Bloke, page 19
‘I’ll fix that chimney tomorrow, Aunt.’
‘Gotta start somewhere.’
I did another stint on the willows with Darce and came back flogged. It had been a week of high-thirty temperatures, forty some days. Everything hurt. Scratches from the willows were raised and inflamed. My whole body seemed to have been stung or lacerated. I slumped in a chair on the verandah, thinking of nothing. And everything. I was holding Codger while Retha squeezed worming medicine in his mouth. She was wearing an old flannelette shirt, older and uglier clothes every day.
A car turned into Mill Lane. I looked up. I knew that car.
‘Who’s that comin, Retha?’ Aunty Cookup called.
‘Dunno.’ She looked at me, saw my face.
‘Bible bashers? Welfare?’ the old lady continued to call, her head in the linen press, wrestling towels and sheets. ‘Who’s comin, Retha, I’ve got me bloody hands full.’
‘A friend of Jim’s, I think.’ Retha called, picking up the puppy and going inside.
The visitor stepped out of the car and I saw her beauty straight away, her taut stride sprung by edginess, anxiety. I was swamped with shame. She saw me but didn’t rush forward. We stared at each other. Finally she opened the wire gate and I stepped off the verandah to meet her.
‘Giovanna.’
‘Jim.’
I put my arms around her. We were both as stiff as boards.
‘How did you find me?’
‘The black grapevine.’
‘I didn’t know what was going on. They moved me from house to house.’
‘So he said.’
‘No one told me anything.’
‘You got my letter … about what Madeleine said?’
‘Yes.’
‘I thought you might have rung.’
‘I wasn’t sure where you were.’
‘It was in the letter. I just assumed you were still blaming me for the Baras business.’ She looked up at the house, as reluctant as I was to talk about this in front of others.
‘I wasn’t sure about —’
‘Which means you doubt me.’
‘No, it’s just —’
‘No justs, Jim, you either believe me or you don’t.’ There was obviously plenty more she wanted to say. Me too. She looked toward the house again when she heard voices within. She held a finger to her lips. Later, she indicated. I couldn’t wait.
‘It looks like there’ll be an inquiry, so we thought it’d be safe for you to come home.’ She spoke the word ‘home’ with a slight hesitation. ‘So … how have you been?’ she added, trying to make it sound normal, but the words came on the back of a sigh of frustration, or annoyance, I couldn’t tell.
‘Bored, mainly. How about you?’ I replied, like her struggling to make it sound like no time had passed since the pillows in La Paz, like no steel doors had been closed between us, like my entry into her life had been just one rollicking good time.
‘Well … it’s been strange not knowing what was going on. What you …’
‘Unca Jimmy, Unca Jimmy.’ Lilly burst through the doorway. ‘Codger’s had medicine. Pink.’
Retha came to the door to call Lilly back and I saw Giovanna’s eyes move over her, assessing, woman to woman. When she looked back at me her face was dark with question.
‘Come inside,’ I said. ‘Meet Aunty Gladys and Retha.’
‘Only white people call me Gladys.’
‘Giovanna, this is Aunty Cookup and Retha and … Lilly.’
‘Pleased to meecha,’ the old woman said. Retha nodded.
‘Want to go for a swim in the river?’ Lilly asked. ‘Codger’s been wormied.’
After a bit of desultory small talk Giovanna and I found ourselves alone on the verandah with cups of tea. The others made themselves scarce. We drank our tea, angling in dark waters for the right words.
‘Perhaps a swim in the river would be good,’ she said. ‘It’s getting hot.’
‘It’s a bit snaky down there. Not much shade.’ They weren’t the right words. ‘Maybe I should come home, if you reckon it’s safe.’
‘Home?’
‘Well, to get out of here. Hiding. I’m sick of it.’ She looked at me steadily.
‘Who’s Retha?’
‘Aunt’s niece.’
‘She’s very pretty.’
‘She’s studying law – or will when Lilly’s grown up.’
‘How long have you been here?’
‘Month or so. I’ve been cutting willows with Darce most of the time.’
