Jack, page 11
to take their place.’
Morishita is sobbing quietly
over near the mast.
The sunset has turned it on,
all purples and pinks and
the last sullen flash
of yellow.
I stand still for a moment,
hold the Good Book to my chest.
‘When the Lord said unto Cain
“Where is Abel, thy brother,”
Cain replied, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
I your Captain say
insomuch
as we are all men
we are all
our brother’s keepers,
and in this role
we must admit
we have failed to tend
Takemoto properly.’
The pun was not really intended,
but Morishita lets out an anguished bellow
they can probably hear
in New Caledonia.
It’s hard not to be distracted,
and I frown.
A bit of decorum’s what’s called for here.
‘And so we commit the body
of Takemoto lzabura to the sea,
hoping Lord, that his errors
in judgement,’
—I glance at Morishita—
’and his stubborn refusal
to follow the staging
guidelines,
might serve as a lesson
for us all.’
I’d planned to have the tender
toss him over the side,
to show my cultural sensitivity,
but he’s a blithering mess
so I tum to Georgie and Sandy.
‘Lift him, boys. Commend his body
to the water, as we all commend
our souls to the everlasting care
of the Lord, Amen.’
The straggly Amens that follow
are an embarrassment.
They’ve wrapped him well enough
but don’t raise him evenly.
Georgie’s foot gets caught
in the anchor rope
and he almost goes
bum over tit,
then he rights himself.
Takemoto sags in the middle
but is finally straightened out
into a more dignified position.
I t’s a relief
finally
to hear that weighty splash.
I Let Georgie Have His Say
‘It wasn’t bends.
It was that airline
he tell you to fix,
it bust underwater!’
I don’t take him seriously.
He’s in shock,
his eyes are febrile,
limbs twitching.
my tone is sympathetic.
‘It busted underwater, dear boy,
because he came up too quickly,
ignoring the staging guidelines.
The pressure on that line
was just too great.’
The senseless waste of a good man
overcomes me
and I wipe my eyes
with a piece of rag.
An image slinks in—
Takemoto’s head
when we prized off the helmet.
His face wasn’t purple then,
it was liver-red
like a hunk of brawn
that had been swollen
then compressed
all the bits not pushed in
firmly enough.
‘Look,’ I say,
‘this is upsetting for all of us.’
I put my hand on his arm
and he shakes me off violently.
‘Takemoto was a fatalist.
All those Japs are.
Remember what he used to say?
If it’s my day to die, I die.
We wouldn’t really be honouring
his memory
if we didn’t take
that message on board.’
I look out to sea.
‘It hardly matters how
these things happen, Georgie.
When your time’s up
it’s up.’
Trouble in Paradise
‘You kirr him,
you kirr him.’
Spare me
from hysterical Japs.
Morishita’s been drinking
since lunchtime
and someone’s
been stirring him up.
Now he’s heading for me
with a tomahawk
in his right hand
and murder in both
bleary eyes.
He hasn’t got a good grip
on the weapon
and I’m twice his size.
I grab his arm
before the blade falls
and bring my other fist around.
It only takes one punch
but I treat myself
to another one,
then look around for help.
‘Sandy, come and get him.
Tie him to the mast
till he sobers up.
Let’s see what his mood is
in the morning.’
I scan the deck with slow deliberation.
‘Georgie,’ I yell,
‘come out of your bolthole,
you fucking little
Fletcher Christian.’
It’s the Little Things
I hook my big demons
one at a time,
drag them kicking and screaming
to the surface.
What I can’t get at
are those bottom feeders.
Their lungs are pressured
for incredible depths
in my head.
They creep under
the sea-bed sludge
stirring things up,
eating their own shit
then spitting it out
over and over,
resisting anything
that will make me clean.
Takemoto Pays a Visit
I’ve promoted Bing Tang
to second diver,
and I’m acting as his tender.
This morning
he’s only been down
ten minutes
when he signals to be
hauled up.
