by Steve Hawke
A call from Jimmy brings her back to the everyday world. They’ve found a crab. Tich is stretched full length on her stomach in the mud at the base of a small outcrop of rock. She is probing the hole with her crab hook — a length of steel rod longer than she is, bent into a hook shape at the end.
Janey heads back towards them, watching Jimmy, who is standing there beside Tich, peering into the hole. The grey mud of the flats coats his legs almost to his knees. Out of nowhere, a line pops into Janey’s head: ‘Barefoot kids got their grey socks on.’
The shock of it stops her in her tracks. Nothing like this has happened to her before.
She knows what it is though. It’s the beginnings of a lyric for their tune. She half expects the next line to appear in her head, but nothing comes. After a few moments she calls, ‘Got him yet Tich?’
Tich grunts as she strains for an extra few centimetres, trying to manoeuvre the hook. Jimmy and Janey both offer to have a go, their longer arms might make the difference. But Tich ignores them, wriggling further in until her head almost disappears into the hole. Eventually she gets a grip and eases back. Carefully she draws the crab out until it is clear. She stands up, shaking the hook to drop the crab free. Her whole front, including her face, is grey with mud, but her teeth stand out white in a triumphant grin.
Dancer and Buddy have finished their run, working a chain of holes on the low-tide line, from the point round to the creek mouth. It would be just as quick to do it on foot, slogging through the mud, but Buddy always insists on doing it by canoe.
The canoe is an ancient home-made job of Andy’s, modelled on the kind that he and his brothers grew up with: salvaged sheets of corrugated iron, old planks for seats, all held together with wire and tar. The worst part is dragging it from the shack down to the waterline, but once afloat, it is surprisingly seaworthy.
Now they are paddling up the creek to the rendezvous with the other three, their thoughts drifting with the rhythm of the paddles. In the stern Dancer, like Janey, is remembering old Buster’s words about trouble in the land. Buddy’s question takes him by surprise. ‘Why does Uncle Georgie hate Dad so much?’
Dancer doesn’t answer, he’s trying to think what to say. Buddy stops paddling and turns to face him. ‘I mean, why would he tell lies about Dad drinking again?’
Dancer looks out over the mangroves, his eyes as evasive as his answer. ‘It goes back a long way Buddy — when we were little. I don’t know that much about it.’
Buddy won’t let the subject go. ‘It’s something to do with the car crash isn’t it — when my mum died?’
He gets no answer, and tries a different tack. ‘Dad talks about your mum, but he never talks about mine.’
‘Look! There’s the others.’ Dancer is relieved. He works the canoe round to face the shore and heads in to where Jimmy is down on his hands and knees, checking out a likely looking hole near the creek bank. It’s near the end of their run, getting up towards Teoh Tom’s camp.
Janey and Dancer compare catches as he deposits his pair in the hessian sack at her feet. Not bad, they agree; five in the bag, plus the one Buddy is bringing from the canoe.
All of a sudden Tich screams, shattering the quiet of the bush. Jimmy is so startled he jerks the rod and loses the crab he is probing for. He curses and whirls round to look accusingly at Tich. Then, like the others, he follows her stare.
Teoh Tom has appeared above them, standing spraddle-legged on the rock above Jimmy, waving his arms wildly. ‘Gunbun! Gunbun! Get away. You Jirroo kids keep away from here. Gunbun!’
Janey grabs the bag of crabs and starts backing away. But Buddy approaches the old man from behind, playing the fool, mimicking Tom, waving his crab around as he prances.
Dancer is signalling to Buddy to knock it off as Tom whirls around, snarling as he jumps down from the rock to confront Buddy. In a flash, Buddy turns his mimicry into a grand gesture, and he offers the crab to Tom.
Tom cackles, and snatches the crab from Buddy. His voice is still gruff as he snaps, ‘Go on. Get out of here. Gunbun place!’ But as he says it he dances a few steps, waggling the poor crab to make it dance too. The tension is broken. Only Tich jumps backwards as he waggles the crab at her.
The kids take off. Buddy looks back over his shoulder and waves. Tom is still watching him with a beady eye.
