Brontide

by Sue McPherson

  Brontide

  Brontide

  Sue McPherson

  First published 2018, reprinted 2018

  Magabala Books Aboriginal Corporation

  1 Bagot Street, Broome, Western Australia

  Website: www.magabala.com

  Email: sales@magabala.com

  Magabala Books receives financial assistance from the Commonwealth Government through the Australia Council, its arts advisory body. The State of Western Australia has made an investment in this project through the Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries. Magabala Books would like to acknowledge the generous support of the Shire of Broome, Western Australia.

  Copyright © Sue McPherson, Text and Illustrations, 2018

  The author/illustrator asserts her moral rights.

  All rights reserved. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this publication may be reproduced by any process whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher.

  Cover Design Jo Hunt

  Typeset by Post Pre-press Group

  Printed and bound by Griffin Press, South Australia

  To Steve, Jardi boy and Jye Springall, Pancho and Tony Ryan

  Author’s Note

  G’day! My name is Sue and I’m the author of Grace Beside Me. Not that long ago I was asked to help with a storytelling workshop at Taralune High School.

  Taralune is a quaint, old hippy beach town, halfway between Rainbow Beach and Noosa in mostly sunny Queensland. My plan was to recharge the battery, read, eat, enjoy the sunshine and help a few kids write a story. I honestly thought the trip was all about me and having time out … I was wrong.

  Taralune was fantastic – the school, the people and the sleepy beach culture were perfect for anyone needing a break. Workshops were held at two schools, Taralune High and St Nicholas Lutheran College.

  We had a ball. Most of the kids enjoyed telling and writing a good yarn, especially a young lad named Pen. A few saw it as a bludge but put in anyway. And then there were Rob, Benny Boy and Jack who hated anything connected to reading or writing. They thought they had better things to do.

  Those three lads didn’t see themselves as storytellers but their doggedness to tell a yarn was both inspiring and profound.

  The words, thoughts and images in these pages are theirs. I just asked questions, recorded and collated the information given to me.

  I’m not trained in interviewing. Looking back now, my techniques were, at times, clunky, unconventional and embarrassing.

  Like many, I felt the storm brewing but I didn’t think it would hit. Many of us played hard growing up, but somehow we avoided tragedy. I assumed the same would happen in Taralune. My lack of intervention has caused me many sleepless nights. Should have, could have … but didn’t. Writing this now, I can barely see the words as my tears well.

  This is not my story, it’s theirs. Stay strong, stay safe.

  Everyone has a story.

  Sue McPherson

  Rob

  Name: Rob Bower

  Age: 17

  Year: 12

  Pet: Nig

  Brothers: Joey

  Pen (Kane)

  Mum: Shaz (Sharon)

  Dad: Dave – Pain in the Arse

  Rob

  Monday, 9am

  Taralune High School, Library Room L4

  Sue: Where do you want to start?

  Rob: Miss, I don’t want to do this.

  It’s ucked.

  Sue: Oi!

  Rob: I didn’t use the f.

  Sue: We’ve talked about this. I can’t transcribe swearing.

  Rob: So, I can’t swear?

  Sue: Use your imagination.

  Rob: I did. And anyway that sucks, cause I’ve got shitloads to say.

  Hey, Miss? I reckon the word shit’s okay.

  Can I say shit? Because if I can’t, well, then this isn’t gonna work.

  Sue: If you have to.

  Rob: And I don’t want no flappy ears listening.

  Sue: It’s a double room and we’re at the back. Nobody can hear us.

  Look around … See? They’re all busy.

  Rob: People think I’m always angry.

  It pisses me off what they think. People piss me off. They think they know me, but they’re full a shit.

  I said shit and you said it’s okay?

  Sue: Keep going.

  Rob: If I’ve got somethin’ to say, I’ll say it. I’m not like all those others-who-big-note all the time. Big mouths when they’re all together but on their own quiet as mices.

  Mouses.

