Long Gone the Corroboree

by Tony Parsons

  “Josh tell ya about his brother?”

  “No. I wasn’t aware he had a brother. Is there any reason I should know about him?” Steele asked.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Josh’s brother and me had a fight. It was over Lilly. Danny used to be her fella. I got charged with assault,” Davis said sourly.

  “Josh told me that I shouldn’t allow Lilly to come here when Billy asked could he bring her. He said you were jealous of anyone who looked twice at Lilly and might make trouble for me. When we finished the house, Billy asked me again and I said he could bring her so they came together. I didn’t come here to cause trouble for anyone. All I want is peace and quiet and no conflict,” Steele said.

  “I reckon ya might be a decent bloke, Clay. Billy sez ya are. He sez ya bought him a guitar,” Davis said.

  “Billy told me you smashed his guitar so I contributed a bit towards the cost of another one. Billy put up the other half out of what he earned working here,” Steele said. Steele thought he would throw that in so Davis wouldn’t consider him a soft touch.

  Davis hadn’t formed any such impression of Steele. The breadth of Steele’s chest impressed him quite a lot and he wondered if he’d been a sportsman of some kind. There was also the fact that Steele didn’t seem the least bit concerned about what he said to him. Davis was impressed. Some of his innate cunning came to the fore. “You remind me of someone,” he said. “You ever play big time league?”

  “Not league,” Steele said.

  “Some sport?” Davis persisted.

  “You wouldn’t know anything about that side of me unless you were into weight-lifting,” Steele said.

  “Ah, weightlifting.” There had to be something behind that chest. Steele might have been sick but he looked strong enough to hold a calf out to piss.

  “That was a while ago,” Steele said. “What’s worrying you, Dooley? You and Lilly have a row?”

  “I go a bit crazy when I’m on the piss and Lilly stirs me up. She throws her arse around at every fella that comes near her. I won’t stand for that sort of thing. I knew that she’d seen Danny Evans ’cos one of the brothers told me, so I gave her a belting,” Davis said.

  Steele shuddered. He had a very low opinion of men who mistreated women but in the interests of remaining neighbourly, he refrained from expressing it. He certainly didn’t intend to be drawn into any domestic wrangles involving Lilly and Dooley Davis. He thought he’d make that very clear while he had the opportunity.

  “I didn’t come here to be involved in anyone else’s domestic problems. I want peace and quiet so I can write my books. I don’t see how I can prevent Lilly from calling in without being rude. And asking her not to call would upset Billy. It’s obvious that he thinks a lot of his mother. I don’t mind Billy coming here to play his guitar. He can do that on one of the verandas. I’m planning to have Josh build me an outdoor studio near the old outhouse and Billy will be free to use it for a music room if he wants. Billy’s a good kid, Dooley. I’m hoping he’ll teach me how to fish. Properly, I mean,” Steele said with a smile.

  “Like I said, I think ya’re a decent bloke, Clay. Hope ya don’t mind me callin’ in like this,” Davis said as he got up.

  “No, I don’t mind.” But he hoped Davis would never come again. “Are you related to the old families who lived here?”

  “You mean the local Murri people? Yeah, I’m related to the Gubbi Gubbi. There’s not many of us left here who are. I’m one and Lilly is another. The old Gubbi Gubbi were nearly all wiped out by shooting and poisoning. And when the settlers weren’t doing that, they were screwin’ the young lubras. Lilly’s great grandfather owned this place,” Davis said meaningfully.

  “So I’ve heard. It’s been good to meet you, Dooley,” Steele said. He felt the shearer’s mood sliding towards anger and thought it was time to move him on. It would be preferable to keep the fellow onside, rather than off.

  As Davis drove away in his utility, Steele thought momentarily of his brilliant erratic father and of how he’d behaved when he was drinking. He’d belted his mother once too often and she’d left him and gone back to Britain. When his father’s liver had finally packed it in, his mother had stayed in the old farmhouse that was his grandfather’s legacy to her. His mother had endured a great many beatings for the sake of Camilla and himself, and because she’d once loved his father too much for her own good. His father had been higher up the social ladder than Dooley Davis but they were both drunks and wife beaters. Steele recognised that errant human behaviour wasn’t restricted to class. There were pisspots and wife beaters to be found in all classes, and he’d seen evidence of that. Some women would put up with a lot from a man.

