Valley Road to Headwall

With Daan driving and a Hundeerwagon full of boys all pumped from their flights, they were looking forward to getting back to Headwall where the promise of a full Harvest Dinner awaited.

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Autumn — Headwall Station: Year Two

A full year had now flown by since twelve frightened and traumatised boys from a collapsed, hostile Earth, walked down the ramp of a Hundeerde shuttle into a new world and a new life. Twelve boys taken into a Hunde family and who were shown complete and unconditional love, acceptance and belonging. Each one, on a unique journey, carrying their own personal loss and grief.

Notebook. Telescope. Necklace. Cooking. Engineering. Gardening. Sewing.

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Morning — Workshop

Raven continued to work on his coffee table, and was now well underway making the legs, from large blocks of wood. Marta had shown him on the first leg, how to chisel out and make the holes for the mortise joints — and then left him to it. Marta was not one to hover; she was available if needed. The second and third leg had gone well and he was feeling confident. With a steady tap of the mallet, the pile of wood shavings on the bench grew, filling the workshop with the scent of freshly cut wood. The workshop was the place where he felt happy and most himself.

Raven was carefully chiselling out the last mortise joint on the fourth leg. A large chunk of wood was still stuck stubbornly in the bottom of the joint and he put his fingers down to try and free it, using the chisel with his other hand to try and pry it out. Without warning the chunk of wood came free, the chisel slipped, and it sliced cleanly across the palm of his hand.

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As the summer weeks passed Raven continued to work on his parquetry coffee table, gluing and clamping rectangular blocks of wood together on his workbench. Each piece was carefully placed, light against dark — the pattern appearing as he progressed. Meanwhile over at the waterwheel the tumbler continued to turn, polishing Raven’s latest batch of stones. They would soon be ready and he eagerly awaited the result.

On Wednesday afternoons and weekends both Raven and Seb found themselves at the Veldmeer Airfield, enthusiastically helping out with whatever was needed. Helping to move gliders out on to the apron ready for flying, running wing tips for the pilots, retrieving the winch rope, and asking questions, lots of questions. Both the boys were firmly hooked, there was just something about these sleek, quiet flying machines that ignited something in each of them. A desire to fly or at least be near things that flew. For the first few weeks they simply continued turning up and helping in any way they could. They even managed to score one or two more flights with other pilots who wanted to increase their hours in the twin. One Wednesday afternoon Daan casually came over and found the boys washing down a glider and drying it off with a chamois.

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Summer — Headwall Station

Samson stood, just looking, at the slowly turning shaft of the waterwheel, taking in the finished work with quiet satisfaction. The leaks had stopped and the newly installed bearing meant the shaft was no longer moving up and down as it turned. It had been a big job, and he had certainly needed to ask for help with the heavier tasks, but he had done it. The satisfaction was not his alone. Marta and Daan had been quietly impressed by Samson’s ability to plan and direct the whole project.

With Samson’s repair of the waterwheel bearing complete, Raven had been able to put his next batch of stones through the tumbler and he planned to make these into a bracelet, each stone representing one of his new friends at school. He also made a start on the coffee table, and with Toby’s help on the weekends, it slowly started to take shape. The top was made from different woods, light and dark, glued and clamped into a parquetry pattern — each piece distinct.

Harry’s kitchen garden was in full swing, and he spent most days out tending, watering, weeding and then harvesting the crops. With so many people to feed, Grandma Bella had been genuinely grateful for his help and expertise.

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Last Day of Term — Start of Summer: Year 2

The classroom had that particular quality of a room that can’t quite sit still. A warm breeze wafted through the open window bringing with it all the smells of summer. The final bell of the school year couldn’t come soon enough. Timo was already practically vibrating his chair clear across the floor.

Miss Vera was handing out the final results for the year. She paused at Lewis’ desk, handed him his result sheet and smiled.

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