Jimmy, desperate to get the band session happening, convinces Buddy to leave the canoe tied up at the creek and come back for it tomorrow. As they wander back along the beach towards the shack Janey quietly hums to herself. Jimmy recognises their tune and stays within earshot. Her hum changes to words.
‘Barefoot kids got their grey socks on.
Crabs in the bag, and more still to come.’
Janey glances across and, as she expected, Jimmy’s eyes are smiling. No words are needed; they connect again. Even so, Janey plays it down. ‘It’s only a start. I’m not sure about the second line.’
‘More’ll come when we start playing,’ Jimmy reassures her. He is itching to get hold of his guitar as they swing off the beach and up the path to the shack.
With music on their minds, Janey and Jimmy do not notice the pair of crossed sticks lying on the path. Nor do Tich and Buddy who are behind them. But bringing up the rear Dancer almost treads on them, and calls the others to a halt.
Nyami Micky rises up from behind some low scrub close by. ‘Good lad Dancer. Just as well someone keeps their eyes out for signs. I thought I was goin’ to have to jump up and stop youse meself.’ He comes down and joins them. ‘You can’t go up to the shack kids. Bella’s sittin’ up there.’
‘But all our gear’s in there. We’re —’ Jimmy’s complaint is cut off by a look from Janey, who turns to Micky, asking, ‘She all right Nyami?’
‘Your mimi just needs to sit quiet for a while. She been thinkin’ about her old father since the necklace got lost.’
‘He was camping down here when he disappeared, wasn’t he?’ asks Dancer.
‘Bella’s dad? Yup. He come down from Garnet Bay and was stoppin’ back here. Had his supper with Teoh Tom one night — and he was never seen again.’
‘Teoh Tom!’ Tich exclaims.
‘Yeah. He was just Tom back then,’ says Micky. ‘That Teoh’s like Philippine lingo for uncle, or old man. Him and Bella’s dad were mates.’
Micky picks Tich up and swings her onto his shoulders. ‘Come round to the car. I’ll run youse home, and pick up the bikes and guitars when I come back for Bella.’
‘And my ukulele,’ Tich pipes up.
‘As if I’d forget a ukulele!’ Micky pulls a face and screws up his nose at Tich’s muddy feet bouncing against his chest. ‘Come down and wash that mud off first though. Don’t want Little Joe’s ute gettin’ dirty now, do we.’
The thought of a little bit more mud making any difference to the battered old ute gets a laugh from the kids. As they make their way back to the beach, Tich asks, ‘Nyami, do you know what gunbun is?’
‘Whoo-oo-oh!’ Micky jumps in mock fright, making Tich joggle about on his shoulders. ‘Gunbun! That’s the mangrove witch! Little hairy one she is, like a monster.’
He lets go of Tich’s ankles for a moment then swings her down into a hug and plonks her on the water’s edge. As the kids scrub the mud off with handfuls of wet sand Buddy asks Micky if he has ever seen a gunbun. ‘Not me Buddy, but I know plenty people who have.’
Buddy watches Micky keenly as he says, ‘Teoh Tom reckons there’s a gunbun near his place.’
Micky raises his eyebrows. ‘So I’ve heard.’
Jimmy grins in the direction of his little sister. ‘Tich is scared enough of Teoh Tom, let alone witches and monsters.’
But Tich doesn’t appreciate the joke. ‘Shut up Jimmy. You would have been frighted too if you saw him first. He was just standing there all of a sudden. Like magic.’
Micky observes matter of factly, ‘Old Tom’s got magic all right. That voodoo magic — Filipino style.’ He has a private smile
as he adds, ‘Love medicine and all that.’
Heading to the car they have a glimpse of the shack. They pause to watch Bella for a moment. She is sitting on Buddy’s flour drum near the tank, staring at an old photograph.
Buddy and Tich run ahead to get the seats in the front of the ute. Nobody likes getting tossed around in the back when Micky is driving. When Micky climbs in he sees that Buddy has picked up Bella’s old photo album. ‘You be careful with that. Bella’ll skin you alive if it gets damaged.’
The starter motor screeches as Micky holds the key turned for too long. Buddy grimaces, then grabs at the album as the car lurches forward. In the back the others grip the sides of the tray. Jimmy shakes his head. ‘No way I’m going to let Nyami borrow my car when I get one.’