  Weak pricks, that’s all they are. I’ll stand up for meself. I’m definitely not weak so let’s get that right. Okay?

  Sue: Okay. Who are your mates?

  Rob: There’s Foot and Trev. I talk to them all the time, can’t shut me up ’cause they’re me mates, ya see. We got lots to talk about.

  And I’ve got Joey. Joey and Pen are me brothers so that doesn’t count, does it?

  Sue: Why not? If you have things in common and you get on?

  Rob: Yeah … well, okay.

  Taralune is our hometown. Shaz’s – Mum’s – great-great-grandparents pulled up here years ago in a bullocky wagon after trying to scratch a living out west.

  If you look through the window, you’ll see.

  This window, Miss … across them hills, it’s blackfella country. Trev’s mob comes from there too. Probably was his mob that worked for me great-great-grandparents.

  Sue: Tell me about Trev? He’s obviously a blackfella?

  Rob: Yep, but he’s not one of those lazy black bastards you see around.

  Sue: Don’t hold back.

  Rob: I’m not. It’s my story, remember?

  But Trev’s good. And his mum and his sister, they all wear shoes and they’ve got their own house. And Trev’s mum is the best cook ever, even better than Shaz.

  Sue: You say Aboriginal people are lazy black bastards?

  Rob: Most are! So what?

  Sue: So, it’s derogatory. It’s inappropriate. Not right.

  What if I called you a lazy white bastard?

  Rob: Sick shoes, Miss.

  Sue: Tell me about your home.

  Rob: Most houses here are Queenslanders, ours has been in our family since way back. Poppie added a few new rooms when he had it. Since him and Nan died we’ve painted all the rooms, dug a pool and built an entertainment area …

  A new picket fence for the front and Shaz put in a real cool garden. It’s tropical but full of sick things like garden sculptures and seats and water features and shit.

  Good shit, but!

  Kids around here love it when we have an open garden.

  Yeah, we also took down the shitter out the back, no need for a pit toilet these days, and we installed new fans and a wood heater inside.

  Sue: How about your mum and dad?

  Rob: When Dave came back the third time …

  Dave’s me dad.

  Sue: Where did he go?

  Rob: Dunno. He just pisses off and leaves us to it.

  Anyway, when Dave came back he built a big shed out the back for his tools and trailers and bits of wood and stuff. He’s a builder.

  Joey, me brother, works for him and I’m a first-year apprentice even though I’m still at school.School three days, two days at work. Except that’s changed now, cause school’s nearly finished.

  Sue: Perfect! You’ve started your apprenticeship and in three weeks you’ll have your school certificate as well.

  Rob: Yeah! I have to complete Year Twelve and do an apprenticeship; Joey had to do the same.

  If I did a different apprenticeship, Dave would have to change his signs to
Dave Bower and Son, not Sons … and the ads in the paper and his Facebook page …

  Dave said I’d be the dickhead if I changed me career.

  Sue: What about Pen?

  Rob: Pen’s different. Dave said Pen won’t be working with us.

  Just me and Joey.

  Sue: Why’s Pen different?

  Rob: Everyone knows he looks like Shaz.

  Sue: I don’t get it?

  Rob: Don’t worry, Miss, I’ll tell ya later.

  Sue: But it’s your life, you boys should be able to choose your own career.

  Rob?

  Rob: Not in our house … Having your own life isn’t part of Dave’s plan.

  We are his plan.

  So, the business is really takin’ off. Dave’s got eight blokes workin’ for him, plus Joey and me. A new bloke started a couple of weeks ago, his name’s Jack. He’s my age, another apprentice, so, yeah, that means ten workers and the new bloke makes eleven.

  Sue: Where’s Jack from?

  Rob: From here, this school. He come up from down south. Dave reckons he’s a bit of a bogan sook.

  They’re a different breed down south, that’s what the old man says. I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been there, eh!

  So, three more weeks and I’m finished with Education Queensland.

  Me and the boys will head down to the Goldie for schoolies, go apeshit for a week then back home and on the job as apprentice chippy.

