Teresa: A New Australian

by Abela, Deborah

  ‘Most of the characters that perform in this book still live, and are prosperous and happy. Some day it may seem worth while to take up the story of the younger ones again and see what sort of men and women they turned out to be.’

  Mrs Swan closed the book. ‘And now it’s time to select your own adventure.’

  As the class spread throughout the library, Teresa scanned each of the shelves, unsure where to start.

  ‘Can I help you, dear?’

  ‘I don’t know which one to choose.’

  Mrs Swan laughed. ‘That’s a lovely dilemma. Come with me and we’ll find you the perfect one.’

  As she led Teresa into the rows of books, whispering excitedly about the stories they held, Henry stood back, watching their every step.

  Teresa sat with the other kids and prepared to eat her lunch, excited about the library books in her bag and the hours of reading she was going to do at home, when a shadow fell over her.

  ‘What’s that?’ Henry screwed up his face.

  Teresa’s lunchbox rested on her lap. ‘It is lasagne.’

  ‘Lasa-what?’

  The other children were watching now that Henry was creating a fuss.

  ‘Lasagne,’ Teresa answered.

  ‘Well, it pongs.’ He held his nose and leant on the shoulder of the boy next to him. ‘Help me, Jack, I think I’m going to throw up.’

  There were sniggers of laughter all around.

  ‘Can’t your mum make normal tucker?’ Jack joined in.

  Teresa didn’t know how to answer.

  ‘Tucker,’ Jack put his fingers to his mouth. ‘You know, food.’

  Teresa glanced at the children sitting on either side of her, munching into sandwiches. She put the lid on her lunchbox and slipped it into her bag.

  ‘Be careful,’ Henry warned the others. ‘If you sit close to her you might catch something. My dad said ever since these foreigners arrived we’ve got all sorts of diseases we never had before.’

  ‘It’s true.’ Another boy waved his Vegemite sandwich. ‘My mum says it’s safer not to even touch them.’

  Children on nearby seats moved away, all except Amanda, who stayed by Teresa’s side.

  ‘I don’t have any diseases.’ Teresa tried to keep her voice from shaking. ‘The Australian officers checked us on the ship.’

  ‘Even so,’ the boy said as he finished his sandwich, ‘you can’t be too sure.’

  The bell sounded for playtime. The children sprang from the benches and rushed to throw footballs, skip ropes and hurl jacks.

  Henry stayed behind, a smug smile plastered on his face. ‘So, Miss High and Mighty, who’s the winner now?’

  Teresa couldn’t answer. She felt sick and her skin iced over.

  ‘Maybe you’ll think again the next time you decide to be a poser.’

  ‘You’re a bully,’ Amanda mumbled.

  Henry took a step towards her. ‘What did you say?’

  Amanda sat still for whole seconds until she said it again. ‘You’re a bully.’

  Without warning, Henry slapped the sandwich from her hands. Bread and cheese slices fell in the dirt.

  Henry shot her a poisoned scowl. ‘Got anything else to say, Chubby Cheeks?’

  Amanda was silent.

  ‘Thought so.’ He and Jack turned away, collapsing into each other’s arms in cruel laughter.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Teresa whispered.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Amanda said. ‘I’ve been wanting to tell him that for ages.’

  On her way home, Teresa emptied her lunch into the bin. Amanda had been the only one to say goodbye, and Henry made sure he blocked the corridor with his friends, allowing everyone else to get past but her. He talked loudly, pretending that he couldn’t even see her.

  Like she was invisible.

  In the foyer of her building, she searched their post box for a letter from Anna. She’d been checking every day since they’d arrived, but still nothing.

  She dragged her feet up the stairs. As she reached their hallway, Albert opened his door. His eyes met Teresa’s before he bent down to collect a bag of groceries Lucy had left for him.

  He stared at the ground, clutching the bag. ‘Thanks for the cakes,’ he said quietly. ‘Please tell your mother they were very good.’

  ‘You’re welcome, Mr Donovan.’

  Teresa tried to smile, but the day weighed on her too heavily.

