by Steve Hawke
They get back to work and run through Bullfrog Hole a couple of times. They are still working out the arrangements for this. Tich has to sit out, except for her harmony in the chorus. Janey has never been there, but from the way she sings Dancer’s lyrics, you could swear it is her own special place. They can feel the song coming together.
‘Not bad for our first real session, hey guys,’ is Janey’s verdict.
‘Not bad,’ Jimmy agrees. He looks at Dancer. Which one of them is going to ask the question? Dancer does it. ‘What about your song Janey?’
‘Give me a chance. Let’s just do the instrumental for now.’
So they do.
It might be January, but it hardly seems like holiday time for any of the Jirroos. Apart from anything else, it is still dry as a bone, which is the subject of increasing talk around town. No lazy days watching the rain. No casual evenings of backyard music and Broome parties.
Col has set up his drum kit so that Buddy can practise on it. Mary is giving Tich a crash course on her percussion instruments, and Eddie and Little Joe both work with Janey on microphone technique. The kids keep holding off a full-scale backyard rehearsal for the adults, but they have a couple of jams to start getting familiar with the amps and speakers.
Planning and preparations for the concert continue apace. Ally comes up with the idea to let people set up stalls. ‘They can sell anything they like: tucker, crafts, whatever. They can pay for the stalls, or make a donation from their takings. Then we can charge to come in to the stalls as well as the concert.’ In no time at all she has a dozen people promising to take up stalls, organised a roster for the gate, and got a host of other little things under way.
Andy lines up a big flatbed tray that he can tow in as a stage. Eddie talks the local sound guy into donating his big outdoor speakers. Little Joe has ensured there will be a good line-up of local bands and musicians as well as the Dreamers and the Barefoot Kids.
January is a quiet month in Broome, and once word gets out that there’s going to be a Save Eagle Beach concert, there’s something to talk about and look forward to. A buzz is starting to happen.
The kids keep practising. But Janey is struggling to find the lyrics for her song. It is driving her nuts. On the afternoons when there aren’t other things that need doing after band practice, she wanders along the beach with a notebook and pen. She sits on the beach trying to wrestle the phrases she has into the right shape, trying to find others to fill the gaps.
The others know exactly what is going on, and are almost as scared as she is at the thought that they won’t have the song she has promised.
The third time she wanders off like this Jimmy and Dancer follow her down, and plonk themselves on either side of her. The three of them sit on the beach looking out over the water for a little bit, before Jimmy nervously asks how it’s going.
She makes a face. ‘Not very well.’
‘D’you want to show us what you’ve got?’ asks Dancer. ‘Maybe we can help.’
She shakes her head. ‘It’s not fair, you guys just dream up whole sets of lyrics out of nowhere.’
‘Yeah,’ says Jimmy. ‘It’s the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me.’
‘What about you Dancer?’ Janey asks. ‘How did you get Bullfrog Hole?’
‘It’s too hard to explain. I wasn’t trying to make it happen like you are, but it didn’t just come to me like Jimmy. All these things were floating around in my head. Like, I had to put them all in the right shape, but somehow it was easy, I was on such a high.’ He smiles to himself, then adds, ‘Want to know why I was so high?’
‘What?’ asks Janey, intrigued by the tone in Dancer’s voice.
He tells them about that few minutes he spent alone with his father at Bullfrog Hole, when Andy told him about his mother, and how she dreamed him there, how it is his Unggurr, his spirit place.
When he has finished his story Janey has tears in her eyes. She leans across and gives him a hug. ‘Why didn’t you tell us before?’
‘There was a fair bit going on when we got back,’ he grins at her. ‘Besides, it’s like Dad said to me up there, the time’s got to be right. Quiet, like this. I think about it a lot. I feel different somehow, just knowing about it, and having it inside me. It’s good.’
She almost hugs him again, but settles instead for a friendly punch on his arm. ‘Solid again Dancer.’
Dancer gets up. ‘Come on then Jimmy, us natural geniuses better leave her to it.’
‘Thanks guys. I’ll get there.’