Dancer grins. ‘Reckon you could say no to him?’
As they chug along Buddy and Tich look through the album. ‘Are all these photos from the war?’
‘All that first lot,’ Micky replies.
‘What’s this plane?’ Buddy asks. He is pointing at a picture of an old DC-3 on a beach at low tide. Micky leans across to look and the car swerves. He returns his attention to the road. ‘That’s the diamonds plane.’
Buddy’s voice rises in excitement. ‘The one at Garnet Bay?’
‘You gottim. Old Jirroo took that after it crashed. He went up with the army mob when they were tryin’ to track them diamonds down. It doesn’t look like that now, I can tell you.’
‘But what about the diamonds?’ Buddy demands.
Micky chuckles. ‘Now that’s another story.’
‘Is that where Mimi’s diamond comes from? The one that’s lost?’
‘We reckon so. But nobody knows for sure.’
They have reached town by the time Buddy comes to a blank page with a pale patch where a photo has been removed. ‘Is that the one Mimi’s got with her?’ Tich asks.
‘Yep. You know what it is?’
Tich shakes her head.
‘It’s Old Jirroo himself, with Buster and Bella. They’re all lined up down there at the shack, smiling away. Buster’s about the same age Dancer is now, and I’d say Bella’s probably the same as Buddy.’ He pauses for a moment before continuing. ‘It’s the only one she’s got of her and her father.’
‘Did you know Bella’s daddy?’ Tich asks.
‘I took that picture, little one. Me and Buster were mates, right back then when we were little tackers. He was a good feller, Old Jirroo.’
‘What happened to him, Nyami?’
Micky glances across at her. ‘Nobody knows.’
He leaves the engine idling when he pulls into the driveway. ‘Get along now you mob. I’ve got to go back down and wait for Bella.’
7
1942
THE DAY AT Eagle Beach when Micky took the photo was the last time Buster saw his father. Jirroo had borrowed the camera from his sergeant. He had joined the army, using his local knowledge to help them map bush wells and springs as preparations were made for a possible Japanese invasion. He was on a few days leave before heading out on a patrol, and took Buster and Bella down to their old camp at Eagle Beach, with Micky tagging along.
The kids had to move into town when Jirroo joined up, and since then their little sister Maisie and their mum had been evacuated up to Beagle Bay mission with most of the people from the town reserve.
After Jirroo took off on his patrol, the Japanese advance gathered pace. Singapore fell, and a host of other islands. As they closed in on Java, Broome was filled with Dutch refugees, fleeing any way they could. Then one day Broome itself was attacked by six Japanese Zero fighters that strafed the airport and the sea planes anchored in Roebuck Bay.
Bella saw Jirroo just once more, a few weeks later. He turned up one morning at the mission hostel in town. Bella knew straight away that something was wrong. He was not in uniform. He looked tired and worried and seemed angry when she could not say where Buster was.
Jirroo led his daughter to the shade of a mango tree in a corner of the hostel yard. His face became softer, but still serious, as he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. ‘Listen my girl, I can’t stop now. I got a lot of business I got to get done. You tell Buster I’ll be here same time tomorrow. Tell him he’s got to wait ’ere for me, with you. And don’t you tell anyone else I been ’ere. Not yet.’
He looked around the yard to make sure they were alone before pulling a paper bag from his pocket. He delved into the bag and pulled out two small parcels, wrapped in paperbark. Pressing one into the palm of Bella’s hand, he whispered, ‘You look after this Bella. Always.’
Bella looked down at the parcel, full of curiosity. But when she looked up again to ask, Jirroo was on his way, slipping out the gate and out of sight.
Beneath the soft paperbark Bella could feel something hard. Carefully she peeled away the layers until she caught a glimpse of pearl shell.
She gasped. Like her father, she looked around to make sure no-one was watching. Bella had never seen one before, but she knew this must be a diamond stuck to the piece of shell. There had been enough talk around Broome about the shiny little stones that looked like glass.
All the news and gossip of recent weeks flashed through her mind as she stood there under the mango tree examining the stone: the glinting as it caught shafts of light amidst the speckled shade; the fiery light at its heart contrasting with the rich, milky sheen of the mother of pearl — and the strange pattern etched into it.