  Albert looked as if he wanted to say more, but turned away and softly closed the door behind him.

  Most days were the same.

  Teresa’s stomach rumbled while her mother’s carefully made lunches were left untouched in her bag. The children never sat too close to her or invited her to play, and when she saw her parents at night, she told them stories about what she’d learned but left out the parts about the name-calling, the time she found a dead mouse in her bag and that she’d stopped trying in mathematics because it made Henry so angry when she beat him.

  In fact, just being near Henry seemed to provoke him, so she tried to stay out of his way.

  But even that wasn’t enough.

  After one particularly bad day, Teresa trudged out of class only to see Henry and Jack waiting outside the school gate. She searched the playground, hoping for another way out, and saw Mrs Swan through the window of the library.

  ‘Teresa, what are you doing here?’

  ‘Is it okay if I read in here for a while?’

  Mrs Swan stopped what she was doing and studied Teresa’s face. ‘Is anything wrong?’

  Teresa shrugged. ‘No.’

  Mrs Swan peered over the rim of her glasses. ‘Are your classmates making you feel welcome?’

  ‘Yes.’ Teresa nodded. ‘I won’t make any noise, I promise.’

  She settled into a corner and began reading while Mrs Swan shelved books and chatted while she worked. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of this library. So many stories just waiting to be read. Each with its own special place.’

  Teresa swallowed against the lump in her throat.

  Mrs Swan slid another book onto a shelf. ‘Just like us, really. We all have our own story and every one is as important as the next.’ She held up a small book with a plain blue cover. ‘Even the small ones we sometimes don’t notice.’

  She smiled and held out the book. ‘Would you like to help while we swap stories?’

  Teresa nodded and slipped her book into her bag. Mrs Swan handed her a pile of returns. ‘You tell me yours first.’

  Mrs Swan’s stories had been so good that when Teresa began the walk home, she’d forgotten all about Henry and Jack.

  Until she saw them stretched out on the footpath ahead.

  She clutched Nanna’s cross and looked back to the school grounds, but Mrs Swan had already gone.

  They got to their feet and stood in her way. ‘Thought you’d hide behind the librarian, eh?’ Henry asked.

  ‘I was helping put books away.’

  ‘Like a good crawler.’

  Teresa shook her head. ‘No, I wasn’t crawling. I …’

  Jack laughed. ‘She doesn’t understand.’

  Cars rushed by only a few feet away.

  ‘I have to go.’ She tried to walk past but Henry snatched her new schoolbag and stepped back, dangling it in the air.

  ‘Please, give it back.’

  ‘Sure.’ He smiled. ‘If you come and get it.’

  She stepped toward him and almost reached the bag when he threw it to Jack. She lunged at him, but Jack tossed it back.

  She jumped and caught the strap just as Henry did. ‘Give it back!’

  ‘Make me.’ His face was an ugly snarl.

  Another car whooshed past.

  Teresa tugged at the strap but Henry jerked his arm hard, pulling her forward. She tripped over his leg and fell onto the road.

  Henry watched as a car headed straight for her.

  ‘Let’s get out of here!’ Jack dragged his friend away as the car swerved and sounded its horn, onl
y just missing Teresa.

  She scrambled onto the kerb. Her hands stung and were peppered with grit and her knee bled from a deep gash. She took out her hanky and held it over the wound.

  Sitting on the grassy verge, she waited until the bleeding stopped. Then, stuffing the hanky into her pocket, she began the long walk home.

  After checking the post box and again finding no letter from Anna, she climbed the stairs in her building. When she reached her flat, Albert opened his door, as if he had been waiting for her. ‘How was school? Oh.’ He saw her bloodied knee. ‘That looks nasty.’

  Teresa wanted to tell him what had happened but she wasn’t sure where to start.

  ‘I can fix that.’ Albert stood aside and opened his door wider.

  Teresa stepped into his flat. Heavy curtains blocked any daylight and it smelt musty, as if years had passed since a breeze was allowed through.

  ‘Sit there.’

  When she sat on the sofa, a cloud of dust wafted about her and sparkled in the light coming in from the hall.

