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Barefoot Kids

Page 15

by Steve Hawke


  The kids — except Buddy, who has gone off with Micky — do a tour, their excitement growing. There are a dozen different food and drink stalls. Johnny Bin Sali is setting up his pots of satay sauces. May Hamaguchi is running the sausage sizzle and her old man Kevin is busy buttering rolls. Skye and some friends are selling home-made organic ice cream.

  They check in with Ally and Mary at the gate. ‘It’s looking good kids,’ Ally tells them. ‘There’s a vibe already.’

  On that note Micky drives up tooting the horn of Little Joe’s ute. Buddy and Teoh Tom are in the back, trying to keep a huge drum and themselves upright as Micky jerks to a halt. Teoh Tom is grinning wildly, dressed up in his Sunday best, which means a brand new white singlet to go with his usual fluorescent shorts.

  ‘You want to give us thirty dollars now, or make a donation later?’ Ally asks Tom.

  ‘Thirty dollar! That all this lot robbers givin’ you!’ Teoh Tom exclaims, looking indignantly in the direction of the stalls.

  ‘That’s the fee if you pay now Teoh.’

  He leans into his drum, sniffing deeply, then kisses his fingers like a chef. ‘Voodoo soup girlie,’ he tells Ally sternly. ‘You see me later. I give you hundred dollars, maybe thousand dollars. Everybody buy my soup!’ Ally waves them through with a laugh.

  Ally has to start letting the public in a quarter of an hour early. The kids of Broome have turned up en masse, two-dollar coins at the ready. The crowd is already a good size when Little Joe climbs up onto the stage and tests the mike on the PA system.

  ‘Thanks for coming folks. You all know why we’re here today. But this is a concert, a concert and a party, so we won’t be doing speeches and such like. Wander over and see Bob and his helpers at the stall there if you want to know more about Eagle Beach, and what Garnet Investments has planned for our little piece of paradise.

  ‘There’ll be a few acts up here to keep you happy. I’ll be back up at about five with the Dreamers. And at six o’clock, you can hear the Barefoot Kids for the very first time. This is all down to them folks. In the meantime, have a feed — go easy on the voodoo soup all you old fellers — and have a good time. Here’s the Barry Brothers from Beagle Bay to get you started.’

  He claps the two brothers onto the stage, and they launch into a string of country and western favourites. The party is under way.

  The Dreamers are finishing the last song of their set. The sun is getting low and the searing heat of the day is starting to fade. The kids are waiting behind the stage with their Manburr T-shirts on. They don’t even want to look at each other, let alone speak.

  The applause starts. Eddie is first off stage. He gives Janey a quick, ‘Go girl,’ and races for the mixing desk. He is not leaving this job to his offsider.

  Andy jumps down. ‘Sure you don’t want to use this?’ he asks Dancer, offering his bass. ‘No Dad, I’m used to your old one.’

  ‘Okay then.’

  Col gets down, then lifts Tich up onto the truck tray, with a hug on the way, and whispers to Jimmy, ‘You’ll be right son.’

  They follow Tich up and stand behind the stack of speakers, listening to Little Joe.

  ‘They’re the talk of the town, and I’d like you all to welcome them for their debut performance … Introducing the Barefoot Kids!’

  He gestures to the side of the stage and steps away from the mike as they file on with the crowd cheering.

  Tich waves to some school mates in the front row.

  Buddy takes his seat and twirls his drumsticks, grinning away.

  Dancer stands calm, ready, the big bass guitar looking comfortable in his hands. He looks out and sees Andy take a seat next to Eddie at the mixing desk, the rest of the Jirroos clustered around them.

  Jimmy bends over his guitar, checking the tuning, scared to look up.

  Janey stands in the centre, her eyes closed, absolutely still.

  As the applause dies down a familiar voice calls from out beyond the ropes, ‘Roo Girl’s got stage fright.’

  Janey smiles to herself. She opens her eyes, turns to Jimmy beside her, and nods. He launches into the lead break of the Jiir song. The others follow him in. Suddenly he is okay. The nerves are there, but not in charge, as he starts to sing.

