The Pendant of Elemento Magico

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The Pendant of Elemento Magico

Ruth Woodman | Colbinabbin Primary School |
English | Term 3, 2024


Prologue

Flash! A bright, blinding light, fills the room. A human-like figure steps out from the source of the white brightness and tiptoes quietly across the room. Hanging off its neck swings a thin snake-like object. This object appears to have spiraling rings of heavy gold chain. In the middle hangs a pendant, with some sort of a crest engraved on it. The lanky figure comes to the cot and stops, lifting from his neck the necklace. He holds it above the baby, his kind eyes glowing at the sight of her. He then gently places it on her. As it touches her soft, smooth skin a small light on the pendant glows. First a green light sparks. Then a red and a blue flash on. Finally, comes a yellow light. The figure looks to the porthole of light, noticing it has already changed to red. Beginning to hurry he says a final good bye. Kissing the sleeping baby he whispers, “Sometimes you have to be brave September. Sometimes you must do the impossible.” His voice fades away. Planting a final kiss on her cheek he leaves the baby, this time running towards the portal of light. As soon as he steps inside, the light retracts and the hole in the room disappears, returning the room to its original darkness.

Chapter 1

“September! … SEP! TEM! BER!” I wake to an all too familiar voice.

“September!” growls an angry voice from the room next door.                                                                   

“I’m coming! May I at least get dressed!” I shout back at my infuriating mother.

That was my longest sleep in weeks. I must have been extra tired after doing even extra work yesterday. I stayed up half the night cleaning Mum’s car so she could go out tonight. I don’t get why I couldn’t have done it this morning… probably so I can do all sorts of other tedious jobs for her.

Now dressed I race to the kitchen. Well, at least pretend to anyway. I groan, no one has gone shopping for a while. I take a mental note to ask Grandma to go shopping for us. Rifling through our old rickety wooden cupboards to gather something for Mum’s breakfast, I find hidden behind a box of half-finished cereal our last remaining baked beans can – what Mum has every day for breakfast on toast. I heat up the baked beans making sure they’re the exact right temperature. I was in Mum’s bad books yesterday (Well, I  guess I’m always in them, so technically I was in her bad bad books yesterday, but anyway) and I really want to go to Grandma’s tonight. Mum knows I love going to Grandma’s and could take back the chance if I disobey. She has before threatened to call a babysitter. I cook Mums toast – making it extra crispy – and add an even spread of 2 millimeters of butter. Finally, I make her tea – plain black with 3 sugars. Trying not to spill a drop of tea, I rush the food to Mum’s bedroom.

A strong aroma of an expensive fragrance greets me. “Finally!” Mum roars. Mum is propped up on her fluffy silk pillows. Lounging in her bed is all she seems capable of doing – apart from spending money, I guess. I notice that on her wall she has a new painting. This one seems even more bigger and brighter than the last one. It’s annoying, Mum can go shopping for things she doesn’t need instead of things we do need. Like food. I’m sure we must be getting low on money because she doesn’t have a job. We just use all dad’s money since he died.  “Good.” Mums says. “Now go scrub those floors. It should take you 1 hour at a minimum. And don’t think you’ll be getting any breakfast until you’ve fed Old Jill and the Dog and done the washing up!”

Chapter 2

Yeah. I would hope that you gathered that  Mum’s not the nicest of Mums. Dad why did you marry this person, I am literally her personal slave?! I at least get breaks on the weekend when Mum sends me to Grandma’s so Mum can go off partying or at some pub or something – money wasting in other words. My Grandma is the absolute best. She tells me exciting stories of all the amazing things my dad has achieved. He was an amazing horse rider back in the day and won lots of trophies. He was also a great community member – always willing to help out.

The farm I now live on used to be Dad’s family farm. He and his parents lived here. Then Dad met Mum and they brought a small house on the edge of town. Dad’s Dad was getting old and had come down with a case of pneumonia. It gradually got worse and he eventually died. Grandma decided the property was too big for her to look after by herself. So, then Dad and her basically swapped houses.

When I was three, Dad unexpectedly passed away so I have barely any memories of him. My most vivid memory of him is when I was baby. He was leaning over me and whispered “Sometimes you have to be brave September. Sometimes you must do the impossible…”. 

Something about the calm, gentle magic of his voice has kept this memory crystal clear in my mind for ages. But what does he mean… does he mean I have to be brave living with my Mum. Most defiantly… but what about doing the impossible? Sometimes I don’t know. Sometimes I just think that I invented those words in my mind. Something to…reassure me. Knowing that someone else… cares.

Chapter 3

45 minutes later…

 I’ve been scrubbing furiously with my sponge and warm soapy water. My nose is stuffed with the sweet lemony scent of the soap. It makes me feel dizzy and as if I’m drinking tonnes of lemonade that’s fizzing up my nose. My hands sting like they’re covered in a swarm of angry bees. My back aches from leaning over for what seems like 12 hours. Why couldn’t I use a mop instead? It’s like Mum wants to torture me. I stop for a millisecond to catch my breath. “September that will be another 20 minutes if you stop again!” Mum shouts angrily. “Seriously!” I groan to myself. I wish Dad was here. I’m sure he wouldn’t do this to me…or…would he? No of course not. If what Grandma says is true… it just has to be true. It just must. Please be true.