Janey stares at her notebook with its jumble of phrases as the other two head back up the beach. And she starts to see a shape. She turns her head, scanning from Jiir’s headland out across the bay and round to the mangrove-lined point. ‘Can’t see the beauty,’ she murmurs, and scribbles the words down.
Teoh Tom intercepts Jimmy and Dancer as they are making their way through the dunes back to the shack, suddenly appearing out of the bush. ‘Your little brother there longa shack?’ he asks Dancer.
‘Yeah, you want to see him?’
‘All you lot.’
‘Come on then. Janey’s still down the beach though.’
‘No worries. Good girl that one. Sing like a bird, hey.’
‘Have you been listening to us?’ Jimmy asks.
‘Yeah, yeah. Very good you lot.’
They have reached the clearing where the shack stands. Tich looks up from her drawing, and Buddy from his drumming, surprised to see Teoh Tom with the boys. Tom hops from foot to foot, still with a big grin. ‘You lot havin’ singalong hey, up in town.’ The kids all look puzzled. ‘Singalong. Big mob. Makin’ money. That’s what old Johnny Bin Sali been tell me.’
Once they get what he means the kids can’t help laughing at Tom’s description of the concert, and Tom laughs along with them. ‘You gonna stop Al Steer, hey? Everybody gonna stop ’im?’
‘We’re going to try,’ says Dancer.
‘Johnny makin’ satay he reckon. Sell ’em an’ give you lot money for stoppin’ Big Al.’
‘That’s right,’ Buddy confirms.
Teoh Tom rubs his hands. ‘I got more better than satay. I got voodoo soup!’
‘Voodoo soup?’
‘Best one. All that Malay mob, they buy. All them old blackfellers, they know. Big dollar they pay too. Five dollar a bowl. Might be ten dollar. Everybody reckon Teoh Tom’s stew gottim love magic! Secret recipe!’
The kids can hardly stifle their laughter, but the old man doesn’t mind. ‘You tell Micky,’ he instructs Buddy. ‘Tell ’im pick me up that day now, take me there for that singalong an’ I might give him free one!’ He laughs madly at his own joke, and by now the kids are almost in fits.
‘I’ll tell him, old man,’ sputters Buddy.
‘Big mob money we’ll get for you lot, for stoppin’ that bad man.’
Suddenly his jovial manner has gone, as if he has reminded himself. He looks around at the kids. ‘He got danger that Steer. Bad blood from ’is father. We gotta save this ground from ’im. I told this little girl now,’ he points at Tich, ‘this ground got secrets, got power. Gunbun witch there longa mangroves. Jiir story belongin’ to you mob. Too much trouble.’
Two weeks to go. The committee meets in the backyard to check on progress, and everything seems to be shaping up beautifully. Bob’s friend Skye shows them the poster she is going to get printed; Big Al’s Garnet Investments logo with a red banning symbol stamped over it, plus the concert information added at the bottom.
Benefit Concert & Carnival
Featuring
THE BAREFOOT KIDS
Supported by the Dreamers and other local acts
Town Oval, Sunday 1st February, 2 pm to 7 pm
Food Stalls — Jugglers — Arts & Crafts
Entry: Adults $5, Kids $2
‘You’ve got us as the lead act!’ Janey sounds alarmed. ‘I thought we’d be supporting the Dreamers.’
‘No way,’ Little Joe tells her. ‘
We’re old hat. You guys are the talk of the town, and no-one’s heard you play yet. You’re making me jealous girl. The stars have to close the show.’
That night Janey shuts herself away in her room after dinner, and does not emerge. The next morning, after Eddie has gone to work and Ally has gone shopping, she calls the other kids over to her house. She is uncharacteristically shy as she gets her guitar and props a page in front of her on the table. ‘Some of the lines aren’t right yet. And it’s too long. I don’t think it’s going to work.’
‘Just sing it Janey,’ Dancer tells her.
Her voice is soft and hesitant. She fumbles a couple of times. She won’t look up from the page of lyrics. But she sings it through.
‘Shut up Tich,’ she says, when Tich starts applauding at the end.