‘So they said.’
‘They?’
‘Never knew there were so many blackfellas. Pop up everywhere. They’ve all been helping us keep you safe. And then find you.’
I hadn’t even thanked her. ‘Look, Giovanna, I’m sorry. I don’t even know what you had to do to arrange bail, but once I left prison it was like living in another world, another century even. I should thank you but I don’t know what’s happened. Since I’ve —’
‘I’m boiling.’ She looked down the lane. ‘That’d be the river down there. Come on, have a swim. We’ve always been better at that than talking.’
We walked in Indian file down the narrow stubble path to the river. She stood on the bank, looking across at the rock wall. In the purple shade of the lilly pilly.
‘Can’t see too many snakes.’
I put my arm around her waist. ‘I’ve missed you but we’re —’
‘It’s been a long time,’ she replied, still staring at the rock wall. ‘And we’d only known each other a little while.’ She turned back to look at me.
‘So?’ I asked.
‘So, it’s natural … that we’d be … cool.’
‘A bit awkward, that’s all.’
‘Is that all, Jim? I didn’t like you suggesting I was using you to get back at Baras.’
‘I never said that.’
‘But you thought it.’
‘I just wondered why you hadn’t mentioned that he’d done your old man. It was important that I know that.’
‘Maybe I don’t want to even think of him if I don’t have to.’
‘But because you said nothing I thought —’
‘Jim, do you know how many men I’ve known? Do you know what it took for me to even look at another man after Baras?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Well, I think that’s too easy. We haven’t got time to talk about all that needs to be said about that. I don’t lie, Jim, I don’t play games.’
‘I —’
‘Tell me now if there’s something else. That girl.’
‘No. I’m just staying here, that’s all. It’s where Munt brought me. They’re part of the family.’
‘Your family?’
‘So everybody tells me.’ I could hear Lilly crying up at the house. I guessed it was her, never having heard her cry before. ‘She’ll be pissed off because we went swimming without her.’
‘So you come here swimming?’
‘When I’m not at work.’
‘You said it was snaky, no shade.’
‘It’s hotter today, I thought —’
‘It’s beautiful. You came here with her.’
‘Lilly, yes.’
‘And her, the woman, Cathy Freeman.’
I smiled. ‘She doesn’t look anything like Cathy Freeman.’
‘No, she’s got tits. She’s gorgeous. And you swam with her.’
‘She’s family. We —’
‘Fell in love.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘It’s not ridiculous, she’s …’ She turned away, covering her anger. ‘I’m not going to stay, if that’s what it is. Waiting all these —’
‘That’s not it. Of course she’s pretty, but there’s nothing. It wasn’t my choice to come here. You and the black musketeers had more to do with it than me.’
‘It’s a mess.’
‘Come on, get in the water. You said that’s what we’re best at.’
Even in the shade the heat was palpable. Like a drum skin tightening across your forehead. We walked into the cool water, slipping and tottering on the wet stones. Better immediately, seeing her shoulders, the little hairs on her arms stand up, startled by the cold. She was wearing a burgundy bra and pants. I was ashamed of myself. How could I even think of it, dream of it. But that’s what a man does. Some men. All cock and blindness.
The water was a blessing and we swam across to the cool dark bluff of stone. She brushed her hand over the maidenhair fronds. I swam to her, stood behind her, slipped my arm low about her waist, pressed —
‘Unca Jimmy, Unca Jimmy, I want a swim.’
Aunty had brought the fractious little girl to the river to shut her up. ‘She stacked on a turn, I had to bring her.’ The old lady slumped with her back to the lilly pilly. ‘In all this heat,’ she groaned.
I swam to the beach and the little girl climbed on my back. I breaststroked back to Giovanna and the ferns. Lilly waved her arms about and dunked her face in the river, gasping and splashing water everywhere.
‘I’m swimming, I’m swimming,’ she gasped, desperately squeezing water out of her eyes. She looked at Giovanna. ‘This is my Unca Jimmy and I’m the Princess of the Lilies. He said so.’
