Andrew Dumbrell told us once that Duncan would have go to a boys’ home the next time he did something wrong. I hope he was telling the truth.
“Well, let’s go find out when he’s coming home,” Tom suggested.
Dad walked out of his shed when he heard the back door shut. He tried to sound cheerful to make up for being angry with me earlier. “Well, if it isn’t the Tom and Jenny show.” He always says that when Tom and me are together. If Shortie’s with us, he calls us the three musketeers.
“Can we ring and find out how Shortie is now?” I asked Dad.
Ignoring my question, Dad closed the shed door. “I’d better get back to work,” he said to Mum, whose legs I could see sticking out from under the sheets on the line. He gave us a wave and walked up the driveway.
I heard Mum’s muffled voice from behind the washing. “Mrs O’Connor called before while you were in your room. She said he was doing okay. The police talked to the Dumbrells this morning, but they won’t find out until later if any charges will be laid.”
“Can we go and visit him in the hospital?”
“He’ll be home shortly, you can visit him then.”
Mum said he was in Wallsend Hospital and it was too far to drive just for a quick visit. I couldn’t understand why he had to stay in hospital so long; he’d been there all night. I thought he was just having a check-up. When I asked my parents how come, they said the hospital just wanted to make sure he was okay before sending him home. Mum said he’d be home in plenty of time for my party and told me to stop worrying.
I tried not to worry like she said, but I kept thinking about him anyway. I felt really bad that he got bashed up, it was all my fault. If I’d dobbed on the Dumbrells like Tom and Shortie said I should, this wouldn’t have happened. Dad said I was being silly. He reckons bullies like the Dumbrells pick on anyone who’s smaller than them and if it hadn’t been Shortie; it would have been someone else. Personally, I would have preferred it to be someone else.
“Can me and Tom have some lunch?” I asked.
“You mean may Tom and I have some lunch? And yes, you may. Make yourselves a sandwich and clean up when you’re done.” Mum always does that. She corrects everything I say. She even corrects Tom. When I grow up and have kids, I’m never going to do that to them; it’s so annoying.
We made ourselves a Vegemite sandwich and took them down to the cubby to eat. Mum won't let me take glasses outside, so we skulled our cordial before we left. “Let’s go see what Ed’s doing,” I said with my mouth full. Just as well Mum wasn’t around, because I’d get into trouble for that too. I often wonder what people did before manners where invented.
I shoved the last of my sandwich into my mouth. Tom had already finished his. I went inside and quickly packed away the lunch stuff. Tom was waiting out the front for me by the time I’d finished, so I yelled to Mum to tell her that I was leaving.
“Okay, don’t be late,” she called back.
We walked to Ed’s place to see if he wanted to play. His place smelled delicious, even on a full tummy. It always does, no matter what time of day it is. I’m never sure what it is, but his mum’s always cooking something that smells good. His family is Italian, so maybe that has something to do with it. Ed had to go visit his cousins at Kilaben Bay, so he couldn’t come with us. That left just Tom and me, so we left Ed’s place and walked back down the hill towards my place.
“Let’s go to Deefie’s Hill and pick some blackberries,” Tom suggested.
“What if the Dumbrells are there again?”
“They won’t be. The cops have been to see them today so they wouldn’t dare.”
***
I raced in and grabbed an ice cream container and was back out without anyone realising I’d been home. I wanted to surprise Mum with them when we got back. I might even be able to talk her into to making a pie if we pick enough. We’d just started walking along the track towards Deefie’s Hill when Tom asked if I wanted to go to the creek first. I was happy to get off the main pathway in case the Dumbrells turned up again. I thought it was unlikely, but I was worried nonetheless.
