by Cory Taylor
The guard on duty at the lock-up told me Stanley had been picked up at Shepparton railway station, trying to board a moving freight train at eight o’clock in the morning. Apparently he’d lost his footing and fallen in the attempt and that’s when he was spotted by the stationmaster, who detained him until the police arrived.
‘Is he all right?’ I asked.
‘He’ll survive.’
The guard’s name was Perkins. He was a paunchy, balding, milky-eyed man with a reputation as a heavy drinker. That described almost everyone in the Tatura camp, but in Perkins’s case drinking was as natural as breathing. He was like Matron Conlon, never truly drunk but never sober either. And like her he was everyone’s friend, particularly if you were in the position to offer him some enticement. When I called in at the lock-up to see him he told me Stanley was in solitary for at least three weeks for what he’d done.
‘Poor bugger nearly got away with it,’ he said.
I took out a bottle of Bryant’s rum with only an inch missing and offered it to Perkins.
‘I’d like to see him,’ I said. ‘I want to ask him a few questions.’
‘What for?’ he said, eyeing the bottle.
‘Curiosity,’ I said.
‘It’s not allowed,’ he said.
‘Nor is drinking on duty,’ I said. I gave the rum a shake so he could hear the sound of it slopping around in the bottle.
Perkins reached out his sizeable arm and wrapped it around my shoulder. ‘Enough said.’
When I showed up at the cells that night Stanley seemed unsurprised. He didn’t even acknowledge me to begin with. It was only after I’d handed him a packet of smokes through the bars and helped him to light one that he eventually started to talk.
‘What are you doing here?’ he said, sounding bitter.
‘I’ll go if you don’t want to see me,’ I said.
He turned away and kept staring at the tip of his fag as if it held some mystery for him.
‘You okay?’ I said.
He showed me the raw patches on his knees where he’d lost some skin.
‘What was the big idea?’ I said.
It was a while before he answered and then it was in a low voice as if he thought there might be someone listening.
‘No big idea,’ he said. ‘I just can’t stand the pointless waiting around.’
I told him I understood, but he looked at me coldly and said nobody like me could possibly have the first idea what he was talking about.
‘Why not?’ I said.
‘The minute I got to town it was all over,’ he said. ‘I should never have gone to town.’
‘But you knew that before.’
‘I forgot.’
He didn’t sound sorry for himself, just angry. I wanted to reach through the bars and take hold of his hand but I was scared that Perkins might come in.
‘Who’s Lily Tanaka?’ I said.
‘My cousin.’
‘How were you planning to get to Chicago?’
‘Run.’
‘How were you going to cross the Pacific?’
‘Swim.’
I visited Stanley a few more nights after that, whenever Perkins was on duty. All the money I won at poker I spent on rum and Camel cigarettes. When Bryant noticed how much I appeared to be drinking and smoking I told him it was for health reasons.
‘Doctor’s orders,’ I said.
I could tell he didn’t believe me, but it didn’t stop him selling me the stuff.
That same day I’d had a letter from May telling me the real reason she’d left the farm in such a hurry.
I’m three months pregnant. I should have told you before now, but I was too scared.
Numb with shock and apprehension, I’d been carrying the note around all day in the same pocket where I kept Stanley’s report, as if the one had the power to cancel out the other.
‘What are you doing after the war?’ Bryant asked me.
‘I’ve got no idea,’ I said.
‘I could use a bloke like you,’ he said. ‘Someone I can train up in the business.’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ said McMaster.
I thanked Bryant and took the cigarettes and the two bottles of rum I’d paid for.
‘You’ve got an honest face,’ said Bryant. ‘That’s an asset in any game.’
I told Bryant that was the nicest thing he’d ever said to me and that I’d keep his offer in mind. And then I went outside to have a smoke and a quiet drink in private, except that McMaster came out to join me. He’d taken to mothering me since my recent bout of poor health.
