Earth, page 7
‘Unless of course it was our parliament, our community which recommended a peerage for certain legislative innovations and vision.’
‘His honour, too, has a horse breeder’s mind, I humbly suggest.’
*
‘The smell of new wood, Frank.’
‘Old wood, sawn again, my dear.’
‘It brings joy, Frank.’
‘Not if the roof’s not on before the rains come again.’
‘Did anything more come of the Angliss business?’
‘I’m worried about it, Claudie.’
‘I can see that.’
‘That Captain Hindsmith has been sent up to Sydney, which just leaves McCallum and company, and they won’t admit the evidence of blacks to the court. There’ll be no appeal. I think they’ll get away with it.’
‘Well you’ve done your best, Frank, you can’t – ’
‘I don’t trust them, Claudie. They’re asking sticky questions about all this building material. Angliss seems to have smelt a rat . . . but they’ve offered me . . . or Snodgrass has suddenly offered me the job of building new stables at the Morning Star.’
‘That’s wonderful, Frank. Where were we going to get –’
‘But it’s wrong, Claudie, they’re buying . . . ’
‘Frank, for goodness sake, you’ve got your iron and lumber, you’ve got Betty’s child, you’ll have another soon enough and now you’ve got a better job than we could have ever hoped for.’
‘Pass up that four-be-four will you, Claudie? No, the other one. Thank you, my sailing galleon. But the whole business smells. Moorabool is being blamed for things he never did. Rape, cannibalism . . . can you believe it . . . he’d get blamed if the cat had kittens . . . and he’s probably dead, and there are no witnesses except the murderers, and no one to argue.’
‘So that’s the end of it, Frank. The best thing you can do now is to look after his son. Anything else you do might jeopardise the whole – ’
‘As you say, Claudie, as you say, but standing up here I can see the streets of this town and each one is built on a black man’s blood.’
‘And I’ll be happy if it’s not your blood, Frank.’
‘And so will I, but it doesn’t make me a proud man, and that’s all I ever wanted to be.’
‘I’m proud of you, Frank.’
‘It’s not you I’m worried about, darlin’, because no one else is going to put food into the bellies of your children and a roof over their heads.’
‘Bellies and rooves.’
‘Hearts and souls.’
‘The hearts and souls of those you love, Frank.’
‘I can see the sea out to the east.’
‘And smell it.’
‘And see the Ocean sailing out through the heads . . . probably with that Hindsmith on board.’
‘And what business is that of a midwife and a builder?’
‘Well I’m thinking like a builder, but wishing I could think like a judge.’
‘There are judges and judgements, Frank, and from what I’ve ever seen, they all arrive covered in blood and screaming their heads off and then someone has to feed them.’
‘Off the silver service or the cracked plate.’
‘Start thinking like a judge, Frank, and we’ll never have a roof.’
*
‘This is white fella’s law, see, white fella’s story. Them people look at book before look at people, look at judge before look at land. That’s why you’re with us now, Parnum, no more, no more. Look at their law. You say goim eat grass, sheepy eat grass. Fence go up, chasem off ‘gain, alright now I eat sheepy. They say we put fence, that our land. Put sheepy on the grass. That our sheep. That Parnum eat our sheep we shoot Parnum just like ol’ man goim. See their law is grass and fences, our law is all the land. We’re tellin’ you this, my brother, ‘cause we found it out hard way. You heard about our big fight there? ‘Course you did. All our clansmen there. All. Woiwurrung, all them Kulin people, Bunurong, Wurrundjerri, Kirrae, Japwurrong, Mara people, all people, all around, Kolac mob, oh, many men. Chase away sheep, burn houses, spear shepherds, try and steal brung, get brung, my own brother, my own brother, he steal brung, shoot off hand. How this one work, he say. Oh put ‘im big shot in this one, pull this one, BRUNG, off go ‘is hand. Alright we make brung work now. One, two, three shepherds, chasem hundreds, thousands sheepy, burn ‘is farm, burn this paddock, that house, take flour, alright you say wrong thing, but where we get myrniong now, eh? Sheepy eat myrniong, one two year no more myrniong, where we get flour now, eh? Like you, my poor brother, you say goim all gone now, alright I killem sheepy, well their law, that amerjee law he say our sheep, our grass, our fence, blackfella kill sheep, burn grass, knockem down gate, we teachem blackfella. Brung. Where judge that time, eh? That judge not see. No evidence. Blackfella say amerjee shoot us, boss, but judge not there, no evidence, no white evidence. Evidence is white. Law is white. Grass is white. Gate is white. Sheepy white. Brung, no more blackfella. All them Woiwurrung, all them brave Barrabool, that Bunurong mob, Kirrae, all them mob brung, down he go, face in white fella grass. Sorry time, true. Can we stop that, my brother, can we run away from white fella? Nowhere to go, this our land, this our mother, this tree where we born, this water where our baby swim, this our law. Our law say we not allowed, hear that whitefella word, my brother, we not allowed to go, our land call us to stay, who look after land if we go? White fella? White fella look after water, look after hill, look after flower, watch out for Bunjil? Amerjee do that, you reckon? So we stay, gun go brung, now we here and you here too, all of us ol’ fellas watchin’ our land, see river go dry, tree fall down, kangaroo die, lake go green, that’s all we see from up here, my brother and it’s sorry true.’
