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Disappearance
By
Rusty Broadspear
I held tight to Johnny's hand as we ran down to the water's edge.
Johnny skipped stones across the lake, I laughed and applauded.
He was 7, a whole year older'n me, cleverer and very strong.
We'd had fun today, we'd behaved as well and were duly rewarded.
I saw Mummy coming towards us carrying dishes of apple pie
Smothered in cream. Johnny's scrumpy favourite and mine too.
Three of us sat on the rocks, munching, wiping chins on sleeves,
While the water tickled the shoreline and a teasing breeze blew.
Mummy brushed my crumpled dress and took the dirty dishes
Back to the car that was parked next to a grand old willow tree.
Sometimes Mummy looked really pretty, she said I was too.
Johnny ran off, told me not to move, said he had to take a pee.
Only thought that word, makes Mummy angry, I have to say whiz,
But when I say whiz, it makes Johnny laugh. Mummy sang a song
Called Let it Be, she said the Beatles sang it, she was so silly sometimes.
Saw myself in the water, shivering, but I was warm, it seemed wrong.
Mummy asked where Johnny was, I said he'd gone off for a whiz
When she'd took the dishes. Mummy looked worried and called his name.
Johnny didn't answer so I pointed to the woods where he'd gone.
She hurt my hand as we ran into the trees, we both yelled, but no one came.
I was crying, Mummy told me to shush, we heard a car start, then drive fast.
She dragged me back to our car, we drove all the way back to the main track.
Never saw the other car and we never saw Johnny, never, not ever again.
Sometimes Mummy takes me back there, we cry and wish we had Johnny back.
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