Giovanna smiled and she was very beautiful. I kissed her lips. Lilly was delighted, in the confused and triumphant way of little girls coming to an understanding of their power.
‘Touch the wall, touch the wall,’ she cried. I floated her in so she could press her hand to the cool rock. ‘I’m going to kiss the rock.’ After a glancing smack of the lips against the stone she turned to look at Giovanna. See? that look seemed to say.
‘He doesn’t kiss Mummy, she won’t let him.’
The ruckle of water flowing over the stones sounded menace in the silence like a rumble of kettledrums.
‘You talk a lot of rot, Lilly,’ Aunty Cookup admonished.
Giovanna raised an eyebrow.
‘I’m the princess,’ Lilly trilled.
‘You’re a magpie,’ I said.
Lilly climbed into my hands and I cabered her over my head, anything to shut her up. She crashed into the water with a melodramatic splash.
She rose gasping, ‘And I can dibe too.’ Spluttering and splashing while she screwed at her eyes.
‘You’re good at this,’ Giovanna said to me.
‘I know,’ Lilly boasted, ‘I can swim and dibe.’
Giovanna laughed at the little girl’s ego. ‘Well, that’s very clever. Even for a princess.’
Lilly considered her, wondering, then she dived out of my arms and made a hectic flurry in the water. I hauled her out by the back of her shorts.
‘See. See how far I went,’ she spluttered and screwed at her eyes again.
‘Jimmy, watch the little clown,’ Aunty called, possessed of the ability to sleep with a hat over her face and yet see everything.
‘Lilly, you’re very brave and very strong but you mustn’t try swimming without someone here, just in case.’
‘In case what?’
‘In case you get tired, or get cramps or something.’
‘I don’t get cramps.’
I turned her face toward me. ‘Listen, Lilly, even princesses can drown until they get bigger and learn to swim properly.’
‘I can swim properly.’
‘No you can’t, you’re still learning. So don’t swim on your own until you’re … eight.’
‘Eight! That’s weeks away.’
‘Just promise me, Lilly, that’s all, we can’t afford to lose you.’
‘All right, but you’ll always be here anyway.’
‘Not always. I’m going away for a while, with Giovanna.’
Giovanna turned away and I couldn’t read the language of her shoulders.
‘But you’ll come back,’ Lilly insisted.
‘Yes, of course, and you can come and see me.’
‘I’ve got a house by the river too,’ Giovanna assured.
I looked at her. ‘Have you?’
‘Uncle Marco’s got a place up the river, said I could have it until I got somewhere else. Got a dog too.’
‘I’ve got a dog. Codger’s my dog. He’s been wormied and he’s got pink guts.’
‘Belly,’ I corrected, ‘but what sort of dog have you got?’ I asked Giovanna as we climbed out of the river. I took the towel from Aunty Cookup and draped it round the little girl’s convulsive shoulders. ‘See, that’s another reason why you can’t swim on your own. You’re still little and you get too cold.’
‘That’s right,’ Aunty Cookup added while the little girl, bundled in her towel, pressed the cloth to her face while she concentrated on controlling the shivers. She looked as if she was trying to think of the perfect rejoinder, but her little body was defying her. She crept onto Aunt’s lap and the old woman swaddled her closer and never even mentioned the discomfort of having a little wet bum on her thighs.
‘So, what sort of dog is it?’
‘Bit of a heeler. Terrific watch dog. Out on the river there it seemed like a good idea.’
I nodded, understanding why she’d want someone keeping watch.
‘What’s it called?’
‘La Paz,’ she replied without turning to meet my eye. La Paz. But it still didn’t tell me where we stood. What damage I’d done.
Aunt and Lilly dozed, Giovanna stacked river stones, and I tried to work out what kind of man I was. Not black or white. But honest. Was I the man who insisted on telling the truth, or just some randy selfish bastard whose tongue could say love before it had time to mean it?
seventeen
Back at the house, Lilly took the opportunity to demand a story from Giovanna. ‘Once there was a man called Albert Cutts …’ I started to make a cup of tea for something to do and went to see if Aunt and Retha wanted one. Aunt wasn’t on her chair at the back step watching the chooks, not in the lounge either. I stuck my head in the shed and she was sitting on my bed, the photo album in her lap.
