‘I’m not so fond of cooking. The longhouse I grew up in put me off cooking for life. We didn’t have a kitchen. Everything was done in the same room.’
‘Really? Hmm, sometimes it is amazing to think how far we have come. Australia is a truly amazing country.’ Marietta lies down on the grass. ‘So, how’s married life?’
‘Yes, it’s good. Jim, he is affectionate. But—’ She scrunches up her nose.
Marietta props herself up on her elbows and looks at Laila. ‘What?’
Laila waves her hands in front of her nose and makes a face.
‘I know, they don’t wash as often as we do,’ Marietta says.
‘Yeah,’ Laila echoes. ‘He gets lazy. He says in winter he can’t be bothered to walk that distance to have a shower. He only washes once every two days.’ Then she winces. ‘Must be all that milk and cheese they eat, too.’
‘And meat,’ Marietta adds. ‘These whites can’t get away from meat.’
‘Yes, sausages and chops and steak.’ Laila shakes her head.
‘My Peter is exactly the same. Once, last summer it was, he came home from a long day’s work. He was not feeling that well. Had a bit of a cold and, I swear, he smelled like the rotting lizard stuck between the cupboard and the wall back in my classroom.’
They both burst out laughing.
Laila lies down beside Marietta. ‘Do you think about your schooldays, your life back in the Philippines?’
‘Of course I do. No matter how long you’ve lived in Australia, you never forget your home country.’
‘I want to forget them. I want to wipe out that part of my life.’
‘Why?’
‘My father—he was an animal. He was always angry, always shouting. We fought all the time. He hated me and I hated him. It was okay when I was little. I was stupid then, that’s why. When I turned fifteen, it started. I couldn’t say anything that was different to what he thought. Every day we argued.’
‘Hmm.’
‘I’ll probably never see him again. He hit me when I left, said not to ever go back there. But I love my Mak. She is so sweet. Always rescuing me from him. She would comfort me and tell me not to let my father get to me. I miss her so much.’
‘Some men can get really angry.’
‘What about you? What’s your family like?’
‘I really can’t remember. My parents died when I was little. I grew up in an orphanage.’
‘Really, what was that like?’
‘Awful. The nuns were strange. Had a certain way of looking at things and no other way could fit in with that.’
‘Were they cruel?’
‘Not cruel as in cruel, but strict and inflexible. One of them was a witch. She always picked on my clothes, saying they were too tight and so on.’
‘Typical.’
‘I avoided her like the plague. But I was without my parents, and that alone made it hard for me to cope.’
Laila sits up. ‘Marietta, remember the first day we met, you said you would tell me about your situation, you know, about how you came to Adelaide? You never did.’
‘I know, I know, I wanted to, but you had the wedding to prepare and we were having such a great time choosing your gown, the cake, discussing your hairdo—I didn’t want to spoil the mood.’
‘Oh, Marietta, it would have been okay. Tell me, tell me now.’
‘Let’s go back to my caravan and I’ll tell you over coffee.’
‘Is this new?’ Laila asks, pointing to an ink drawing of a possum hung on the wall of Marietta’s caravan. ‘Love the frame.’
Laila now recognises all of Marietta’s hand-drawn pictures.
‘Yes, finished that two weeks ago.’
‘Did you get it framed at the shop in town, you know the one behind Fred’s mini-market?’
‘Yes, nice, isn’t it? And not too expensive either.’
Marietta pours hot water into the mugs and brings them to the bedside table. Laila is already plonked on the bed. Somehow it’s always more comfy to talk here.
After leaving the orphanage, Marietta begins, she got a scholarship to study in a teacher’s college. When she graduated, she found a job as a teacher in Manila. The job was interesting but the pay miserable. Still, she saved ruthlessly, wouldn’t spend a cent on anything unless it was really necessary. She’d learnt that from the years of being deprived in the orphanage. It was as if she knew trouble was just around the corner.
A year into the job, her nightmare began. The assistant school principal started making advances towards her. She resisted and shunned him, to no avail.
‘He was lecherous. Out-of-shape body, balding, skinny legs. Yuk!’ Marietta winces.