I drag him on board
then take off his helmet.
His face is white.
‘What’s the matter with you?’
I give him a shake
and listen to his
tapdancing teeth.
‘Take … eee … moto
fl-floating next to patch
of sh-shell. Skin … peel off.’
‘Well, well,
good old Takemoto, eh!
Got sick of wearing his sugar bag, did he?’
‘Please Boss … ‘
‘I used to dive salvage
off the WA coast.
You know how many people die
in shipwrecks, boy?
I’ve seen ghosts more times
than you’ve hung your willy
over the side of this lugger.
The main thing is
you got to let them know
who’s boss.’
I start pulling on my suit.
‘Get my boots.’
‘No, no … ‘
‘No?
What do you think,
that I’ll get his dander up?
That he’ll come and visit you at night
with his eyes eaten out?’
He’s shuddering as I reach for my gloves.
‘Near some shell, was he?
Well then,
I’d better go down and have a chat with him.
That’s our patch.
He can’t just help himself.
Bloody Japs.’ I shake my head.
‘They’re greedy
even when they’re dead.’
‘I didn’t see nothin
nothin … nothin.’
‘Is that so?’
I shade my eyes and inspect the sky.
Clouds are moving in,
looks like we’ll get an afternoon storm.
‘Well, that puts a different slant on things.’
I slap his face with a glove,
once,
twice.
‘Stop wasting my time.
Get back down there
and clear that patch of shell!’
Out of a Copper Sky
A whiff of metal in the air.
I see her
just as the sun’s going down.
She’s sailing towards me.
Her skin’s as white as her dress.
‘I’ve missed you,’ I whisper
then think better
of appearing too eager.
I lick my crusted lips,
smooth down my hair,
then pick up the lantern
I’ve been polishing.
Nonchalantly, I start rubbing
in slow, full circles,
then sing
to no-one in particular,
A pretty girl is like
a melody.
Tying a Decent Knot
The dog kept running away
while I was at sea
so I taught her
how to tie a bowline.
It’s the king of knots.
It makes the strongest loop,
never
slips or jams.
At the end of the day
no-one could blame me
for all that mess.
All I did was show her
how to tie
a decent knot
then, as the saying goes,
gave her
just enough rope.
I Found Her in Her White Dress
White for honesty, Rose.
Even in your final moments,
in that honest white dress,
you didn’t confess.
The note
just read
I can’t stand
your possessiveness
any more.
Not a word about your guilt,
not a word about
your affair
with Ted.
nyone would think
my suspicions
were groundless.
I Didn’t Feel a Thing
One minute
I’m cleaning shell
the next
I see
the tomahawk slip.
It doesn’t hurt.
Just my heart ricketing
as if I’ve run
onto a railway platform
and just missed a train.
The blood’s roaring in my ears.
I watch the train
pull away.
No smoke,
just a delicate spurt of blood,
and the tiny thing,
half the index finger
of my right hand
lying on the deck.
Ah May’s pale face
hovers over me
like a mast-high moon.
I give him the hand.
He binds the stump tight,
bites the end of the rag
until it tears in two
then ties the frayed edges
in a knoat
Almost straight away
I see
it won’t work
for long
The red’s starting
to bleed through.
As if I’m looking down
the wrong end
of a telescope
I watch Georgie pick up
the bit of my finger
and throw it
overboard.
‘It doesn’t hurt much,’ I say,
my voice coming
from a long way away.
Drunk Again
My heart catches as I turn over
and she’s swaying near the hold.
She’s watching me
through burning eyes.
‘Rosie,’ I implore.
I’ve been on the grog
since this afternoon,
can hardly see straight.
‘Yes,
it me.
Rose.’
A voice comes out of the darkness,
all wrong,
falsetto.
I shake my head.
‘Georgie?’
I feel a slug of spit
slide down my chin,
wipe it off with the palm of my hand.