  Albert took a medical kit from under his kitchen sink and got down on his knees. He poured alcohol onto a cloth. ‘This might hurt.’

  Teresa nodded and bit her lip as Albert pressed it to her knee.

  ‘You want to tell me what happened?’

  Teresa shrugged. ‘I fell.’

  ‘Anyone else involved?’

  ‘I tripped over Henry’s leg.’

  Albert peered at her through his long fringe. ‘This Henry got very long legs, has he?’

  ‘No, he just – ouch!’

  She flinched as Albert wiped the last of the dirt from her wound.

  ‘Sorry.’ He winced. ‘I’m almost done.’

  As he took a plaster from his kit, Teresa looked away. She noticed a photo propped against a box on the mantelpiece. It was a group of soldiers, their arms around each other, smiling into the camera. One of them looked like a younger version of Albert.

  ‘Are they your army friends?’

  Albert paused, just for a moment, before he gently applied the plaster.

  ‘Lucy told me you were in the war,’ Teresa said. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking.’

  He closed his kit and put it back under the sink. ‘Should heal better now it’s been cleaned.’

  Albert shuffled to the door to let her out. Teresa worried she’d offended him with her question.

  She picked up her bag. ‘Thank you.’

  Albert frowned as if he’d stubbed his toe. ‘Be more careful.’

  They stood for a few more moments in silence before he closed the door and Teresa heard the bolt slide firmly into place.

  On the one-month anniversary of their arrival in Australia, Teresa’s papa decided to celebrate with a fine dinner. Dressed in her best clothes, Teresa walked between her parents as they looked for the perfect place.

  They stopped to look inside a restaurant filled with diners, pointing out the dishes they liked most, when they heard a gravelly voice beside them.

  ‘Why don’t you talk Australian like the rest of us?’

  Papa wasn’t sure if the man was speaking to them. ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘Don’t preten’ you carn ‘ear me. I ‘eard you talkin’ ya wog language.’

  Teresa tried to keep up with the man’s slurred words.

  ‘I speak Maltese. We’re from Malta.’ Her papa held out his hand but the man ignored it.

  ‘I don’t care what wog language it is.’ He staggered, like the ground was moving under his feet. ‘Yer in Australia now and ya should talk English.’

  Some people stared as they walked past. Papa gently drew Teresa behind him.

  ‘We are going to have dinner. We wish you a good night.’ Teresa’s papa turned away but the man poked him in the back.

  ‘Think ya so good, don’t ya? Come to this country for free while the rest of us have to work.’

  Papa looked directly into the man’s eyes. ‘I work very hard.’

  This only seemed to upset him even more. ‘So ya think yer better than me, do ya? You’re just a reffo, scrounging off this country like a parasite.’

  Papa frowned.

  The man had a crooked smile with missing teeth. ‘Ya don’t even understand what I’m saying, do ya? A parasite’s a bug that takes what isn’t theirs.’

  Papa held up his hand. ‘That’s not very –’

  ‘Arrr,’ the man grunted and slapped his hand away.

  ‘Papa!’

  Teresa’s mama drew her close and tugged at her husband’s sleeve. ‘Let’s go.’

  But Papa wasn’t about to back down. Instead he squared up to the man. ‘Please, don’t do that again.’

  ‘Or what? Ya gonna hit me?’ He raised his hands into fists. ‘Come on. I’ll have ya. I’ll bust ya dago head …’

  ‘What’s the problem there, Frank?’

  He seemed to shrink a little at the sight of the broad-shouldered man Teresa and Mama had met in the butcher shop.

  ‘These people are the problem, Bill, coming ‘ere where they’re not wanted.’ He flicked his hand. ‘They should go back to where they came from.’

  ‘Who doesn’t want them?’ Bill spoke calmly.

  ‘Why, everyone.’ The man looked around for support from passers-by but found none.

  ‘And if they all go home,’ Bill continued, ‘like you want, who’s going to build the schools and work in the factories? Who’s going to help defend Australia if war breaks out again? You going to do it, Frank? Because it’s a long time since you’ve been sober enough to walk a straight line, let alone hold a gun.’