As he occupied a senior position, nobody believed her side of the story. It escalated and became such a scandal that her only recourse was to resign.
It was during this time that she learnt about an agency that purported to assist Filipinos to migrate to Australia. Desperate, depressed and frightened, she signed up with the agency without checking them out. Things happened at lightning speed after that. She had just enough time to go home to Baybay to say goodbye to her relatives before returning to Manila and boarding the ship. She had put her entire savings towards the agency fees.
But instead of arriving in Australia, they ended up in Jogjakarta in Indonesia.
‘Oh my God,’ Laila says. ‘You must have been terrified.’
‘We freaked,’ Marietta says. ‘We were expecting to see Australian faces speaking English—instead we heard these strange-looking people speak another language.’
The agent took their passports, blindfolded her and Rose, another Filipino girl she had made friends with on the ship, and took them to various places in a van. They didn’t know where they were, who their captors were or what lay ahead. They eventually found themselves locked up in a tiny room with no windows.
Laila covers her mouth with her hand.
‘It started then. The pimp who’d bought us forced us to have sex with him. Then, after that, we had to work as prostitutes. He took all our wages, just gave us food and shelter.’
Laila grabs Marietta’s hands. ‘Oh God.’
Marietta looks out the window. ‘It was horrible. I thought about killing myself several times. But something gave me the strength to endure it and go on.’
Three months into the ordeal, Rose and Marietta started planning their escape. They did as they were told and did not cause problems, and the pimp eventually put them on ‘good behaviour’ and gave them a small cut of their earnings. Over time, he gave them other privileges—time out, small outings for meals, shopping, and so on.
‘We saved every penny. I only had three tops and two skirts and wore them for the whole year.’
They were seriously plotting by then. Rose found people in Jogjakarta who had contacts in the Australian High Commission, who were able to help them with their migration applications to Australia. By various manoeuvres, they recovered their passports after six months and escaped the brothel soon after.
Laila sits up, gives Marietta a big hug. ‘You’re an amazing woman.’
Marietta wipes away her tears. ‘Sometimes I can’t believe how we survived it.’
‘So what happened to Rose?’
‘Rose went to Darwin. She’s got relatives there. She’d planned to go there in the first place.’
‘You still in touch with her?’
‘Yes. We write to each other lots. She’s working as a nanny now.’
‘Why did you choose Adelaide?’
‘I didn’t. The Indonesian friend who helped us escape knew the owners of a sweatshop in Adelaide, and they could give me work immediately. I took it.’
‘What you must have been thinking when you arrived in Adelaide! Another scam maybe.’
‘Yeah, I was holding my breath. My God! The big difference was that I had my passport in my own hands throughout the flight to Australia.’ Marietta clenches her fists.
Laila stays silent.
/> ‘The sweatshop was awful too, but nothing compared with the brothel.’
‘Sewing clothes? I’ve heard some awful stories.’
‘Yes, sports clothing. God, my hands, my back. In Wingfield.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘The north-western part of Adelaide.’
‘Was that where you met Peter?’
‘Yes. It was our lunch break. I was at the deli buying my iced coffee. I was queuing up behind him, and he dropped his food on my skirt.’
‘Hah.’ Laila laughs.
‘I took one look at him and knew he was the one.’
‘Aww…’ Laila smiles. She hugs Marietta again.
12
EVERYONE AT THE PUB is talking about the match this Saturday. Adelaide Crows play the Brisbane Bears. It’s been a wretched season for the Crows, one thrashing after another. The prediction is that it will be yet another walkover. But Jim is hopeful. Things can turn around, the way his life has.
Jim walks towards the row of fruit bins, undoes his fruit bag, unloops it from his neck and empties the navel oranges into the bin. Half full now. Since the wedding, it’s taken him much less time to fill one bin that it did in the past. By the end of the week, he should be able to move on to the adjacent bin.
After lunch, he picks for another three hours before calling it a day. As he puts his ladder into his ute, he thanks his lucky stars. Two months into the marriage and he’s as content as a cat in a basket parked in front of a fire.
