Old man Bock filled a cast-iron saucepan with water and quartered plums, placed it on the gas flame, added sugar and lemon juice and squinted against the setting sun shining into his kitchen. He stirred the ruby red mixture, dissolved the sugar, turned up the heat and brought the fruit to a rolling boil, all the while watching Lucinda and Trudi sitting in his tree and eating his plums. He saw them every morning, too, meeting up on the footpath and walking off together in their primary school uniforms, blue polo neck shirts and grey shorts. He knew Lucinda's name. Her mother Marieta, a tall, dark woman, often called her in for dinner around this time.
Mr Bock caught sight of Marieta leaning from her back door turning her head this way and that, searching for her daughter.
"Lucinda! Lusi! Lako mai. Dinner time." Lucinda reached for a large red plum at the end of a long bough. On a lower branch Trudi slow bounced, her eyes on Lucinda, her insides buzzing from the touch of Lucinda's lips on hers. The branch creaked under Trudi's weight. Swaying leaves swished in time with her curly red hair. The tree played along, bending its limb, its hand extended, carrying Trudi's jubilant heart.
Lucinda copied Trudi's up and down bounce with more exuberance, without any thought for the effect of this motion on the branch holding her on its lichen-covered length. The bouncing on Lucinda's side grew too raucous, too much for the tree. It flicked her off and sprang back, throwing Lucinda to the ground. The fall wasn't very high. But the suddenness of it caught her by surprise. She screamed and landed thump! on her back. The shock of her diaphragm going into spasm sent her mind reeling. She struggled to breathe. Her lungs refused to inflate.
この記事は New Zealand Listener の January 14-20 2023 版に掲載されています。
7 日間の Magzter GOLD 無料トライアルを開始して、何千もの厳選されたプレミアム ストーリー、9,000 以上の雑誌や新聞にアクセスしてください。
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この記事は New Zealand Listener の January 14-20 2023 版に掲載されています。
7 日間の Magzter GOLD 無料トライアルを開始して、何千もの厳選されたプレミアム ストーリー、9,000 以上の雑誌や新聞にアクセスしてください。
すでに購読者です? サインイン
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