Chapter 4

“September dear!” Grandma calls out from our rusty iron bared front gate. I look up the driveway and see Grandma standing there – happy as always in her pink floral apron and white daisy top

“Coming!” I sing back to Grandma. “See you Mum!” I grab my backpack with the beautiful chestnut-coloured horses and swing it on my shoulder. As I walk outside the cool evening air hits me. I hug my jumper tightly around my thin body.

I begin running up our dusty dirt driveway. Stones and loose rocks flick up behind me. I love running outside in the fresh country air. I zoom past paddock after paddock – once filled with sheep and cows. (Until Mum sold them all). Past Jill our old horse. The only remaining farm animal apart from our dog Dusty. Probably only because Jill is too old for anyone to want her and Dusty well, I guess he keeps us company because it’s only Me and Mum. I keep running, beginning to feel a bit tired – why is our driveway so long?! Well it’s not actually that long but it feels it. Thinking about Mum gives me strength to keep going, not because I love her, but because I want to get away from her as soon as possible.

“Slow down, slow down. Speedy cheetah” Grandma chuckles as I race up to the side of her old, dented, white Toyota puffing. “Hop in”.

I jump into the front passenger seat and relax a little. Grandma’s car always smells of something nice. Today it smells of lemon flavoured lollies smothered in cherry chocolate. Or maybe just lollies smothered in cherry chocolate. My nose is probably still stuffed with lemon scented soap.

“Drive! Drive! Drive!” I huff. Half chocking on huge gulps of air.

“Okay Okay, hold your horses. ” Grandma laughs and gets in. “How’s your day being ?” She starts the engine. It gives a few grunts and gurgles before it come to life.

 Chapter 5

We arrive at Grandma’s little house on the edge of town. The house is all a glow with the sun behind it, already beginning to set. The garden lies spread out like a colourful blanket in front of the small weatherboard house. Daisies, pansies, bluebells and daffodils pop up everywhere. A spiraling vine of ivy creeps along the walls of the house. A smooth rock path leads up to the front door. On the house a small blue chimney puffs gentle breaths of smoke, the whole scene makes the house look like a magical fairy tale cottage.

As I enter Grandma’s house, I take in the familiar scent of the polished wood floor. A short hallway brings us to an open sitting room and kitchen. Across the room is another hallway carpeted with luscious purple. This leads to some bedrooms and a study. All is plain and simple but homely. In the kitchen hangs the most gorgeous mugs, including September’s favourite, the brown slick backed horse. On her wall Grandma has the same pictures Dad, her and Me – strangely none of Mum. Their thin, delicate frames are beautifully hand painted with dainty pink flowers. (Grandma’s quite the artist). These pictures hang on the wall with the most colourful of strings: Bright blue, the pinkest of pinks, ruby red, emerald green and so on.    

Grandma comes in after putting the car away in the shed. I take a seat in a burgundy coloured armchair and relax as my body sinks down in it.

“Now you haven’t forgotten darling, have you?” Grandma sits down and joins me in a chair opposite.

“Forgotten what?” I say feeling very confused.

“What’s the date today” Asks Grandma. I ponder this question for a moment. I haven’t forgotten Grandma’s birthday, have I? No, I can’t of, it’s July and hers is in May. Wait July.

“My Birthday!” I exclaim. I was so busy this morning that I had completely forgotten.

“So, no presents yet I assume.” Grandma says. I shake my head. “Well thank goodness I got you one. I can’t believe you’re 12 already” Grandma says with a grin, squeezing my shoulder “Also, I shall take you out tomorrow, but presents first.”

“Thanks Grandma, you’re the best” I hug her.

Grandma goes to the linen closet and comes back with something wrapped in a mysterious thin brown paper. Small bits of the paper are beginning to wear off. The mysterious package looks I million years old! Grandma hands me the package and I begin opening it, being careful not to tear the frail paper.

“Now this present is from your dad, but seen he’s not here to give it to you, I have to” Grandma explains.

From Dad! But why didn’t Grandma give it to me ages ago? Why now when I’m 12?

With the ugly packaging now removed I take a look at what lies in my hand – an even more ugly plastic looking necklace. A boring chain made of rope with a hunk of plastic shaped as pendent hanging off it. The most interesting thing was that on the pendant was a kind of engravement. Something that looked a bit like a flame, a wave of water, a gust of wind and a mound of dirt? Odd. Why did Dad want me to have this strange necklace? To me it seemed more fit for a two year old.

“Thanks Grandma” I say, trying to hide the fact that I’m not that excited about a chunk of plastic on a shoelace.

“Come on, try it on!” Grandma gets very excited.

I pick the necklace up and carefully lift it over my neck. As it touches me something peculiar happens. A bolt of electricity rushes through me. My head feels dizzy and everything is black. Then a bright light appears and it keeps getting brighter and brighter. Panicking I quickly take the necklace off.

My senses come to me again, to start with, my vision is blurry. It takes a little while before I can clearly see Grandma patting me on the back and saying: “Are you all right sweetheart?”

“Um, I think so.” I manage to say. “I might go lie down. I’m a bit tired from all my work today.”

“Okay sweetheart. Maybe tomorrow you could try the necklace on again?” Grandma says in her sweet grandmotherly tones.

“Yeah maybe” I add. Already planning never to wear the cursed thing again.

“Oh and also, here is a present from me.” Grandma adds pulling out something from beneath her chair. She hands me a medium sized box wrapped in a pretty floral paper. Inside I find some writing materials and a box of paints, as well as a little tin of chocolates. “Thanks heaps Grandma” I say and I make my way to bed.

Ruth Woodman | Colbinabbin Primary School

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