  And he wondered whether Lilly had a breaking point.

  Steele dismissed Dooley Davis from his mind and went back to his writing and gardening.

  A few days later, concerned about the state of his finances, Steele went to the local branch of his Sydney bank and asked them to ascertain what credit he had. He was astounded when they handed him the slip which revealed how much money he’d accumulated recently from the royalties of his first three novels. The figure would have been considerably higher if the royalties from his fourth book had been included but he considered Australia was a much better place for the Salvation Army having received them. The ‘Sally’s’ were a great example of practical Christianity and never baulked from the tough options in war, or peace. He didn’t regret what he’d done and never would. But he was relieved by the balance on his account. The money he had to draw on would keep him for a considerable time and would certainly keep him going until he’d finished the next book.

  Steele left the bank in good humour and decided that he could well afford to spend some of his money on plants that would support his lifestyle. He called in at the local nursery and purchased a variety of fruit trees and vines, including passion-fruit vines, grape vines, avocadoes, paw paws and two new varieties of mangoes.

  When Steele reached home he planted out his purchases and watered them well before going in for dinner, happy that his garden was beginning to take form and his aim of greater self-sufficiency was being realised.

  It was the next evening when Josh Evans called in on his way home from a building job farther out.

  “Brought ya a couple of things, Clay. Thought ya might be able to use them. They were goin’ to be thrown away,” Josh said. On the back of his vehicle was an old garden seat and a heavy, concrete fish pond with a bird bath on a central stand. I put a couple of battens in to replace the broken ones and gave it a coat of paint for ya."

  “That’s very good of you, Josh. What do I owe you?” Steele asked.

  “Not a brass razoo. Well, maybe a beer if you’ve got one,” Evans said. “But we’ll get these things off first.”

  The garden seat was no problem but they had to slide the heavy fish pond down two thick slabs of timber that Josh had brought for that purpose. When they had it off the vehicle, they laboriously moved it into position beneath the big magnolia beside the house.

  “You might want to get yourself some goldfish one of these days,” Evans suggested. “Don’t know how they’d go with all the birds you’ve got here though. You might have to cover it with bird netting.”

  Hot and bothered from their efforts, the two men went into the house and Steele handed Josh a tinny of beer. He hadn’t told Dooley Davis that he had beer in the house because you never knew how drunks would behave if they knew there was grog to be had. Josh was a different matter entirely. He could drink a few beers and only become merry and prone to tell all manner of stories.

  It was while Josh was drinking his beer that Steele asked him about his brother. “You’re a dark horse, Josh. You didn’t tell me that your brother had a blue with Dooley Davis over Lilly.”

  “Who told you that they had a fight, Clay?” Evans asked.

  “Dooley told me. He came here,” Steele said.

  “Did he now? Yeah, well, I didn’t want ya to think I came fro
m a lowlife family ’cause I don’t. My people are okay, and apart from Danny, not one of them has ever got into any strife.” Evans took a swig of his beer then held it two handed. "Danny was nuts about Lilly. I told him to stay away from her after she went with Dooley but he wouldn’t. He and Dooley had a ding dong scrap. Dooley got charged with assault because he threw the first punch. Danny claimed self-defence and won. But there were no winners.

  “The thing is Lilly fancies men. She always did and that’s how she had Billy. Danny was just one of the blokes she was keen on before Dooley stepped in. Once he went to live with her, that was that. Danny would have Lilly tomorrow if Dooley wasn’t there. And she’d have him. She only stays with Dooley because she’s scared of what he might do to her if she left him. It’s not a good scene, Clay. My mother had a row with Danny and he won’t go near her now. He got real shirty because Mum didn’t want him to have anything to do with Lilly.” Josh dropped his head and Steele was left to infer why Josh’s mother didn’t want her son to have anything to do with Lilly Sanders.