  I came from the north, gliding out of the sun

  In the time long ago

  Spiralling down on the wind, swooping down low

  As he gets to the end of the opening chorus, he realises his voice is not going to fail him. He looks up, sees the quiet, attentive sea of faces out there, and glances across to Janey as she joins him in the verse. The song comes out better than they could have imagined, could have hoped.

  When it comes to an end there are a few moments of silence as the crowd absorbs the feeling. Then all of a sudden there is wild applause. They look sideways at each other, trying to keep their smiles under control, their excitement in check. Jimmy glances at Little Joe at the side behind the speakers, applauding madly like everyone else, and stops trying to keep the triumphant smile from splitting his face.

  Back at the mixing desk the grown-ups are on their feet. They are clapping wildly too, except for Buster, who stands there amidst the others with just a quiet smile, nodding his approval.

  When the applause fades, Janey steps back to the microphone.

  ‘Wow … thank you. Um … listen. We’ve only got three songs, I’m sorry. We’re a bit new to this. Jimmy wrote that one.’

  She has to wait for another burst of applause.

  ‘They’re all our own. We’re a bit young for love songs. We write about country. That’s what we love. This next one is from the river country. It belongs to Dancer, and his dad, but he lets me sing it.’

  She hadn’t planned this little speech. She doesn’t know where it’s coming from. She nods at Tich, who steps forward and rattles her poinciana beans. Jimmy murmurs, ‘One, two …’ and they play Bullfrog Hole.

  Dancer looks up as it finishes, and he can see the tears streaming down Andy’s face. As the crowd applauds, he raises a clenched fist above his head. Andy raises a fist in answer as Col puts an arm around his shoulder. Dancer looks across at Buddy; he has both arms raised, drumsticks pointing to the sky.

  The sun is setting, casting a softer light as Janey steps forward again. ‘We’ve wanted to make music ever since we can remember. But it took Big Al Steer and his mad plans to give us the nerve to do something about it. So at least we’ve got one thing to thank him for.

  ‘This is our last one. It’s about our special place. Thank you everybody.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘Save Eagle Beach!’ she shouts into the mike, then starts. It is just her voice.

  Where the pindan meets the ocean

  Where the mangroves line the creek

  Where the eagle flies in open skies

  The days are sweet at Eagle Beach

  The instruments join in.

  Sun’s a-rising, day’s a-calling

  We’re goin’ down to Eagle Beach

  Wading through the rocks and mud

  Barefoot kids got grey socks on

  Calling when they find a hole

  Crabs in the bag ’n’ more still to come

  Tide is turning, sea breeze rising

  Camp fire smoking at Eagle Beach

  Mum’s catching salmon out at the point

  Her trusty blue handline’s on fire

  Dad’s got a bluebone but says he will

  Match her before the sun gets much higher

  Sun gets higher, sand gets hotter

  Fish on the bite at Eagle Beach

  Nyami comes down from the dunes with a grin

  With a bani as long as he is

  Mimi’s got magabalas fresh from the vine

  They’ll be gone once the kids see what she has

  Heron’s stalking, Manburr’s hiding

  Jiir is gliding o’er Eagle Beach

  Day’s slowin’ down, babies sleep in the shade,

  Old men by the fire talking low

/>   Talking ’bout country, talking ’bout rain

  Singing songs of their time long ago

  Sun’s a-setting, full moon rising

  Time to feast now at Eagle Beach

  Fish curry bubbles in Mimi’s big pot

  Bani ’n’ salmon cook in the coals

  The smells on the breeze bring the kids running

  The sight of it makes stomachs growl

  Crickets singing, guitars strumming

  Nights are sweet down at Eagle Beach

  But

  There’s a big man who’s a-comin

  From the top end of the town

  His eyes are full of dollar signs

  When the money’s going down

  He’s on the prowl, he’s coming down

  Down to wreck our Eagle Beach

  He cannot see the beauty here

  Just wants the money in his hand

  He’ll slash and clear and cut because he

  Doesn’t know or love this land

  Tourist dollar, in his pocket

  That’s all he wants from Eagle Beach

  Kids and oldies, mums and babies,

  Uncles, aunties, you mob too

  We’ll fight to save our dreaming country

  If it’s the last thing that we do

  We’re goin’ down, we’re goin’ down

  We’re goin’ down to Eagle Beach

  Where the pindan meets the ocean

  Where the mangroves line the creek

  This land of crab and eagle

  It’s not his, it’s ours to keep

  The sun dips below the horizon and the sky glows as the crowd murmurs the final chorus with her.