She sneaks a nervous look at Jimmy. He is beaming as he gives her the thumbs up.
‘Awesome,’ Dancer tells her.
‘She’s blushing,’ Buddy laughs.
Janey lets herself smile. ‘Jimmy, you’ve got to work out some sort of bridge for where the mood switches.’
‘Yeah, we can do that.’
‘Hey, I’ve got something to show you too,’ Tich interrupts. ‘Hang on.’
Tich scurries over to her place and comes back with the drawing she’s been working on. She puts it on the kitchen table, next to the lyrics. She has drawn Manburr the ghost crab on a circle of yellow, surrounded by a larger circle of footprints. ‘That’s for us, for the Barefoot Kids.’ She gabbles out her explanation. ‘I was going to do Jiir, but Big Al’s got his silly sign that looks like an eagle, so I did Manburr instead. Mum said she can put it on T-shirts for us, if you like it.’
‘I love it Tich,’ Janey tells her.
‘I can’t believe this is all happening.’ The beaming smile has not left Jimmy’s face.
Dancer and Jimmy convince Janey that they have to start rehearsing with the electric gear and amplifiers. She agrees, as long as they hold back her new song until they’ve done some more work on it on their own.
That evening, as soon as Col and Eddie are back from work, they set up in the backyard. Buddy is at the back with Col’s drums. Dancer and Jimmy have electric bass and guitar. Janey is using one of Eddie’s acoustics with a pick-up mike plugged in, and Eddie has improvised a pick-up for Tich’s ukulele.
Eddie runs them through sound checks from his mixing desk. ‘Okay?’ he asks at last. The kids nod, and look at each other nervously. Janey gives Jimmy the nod. ‘One, two,’ he counts, and they launch into Bullfrog Hole.
They only get a few bars in before Dancer messes up the timing on a bass line and it fizzles out. Little Joe is about to say something, but Eddie shushes him. They start again. It’s not a perfect rendition, but it’s not bad either, getting smoother and stronger as they go. Dancer watches Andy as he plays. His father is sitting next to Bella, absolutely still, with the slightest of smiles. He sees Bella squeeze Andy’s hand.
Janey has given the grown-ups strict instructions. No-one is to say anything or do anything until they have finished the two songs. But the kids can see the nods and whispers as they pause briefly. Then Tich picks up her ukulele, and they count into the Jiir song. It is a slower number, and a bit more testing, but they push on through a couple of mistakes, and there is no denying the sweet, slightly mournful power of it.
The adults burst into applause — except for Little Joe, who just stands there shaking his head in admiration. When he sees Jimmy eagerly watching him for a reaction, he winks and breaks into a broad smile. Tich’s grin is almost splitting her face as she does a flourishing bow to acknowledge the applause. Everyone cracks up laughing at her.
The kids are on a high as they unplug their instruments. They know it’s a biased audience, but they can tell it is working. ‘Brilliant, kids,’ Eddie tells them.
Ally just has to ask, ‘Janey, when are we going to hear your song?’
Janey looks sheepish. ‘I only finished the lyrics last night. We’ve still got to do some more work on it.’
A few days later they did Janey’s song for the adults. It went down a treat. There was no question, it would be sung as a straight solo by her.
Once the ice was broken the kids were happy to have the grown-ups’ input. Indeed, there was something wonderful about talking music, playing with ideas, trying things out as equals, as fellow musicians. The arrangements and the performance improved rapidly with this help, and a growing familiarity with the electric gear, as the kids practised like demons.
The kids come across more evidence of Big Al’s wrath when Dancer and Buddy do the rounds of the shops in Chinatown, asking to put the concert poster up in their windows. One after another they get refusals — some downright rude, some polite, some embarrassed — until they get to the bookshop, where the owner Wendy is having a cup of tea and a smoke at a little table outside the entrance.
‘Hey kids. Is that posters you’ve got there Dancer?’
‘Yeah, for the concert.’
‘Can I have half a dozen?’
‘Many as you want. No-one’ll take them.’