‘Eh, Parnum, look ‘ere, Billy Wurrun, he your uncle, eh, all us ol’ fellas, eh, all us ol’ peoples, what we dream now, eh? Sss, now, look, ‘ere come that ol’ Kaarwirn Kunawarn, oh, he ran ‘em round and round that one, hero one, true, ‘ere go spear, ‘ere go liangal, ol’ Kaarwirn Kunawarn disappear, phoof, gone, back into rock country, back into that Pomborneit, oh, long time he look after land, long time.
‘Ye, ye, my brothers, long time fight, long time angry that ol’ Kaarwirn Kunawarn. Hissing Swan true name, eh. Fight, him an’ me, all our brother, fight, and what I see now you reckon, I see time before, look ‘ere now, look down there, see how river go windin’ through the hills, tired now, lie down on flat country and ah, rest, dreamin’ into the sea. What we got there now, eh? Oh, look, see there, one little shack on edge of lake, we had house there too, eh. How many? Twenty houses, thirty? Old time, now, only one house, that fella out in boat, drawin’ net, right where we pull the net. People same, eh. Man got guli, woman got bud, why one man kill ‘nother man, eh? Takim land? Put up fence? Whitefella law, my brothers. Westminster system. Bible system. All same long us people. All mean brung, eh.
‘Ah, well, all we got now is dreamin’. Dreamin’ up the country, dreamin’ up the river, kangaroo, fish, only way we look after land now is to speak for her, say name of our country, sing song of country. Can’t drink the water, can’t eat goim, can’t taste the sea, see the sun, all gone now us fellas, have to dream instead, eh. Whisper to the country, breathe the names into her, warm her with our air. Listen, my brothers, my sisters, my ol’ uncles and aunties, I whisper this to you now, the secrets of our country.
‘Bunjil, ‘e fly, all over da ‘e fly, see ‘is shadow now, look ‘e goes now, over bura bura, over yalook, windin’, windin’ down to ol’ warri, oh my warri, oh my korraiyn, look, all our little burron, all our murdimundik, what they catch now, eh, look in their binyak now, wiidji, kooderoo, kuwiyn, warrener, kawarren, wordel, bar wor, oh, plenny tucker us fellas, cookin’ up in minne, oh kudja, kudja, plenny tucker us blackfellas, bye an’ bye nyipma, curl up there kaarming karl bobam, murdimundik, guli man, plenny warm walart walart, kumba, kumba my people, kumba, kumba, til ol’ mirri come again, pilk puriyn, we breathe ‘is name to you, mirri mirri, make sure ‘e come again for you fellas. Pilk puriyn, pilk puriyn, we breathe ol’ mirri’s name to your ear, warm ol’ Da, warm all our peoples, keep ‘im safe, our earth, our ol’ Da.
