Free Aunt Effie's Ark by Jack Lasenby

hidden under snow.
    â€œI love Chinese gooseberries,” said Marie, but the rest of us couldn’t remember what they tasted like. We ate our sandwiches and chewed snow for something to drink.
    An hour or two before dark, we stood on top of Mount Te Aroha, and saw a brown haze. “It’s in the right direction for Auckland,” said Peter. He pointed west at some smoke: “And that’ll be Hamilton.”
    We tipped over the edge of the mountain and skied downhill all the way home. At the last moment, “ Ooowhooooo !” The Tattooed Wolf jumped from behind a snowdrift. He grabbed for the little ones but, luckily, he was only on snowshoes. Piggybacking Casey, Lizzie,Jared, and Jessie, we whizzed past, shot through Aunt Effie’s window, slammed the steel shutters closed, and locked them.
    As we panted and took off our skis, the peep-hole went dark. The Tattooed Wolf must have put his mouth to it because we heard a gentle whisper say, “I know where there’s a house made of gingerbread with cakes stuck all over the roof. The windows are made of boiled lollies. The doorstep’s a huge slab of chocolate; the door’s made of toffee, and the whole house is sprinkled with hundreds and thousands.”
    â€œOoh!” said the little ones.
    â€œThe kitchen’s filled to the ceiling with chews, chocolate bars, and Eskimo Pies, and you can eat the wallpaper, too.”
    â€œOoh!” said the little ones and drifted towards the window.
    â€œI’ve got a big bag of chews for you,” the gentle voice whispered again. “Liquorice allsorts, boiled lollies, bullseyes, chutty–”
    â€œI love chutty!” said Jared, but Ann and Jane took the little ones downstairs.
    â€œI’ve got a big box of Queen Anne chocolates!” the Tattooed Wolf whispered through the peep-hole.
    Marie was shepherding everyone else downstairs, but Alwyn stumbled across to the window, his hands out in front as if sleepwalking. He loved Queen Anne chocolates. Marie had to drag him – fighting – down to the kitchen. Peter ran back upstairs.
    â€œHow would you like another dose of castor oil?” we heard him say.
    â€œOoowhooooo! Ooowhooooo!” The howls faded intothe distance.
    Alwyn cried bitterly about the Queen Anne chocolates . Jared munched on a bit of cheese as if it was chutty but, when he tried, it wouldn’t stretch between his fingers.
    â€œDid he really have a big bag of chews?” we asked. “Was the gingerbread house true?”
    â€œHe was just making it all up,” said Marie. “Now what’s Daisy doing?”
    Daisy stood beside a table in the kitchen, wearing her school uniform: panama hat with the enamel badge, starched white blouse, tie, gym frock and sash, gloves, black stockings and polished shoes with the laces doubled in a bowknot so they wouldn’t come undone. She had her schoolbag over one shoulder and a strap in her hand.
    â€œSit down!” She gave the table a whack – just like Mr Jones. We jumped into the rows of double-desks that had appeared in front of a table, and banged down the seats.
    â€œQuietly,” said Daisy, “or you’ll spend your playtime practising sitting down without any noise. Now, answer your names as I call the roll: Mabel- Johnny-Flossie -Lynda-Stan-Howard-Marge-Stuart-Peter- Marie-Colleen -Alwyn-Bryce-Jack-Ann-Jazz-Beck-Jane- Isaac-David -Victor-Casey-Lizzie-Jared-Jess!”
    â€œPlease, miss,” said Jessie, “Mabel, Johnny, Flossie, Lynda, Stan, Howard, Marge, and Stuart are hibernating . Please, miss.”
    Daisy wrote their names on a blackboard and gave it such a whack with the strap, the chalk dust came off in a cloud. “Peter-Marie-Colleen-Alwyn-Bryce- Jack- Ann -Jazz-Beck-Jane-Isaac-David-Victor-Casey-Lizzie-Jared-Jess!”
    We answered, “Present!” all but Alwyn who shouted, “Absent!”
    â€œHere, what’s going on?”