Short Story: The Red House
Written By Zifa Tanner-Kamal
Quick Introduction From Editor:
This term, there was a year 10 LIT short story writing competition. All the shortlisted entries were judged by YA novelist, Nova Weetman and Journalist and author of Kitchen SInk Drama, Paul Connolly, who both decided that the story you’re about to read was better than all the other ones (but I’m sure that they were great too).
The Red House
By Zifa Tanner-Kamal
Ettie Rogers had moved in next door in March. My parents, naturally, disapproved from the beginning; a single woman living alone. But that was before she’d even painted the house. A deep red, the colour of blood, and roses, and anger. After that, their mistrust grew, but so did my curiosity.
She would have people over, late at night, and they would talk for hours. Sometimes with excitement, sometimes with anger, sometimes with despair. And I would listen.
The first time they came I was at my desk, writing. The window was open to let some cool night air in before the heat of the day returned, and I started to hear voices filtering through the torn fly screen. I looked out and saw people shuffling into Ettie’s main room, greeting each other, and arranging themselves around a table. There were about ten of them all in all. As I strained to hear I caught the eye of a boy who couldn’t have been older than I was, sitting at the far end of the table. He raised an eyebrow and smiled, but I ducked quickly away behind the window.
“Greetings Comrades, and welcome to the first meeting of the Fitzroy Communist Society of 1952!” This was said by a balding man in his fifties, who seemed to be in charge, even though the meetings were at Ettie’s house.
I listened intently, pretending to myself I understood half the words flying around the room.
“We need to discuss our stance on the Bolshevik-Menshevik split of 1912. It is crucial that we all come to an agreement as we must be united against capitalism.”
“It is a contentious issue.”
“With all due respect Kevin, even Lenin himself said the Mensheviks were liquidationists. How can you possibly maintain that position and still sleep at night?”
Bang! I flinched backwards, returning to myself. I’d just knocked the window wide open, through which I could see the entire membership of the Fitzroy Communist Society gaping at me. I quickly ducked back out of sight, my heart rate through the roof. If my parents found out I’d been spying, I could very well die. DLP parents and secret Communist societies make terrible neighbours.
* * *
I’d been on edge all night, which is why I was so surprised by what happened the next morning. I was just coming home from school when I was approached by that very Ettie Rogers.
Before I could run in the opposite direction, she smiled at me and said:
“Hey, it’s Georgie*, right? Hey about yesterday, look it’s totally ok. I completely understand. In faaact, we’ve been really eager to get younger people involved. We have meetings on the first Tuesday of each month, would you be interested in joining?”
I stood with my mouth open for what felt like several minutes before I realised she was expecting me to answer.
“Oh, uh, yeah, um, ok. I mean, yes.”
She smiled at me again and shook my hand.
“That’s great to hear, Georgie. See you next month!”
I shook my head as she walked away. What was I getting myself into?
* * *
The next few months were the wildest months of my little life. I attended meetings every month and learnt about things I’d only heard my parents discuss under their breath. The proletariat, the bourgeois, class struggle, the Soviet Union…
Naturally, my father being a bit of an anti-communist (like most people in the neighbourhood), lead to some tension.
One Tuesday in early September my father had just returned from his job as a pamphlet deliverer for the DLP and he was in a cheery mood.
“Stalin’s on his way out,” he announced, sitting down loudly.
“How so?” asked my mother jovially, setting down his tea.
“ Santamaria** said so himself. Stalin’s clearly ill. He hasn’t given a public speech in years… it’s obvious he hasn’t got long to go.”
I don’t know what had gotten into me that day, but I was feeling uncharacteristically bold.
“Well, he’s done great things for his country, in his time.”
“Georgie, do not pretend to understand these things. Stalin is the evilest dictator alive. He is possibly worse than Hitler. In this household, his death will be a cause for celebration. Understood?”
I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me, but stopping just outside so I wouldn’t miss what they had to say about my disobedience.
.“She’s only 14…”
“Old enough to know what’s right and wrong!”
“Robert, you know it’s more complicated than that”
“Who are you to disagree with me, woman! Watch your bloody mouth. I decide what happens with the girl” At this, I walked back to my room, hoping they wouldn’t hear the floorboards creaking. There would be a meeting tonight, I didn’t want to miss it.
I had to be extra careful that night, as my parents were definitely on to me. I clambered out the window with bated breath, knowing any noise would alert them to my presence.
“GEORGIE!!”
I looked back at my mother, one leg straddled over the windowsill
THE END
*Georgie is unofficially named after Georgi Dobrolovsky, who died in space.
**B.A. Santamaria was a senior member and founder of the Democratic Labor Party
Commentary
I took inspiration from Tony Birch in many forms in this story, the primary one being setting. I was inspired by the world Birch had created in Shadowboxing and used a background character as my inspiration for my story. I also learnt from him to have a tone that reflects the protagonist in some way. As Birch’s stripped back and reserved tone at the beginning of shadowboxing reflects Michael’s shy and sensitive character, it becomes more descriptive and confident as Michael grows up. I have used the same technique by using a more playful and flamboyant tone to characterise Georgie, who is a lively and curious girl.
This is pretty much it. I hope that constitutes a reflection. AND you were inspired by the red house!
-
If you have any inquiries, comments or feedback, let us know by commenting down below, emailing us directly through our ‘Contact Us page, or messaging us through:
Instagram: @ubiqueuhs
Gmail: ubiqueteam@gmail.com