‘Those amerjee, they doan know this country. Country doan know them. They walkin’ roun on it like stranger. Tryin’ to boss the earth. Tryin’ be boss you know? An’ already they forgot how it was before them ships come. Suits ‘em that way too. Suits ‘em down to the ground to forget what it like. But we remember country. That river there, that one Barwarn, alright. Down she come over them plains into big duck swamp, big place boonea, big place tolum, then here she comes windin’ all over place an’ out to korraiyn. Now, see that liddle bit grass there, forget them sheepies, forget white fella house, forget them fence, look back now an’ see all them waurn made a’ stone an’ bark an’ blocks a’ earth, see them cookin’ oven, oh we cook up good there, tolum, goim, barrabool, moorabool, kooderoo, wiidji, plenny warrigal, myrniong, plenny johnny cake, plenny fat baby playin’ by river, chuckin’ liddle spear, chasin’ kaaarming kaal, nice place you reckon, lookit them fella now, comin’ back home with nice fat goim, coupla them porcupine, look at women basket, full, full crayfish, abalone, mussel, oyster, an’ here look, these young fella, what they got? Six fat black duck, basket eels, oh what you reckon ‘bout this place? Plenny good I tell ya, an’ look there, ol’ fella makin’ axe, young fella smokin’ bark for canoe . . . can you see it? You whitefella too, can you see, we was just like you. Jus’ wanted tucker an’ nice place for all our peoples, place where we can teach liddle bobup respect ol’ Da, respect earth. You got you God alright, but you know what that Godfella read from book? You know what he read to us? He read “an’ all his people have dominion over field an’ fowl an’ fishes.” What that dominion? That boss one. That be boss over everythin’. An’ that where we not like you mob. Me an’ my spirit brother an’ sister we not like you. Alright you kill us proper, you win war, you knock down our house, take our kids, fence our Da, shit in river, but we know you not boss of God, coz God not us, God is Da. It our mother. Da make us. How we put fence roun’ Da? How we shit in river? Why you do that? All your kunang in river, all your rubbish, all your cow kunang too.
‘No respect, no love, that what wrong with you mob. You gotta be boss, hate anythin’ tell you what to do. But us peoples we listen to Da, we listen to river, we listen to hill, we waitin’ for earth to tell us what we eat, where we cook our food, where we have baby. Alright you say you boss now, you say you got Ol’ Earth tie down with wire, but that fight be ugly one true. Look, already there, shit in river, empty swamp, rubbish, but you wait, Da she have her say alright, she not be boss by liddle smart arse with bible, she turn her back one day an’ let you mob die. Might be long time, but you wait. Alright you laugh at ol’ blackfella, but you wait, your liddle time nothin’, Earth she not watch out you, turn her back, let river stop, let soil blow away, let all fish die . . . what you mob eat then? No good us peoples, no good any peoples. But you mob laugh, piss yourself laughin’ at what we say ‘bout this place . . . but mebe too late anyway, look at our peoples now, forget name for river, forget name for Earth, forget how to show respect. It hurt us fella true, but what we do, give up or fight dead fella fight? What you reckon? That why we lookout our people, hopin’ they remember their manners, hopin’ they show respect to Da. We whisper ‘em. That all we got, spirit breath.’
4
Holes in heaven
‘The seventh day, eh Alfie, and God rested. We’ve got our roof on and the windows in so we’ll rest. If paintin’ an’ old boat is restin’. Now get out of that paint tin, Alf. Bit early for that. See all this loose stuff? Gotta get that off first. You sit down here with young Augustus an’ keep ‘im out of the sun while I clean up the hull a bit.’
‘Augustus isn’t his name, Grandpa. That ol’ lady, the one who cleans in the hotel, she says his name is – ’
‘Mary, good lookin’ girl, that the one?’
‘Yeah, she saw me in the yard an she said, “That Betty’s baby?”, I said “Yes”, and she said, “What you call him?” and I said, “Augustus, Gus,” and she said “Woorer, Woorer, that’s his real name.” What’s that mean, Grandpa, Woorer, Woorer?’
‘Sky, I think, or clouds, Agnes told me he was named after something like that. Sky, Sky, yeah that’s what she said, Sky. But I don’t want anything to do with it, I’ve got enough trouble just lookin’ after him, just keepin’ the church’s hands out of his cradle. Sky, that’d really make your grandmother’s face tighten up.’
‘Well, look at him, Grandpa, look at him now, that’s what he’s lookin’ at, lookin’ up at the sky.’
‘All babies look at the sky. Ya lay on ya back all day, what else is there to look at?’
‘He looks to me as if he’s lookin’ at the sky. I’m gunna call him Woorer Woorer.’
‘Not around Grandma you’re not.’
‘No, but I’ll call him Woorer Woorer in my head, like I call you Parwung, specially at night and I like my name too, Golkawil – better than Alf.’