Jim starts his car engine and as the car speeds off, he recalls Peter’s speech as Best Man at the wedding reception. That Young Jim had done well for himself. Everyone had clapped and whistled. Jim followed with a toast to Laila. To my beautiful bride from across the seas.
Laila had looked stunning in her gown, her black hair standing out against the white of the fabric. He remembers the flush on her cheeks, the radiance on her face illuminating the entire room, glasses clinking like musical notes.
‘Yes!’ Jim screams. Adelaide Crows have struck a goal. He jumps up, punches his fist into the air, roars in excitement. ‘That’s the way, you bastards.’ The caravan vibrates.
When the ads come on, he peers at Laila who is clearing the table. ‘Hey, honey, come sit down and watch this with me.’
‘I want to clear the table first,’ she says.
‘Need a hand?’ he says, but stays seated.
‘It’s okay, I’ll be finished soon.’
‘Grab me another beer, will you, hon?’
Laila turns sideways and looks at him before setting down the dirty dishes in the sink and going to the fridge. Without saying a word, she hands him a can.
‘Cheers,’ Jim says, his eyes back on the TV.
He tries to calm down. Clinking and clanking sounds boom in the caravan. Laila is washing the dishes. He’s now on the edge of his seat. His belly jiggles each time he cheers.
‘Go Crows! You ripper!’
It is the second quarter and Adelaide Crows have outscored Brisbane Bears to set up a good lead. Things are looking promising.
He’s drinking his beer when Laila says, ‘Jim, I can’t get the stains out.’
‘Ah, look at that. Shocking. Settle down, settle down.’
‘Jim?’
‘Yep, what stains?’ He turns back to the TV. ‘Yes! You beauty! You ripper!’
‘These, on the frying pan.’ She continues scrubbing. Her hair falls over her face.
They had fried sausages for tea and she may have burned them on the pan. Oily things, sausages.
‘Try using some Jif.’
‘What?’
‘Jif, the cleaning detergent. Look under the sink. Bottle should be in there.’
He hears doors opening and shuffling sounds. Laila waves a yellow bottle in his face. ‘Is this the one?’
‘Yep.’
A Crows player hangs on to the ball, resulting in a free kick for the Bears. Simultaneous jeers and sighs explode from the crowd.
‘Shit, why did you do that? Giving them a free point. Bloody idiot.’
‘Jim, I still can’t get them off.’
Frustration still on his face, he says, ‘What, hon?’
‘The stains, on the pan.’
Jim tears his eyes away from the TV. ‘Try using the steel wool. Check under the sink.’
More shuffling sounds. After some time, he hears Laila dropping the pan on the drain board. She wipes her hands on the tea towel and slumps into the chair.
‘I give up. The pan is so hard to clean.’ She looks at Jim and then at the TV.
‘Go, Crows you can do it. Oh no, another fumble…he’s got it. He needs that!’ Jim tells the TV, then turns to Laila. ‘What?’
A beep sounds. The ads come on. One more quarter to go and Jim is on the edge of his seat. The Bears have come back and outscored the Crows in the third quarter but the Crows have managed to inch ahead by a small margin. Jim is sick with worry that the Bears might overtake the Crows.
‘The pan.’ She exhales air, points at the sink.
Jim goes to the sink and picks up the pan. The base looks stained and smudged. He brings it close to his face and scrutinises, rubs his index finger on it.
He shakes his head. ‘Honey, this is a non-stick pan. You’re not supposed to scrub off the black surface. That’s the non-stick part.’
Laila goes towards him and takes the pan from him. She rubs the surface, then lets out a sigh. ‘Oh no, I have ruined it.’ She goes back to the chair and sits down, near tears. ‘What am I going to do?’
Jim goes to her side and hugs her. ‘It’s okay, we’ll get another one.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’
‘I had no idea what you were doing.’
‘I told you, Jim.’
‘I know, sorry. I just wasn’t looking at what you were doing.’
Laila places her face in her palms and sobs.
‘Hey…’
‘I can’t do anything right.’
‘It’s okay.’
‘No, it’s not. It is a wedding present from Marietta and Peter.’