The first Bella had heard of the Garnet Bay incident was Sister Beatrice talking about ‘that poor baby’. The infant had survived three days on the remote beach but died before help could arrive from Beagle Bay, and was buried beside its mother in the dunes.
They had been passengers in a Dutch DC-3, one of the last to fly out of Java before the Japanese took over. Heading for Broome the plane encountered the Japanese Zeroes heading back to base after their raid on the town. One engine afire from the Zeroes’ attack, the plane managed an emergency landing in the shallow waters of Garnet Bay. The woman was shot in a strafing attack as the crew and passengers scrambled ashore and up the beach towards the dunes.
In the couple of weeks after this word started to filter down from Beagle Bay on the bush telegraph, mad stories about what the lugger men had found.
The authorities had ordered that all the pearling luggers and other large boats be evacuated to the south or sunk, to avoid them falling into the hands of the enemy — most people thought invasion was just a matter of time. The lugger men were an odd collection of drifters, beachcombers and small-time pearlers who had defied these orders and taken their boats to shelter in the bays and creeks on the Dampier Peninsula to the north.
The stories were all mixed up, but one or more of the luggers had sailed into Garnet Bay just after the survivors of the crashed DC-3 had been rescued. The men found all sorts of things in the wreck of the plane, but most of the talk was about the stones like glass.
Some of the Beagle Bay mob were at the lugger camp. There was lots of drinking, some happy talk, some fighting talk, and one of the lugger men was passing around the glass stones. He was so happy he gave matchboxes of the stones to the Beagle Bay people. One of the other lugger men got cranky about this, and told them they better keep their bloody mouths shut about it, or there’d be trouble.
Then came the news that the DC-3 pilot was being questioned by police in Perth. He had been given a ‘special package’ in Java that would be collected from him in Australia. He was saying that in the drama of the crash he had forgotten all about it.
‘Would you believe?’ Brother Gregory told Sister Beatrice with wide eyes, ‘It was a box full of diamonds! A Dutch bank sent them to Java when the Nazis were about to invade Holland. More than a million pounds worth they say!’
None of the kids had ever had anything more than a sixpence, and even that was a rare event. They had no idea of what a million pounds might be; but it sounded an awful lot.
S
oon the Broome police were on the case. One of the Beagle Bay men who came down on the mission lugger told them a policeman had been there asking everybody questions. He said everybody was saying those diamonds were just humbug. One old man reckoned they were purri purri — cursed.
Sitting at Eagle Beach with the photo in her hand, Bella remembers it all as if it were yesterday. She and Buster were in a lather of nervous excitement all that day and night, and the next morning, waiting for Jirroo to show up. They talked, and guessed, and made up stories. Micky knew something was up, but they didn’t tell even him.
The excitement turned to tension, then fear, as they waited all through the next day, and the next. When it became too much to bear, Bella confided in Sister Beatrice and convinced her to go to the police to report Jirroo missing. The nun got short shrift from the constable. ‘There’s no bloody mystery here Sister — excuse my French. He’s done a runner. Got the wind up him when he seen this war is for real. Be lying low somewhere out bush — I’d lay me life on it.’
Bella’s heart shrivelled at the man’s harsh words and she buried her face in the nun’s skirts.
A few days later Sister Beatrice managed to get the three children up to Beagle Bay on the back of a truck. Her mother shrank in fear when Bella showed her the pendant, and when Bella described that last, brief meeting with Jirroo, and his promise to return the next day, she wailed as if it was news of his death. Jirroo’s name was not spoken amongst the people for many years afterwards, as is the custom for the dead. Bella and Buster buried the pain and the mystery deep inside themselves.
One day, after the war was over, a letter came to the mission addressed to Jim Jirroo. It was opened by the priest and eventually came to Buster, along with the photographs that were enclosed.
Dear Jim,
I’ve never stopped wondering what happened to you. The blokes in the platoon all reckoned you’d deserted, but I kept telling them — right up to the day we were sent to Darwin — that you’d keep your word and show up. Whatever it was, you were probably better off than us lot. It was a hell of a war mate. If you get this letter, ask someone to write back for you, tell me how you are.