‘You all right?’ he said.
‘Fine.’
‘You don’t look fine. You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.’
I took out the envelope containing May’s letter and handed it to him.
‘What’s this?’ said McMaster. ‘A Dear John letter?’
‘Read it.’
McMaster opened the envelope. The letter was on monogrammed paper and smelled of roses. When he’d finished reading he folded it and handed it back to me. I slid it back into my coat pocket.
‘Christ,’ said McMaster. ‘That was fast work.’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ I said.
McMaster patted my hand a couple of times. ‘I have a joke for you,’ he said. ‘Do you know why the Labobo tribe in Africa discourage the young people from having sex?’
I shook my head.
‘Because it might lead to dancing,’ he said.
I smiled and then he gave me a stinging slap on the back and told me he wanted to be in the room when I broke the news to Bryant, because Bryant and the others had me down for a poof.
‘We only did it the once,’ I said, my smile vanishing. I don’t know why I told him that. It sounded like I was trying to prove my innocence.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said McMaster, staring at me in an amused way.
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Just that it seems like pretty bad luck.’
‘I wouldn’t say that to the girl if I was you,’ said McMaster.
I offered him a swig of rum and he took it.
‘You never know,’ he said. ‘It might be the making of you.’
I told Stanley about the letter the next time I saw him.
‘I don’t believe you,’ he said.
‘Believe what you like,’ I said. ‘I’m going down to Melbourne in the morning to see her. Three days compassionate leave.’
Stanley lit a smoke and took a long drag on it. He looked at me with his eyes narrowed, like he was a detective and I was a suspect.
‘What was it like?’ he said.
‘Terrible,’ I said. ‘I was so nervous.’
‘I’ve never been with a girl,’ he said. ‘Never even come close.’
‘Maybe you should,’ I said.
‘Maybe,’ he said.
He gave me a toothy smile. ‘I could have any girl I wanted,’ he said. ‘They’re hanging around outside my door every night of the goddamned week.’ He made it sound as if the girls should have known better.
‘It’s because of the way you juggle,’ I said. All I could think about was how it would feel to kiss him properly on the mouth.
‘That’s what I was thinking,’ he said, staring straight at me. It was a balmy night, the first warm night of the spring. In the dim light I could see the sweat beads trembling on his upper lip like dewdrops.
‘May thinks she can save me,’ I said.
‘What do you think?’ said Stanley after a pause.
I stared at him. I didn’t know why he was asking; it could have been for my sake, or it could have been for his. Either way he suddenly looked so tired and heavy-lidded it made me think of the times in the hospital when I’d watched him fall asleep in mid-sentence.
‘I’ll try anything,’ I said.
And then it was Stanley who reached through the bars and took hold of my arm. He was suddenly awake again and he was giving m
e the same steady gaze he’d given me the first time I’d laid eyes on him.
‘Take me with you,’ he said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.
I felt the heat rise up through my cheeks and the back of my neck as far as my scalp. I wasn’t sure if he was serious or not, so I just laughed.
‘I’m not joking,’ he said. ‘Why do you think I’m joking?’
‘Because it’s ridiculous,’ I said.
‘Bryant’s taking Sophie to Sydney,’ said Stanley. ‘They’re getting married.’
‘Who’s Sophie?’
‘Talks Dutch. Tits like footballs.’
‘Who says?’ I said, still laughing.
‘Everybody knows.’
‘First I’ve heard of it,’ I said.
‘They’re just waiting for permission,’ said Stanley. ‘But he’s promised her.’
‘Yeah well, Bryant’s promised a lot of things to a lot of people,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t mean he’s going to keep his word.’
‘You could adopt me,’ said Stanley. ‘Bryant’s going to adopt Sophie’s sister.’
‘Shut up about Bryant,’ I said. ‘Bryant’s a cheat and a liar.’
‘He knows about you,’ said Stanley. He let go of my arm and fell back on his cot as if he didn’t have the strength to sit up any more.