  ‘I’m just as good as they are,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Sober, maybe.’ Bill shook his head. ‘But not like this.’

  Frank’s shoulders drooped. ‘But it’s not right they –’

  ‘What’s not right,’ Bill said, ‘is innocent people being harassed when they’re doing nothing wrong.’ He laid a firm hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘Go home, you great duffer. Sleep it off.’

  Frank hung his head. He pulled his coat across his chest and slunk into the crowd.

  ‘Thank you.’ Mama looked pale.

  ‘I’m sorry about that. He can be a good bloke, although you’d never know it after he’s been drinking. He’s had some bad luck and it’s made him mean. Not everyone’s like that.’ He doffed his hat. ‘You folks have yourselves a good night.’

  The family didn’t feel very much like celebrating after that, so they went home and ate spaghetti by candlelight after the electricity went off again. When Papa tucked her into bed, he whispered, ‘You’re not to worry about that man.’

  ‘But what does dago and reffo mean? And why does he hate us so much?’

  ‘They’re just words,’ Papa answered. ‘And he doesn’t hate us. He didn’t know what he was saying. Okay?’

  ‘Yes, Papa.’ Teresa gave him her best smile, but when he blew out the candles and she snuggled into her blankets, she tried to muffle her crying so he wouldn’t hear.

  She kept seeing the man’s clenched fists and his face twisted with hate. It was the same look Henry had when he snatched her bag.

  She was trying to block out the memory when she heard cursing and mumbling through the thin walls.

  It was Albert. He was whispering urgent orders.

  ‘Keep your head down. And stay close behind me.’

  There was shuffling and the sound of furniture being dragged across the floor.

  ‘Stay here. You’ll be safe! I said keep your head down! Down! No!’

  There was quiet before Teresa heard him crying.

  It sounded hollow and sad. From deep in his stomach. Like he was lost and no one would ever find him.

  Teresa woke to knocking.

  Her head ached and her eyes felt puffy.

  She tried to remember what day it was.

  Saturday. She smiled in relief. No school.

  She stared at the door, blinking sleep away, wondering if she’d dreamt the knocking.

&nbs
p; When it came again, she threw the blankets aside and squinted through the peephole. In the shadows outside their door was Albert.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Donovan.’

  ‘Morning.’

  Teresa could tell he’d tried to comb his hair but it still stuck out in clumps at the back.

  ‘Just wanted to check on your …’ He pointed at her leg.

  ‘It’s fine, look.’ She lifted her nightdress to show her grazed knee. ‘Thanks to you.’

  ‘No infection?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good.’

  Teresa waited in case he had more to say.

  ‘Good-oh.’ Albert turned away.

  ‘Are you going for a walk?’

  ‘Just to the foyer to get the paper.’

  ‘Can I come?’

  Albert nodded.

  ‘Wait there.’

  Teresa quickly dressed, grabbed her keys and locked the door. ‘Ready.’

  They walked down the four flights of creaky stairs without a word. Albert’s breath was heavy, as if he was carrying a large invisible weight on his back. In the foyer, he strained as he bent low to collect the paper from the floor before turning back to begin the climb.

  ‘Shall we go outside?’ Teresa asked.

  ‘Why?’ He looked afraid.

  ‘Maybe we could go for a walk.’

  Albert shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think –’

  Teresa had already opened the door, letting in beams of bright sunlight. ‘It’s a beautiful day. We could sit in the park across the road.’

  Albert squinted into the street. Cars drove past, families strolled in the sun. He twisted the paper in his hands.

  ‘We won’t be long,’ Teresa said.

  Albert looked at his feet and frowned as if he was wondering if it was even possible. ‘Maybe just a short walk.’

  He shuffled to the door. Teresa watched as he took his first step outside. She stayed close beside him. When he stood in the sunshine, his hunched shoulders straightened a little. He lifted his head to look at flowers in window boxes and cats curled on steps.

  He closed his eyes and let the sun warm his face.

  Teresa took a sneaky glance to make sure he was okay. He was even smiling.

  Then a car backfired.