‘Big deal. It’s just a pan.’
‘It wasn’t just a pan. It was special. It was from Marietta.’ She glares at him.
‘Anyway, didn’t you say that the pan was too precious to use, that you were going to keep it?’
‘I know, I know. I was planning to but after a while I thought, might as well use it now. Oh no, what am I going to do?’
‘Plenty of similar pans at Woolworths. I’ll get one tomorrow.’
‘No, I don’t want another pan.’
Jim rubs her back, but he can’t tear his eyes from the TV. Laila buries her face in his shoulder, clings to his collar.
‘I feel so stupid. How was I to know? I’ve never used a no-stick pan before,’ Laila says, frustrated.
‘It’s non-stick, hon, not no-stick,’ Jim says, peering at the TV.
‘See,’ she says, lifting her head, ‘even you think I am stupid.’ She kicks the legs of the table.
The last quarter ends with Crows winning.
‘Yes, you ripper. I knew you could do it.’ Jim screams, stands up, punches his fist, then immediately sits down again, trying to subdue his elation. ‘What? What?’ he says, forcing himself to calm down. ‘Oh, babe. Of course I don’t. It will take time for you to learn these things. Don’t worry. It’ll be okay,’ he says, excitement still racing in his eyes.
‘Everything is so different in Australia. So many new things to know, to remember. Seems like I’ll never be able to learn.’
‘You will, hon, you will. Just a matter of time.’
Jim pulls the quilt up to his neck and tightens his arm over Laila. Her eyes are closed and he can tell from her heavy breathing she’s drifting off to sleep.
Crows winning was such a treat. They have broken their losing streak, just as he’d predicted. The match plays over and over in his head, the good moves, the unforgettable moments, the final thrill of the win.
/> What seems like hours later, he falls asleep. Within moments, he hears a gasp. He opens his eyes to find Laila rubbing her neck and tossing her head from side to side.
‘No, no, don’t please,’ she cries, her eyes closed but eyebrows puckered, her voice shrill. ‘Please, please!’
Jim gently nudges her on the shoulder. ‘Laila, what is it? What’s the matter?’
Laila opens her eyes, her face contorted, mouth open as if she is about to say something but can’t find her voice. She looks at him, then around the caravan. She leans towards him and clutches his arm. ‘Oh Jim, I had such a terrible dream.’
‘What? What did you dream?’
She brushes her hair from her face. ‘It was horrible. I dreamt I was working in the kitchen in a restaurant and I had to wash a huge pile of dishes. I kept on scrubbing the frying pan with the non-stick thing, you know. I scrubbed until the black surface was gone. When the manager came and saw me doing it, she was so angry, she took the pan and hit it against the wall. Again and again. The sound was so loud and frightening. Then she lifted the pan and came after me, wanting to hit me with it. Her eyes, they were evil. I tried to run, but my legs wouldn’t move. That was when you woke me up.’ She tightens her grip on his arm and sobs. ‘Oh Jim, it was so horrible.’
‘It’s okay, babe, it’s just a dream.’ He nuzzles her hair until her chokes subside. His hand still in her hair, he hears the first twitter of birds outside. Through the little window facing the bed comes the early shades of dawn, washing the caravan in pearly tones. He imagines the sky outside lightening, colour and definition slowly forming on the riverbank, the waters, the plants in front of his caravan.
Soon, the outlines of the caravans and the office will be visible as another day breaks. A faint smell of shampoo wafts in through the window, followed by the patter of footsteps. It must be his neighbour Greg whose early rises and trips to the showers are a permanent feature of the mornings.
Jim looks at Laila, plants a kiss on her eyebrow. Then he turns over and shuts his eyes to try to squeeze in another twenty minutes of sleep.
13
AGAIN AND AGAIN THE frying pan invades her sleep. In her dreams, black stains blind her vision or rain down on her. The clanking of the pan as it hits the wall, the shrieks of the restaurant manager, boom in her sleep. She moans and groans, tossing and stirring, drifting in and out of consciousness. Half asleep, Jim will reach over and rub her back, sometimes for minutes until his hand falls limp and sleep takes him over.
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