  Can’t wait.

  Sue: You don’t like school?

  Rob: Just because I’m doin’ Year Twelve doesn’t mean I’m good at it, ’cause I suck.

  I’m exceptional at maths, me report even says that. I understand gardening, it’s easy and fun. Playing in dirt and looking after flowers and trees and growin’ things isn’t work for me, I actually enjoy it. And I’m good at it.

  But I can’t stand writing and thinking about writing and people talking to me about writing.

  I’ve never read a whole book in me life. But I’ve watched all of Harry Potter.

  I’m no good at all those other subjects. I’ll get passes but that’s it.

  I’ve already got a job so who the …

  P

  H

  U

  K

  cares?

  Did you get that, Miss?

  Sue: I got it.

  Rob: Clever, eh? See! I’m being creative.

  Sue: Tell me about girls, do you have a girlfriend?

  Rob: Women?

  What can I say? I’m a chick magnet.

  Like, I’m not one of those stay-with-the-same-girl-for-twenty-years type of blokes. I’m more of a show-me-what-you’ve-got-and-how-often-can-you-give-it-to-me type.

  Sue: You’re killing me.

  Rob: Well, women bore me. Leslie Peters, Mia Rose, Chrissie Lucas are all horny and hot as.

  Good-lookin’ but booooorring!

  They always want the same thing.

  Let’s go to the movies.

  Let’s go out.

  Let’s hold hands.

  Let’s say we’re in a relationship on Facebook.

  Let’s get jealous whenever another good-lookin’ girl walks past.

  Blah, blah, blah – they’re all the same.

  Sue: All?

  Rob: Well …

  Well, no …

  Not Sharni Manning, Trev’s sister …

  She’s different.

  She’s nice …

  Sue: She’s what?

  Rob: You heard.

  Too bad she’s …

  Well, it’s too bad Dave doesn’t see her as a good catch for his boys.

  Sue: Sounds like a good bloke, your dad.

  Rob: Miss, I’m not stupid, I know sarcasm.

  Sue: She won’t be Dave’s girlfriend, she’ll be yours. And I never said you were stupid.

  Rob: I know that.

  Sue: Tell me about your mum.

  Rob: What abouta?

  Sue: Well, who is she? What’s she like?

  Rob: Shaz loves music from the ’70s and ’80s. She listens to music a lot, just zones out and gets on with her work in the garden or in the house.

  She loves it here, the house is just about how she wants it, light and airy.

  A happy Queenslander living in a happy home.

  Well, sometimes … It’s happy when Dave goes on a fishin’ trip or when there’s work down the coast or in Brisbane or when he goes piggin’ with his crusty old mates.

  Yeah, it’s happy then.

  The block out at the Retreat has just been cleared. Dave hopes to start building the new house early next year, which is soon. It’s going to be a big place with everything in it.

  Shaz will live like a queen. She’ll even have her own cleaner.

  Anyway, Shaz just smiles. She’s more Mother Earth and simple.

  You know …

  A honey-and-milk type of girl.

  That’s what Nan and Poppie used to call her.

  She’s goin’ to the Goldie on the weekend. The community bus’s goin’ down. She likes bus trips.

  Sue: How about hobbies? What do you like to do in your spare time?

  Rob: Heaps, I …

  We like to go tarpin’.

  Sue: I don’t know what that is?

  Rob: Well … it’s this thing we do, like I’m sure others do it but we’re probably the only ones doin’ it here. Tarpin’ all started from a dare, probably about two years ago. Dave used to do it when he was young. He says that tarpin’ is an easy way for boys to prove themselves.

  Like, this is how real men play.

  Down the pub, they all know about Dave and how he went tarpin’ when he was only fourteen. He travelled all the way to Caloundra on his first ride.

  His parents were pissed. They had to go down and pick him up.

  Didn’t stop him, but.

  He’s good like that, he’s tough.