We turned off the track and followed a narrower path into the bush. The path wound through the bush for a bit before twisting around some Paperbark trees and dwindling away to nothing. We had to walk around a big pile of Lantana to get to the creek. The mud at the edge of the creek was dry and cracked. Whenever it rains, the water gets really deep. Sometimes it comes all the way up to our bums, but not today. Today, the creek was only about three feet wide and not very deep. We sat on the old tree trunk that had fallen across the water years ago, making a bridge. We took our shoes off and dangled our feet in the water. It was nice and cool. I noticed Tom had a row of fine scratches across his thigh were he’d brushed up against some cut grass walking to the creek. I reached across and ran my fingers along the rows of red lines. “Tom?”
“Yes.”
“What do you reckon will happen to the Dumbrells?”
“I hope they get locked up in a home for boys where they get bashed up every day.”
Trust Tom to say something like that. I wasn’t sure if I wanted them to get bashed up every day, but I did think the boys home sounded like a good idea. “Do you think they’ll come after us?”
“They wouldn’t be game. Besides, if they lay a finger on you, I’ll beat them black and blue.”
I didn’t dare tell Tom that, even though I thought he was really brave for saying so, I didn’t think he’d win two against one. I know Shortie did, but he took them by surprise.
We put our shoes back on and walked the rest of the way to Deefie’s Hill. The sign at the bottom of the hill warned us one more time that “trespassers will be prosecuted”. I’m not really sure what it means, but I think it has something to do with the death penalty. It must be a really old sign though, because Dad said we don’t have the death penalty in Australia anymore.
We heard the voices before we saw who they belonged to. My heart raced and I felt the colour drain from my face. I was sure Tom could hear my heart pounding from where he stood. I must have been holding my breath without realising it because I heard myself let it out slowly when I saw that it was only Mitchell Morgan and Craig Wilkinson. They’d made some jumps out of old logs and planks of wood and they were riding their bikes over them.
Tom snickered. “Check out Evel Knievel and Dale Buggins, will you.” Craig jumped over the ramp and skidded up beside us, almost suffocating us in a cloud of dust. “Did ya hear what happened to Shortie?” he asked.
“Of course we did, the police were at my place this morning,” I said with an air of authority. I was certain the police hadn’t talked to anyone else except me.
“Who do you think did it?” Mitchell asked pulling up beside Craig.
Tom was quick to answer. “Who else, it was them fuckwit Dumbrells.”
“I heard they shoved a paper bag in his mouth and pissed on his head,” Craig added.
“They did not,” I said. “I would know about it if it they did. They just tied him up and put a bag in his mouth, that’s all.”
“Who told you that?” asked Tom.
Mitchell told us that his brother David found out from Jason Morley who lives next door to the Dumbrells. David reckons Andrew Dumbrell told Jason that he heard the police talking to his dad. He also said that Duncan and Dean told the police they had nothing to do with it.
“Fucking liars,” Tom spat.
We left Craig and Mitchell doing jumps on their bikes and walked behind the blackberry bushes. Tom pointed to a patch of blackberries near his feet. “Here’s a good spot.”
Pastel coloured flowers poked their perfectly formed petals through every gap making it difficult to tell the blackberries from the Lantana. There were thousands of blackberries, they were everywhere I looked. Tom had already eaten a handful by the time I got there. Mum says we shouldn’t eat them without washing them first, but we always do. We’ve never been sick from eating th
em unwashed yet.
We took our time and filled the container three quarters full, eating almost as many as we collected. We even managed to climb up onto an old car and get right into the middle where there was a mountain of them. Mum won’t be very happy when she sees all my scratches, but I’m hoping the container full of blackberries will make up for that.
I wasn’t sure how long we’d been gone, but it looked like it was getting late. Neither of us had a watch, so we didn’t know what time it was. Craig and Mitchell had left ages ago. “We better get going,” I suggested.
“Just a couple more,” said Tom. “There’s almost enough to make a pie.”
As if he knew how many blackberries you needed to make a pie, I thought. We both noticed a pile of berries at the bottom of the bush that we’d overlooked. We knelt down to pick them, staining our knees on the squished berries. I looked over to Tom and laughed. His mouth was all red from eating the berries.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked.