  We’re goin’ down, we’re goin’ down

  We’re goin’ down to Eagle Beach

  Janey lifts her arms, looks around at the rest of the band, who lean into their mikes and sing too, as the crowd’s murmur gathers strength. Even Buddy shouts it out, mike or no mike.

  We’re goin’ down, we’re goin’ down

  We’re goin’ down to Eagle Beach.

  22

  AS THE PLANE landed in Perth Janey was still floating on the high of the concert. In any other circumstance the departure from Broome would have been painful. But the buzz was still so strong, and it was such a mad rush from the oval back home to grab her cases, then out to the airport, that there was no time for any feelings of melancholy to intrude. She and Jimmy both had face-splitting grins as they hugged and said their goodbyes. The only one with a tear in her eye was Ally, but she was also smiling hugely, like the rest of the clan, as they waved Janey off.

  It was not until she followed the other passengers down to the vast, impersonal space of the arrivals hall and the luggage carousels that it started to sink in. As she struggled with her two huge suitcases and guitar, looking for trolleys and signs and asking strangers for directions to the taxi ranks, she began to realise that she was alone in a strange, new place.

  Because she had changed to the late plane, no-one was meeting her at the airport. The taxi dropped her at the locked front gates close to midnight. She found the intercom button she had been told to look for, and a remote, tinny voice told her to wait there. She stood alone, waiting in the quiet, peering at huge buildings that were ghostly white in the dark. She looked up at the night sky that seemed to be missing most of its stars, and felt a streak of something close to panic rising in her guts.

  The boarding mistress — friendly but not talkative at this late hour — arrived and took one of the cases, while Janey lugged the other and her guitar. She lost all sense of direction as they trudged through the grounds, up stairs and along corridors, until she was shown through a door with a warning not to wake her room-mate.

  The other girl stirred as Janey fumbled her way to bed. She was too unsettled and too nervous about waking her to do anything but crawl under the covers, still in her Barefoot Kids T-shirt and skirt.

  The first couple of weeks are a whirl of new and strange experiences and conflicting feelings for Janey.

  At first everything is so unfamiliar she is not game to ask questions in class. Instead she talks to her teachers afterwards. With their help and some hard work she starts to settle in and finds she actually enjoys being stretched in the classes.

  As she starts to explore the library and the music school, she can sense new possibilities opening up, and realises why her parents have been so insistent on her coming down here. She can already see the chance to go further and higher here than she ever could in Broome.

  The uncomfortable uniform and the bad food do not worry her too much. But the endless rules and restrictions almost drive her crazy. She remembers how she used to complain that Ally was too strict compared to Mary and the parents of her friends; never again, she vows.

  She had expected to be homesick, and to miss all the family, but had assumed she would be able to fit into the school. She had never lacked self-confidence, had always been the one amongst the Jirroo kids — amongst the whole family — most able to find her way around the white world. But she senses that these girls are from another world again; St Brigid’s is a stately institution that attracts the daughters of many of the state’s Catholic elite.

  Things that she takes for granted, they regard as weird or inappropriate. And she just doesn’t get many of the things the other girls say or do, or the ways they behave. Half the time she feels like she doesn’t know what they are talking about.

  The fight to save Eagle Beach, the battle with Big Al, the concert, her song — the things that have dominated her life, her every waking hour it seems for the last three months — are irrelevant down here. There is no-one to talk to about it all. It feels like the flow of her life has been shut off like a tap.

  One night, thinking of home, she takes up her guitar and starts playing around, trying to pick out a melody that floats through her mind. She can’t quite get it to sound right. But as she fiddles, random phrases that are memories of Broome jump into her head and she starts to sing under her breath. It’s two weeks since she left, but it feels much longer.