  We decided to give it a go, but no one wanted to go first except Pen. Which is stupid cause Pen was only thirteen at the time.

  He’s fifteen now.

  Joey said he’d do it if we offered cash. Sixty bucks later, Joey climbed under the tarp of a Toyota Hilux parked outside the pub.

  You’ve gotta do it by stealth or there’s no fear and if there’s no fear then there’s no use doin’ it.

  We didn’t know the owner but we knew he was local.

  No, actually … Pen said the driver was a teacher at the Lutheran School. Pen said this guy’s wife, who’s real bonkable, is also a teacher.

  She upped Pen once for a bit of graffiti on the back of the school library. Pen used to go to the Lutheran School before he got booted out.

  Sue: So, you climb in under a random tarp without anyone knowing and you wait there until they stop driving?

  Rob: Yep!

  See, Joey had his phone, sweet as. When the Toyota Hilux stopped, he rung us and we picked him up.

  It’s an easy dare.

  Sue: Does Shaz know?

  Rob: Nah.

  Miss, that’s a dumbest question.

  Why ya shaking your head?

  Sue: I reckon things could go horribly wrong.

  It’s a stupid idea.

  Rob: Yeah, well, like I said, that’s the whole point. Something could go wrong, that’s the fear part and that’s why we do it.

  Probably would be stupid if Sue was doin’ it cause women are nothing but weak sooks.

  Sue: What happened next?

  Rob: Finally this teacher bloke comes out with a mate. Both were wearing boardies, the passenger wore a T-shirt and Vans, the teacher a shirt with thongs. I remember the clothes because I had the exact same T-shirt as the passenger and the exact same boardies as the teacher.

  Coincidence, eh?

  Sue: True.

  Rob: There was nothin’ strange about ’em, as far as we could tell. They looked like mates goin’ home to watch the footy, ’cause the footy was on.

  Essendon vs Collingwood. It was a good game. The Bombers won.


  Up the Bombers!

  You know how I said it was an easy dare?

  Sue: Yep.

  Rob: Well, this was our first time. All of us were a bit freaked out. My guts churned around like somethin’ bad was gonna happen.

  Sue: Who’s the sook now?

  Rob: It was the first time, Miss.

  Sue: Whatever.

  Rob: I went through half a roll of those anti-acid lolly things so I wouldn’t throw up or fart out a pebble turd or somethin’. ’Cause, really, when ya head starts thinkin’, everything gets blown out of reality. These two blokes could’ve easily been serial terrorists or mafia gangsters or bikers undercover.

  None of us knew them, not well enough to say g’day or how’s it hangin’.

  Yeah, things were a bit tense there for a while.

  I was even thinkin’ about what I’d say to Dave if Joey didn’t turn up for work the next day.

  Not even kiddin’, the old man would totally throw a mental and then I’d be in the biggest, deepest shit.

  Sue: What happened next?

  Rob: Thankfully Foot received the call a bit after an hour later. The longest time ever, Miss.

  Joey rang from the end of Buchanan Road, a mostly dirt track on the other side of town. Apparently the Hilux pulled up outside an old cabin backed up high in the bush there. Heaps of us know about it. It’s dusty with cobwebs and huntsman spiders and probably pythons and browns. Nothin’ much inside except a stone fireplace, a scratched-up wooden table and a few odd coloured chairs.

  We used to camp out there when we was in Year Nine.

  Just us blokes.

  We’d say we were staying at each other’s houses so parents didn’t get suspicious. Joey just got his licence so he would drive us out with all our swags and food and grog and a few foils and bongs and stuff.

  Sue: I’m listening.

  Rob: I said we were taking drugs and you said nothin’.

  Sue: It’s your story.

  Rob: So, as long as I don’t say the F word …

  Sue: Or the C word.

  Rob: Come on, Miss? What’s wrong with the C word? Everyone says the C word.

  The F and the C words are the most used words in the whole Aussie dictionary.

  Every cunny funt knows that.

  Miss?

  Okay … okay.