I asked him what he meant.
‘Everyone knows,’ he said. ‘You didn’t fuck Hanako at the dance because you don’t like doing it with women.’
I didn’t bother to deny it because there wasn’t any point, particularly not to Stanley. Stanley was the whole cause of my trouble. Ever since he’d shown up at Tatura I’d had the sense that I was a marked man, like I was walking around with a sign on me for everyone to read. It was how Bryant knew and had always known, and that was the reason he’d taken such an interest in me.
‘I have to go,’ I said.
Stanley didn’t say anything. He had his face turned to the wall.
‘I can’t just take you to Melbourne in my kitbag,’ I said.
‘You could,’ he said, ‘if you really wanted to.’ He refused to turn around.
I took out a second pack of smokes I had on me and reached down to put it on the floor where Stanley would see it. Then I left.
When I was back on duty patrolling the fence, I passed the spot where Stanley had dug his way underneath the wire. River stones had been brought in, mixed with concrete and dumped in the hole. The sight of them made me stop and stare. It was as if they were a symbol of something I couldn’t name, because there were no words for it. As I pictured Stanley scraping the soil away with a frying pan I was suddenly overcome with a sense of futility that went way beyond the dislike I felt for the army in general. This was something more visceral, like heartbreak, or the beginning of the end of my youth.
15
May met me at Spencer Street Station when my train pulled in. As soon as she saw me she came running towards me and almost knocked me down. She wrapped her arms right around me and started swaying as if she wanted to dance.
‘There you are,’ she said. ‘Thank God you’ve come. I’ve been battling here on my own for so long.’
When she let me go I took a step back and she looked up at me with a pained expression as if she didn’t know whether to slap me or kiss me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t easy getting leave.’
‘You look terrible,’ she said.
‘I haven’t slept since yesterday. I got a lift to Bendigo then I had to wait for a train at four in the morning. You look lovely.’ She did. Her skin was glowing as if it was its own source of light.
‘Apart from the fact that I bring up my breakfast every morning, I’m fine,’ she said, taking hold of my arm.
She steered me out of the station and into a taxi queue.
‘I need to brief you,’ she said. ‘Before you meet my father. There are certain topics of conversation you need to steer clear of.’
‘You make it sound like I’m applying for a job.’
‘You are.’
We shuffled ahead in the queue. May gripped my arm as if she was afraid I might run away.
‘Don’t mention Owen,’ she said.
I glanced down at her and saw she was about to cry.
‘I won’t,’ I said, holding her close.
‘There’s still no news of him,’ she said.
In the taxi she held my hand and leaned against me, as if we were already married. The taxi driver kept glancing at us in his rear-view mirror and smiling. I wanted to ask him to keep his eyes on the road.
Twenty minutes later we turned into a long, leafy avenue in Kew, then pulled up in front of a big modern pile the colour of marzipan. May’s house was not what I expected, but at least it explained the monogrammed notepaper. I was in half a mind to tell the driver to turn around and take me back to the station, but May had me by the coat sleeve and was pulling me out onto the street.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘You’re safe with me.’
‘That’s what they all say,’ said the taxi driver, winking at me as he wrestled the gearstick back into first.
I paused on the driveway to admire the canary-yellow Pontiac parked in the shade at the front of the house.
‘Is this our wedding present?’ I said.
‘Could be,’ said May. ‘If you play your cards right.’
Before we went inside she diverted me around to the side of the house where she pinned me to a garden wall and pulled my head down to her level so she could kiss me and slide her tongue in between my teeth.
‘I’m so happy,’ she said once she was finished.
‘Me too,’ I said, and I was. I’d forgotten how easy it was to be with May. She had such a firm idea of what she wanted, and she didn’t make me confused the way Stanley made me confused, because for her wanting something and having it were the same thing.
‘Don’t let them bludgeon you into seeing things their way,’ she said.
