Cicada by Witi Ihimaera It was Saturday morning and Kararaina had nothing to do. She'd made her bed, helped do the dishes, gone down to the shop to get Pare a packet of smokes, and was now sitting at the window watching the traffic stream up and down the road. At the back of the flat, she could hear Pare doing the washing, the washing machine going ‘shuck shuck shuck’ and Pare swearing occasionally because she hated washing clothes. Henare had gone to the T.A.B. It was only Kararaina and Pare who were home. Pare was Kararaina's eldest sister, and Kararaina had come to stay with her and her husband Henare because Mum and Dad had gone shearing in the South Island. She'd been with them now, over a week. Already, she was feeling homesick. She'd been excited at first, coming to Wellington on the plane, and the air hostess had given her a lolly to suck. It had still been the holidays, and Pare had taken her to the zoo, into Wellington to look at the shops, and even to the late pictures at the Ascot. But the pictures had been scary — about a man who changed into a wolf, and about another man who bit people in the neck — and Kararaina had cried all the way home. Henare had teased her too, until Pare had told him to stop. Then school had started and the excitement of being in a big city had worn off. Both Henare and Pare were working now too, and although they tried to make Kararaina feel at home, the flat was too quiet to be a home. Kararaina missed the bickering and shouting of home back at Te Karaka. She also missed her brother, Rangi, who was a year younger than she was. He was seven; she was eight. When she had nothing to do, she could always play with Rangi. She had nothing to do now; but Rangi was a long way away. She gazed longingly out the window and wished that Rangi was with her. Then from somewhere, she heard children laughing. Eagerly, Kararaina craned her head and saw three little girls race out of the house opposite her onto the pavement. One of them bent on the ground and began making squares with a piece of chalk. Another had a tennis ball, and was bouncing it up and down. “Hurry up! Hurry up!” the third girl yelled. Kararaina knew that girl, but not very well. Her name was Denise something-or-other, and she was at Newtown School too. She watched them eagerly and wondered whether they would let her join them if she went down. She didn't think they would, because on her first day at school she'd asked if she could play Four Square with them, but they'd told her to go away. Still, there were only three of them down there. Maybe they would let her join them this time. Should she go down now? No, she would wait. She didn't want to be hurt again. This time, she'd make sure first. “Kara! Kara!” She heard Pare calling to her. “Yes?” she yelled back. “Come here a minute, ay?” Pare asked. “Okay,” she answered. She leapt down from the window and ran down the corridor to the bathroom where Pare was rinsing out the clothes. “Be a good mate and help hang the clothes out, ay?” Pare asked. “All right,” Kararaina answered. “And this afternoon, you can go to the