  “I can understand why Lilly would attract men,” Steele said.

  “You’ve met her?” Evans asked.

  “Twice. She and Billy came here because she wanted to see the house. She brought me a fish and had a cuppa. And then, I saw her over her fence when I went for a walk up the road. I wished I hadn’t as she was scantily dressed and a car went by while I was talking to her.” Steele swallowed. “Some blokes would describe Lilly as hot,” Steele said.

  “Lilly’s hot all right. If you don’t want to tangle with Dooley, you should stay right away from her,” Evans warned. “She might do a bit of crowing if you slept with her, you being a big-time book writer and all.”

  Steele shook his head. “That’ll never happen, Josh. I was up front with Dooley and told him that Lilly and Billy had been here. No sense denying it. We had a civil discussion and I gave him a drink of tea and some biscuits. He was as good as gold.”

  “Bloody amazing,” Josh said.

  “I haven’t had any interest in women since I got out of hospital,” Steele said quietly. “Mind you, I hope the condition is only temporary,” he added with a hint of a smile.

  “Yeah, well, it’d be a bugger if it was permanent,” Josh said with a wide grin.

  “When you’ve had cancer, you can never be sure you’re cured. I’m never going to be involved in a relationship involving a wife and children because I wouldn’t want to leave them in the lurch, so to speak,” Steele said firmly.

  “Do you honestly think they’ll leave you alone?” Josh asked.

  “Do you mean women, or the world at large?”

  “I mean both. You’ve talked about havin’ a ritzy girlfriend, and others before her. I reckon there’s women in this area that would make a beeline for ya if they knew you were here. They’re not all bushy women around these parts, ya know. There’s some pretty bright women in this district. There’s artists and soil and marine scientists and some of them are good sorts. I reckon there’d be a few women here who’d be very keen to meet ya, Clay.”

  “I told you, I’m not looking for a relationship. I want to be left in peace to write my books and look after this place,” Steele said.

  Josh smirked. “And pigs might fly… but they haven’t yet.”

  “So far, so good,” Steele said.

  “It’s early days, Clay. People will talk and they’ll talk about you and this place. It’s only a matter of time before the local rag hears about it and comes here to do a story. And they’ll do a story whether you like it or not.”

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I’m not going to worry about things that might never happen. I don’t want any stress in my life. If you’d seen some of the things I saw on my overseas travels, you’d appreciate why I like this place so much.”

  “What’s up with all those mad buggers in the Middle East? There’s millions of them living on lousy country that’s not worth a couple of dollars an acre and you’d think that growing food and educating their kids would be their highest priorities, not blowing each other up,” Josh said.

  “Yes, you’d think so but there are lots of problems and no easy solutions,” Steele said.

  “I’ve got one,” Josh said.

  “One what?”

  “Solution.”

  “What’s that?” Steele asked.

  “Get the mad buggers playing cricket,” Josh said with a grin. “Ya notice that most of the trouble in the world comes from countries where they don’t play cricket. I say put a bat in their hand instead of a gun. It might make a hell of a difference.”

  Steele’s eyebrows lifted. “It might need a bit more than cricket, Josh, but the idea could have some merit.” And Steele’s laughter boomed, quickly echoed by Josh’s higher pitched cackle.

  Despite their vastly different upbringings, the two men got on well. Evans liked Steele because there was no pretence about him and Steele liked Evans because he considered him a genuinely good bloke who’d go out of his way to do a mate a good turn without expecting anything in return. Steele liked to think he could get on with almost any type of person and with people of any age. Whether it was an innate trait or a facet of his makeup that he’d striven to develop, the fact was, Steele could talk to anyone without putting on airs, and despite any difference in their respective IQs.