Rose-Georgie steps out of the darkness,
wearing something white
but not her dress.
Two lava lavas? One for a top?
How can I tell
when I’m seeing double?
The mouth is smeared cannibal-red.
I blink and blink.
‘Rose-Georgie, c’mere,
next to me.’
My mouth is numb,
and my pants are wet.
‘You a bad man, Jack,’
the voice berates me,
that high-pitched
hysterical voice.
‘A very bad man.’
‘Nononotbad,’ I protest, sobbing.
My arms are suddenly
ten years old
and reaching out for my father.
‘Can’t you love me jussalittle bit?’
Rose-Georgie steps back
and I fall to the floor,
an old drunk
soaking in his own piss.
‘No-one ever love you, Boss,’
Georgie says
matter-of-factly,
and I wish I hadn’t asked.
The Morning After
‘Did you come to me last night?
Did you try to fool
Captain Jack?’
Despite the aggressiveness
of my hangover,
I keep my voice
non-threatening.
He looks up at me
with muddy eyes.
‘No, Boss.’
As he’s turning away
I see the hint of a smile.
‘I see.’
I walk with deliberation
to the hold,
open the hatch
make my way
down the steps
careful not to bang my hand,
careful not to jiggle
my sloppy-pumpkin head
on its stem.
What I’m looking for
is easy enough to find.
Back up on deck,
my finger starts throbbing
as if I’ve taken a hammer to it.
Any movement sets it off,
but I have a job to do.
Georgie’s eyes widen
in disbelief
as I start my methodical tearing,
page by page. ‘Nooo!’
His arms reach for the magazines
in myhand,
but I’m taller and stronger.
I hold them beyond his span.
He hugs me
trying to reach them.
To an outsider, it might look
as though we’re dancing
until he starts pummelling
my stomach
and making little wounded noises.
I dry retch
then push him away.
When he falls,
his arm twists awkwardly
under him.
I hear the crack
of a sizeable twig.
All the colour
drains from his face.
He starts to whimper.
It’s elegant
the way those
Movie Mirror pages
drift before they fall
carried by the air’s
lazy currents
to the water
in swishes—
almost oriental.
I think for a peaceful moment
of Takemoto,
and of wood carvings I’ve seen
in threepenny-bit shops
of Japanese cherry trees
shedding their blossoms.
Infection
I can feel it,
the blue-black heat
rising up from
the stump
in hot and thumping
increments.
By tomorrow
it will reach
my heart.
By tomorrow
my blue-black heart
will drown
in its own
hot juices.
The Dream
In the Beginning
they’re the laughing clowns
I saw once
at a carnival in Cairns,
Rose and Ted
turning their heads
towards each other
then turning back to me
so I can see
they’re screaming.
The sound has a texture,
half fish
half bird.
Then they start to fall
from the mast
of a tall ship
with a hole
in its hull
They never hit the water,
the falling
lasts all night.
I’ve Become Invisible
‘All bugger up.’
Ah May’s voice quavers
as he fixes a sling
for Georgie’s arm.
The boy hasn’t spoken a word
since I punished him.
It’s as if he’s been struck
deaf and dumb.
I try to inject some life
into my voice.
‘We’ll go back in just a few days,’
I tell Ah May.
‘I’ll have the shell graded,
you’ll all get paid,
then how about
you and me
try out the one and only
whorehouse on TI?
Give those sheilas something
to remember, eh?’
He looks up, not seeing me,
frowning slightly as if he’s heard
an echo in the distance.
So this is how it happens,
I think,
when everyone
you’ve ever loved
is dead
I wonder
will the wind blow
through me too
now I’ve become a wraith.
To Takemoto
The compressor’s
almost packed it in.
It sounds
like a wheezing old woman
clacking her teeth
in a kerosene tin.
Bing Tang has bought up
the grand total
of one basketful
of shell.
The tucker all tastes bad,
there’s no breeze to shift