“You, your mouth’s all red.”
“So’s yours,” he said, and leaned over and kissed me smack on the mouth. “Mmm... just as I thought, blackberries!”
“What’d you do that for?” I could feel my face turning red and I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“I just wanted to see what you taste like, that’s all.” He stood up to go. “C’mon, that should be enough, let’s get out of here.”
Just like that! He kisses me on the lips and then pretends nothing happened. Jeez! I had no idea what to say, so I chickened out and also pretended like it never happened. Only, I couldn’t stop thinking about it all the way home.
***
Dad was in the shed when I got back. Mum and Brian were at Grandma’s, and Kate and Tracy were at a friend’s place. Dad looked up from his workbench and came over to the door where I was standing.
“How come you’re home early?” I asked.
“I had a few things I needed to sort out, so Doug said I could get away early.”
I wasn’t sure how to say what I wanted to ask next, so I just jumped straight in. “Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Is it true that the Dumbrells weed on Shortie’s head?”
“Who told you that?”
“Mitchell Morgan told us that Jason Morley found out from Andrew Dumbrell.”
“I see.”
“Well? Is it true?”
Dad sighed and I knew straight away that it was. He had that same look on his face he always gets when I ask him something he doesn’t want to answer. Like the time I asked him what a rug muncher was. He had that same look then. “How come you didn’t tell me about it?” I demanded.
“Well, your mother and I thought it best you didn’t know,” he said. “You know, to save Shortie the embarrassment and all that.”
“What else happened?”
“Nothing, that’s everything.”
“Promise?”
“Promise!”
Chapter 15
Saturday, 23 November 1968
Peter grabbed his car keys and kissed Maggie on the cheek. “See ya babe, I’ll be back before my oldies arrive.”
Maggie turned back to the sink and continued making the salad. “What time did you tell them to get here?”
“Same as usual, around five.”
That meant they would arrive at four. They always arrived an hour early. Faye was convinced that something would happen on the way and John humoured her because it was much easier than arguing. By now, everyone was so used to Faye’s ridiculous insistence at arriving early that they simply added an hour to the scheduled start time of any event. Faye was so adamant of her need to take such precautions that it never even struck her as odd that despite the considerable time she allowed herself and the absence of any tragedy befalling her along the way, everyone else still got there within minutes of her.
Stephen snatched a piece of carrot from the chopping board as he walked past. “Hey Dad, can I grab a lift to Mark’s place?”
“Sure. C’mon.”
Maggie called after him. “Aren’t you staying for the barbie?”
“Yeah, I’ll be straight back. I just have to get a few things from Mark’s then he’s going to drive me back home.”
“Will he be staying for the barbie too?” Maggie asked.
“Yeah, probably.”
For as long as Maggie could remember, Saturday afternoon barbeques at their place had been a tradition. Roger and Mary almost always turned up with Susan and Rebecca, as did Peter’s parents, Faye and John. Friends and neighbours were often invited and the kids would invariably have one or two friends along as well. When the kids were younger – and Maggie and Peter’s life was less hectic – the Saturday afternoon barbecue was almost a weekly occurrence. Now with the kids grown up, Michelle home infrequently, and everyone busy doing more of who knows what, they were lucky to get together once a month. In fact, it had been five weeks since the last barbecue and Faye had been nagging Maggie for almost two of those weeks to set a date for the next one.
It was no secret that Faye looked forward to the family get-togethers. She often complained that apart from the occasional barbecue, she hardly got to see her family anymore. Of course, her complaints were totally unfounded. Their house was only five minutes by car from Maggie and Peter’s and fifteen minutes from Roger and Mary’s, but, because their car spent more time at the pub with John than in their driveway, the task of driving Faye about often fell to Maggie. Hardly a week went by that Maggie did not have to drive her somewhere or run an errand for her. Maggie knew that Faye was not beyond asking Mary to taxi her around either. Whenever she felt she had run out of goodwill with one daughter-in-law, she would move on to the next.
