big name. Do you want to come into the hospital on the weekend and see him?'

I hesitated. I really didn't like the hospital and it wasn't as if Baby Logan did anything. He just slept and sometimes he cried. It was a little sad cry and I hated hearing it.

‘Please?'

‘Okay, but I've homework to do, so not for long?'

‘That's a deal, sweetheart. I know the hospital's hard.'

‘It's not that,' I lied. ‘I've got homework.'

It wasn't until I was walking Grinder that I thought of the perfect name. We could call Baby Logan Gerald, after the man who wrote
My Family and Other Animals
. It wasn't too big a name. But it was still a name you could grow into.

I could hardly wait until dinnertime, but I did. I wanted Dad to hear, too.

‘Hmm,' he said and looked over at Mum, ‘what do you think?'

‘Gerald,' she said softly and then again, ‘Gerald Logan. Sounds like an explorer.'

‘I like it,' Dad said, ‘it's not – you know – faddish like Troy and all those names of American places. No, I like it. It's a good name.'

‘Just so long as no one calls him Gerry,' Mum said, ‘I don't like Gerry.'

‘I do,' I said, ‘it sounds like a happy name. I like Gerry.'

‘Well, just so long as not many people call him Gerry,' Mum said, ‘I like Gerald. It's dignified.'

‘But not too big,' I pointed out, ‘it's a medium-sized name, really. He was a really good writer.'

‘I think it could be Gerald,' Dad said.

‘I'll tell them tomorrow at the hospital and they can take down that awful Baby Logan sign. Oh Ruby, well done, sweetheart – you've found your little brother a name! Oh – and before I forget – I've got a surprise for you, too! Look what's on the sewing table.'

I followed Mum into the room, and there more than half finished were curtains for my room. Cream curtains covered in brightly coloured butterflies.

‘I'm sorry you didn't choose, but I found the fabric today, on special, and this was the end of the roll. So I just said yes and crossed my fingers.'

‘Oh, Mum – they'll be beautiful!'

‘I thought so,' she said, ‘lots and lots of butterflies bringing you sweet dreams every night.'

I told the Wish Pony about the butterfly curtains he'd soon be seeing and that my brother's name was Gerald, after Gerald Durrell, and that
I
had thought of it. I think he shook his mane a little in excitement. At least I felt it ripple against my fingers.

 

 

I was looking forward to going to the hospital now that Baby Logan had a proper name – and I'd given it to him. It made him seem more like my brother, somehow. I'd given him a bit of my life, in a way.

We went in straight after lunch on Saturday. I smiled at the nurses, tried not to look at any people with tubes and headed straight for Gerald's bed. Of course, he still didn't do much. He just slept and sucked his tiny thumb. But the new sign above his bed read Gerald Logan in big black letters. He looked a little bigger, too, though he was still very small.

I patted him. His skin was very soft and he felt warm. I patted him for quite a while. It was important for him to know me, particularly as I'd named him. It's a bit like when you've got a new puppy – you want them to recognise your smell. Tom had told me that and I'd tucked one of my old t-shirts right at the back of Grinder's kennel so he'd think of me as well as Tom.

Dad and I left Mum at the hospital and we bought another big pot at the nursery and Dad advanced me some money for the flowers. I chose pansies, of course – purple ones with little yellow faces. They were pretty small, too, but I knew they'd grow just like Gerald was growing. When we got home, Dad helped me plant them out.

‘I think this is a lovely idea of yours, Ruby,' he said. ‘I'm going to pick up a good outside chair, especially for your mum. She needs a bit of spoiling, poor Rita. Everything she's been through. You can help me choose one. We might put a bird feeder on that tree over there. Then your mum could watch the rosellas.'

‘I don't want her to see it yet,' I told him, ‘not until the flowers really come out. Not until Gerald comes home.'

‘Won't be too long now,' Dad said, ‘and then life will be back to normal. Well, as normal as life can be with a new little baby. You seem a little happier, too, Ruby. Things going well at school?'

It always surprised me when Dad noticed stuff like that. So I told him the whole story about Bailey and the excursion and he laughed the hardest I'd heard him laugh for weeks.

‘I should be cranky,' he said between guffaws, ‘but I'm too proud of you for acting on your initiative. You're growing up, aren't you?'

A bit of me didn't want to grow up – not completely – so I just smiled at Dad and didn't say anything.

‘Don't grow up too fast,' he said, ‘stay my little girl for a while longer.' And he gave me a quick hug that smelt of blood and bone and compost. I smelt just as bad, so I didn't care.

 

 

Magda started on the display cabinets. She dusted everything, wrapped the items in tissue paper and packed them carefully in some old shoeboxes. She took special care with the red Venetian glasses. When she came to Emperor, her fingers started to tingle.

‘So,' she told the lopsided penguin, ‘it's your turn, is it? Well, that tells us something, doesn't it?' She wrapped the penguin in tissue paper and put it in a voluminous carpet bag which was already quite full of essentials. There was a pair of purple socks, three men's linen handkerchiefs marked with different initials, a bottle of Rescue Remedy, two pairs of reading glasses, one packet of trail mix, a tube of sunscreen and three old books as well as the usual things like lipstick (red) and an assortment of house keys. The bag was quite heavy. The penguin was tucked into a side pocket, where he could travel without being jostled around.