‘In ya head, then, safe in ya head. There’s a lot of things we’ve gotta keep safe in our heads, more an’ more things we’ve gotta keep secret, even from Grandma. And she’s right too, ya know, Alf, she said it’d only cause us trouble and it has. The coppers and the church and the beaks are right on to us now. They question me about every stick of timber, make me crawl because of that buildin’ job, hound Claudie about any baby that dies, come snoopin’ about pokin’ their noses into our rooms, rubbin’ their fingers on our shelves an’ sniffin’ as if the house is infected or somethin’, they’re on to us, Alf, an’ it’s because of who we are. They hate us for it, they hate us for standin’ up to ‘em. If we’d just copped it, if Wurrun had never told ‘em who I was, none of this would have happened. Don’t look at me like that, I saw you, I know what you’re thinkin’, I’m not denyin’ who I am, but can’t ya see it’d be easier if no one knew? You know that. You know why they stole your marbles at school, don’t ya? Not because they wanted marbles, but because of what their mums an’ dads talk about over the dinner table. We’re marked, Alfie, we’re – ’
‘I’m proud, Grandpa.’
‘I know you are, my boy, that’s why I taught you to fight . . . because you’ll have to, I’m afraid. They won’t miss a chance, any chance they get. An’ like I was sayin’, when ya go down, if ya go down – ’
‘Cover up me guts.’
‘An’ ya head. Like this. Head an’ guts.’
‘But I’m faster, Grandpa, no one can catch me.’
‘Life ain’t the school sports, Alfie, they’ll wait their time. They’ll wait until you’re on your own.’
*
‘Doan hurt me, mister.’
‘I’m not gunna hurt ya, girlie, not gunna hurt ya at all. Tell us ya name. You can tell ol’ Eric.’
‘Doan hurt me, mister. Betty, mister, I work Mr Snodgrass.’
‘Do ya now. Well, Betty, Eric’s gunna give ya a little present. Eric’s not gunna hurt the little boong bitch, the little black slut with her bottle, is he?’
‘Doan hurt me, mister, please.’
‘What would you know about hurt, slut, ya too pissed ta stand up. Here, I’ll help ya.’
‘Doan hurt, mister.’
‘This won’t hurt a bit. Here.’
‘Ahh, doan hurt – ’
‘Take this ya black slut.’
‘Eh, what you doin’ out here, Eric Pearson?’
‘What’s it fuckin’ look like?’
‘Who’s that you got there?’
‘Who cares.’
‘A gin, ya fuckin’ gin jockey are ya?’
‘Bag over their head, what’s the difference?’
‘Thought you liked sheep.’
‘You can be a smart-arse if ya like, Snodgrass, but I hear ya partial to a bit of black velvet yaself. Maybe this one, eh.’
‘Doan let ‘im hurt me, Mr Snodgrass.’
‘I won’t let him hurt you, Betty. Here, let me help you.’
*
‘He’s woke up, Grandpa an’ he’s still lookin’ at the sky. He’s Woorer Woorer all right.’
‘Well, give that little sky baby to me now. I’ve stirred that red lead and you can put the first coat on ol’ Tuppeny Bark. Do the honours.’
‘Thanks, Grandpa. How long before we’ve finished do ya reckon?’
‘Another three Sundays should do it, Alf, and then it’s off to the high seas to seek our fortune.’
‘Will we make a fortune?’
‘Well, we’ll make enough. Enough. An amount which you will never see calculated in a school book, a church service or a parliament house. The amount which it takes to fill bellies and keep heads dry. Just enough.’
‘And when we’ve got a bit more we can buy a horse and cart.’
‘Take more than a bit more to buy a horse and cart, and before that’ll happen they’ll take the bit more off us.’
‘Who?’
‘Them, young Alfie, them. Them who have a lot more than enough already. Ya know, he does look at the sky, doesn’t he? Wave his little hands up at it. Well, little Woorer Woorer, when ya old enough we’ll tell ya about the sky, an’ about ya mum, an’ about enough . . . but it’ll be private like: a talk just between you an’ me an’ ya cousin over there, young Alfie, that fella there, see ‘im, see what a good job he’s doin’ on ol’ Tuppenny Bark. He’s a good lad that one, he’s a fighter, a clean fighter I hope, a fighter for the right way of doin’ things.’
‘I am, Grandpa.’
‘I know you are, Alfie, you’re a good boy and you’ll never be any different. You watch your cousin, now, Augustus Woorer Woorer, you grow up like him, strong, proud and honest and you’ll never have to be a politician, preacher or publican. Ya might have to be a poet but then you’ll be as poor as ya Grandpa and won’t be able to look down on us. Although both you fellas’ll be lookin’ down on us all the time, this one sky fella, an’ that one hawk.’