Of course nobody bothered to argue the point with her. Arguing anything with Faye was not a good use of anyone’s time. She was relentless in her conviction that she was correct in everything she said and believed, and to challenge Faye was to invite an endless string of illogical and often irrational arguments. Peter always joked that his mum would die at echo point. Maggie thought that the trick was to ensure that you didn’t die there with her.
Peter dropped Stephen at Mark’s place and drove the short distance to the university. He was already regretting his decision to take up the additional task of marking exams. He knew that with the repairs needed at Bellbird Cottage, the money would come in handy. However, before he had even begun his first assignment, he was starting to doubt if it was worth his time. God knows, he had precious little of it as it was without having to work on weekends as well.
He pulled into the almost deserted car park and walked across the campus to the engineering faculty. He was not used to everything being so quiet. Only a handful of people could be seen wandering through the grounds. The absence of the normal hustle and bustle made the place appear somewhat larger than usual. Peter unlocked the building and headed towards his office. Since he was not going to be long, he did not bother to lock the door behind him. His footsteps reverberated through the office block as he walked down the empty corridor. Normally he would try to muffle the noise by treading softly, but since no one was around, he didn’t bother.
The garbage bin on his desk confirmed that the cleaner had been and gone. He unlocked his filing cabinet and grabbed the bulging manila folder out of the top drawer. He checked through the papers to make sure he had the marking guide. Looking at the exam paper on top of the pile, it was obvious that the student in question had already made at least one mistake. He was about to flick through the next paper when he realised he was dawdling, so not wanting to waste any more time, he closed the folder, turned the light off, and pulled the door shut behind him. Before departing, he gave the handle one last turn to make sure that he had locked the door properly.
“Well, hello there.”
Peter jumped so high he almost dropped the folder.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Peter felt his
stomach sink. What the hell is she doing here, he wondered.
“Thanks for leaving the door open for me.”
Peter turned to face her. “I didn’t,” he said, sounding far colder than he intended.
Jane never missed a beat. “No? Well, you could have fooled me. I watched you enter the building. You looked straight at me, inviting me to follow you.”
Peter was flabbergasted. He didn’t know what to say. Surely she didn’t really think he had left the door open for her. “I’m sorry Jane, you’re mistaken. I never even saw you.”
“Nice looking kid.”
“Sorry?” Peter sounded confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Your kid. Well, I assume it was your kid. The one you dropped off on the way here.”
“You mean Stephen?”
“I don’t know. The tall guy you had with you in your car. I assumed he was your son. He sure looks like you. Very groovy, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“What are you doing here? Did you follow me?” Peter's voice had a distinct edge to it.
“Whoa, hang on a minute Sir, one question at a time. What am I doing here? Well, let’s see. I was getting bored, so I went for a drive. I decided that, since my exams were over, it was time I got myself a little R and R. Then, before I knew it, I accidentally found myself driving past your place. I saw you and your kid get into your car, and well… you don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to work out the rest.”
Peter was stunned. She had followed him. Determined not to let her see how much her confession had shaken him, he tried to sound calm. “Maybe you should check out the Bourbon and Beefsteak, I hear it’s a great place for a little R and R.” He realised he was being mean, but he couldn’t help it. She had no right to be stalking him this way. Peter decided the best thing he could do was to get the hell out of there.
Jane was obviously not in her usual state, and he wondered if she was on something. Peter didn’t know much about drugs, but he had heard of things like French Blues and Purple Hearts, as well as the more common stuff like LSD and heroin. Whatever she was on, he did not think it was weed. He and Maggie were not beyond having a joint or two from time to time, so he was familiar with marijuana’s calming effects. Jane, on the other hand, looked like she was jumping out of her skin, and he had no idea how to deal with her.
Summer Page 11