  A few days later, Steele had reason to believe that he had taken another step along the road to virtually a full recovery. And it happened in a quite unexpected fashion. There was quite a lot of land in the parcel that Steele had purchased along with the cottage. Between his dwelling and garden and Lilly’s property, was a large area of timber and bush that Steele had yet to explore thoroughly. On this particular day, Steele went looking for a couple of long branches to use as perches to entice more bird life into his garden. His search took him along the edge of the creek and further into the timber than he’d hitherto ventured. About two hundred metres beyond the big pool in which he swam, the creek widened still further. And it was there, just as he was about to leave the timber and move along the edge of the creek, that he saw Lilly Sanders. She was splashing around in the creek and when she stood up, she was completely naked. Steele stood transfixed. She was certainly not the first naked woman he’d seen but never had he seen one as uninhibited or with such an astonishing figure as Lilly Sanders. Water dripped from her beautifully firm breasts, the breasts of a well-developed girl. Then there was her beautifully-shaped backside, not to mention her long smooth legs.

  Steele felt the first flicker of desire he’d experienced for a long time. It was not desire for Lilly or for any woman he’d known but an awakening of that part of his body that had shut down during the treatment and which, up to now, he’d feared might be lost to him. Lilly had been the touchstone for this awakening because she was more of a woman than any he’d ever seen. He reproached himself for continuing to watch her yet he doubted that she would be concerned. From what he’d seen and heard about Lilly, she was proud of her body and would have been pleased that a man found her desirable. Any man. But he had no desire to test her reaction, so he melted back into the timber and returned to his garden. Notwithstanding his determination to stay aloof from women, the image of Lilly emerging from the creek stayed in his mind for a long time.

  That night, rain fell steadily and Steele experienced the pleasure of hearing the heavy drumming on his new iron roof. It was a sound that almost never failed to thrill bush people because rain was usually so desperately sought. Rain meant money. Rain meant crops and fat stock. And the rain that was falling now fell into Steele’s new gutters and into his two new tanks.

  It rained all that night and all the next day and Steele felt uplifted by it because it would boost his garden and newly planted trees. No amount of hand-watering was as good as rain. And the rapidly filling tanks meant his capacity to be more self-sufficient was increasing with every drop that fell.

  When the next morning dawned bright and clear, every leaf i
n Steele’s garden shimmered brightly in the early morning sun. Steele saw that all his recently planted trees, vines and vegetables were standing erect and seemed to have actually grown overnight.

  This first rain was the prelude to more rain and Steele sat on his verandas watching it fall on the voracious red soil. The sight of it filled him with intense pleasure because he recognised that rain was so important in the cycle of life. And to his life.

  When the rain finally stopped, Steele walked down to the bottom of his land and surveyed the swollen creek, as water streamed towards the larger river. It was a long while since he’d felt so alive and never before had he felt so in tune with his surroundings. Being so close to nature stirred that part of him that sought peace and contentment before anything else. Growing things mattered. Being independent mattered. It was these things that now made living so thoroughly worthwhile.

  Prior to coming to this place, Steele had known very little about plants, birds and animals. The kibbutz had taught him a little about growing things, but nothing about birds and animals. Now, the sighting of a new bird variety sent him scurrying for his notebook so that he could record its appearance.

  On his next trip to town, Steele was so inspired by the birdlife that filled his garden that he purchased a second-hand book on birds to help him identify his feathered visitors, and in a short time, he was able to differentiate between two similar varieties of rosella. It was a thrilling moment when he first identified a pair of the pale-headed variety which he hadn’t seen previously. He fitted up trays with bread, honey and millet seeds, and watched as more and more birds came to feed from them. Lorikeets, in particular, became regular visitors and the grey possums competed with the birds for the bread and honey, so Steele had to hang the trays from longer wires.

  Before long, the herbs he’d planted had grown so well that Steele was able to pick and dry some of them. Their aroma filled the kitchen and stimulated Steele to experiment with them in some of his cooking. After all his work, he felt it was rewarding to harvest his own food. The herbs were followed by tomatoes, lettuce, potatoes and spinach and then, by pumpkins, cantaloupes and water melons. The red soil was generous with its produce and there was no better feeling than to be able to walk down to the garden and pluck off enough ripe tomatoes for lunch and perhaps a melon for dessert.