Black Pages 2014: Wrestling With the Notion of Sin

The essence of the scene set in the wetlands of Darlinghurst, with the children enjoying their adventurous day.

The Black Pages. Entry One: 15/9/2014

I was born in the little town of Darlinghurst. (The spider listens intently). Darlinghurst is surrounded by wetlands and there are only two roads in. One of those roads is guarded by a Troll.

Or so we believed as we wandered around the marshes in our short grey pants, slinging stones at frogs and poking sticks into snake holes, and on a good day, finding a raft made of corrugated iron that  would skim across the surface of the waters for a bit until it encouraged us to place our entire weight on it and then for sure the devil came along and tipped us into the quagmire and that is why, Mamma, we are late for Tea. 

 
We enjoyed to share those days together, my brother and my sister and me. We did not know that days of childhood would fade away. We saw adult people and perhaps they somehow resembled us but for all we knew they were cardboard cutout apparitions and held no place in our future. 

We could hardly find our way through the eternity of the summer holidays, let alone imagine a life as adult.

One time my brother and I snuck away from the house leaving our little sister in the pantry where we had lured her with the promise of smarties, only to lock the door and barricade her in while we made wicked witch noises through the louvres. When we heard her whimpering we giggled in mistaken success and whistled ourselves away. We loved those afternoons where we did not have to contend with a Girl! slowing things down.

We had a little wagon. One of us could sit in it and the other could pull it with a single handle. We could swap, take turns about. Without little sister our turn would come back quicker. We began to plot to leave her in the pantry forever. Who would ever think of looking for her there? Girls only muck things up. You only have to trip them up while they are running and off they go scampering home to dob you in. We’re better off without her.

And let’s face it, she is the only girl there is. We don’t know any others. We’ve been told that when we go to school there will be girls and boys there who we never met yet. We find that hard to believe. We sometimes notice adults just make things up. Pretend that things are true. Like the time our father told us that this Jesus had walked on water. We could not even stand up on water with the help of a corrugated iron raft, let alone in our bare feet. We scoffed inside. But of course we murmured softly, “Daddy, tell us more stories from the Bible”. He smiled at us when we asked such things so we knew this was the way to go.

The darkness had arrived by this time, I seem to recall. Or perhaps things were just a little grey. It is hard to remember my state of mind so long ago, very clearly. I can find some indications. For instance I began to wrestle with the notion of sin.