The Fall of Light by Sarah Laing

Author:Sarah Laing [Sarah Laing]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781775533047
Publisher: Penguin Random House New Zealand
Published: 2013-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Greg came to visit. He brought some muttonbirds that his neighbour had dropped off. His neighbour was always plying him with oysters and paua, but Greg generally shared them only with women, in order to benefit from their aphrodisiac qualities. He also had a crate of beers.

‘What are you doing with all those, mate? My daughters are here.’

‘Wasn’t planning on drinking all of these tonight. I picked them up on the way over.’

‘Mum will be really pissed off if she hears that you’ve been getting drunk on the job,’ said Seraphine.

‘Hey, Phinie! So great to see you,’ said Greg.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

‘Phinie, come on, you can do better than that.’ He made a hei tiki face, his eyes wide, his tongue extended.

A twitch that could be a smile.

‘Right then.’ Greg brought his fist to his mouth and began mimicking a trumpet. His legs started kicking out, Cossack-style, before he morphed into his Baltic Dancing Bear routine. He lunged for Seraphine, bear-paws grabbing at her.

She could no longer contain herself — she squealed and began to run.

‘And Gala, lovely Gala,’ said Greg. ‘Gala, would you play my Balalaika?’ He handed her the imaginary instrument, motioning for her to strum — all whilst chasing Seraphine.

‘Careful,’ I said, conscious of my buildings on the window sill.

‘Ooh, look what we’ve got here. You’ve been busy, giving yourself lead poisoning.’

‘Is glass poisonous, Daddy?’

‘Of course not, Gala. Not when it’s solid.’

‘Nice,’ said Greg, bending down to pick up the observatory. ‘Whoa, these are pretty freaky-deeky, Rudy. Moving away from modernism. They look quite surreal. Where’s the uptight Rudy we know and love?’

‘I’m not uptight; I believe in craft. Not all of us can get a $50,000 grant to dump a load of trash in a room.’

‘The non-believer. If you hate my art, why don’t you just say it?’

‘I don’t hate your art. It’s interesting — it challenges me, it forces me to consider what art is, and how I respond to detritus. I just have a particular love of beauty.’

‘But there is beauty in the crumbling concrete of the world, Rudy. You’ve just got to know how to recognise it. Imagine your little glass buildings nestled in a rubbish dump — they’d seem like diamonds. You’d have to go mining to find them. We could have a joint show. I’m serious.’

‘I think I’ll leave the trash to you, Greg. And the muttonbirds — how the hell do you cook those?’

‘Hirini says you should boil the shit out of them, and throw in a bit of puha.’

‘You know where the pots are. Be my guest.’

‘Hey, that’s not on, inviting someone for dinner and then making them cook.’

‘If I recall correctly, Greg, you invited yourself.’

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