‘I’m making a cup of tea. Do you want one?’
She nodded and attempted to rouse herself but only got as far as running a hand over the fake crocodile covering of the album.
‘What about Retha?’
‘She’s gone out for a walk.’ We looked at each other for a few seconds. ‘She acts strong and independent but she’s got her soft spots. You’ve just found one.’
‘But I —’
‘No “but I”, Jim, start takin a bit of responsibility for what ya say. Ya say ya love someone, gooey, gooey, gooey, an’ then —’
‘I never said love.’
‘Not them exact words maybe, but same as. She’s a girl, a woman, words like that stick, she started to depend on them. Despite herself.’
‘What will I do, Aunt?’
‘I dunno. I don’t want to see her, you know, lose her go, her determination … Oh, I don’t know. Maybe just leave.’
‘All right.’ I moved around her, picking up bits of my gear.
‘But you will have to say something to her. One day. So she doesn’t think it was just words, hot air from a dead horse. Unless it was.’
‘Aunt, there’s not a man alive who can’t see she’s beautiful.’
‘She’s not as interested in that as men are.’
‘Women mightn’t like it but that’s how it is. I tried to look away but you can’t, I can’t, it’s just … just how it is.’
‘Goodness, that’s an affliction.’
‘Laugh if you like. I’m trying to be honest.’
‘Ah, the truth, another affliction in the wrong hands.’
‘I can see where Retha gets her law talk from. Anyway, I’m trying to tell you that a man’s first inclination is to look.’
‘Like your dad.’ I was half expecting it so I tried to ignore her, but by Christ it stung. My dad. Who had never stuck around. Aunt’s little whip had rattled me.
‘And … and you … and then you see the sort of person she is, you see how smart, how … good. That’s when … I wouldn’t hurt her for …’
‘She’s like your mother, Jim. Gentle and … and a good blackfella. Wants the best for her people. Like your mum, lookin after all them kids. She … Oh, Jim, it just makes me feel tired, wanting the best for her … everyone.’ She ran her hand across the cover of the album again. ‘All this mob, all our family, Jim, an’ how many of ’em ever got more than scraps from the table and a kick up the bum. An’ then they start thinkin of love, despite themselves …’
‘I’ll make it up to her, Aunt, I’ll —’
‘You can’t, Jim. It’s done. You’ll never fill the hole.’
‘I can, Aunt. I’ll try at least. I’ve been thinking —’
‘Jesus help us. A man thinking.’
Uncle Marco’s house was a clapped-out weatherboard cottage but it had a deep verandah and looked across to the lagoon where a tributary crept out of the jungle into the main river. I sat in an old armchair that had been repaired with a wheat bag, neatly, but it was still a wheat bag. La Paz dozed in my lap. A real little character. A bit like Lilly. Thought he could do anything. Until tiredness hit him and he slept like a stone, belly up, little paddle paws suspended in the air.
I sipped from my teacup and returned my gaze to the pile of documents Giovanna had collected during the Arafura Star affair. We were still stepping about each other like nervous brolgas. We’d never mentioned the kissing. The attempted kissing that Lilly so helpfully revealed. But here we were in her uncle’s house. My kit bag in the bedroom. What now?
She was inside preparing a meal. Our first meal since La Paz. As soon as we arrived she’d sat me down with the groggy pup, made me a cup of tea and put the pile of papers on a fruit box.
‘Read them before tea,’ she said. ‘There’s stuff there you need to know.’
Following the trail through all the departmental papers, newspaper clippings, her own diary notes and letters, I learnt more about the complexity of my problems. And the problem I’d become for her.
‘They’re looking for someone to get the government off the hook. “It wasn’t us, these cowboys imported it.” Find someone to cop it. Better still if he’s a black orphan.’ She raised her eyebrow. What? Orphan or black?