‘You make them sound like the Gestapo.’
‘They are the Gestapo. They don’t want me to marry you. They think I’m throwing my life away.’
‘That makes two of us.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she said, sounding hurt. She pinched me on my arm through my coat. ‘We decided.’
‘That was on the telephone.’
‘And you said yes,’ said May, pinching me some more.
I put my arms up in the air in a gesture of surrender. ‘Just joking,’ I said.
‘Don’t make jokes like that in front of my parents,’ she said. ‘You’ve got to show them you’re man enough to take care of me.’
I wanted to laugh out loud when she put it like that, because I was feeling less manly by the minute and more like a spectator at my own execution.
‘What have you told them about me?’ I said.
‘I’ve told them to give you a chance,’ she said ominously.
I stayed for lunch, a leg of lamb with all the trimmings that Mrs Forbes and May had apparently taken great trouble to prepare. We sat outside on a wide covered verandah and admired the sunlit lawn. For something to say I asked Mr Forbes whether he’d built the house himself.
‘No,’ he said, without looking up at me. He was a big, bovine man with sandy hair and solid limbs. He seemed shy, like a visitor in his own home. If he turned in my direction he would flutter his eyelids nervously, to avoid seeing me. Mrs Forbes, on the other hand, couldn’t take her eyes off me. She kept staring at me with a half-smile on her lips as if she thought everything I had to say was vaguely funny. She was the one May took after. They had the same plumpness and the same pale, freckled skin.
‘He builds office buildings,’ said May. ‘And hotels.’
‘I see,’ I said, although I had no idea what building office buildings and hotels might involve apart from the exchange of large amounts of money.
‘What does your father do?’ said May’s mother.
‘His mother and father abandoned him
,’ said May, before I could answer. ‘I told you.’
I stared at the starched tablecloth while Mrs Forbes continued to smile and Mr Forbes coughed into his serviette.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Mrs Forbes.
‘It was a long time ago,’ I said. I was relieved I’d lied to May about my parents. It meant I wouldn’t have to introduce them to Mr and Mrs Forbes and watch them make fools of themselves, which they undoubtedly would have done the minute they realised they were outclassed.
‘May tells us you’re a guard at an enemy alien camp,’ said May’s father.
‘I am.’
‘Guarding Japs,’ he said, his disapproval apparent.
‘Mostly.’
‘Looked after pretty well I hear,’ he said.
‘It’s not too bad.’ I wasn’t sure where his line of questioning was headed until May suddenly interrupted.
‘It’s not Arthur’s personal responsibility how the camps are run,’ she said, glaring at me meaningfully, as if she was warning me to be careful.
‘You know our son was captured by the Japs?’ said Mr Forbes.
‘May told me.’
‘You’ve seen the pictures no doubt, of what the prisoners endured?’ said Mr Forbes.
I didn’t say anything. I had seen the pictures. I was as shocked and sickened as the next man.
‘We hope and pray,’ said Mrs Forbes.
I glanced at May. Her eyes were full of tears.
‘The point is,’ said Mr Forbes, ‘what were we doing feeding and clothing the Jap prisoners here, while over there the bastards were working our blokes to death?’
‘Stop it, Dad,’ said May. ‘Please.’
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘I see your point Mr Forbes.’
‘Do you?’ he said.
He still wouldn’t look at me, so I turned to Mrs Forbes. ‘I think if you saw the camp where I’m stationed you’d understand. They’re mostly women and children.’
‘May tells me you teach them tennis,’ said Mrs Forbes. She had stopped eating now and was arranging her knife and fork on her empty plate.
‘I do,’ I said, feeling suddenly seasick, as if May’s light-filled house with its cool flagstones and dreamy lawn had come loose from its moorings and started to drift. A part of me wanted to be back with the kids at Tatura whacking battered tennis balls backwards and forwards in the dust, instead of sitting here on my plush seat fiddling with the silverware.