Before we found our tree house we lived in shadowy no-mans-land-like elaborate catacombs. Maddie found the tree house one night when she was attacked and had nowhere to go. To begin with, our house was simple and barren. Now it’s beautiful and well thought out. Luke, our man about the house, worked hard to make life easier and took ideas for more comfort from watching The Swiss Family Robinson.
Now, the floor of the common room is made of beautifully polished wood and covered in pillows, blankets, and soft toys. When you have as many little ones as we do, you need lots of soft toys. Everything oozes warmth and comfort. At the opposite end from the staircase is an open fireplace, surrounded by hand-hewn schist stone.
Most days I’m sitting in my supersize armchair and knit. Although we live in a place of moderate weather—I’m always telling the Tribe our winter is like a bad summer in Europe—winter mornings can be chilly, and the little ones need warm covers.
Having a warm, inviting place to go to and call ours, has made life a lot easier, especially when the little ones are hurting under the burden of the memories they guard. They need protection and lots of care because without their memories being contained, we can’t function. We have to avoid leakages of memories at all cost. Leaking memories result in self-harm or suicide attempts, leading to hospital admissions and being drugged-out for days, if not weeks.
“Ama, are you ready for the meeting?”
Sky is probably worried we are running out of time. I feel sorry for her. A lot depends on her. In times of crisis, we are the polar opposite. She’s quick and plans several steps ahead, like a good chess player. I am slow and steady, like an elephant taking things one step at a time.
“I’m coming, give me a moment.” I’m looking down at Elise. The poor thing collapsed exhausted on her bed. No wonder after the funeral. I don’t understand why Elise isn’t part of the Tribe. Perhaps it is because she doesn’t want to know about us. This means no place in the tree house for her. I put another pillow at her side and drape a blanket over her. Then I enter our tree house. On my way to the common room, I pull two fighting kids apart and send them to their rooms. Remember, rule number one.
Luke calls me a two-hundred-pound force of nature. One day I’ll catch that cheeky monkey and box his ears. My chances are slim because I’m too slow. By the time I find my glasses, lift my long, black dress and white apron out of the way, and get all my wobbly bits into motion, he’s long gone. I don’t mind my squishy bits much, because they are burrows for the little ones when they need warmth and comfort.
What would you prefer? Two hundred pounds of love or one hundred pounds of love? Sometimes size does matter!
Sky gave me a heads-up earlier and I’ve prepared the Tribe’s favorites—crumpets with butter and tons of peanut butter and jam sandwiches. It should last for a while, at least until we are able to lift the lockdown.
Maddie comes in and hops onto my lap. She leans back and whispers into my ear so loudly, everyone in the big room can hear her.
“I’m still hungery. May I have a thpam thundwich, please?”
I’ve given up teaching Maddie proper English. I guess at the age of four and with two front teeth missing, it’ll only take a few years before she talks like the rest of us. Whether I’ll ever manage to move her past her love for spam is a totally different kettle of fish. Next to chocolate, it has been her favorite food for years now.
“Shh,” I put my index finger to my lips, “Pay attention to what Sky has to say. I’ll bring some sandwiches to your room later.”
Sky is standing in the middle of the common room and holds up a yellowed piece of paper. She looks excited and her positive mood seems to seep into the rest of the Tribe by osmosis. Sky usually operates in the background, like the Morning Star, shining bright, showing us the way. Rarely leaving her place in her room way up in the top of the tree house, she is the keeper of our memories—not the emotions, just the memories. More important, though, she is our moral compass. Everything that is good and honorable in us is coming through her.
“Elise found the deed to a house in the South Island. It belonged to Elizabeth’s aunt. I believe it’s ours now. If I remember right, we spent many summer vacations of our early childhood in that house. Aunt Amanda used to live in it. Who remembers Auntie Mandy?”
“She was a nice auntie. She sewed a dress for Madeline.” Maddie took her thumb out of her mouth and sniffed as big fat tears ran down her face as she remembers her doll. “I don’t know where Madeline is.”
“We will keep looking for her, sweetie.” Sky took a moment to collect her thoughts again. “Nobody can take the house away from us. It’s on the West Coast of the South Island, close to Port Somers and I don’t know in what kind of shape it is, but it’s ours. We can’t stay here with Helen. Elise overheard Helen saying she’ll send us to a clinic tomorrow. We have no choice but to leave tonight.”
Excitement and fear