‘Mack’s been putting the word out. Says Big Al’s going to boycott any business putting it up. Not that I’ve got much to worry about,’ she laughs. ‘I doubt Big Al’s read a book in his life.’
She helps them put two in the window facing the street, and another in the side window, and promises to put the others up elsewhere. ‘How’s your band shaping?’ she asks. ‘Am I going to like it?’
‘You better,’ Buddy tells her.
If only they knew just how angry and frustrated Big Al was, the kids would have been delighted. Nothing was happening for him. Georgie was keeping him informed all right, but none of the news was good. As Bob had discovered, the approvals committee was indeed getting nervous.
Then Georgie had come to tell him that the committee ‘want you to come along and answer a few questions. The protestors have got the ear of a couple of them. But don’t worry, they haven’t got the numbers.’ That’s when he exploded, shouting at Georgie that this was not what he was paying him for; this was not how it was supposed to go.
The lawyer kept telling him to hold his nerve and be patient, but still kept sending him bills. His station managers were ringing in reports of dams and bores drying out, and high mortalities for this year’s calves. He was bleeding money!
When he walked through the dining room at the Bay View one morning and heard a couple talking about the forthcoming concert over their breakfast, he almost threw a fit.
21
THE NIGHT BEFORE the concert Jimmy wanders over to Janey’s place. Nerves are taking over from the excitement and anticipation of the last month and he is looking to calm himself down; maybe a quiet jam or something like that.
But when he goes into Janey’s room and sees a bulging suitcase on the floor, another one almost full on the bed, and piles of clothes and junk scattered about, he just feels miserable. She smiles weakly. ‘How am I going to fit it all in?’
‘I’d just about forgotten you were going away, we’ve been so wrapped up in the concert.’
‘Me too, thank God.’
‘I can’t believe you’re taking it so quietly.’
‘I made a deal with Mum and Dad, remember.’
‘Yeah, I know, but it’s like … I don’t know, like you’re not even worried about it any more.’
She sits on the bed. ‘Want to know what I really think Jimmy?’
He sits on her desk, ‘Course.’
‘You mightn’t like it.’
He looks at her sharply. ‘Why?’
‘I’m scared as hell about going away and being on my own, but …’
‘But what?’
‘Well, for a start — and don’t you tell anyone this — I was absolutely shit scared by what Big Al did that day.’
‘Yeah, who wouldn’t be, but all you have to do is make sure you don’t do anything that drastic again.’
‘There’s something
else, but you won’t understand.’
‘Try me.’
‘One part of me’s really looking forward to it Jimmy. I want to see things, and learn things. I’m not sure if I want to spend my whole life in Broome.’
Jimmy’s face crumples as she speaks and he turns away from her. The words feel like a personal insult to him, to the special friendship they have. But Janey won’t back away now she has come out with it.
‘If it wasn’t for Big Al and the resort, and everything that’s happening, I’d be almost happy about going. But I feel terrible about that, like I’m running away.’
Jimmy is struggling to hold back his tears. ‘The rest of us sure as hell won’t be able to stop him without you. You’re the brains of this turnout Janey.’ He springs off the desk, and almost shouts, ‘And what about the band? Just when we get started, you bugger off!’
‘We’ve got tomorrow Jimmy.’
‘Tomorrow should be the best day of my life. My first gig. Our first gig. All I’ve ever wanted, playing in a band at a big concert. And now you tell me it doesn’t mean anything.’
‘That’s crap. That’s not what I said, and you know it.’ She grabs him by the shoulders, makes him look at her. ‘Don’t you go all sooky on me cuz. Tomorrow we’re going to play like we’ve never played before.’
Broome loves a party, and by a combination of good luck, good planning, and good timing, the Jirroos and their allies have done everything right to take advantage of this. School is about to start up again. All the families who’ve been away for the holidays are back. It’s been a long, hot, devastatingly dry spell. The town is in a mood to let its hair down before settling into the routines of the year ahead.
It is a mad morning of last minute details and preparations. From midday the stall holders are allowed into the roped off area to start setting up. All the ones who had promised, and a heap they didn’t know about, start rolling up.