  So absorbed is she that she doesn’t notice her room-mate Sal return from brushing her teeth until she glances up and sees her standing in the doorway in her pyjamas. She blushes, and shoves the guitar under her bed.

  ‘What’s that you were singing?’ Sal asks.

  ‘Nothing,’ Janey mutters, ‘just messing around.’

  ‘You play in a band, hey?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Sal points at the concert poster on the wall by Janey’s bed. ‘Is that you, the Barefoot Kids?’

  Sal and Janey have spoken little, each absorbed in their own thoughts and problems, and suspecting the other of being a snob. But all of a sudden, Janey finds the words bursting out.

  By the time the girls finally go to sleep, Janey has poured out her heart and her stories, holding back only the incident of her break-in at the Bay View. Sal has told her story too, and Janey feels like she has a friend.

  Janey has to explain the Jirroo family tree a number of times before Sal thinks she gets it. She is engrossed by the stories of the rain dreaming, Jiir and Manburr, and the battle for Eagle Beach. She is amazed that Janey is the lead singer in a band and has written a song, and enthralled by Janey’s account of the concert.

  Janey finds Sal’s account of her situation just as extraordinary. Sal lives in a big modern house in Applecross, overlooking the Swan River. Her parents are high fliers. Her father is a merchant banker who spends more time overseas and on the east coast than he does at home. Her mother is a lawyer, a partner at one of the big firms in the city. She travels a lot too, and works all hours of the day and night, and most weekends. There are days, sometimes a week or more, when neither of them is at home.

  ‘Mum was a boarder here when she was a kid,’ Sal tells Janey. ‘She reckons it didn’t do her any harm, and it’s better for me than them employing a nanny at home. She’s into tough love.’ Janey can hear the edge in Sal’s voice a
s she says this, a mixture of pride and resentment all at once.

  Everyone feels Janey’s absence, but none more than Jimmy. A couple of weekends into term he is restringing his guitar when Little Joe comes and sits down beside him. ‘Things are really starting to happen since the concert Jimmy. You wouldn’t believe how many people have told me how good the Barefoot Kids were.’

  Jimmy just grunts.

  ‘Big Al comes up before the committee in three weeks. We’re planning on having a demo outside the Planning Department.’

  Jimmy starts tuning the guitar.

  ‘Everyone’s expecting the Barefoot Kids to be there — doing your protest song.’

  ‘It’s Janey’s song. We haven’t got a band without her.’

  Little Joe speaks gently but earnestly to him. ‘When Col was away all those years, courting your mum, and Andy was on the skids, me and Eddie kept the Dreamers going. We got fill-in guys, played as a three piece sometimes. We even played with Georgie before he and Andy fell out. It wasn’t the same, but we kept the band alive. Because we knew they’d be back. Janey’d want you guys to keep it going, to be there at the demo. Wouldn’t she?’

  The four kids have a run-through down at the shack. Jimmy sings his and Janey’s songs, and Dancer does Bullfrog Hole. It doesn’t seem right without her, but they feel obliged to do what they can for the demonstration.

  Jimmy feels like he has been pushed into a corner. He knows their concert debut will be impossible to live up to, and this feels like a huge step backwards. And he is still, in his heart, embarrassed about his voice.

  An idea forms in his mind. The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself. It is for the cause. Janey would understand. She would agree.

  A week before the demonstration there’s another rehearsal down at the shack — or there’s supposed to be. Jimmy is running late. Dancer and Tich kill time. Buddy, who has ridden off to look for Jimmy, comes racing in, saying, ‘Look who’s come with him.’

  Pushing her bike up the path behind Jimmy is Kim.

  Kim hangs back by the old water tank while Jimmy faces the others, trying to work out in his own mind why he feels so bad about this if it is the right thing to do.

  He had not told the others of his plan. Until this morning he’d convinced himself there was no point in telling them until he knew whether Kim was up for it or not. Then he was going to say something when they got home from school, but somehow didn’t get round to it.

 

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