Patty and The Shadows

by Patty (Patrick) Mills

  Then Mabo Day came around.

  Land is everything to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, so Mabo Day is a big cause for celebration.

  Gerib Sik was performing at Parliament House for the occasion, and I was excited to show off the dance we’d been rehearsing so hard.

  I helped members of the dance group get ready as people gathered to watch the performance, including all the students from my school. Uncle Noel was seated on the stage with his buru buru and his large seashell. Dad and other uncles, who perform the chanting, sat on the stage with him.

  After Uncle Jim and Aunty Shirley welcomed everyone to Ngunnawal country, Uncle Noel blew through his seashell, making a trumpeting sound to start the ceremony. I walked onto the stage bare-chested, paying no attention to the cold Canberra morning.

  I walked to the centre of the stage. ‘Hello,’ I said loudly. When I knew the radio mic connected to my head was working I lowered my voice and said, just like I always practised at rehearsal, ‘We are Gerib Sik Torres Strait Islander Dance Group, and I am Patty, your Master of Ceremonies. Today, on this special occasion, we will open our performance with the shark dance, from Mer Island in the Torres Strait, the island that Grandad Eddie Mabo is from, the island he fought for.’

  And then I shot behind the screens at the back of the stage, made sure everyone was ready and then we placed the shark masks, made out of cane, coconut husk and feathers, on our faces and bit down on the piece that made them stay in place.

  Uncle Noel started beating the buru buru and we got into our positions, our legs pumping up and down to the beat of the drum and the chanting. We held our left arms out straight and our right arms bent at the elbow and to the side, and started to glide like sharks through the reef.

  I love the shark dance; performing it makes me feel strong, like a warrior. I left the stage as Josie and the other Torres Strait Island girls walked out to perform, wearing their augemwali and kerim taiir, floral dresses and headbands.

  I watched the girls, thinking back to when Uncle Noel first taught us the shark dance. I was awkward and unsure. But when I took my time and learned the steps, my confidence grew along with my ability.

  Just like with basketball. Just like with maths.

  The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander flags waved in the breeze at Parliament House as I went back on stage and started dancing again. I looked out to the audience and saw my teacher and classmates and all of the audience members looking on in amazement.

  Then all my thoughts drifted away, and it was just me and my dance group moving as one.

  ALL OUR HARD WORK paid off, and by the end of the regular season we had worked our way up into fourth place – which meant we qualified for the finals! We would play the first-placed team, the Jets, for a spot in the grand final.

  All of the Titans, including Coach Clarke, came to watch us. They had won their semifinal, so whoever made it through this game would be playing them in the grand final. Boris, Manu and Tiago were cheering for us, but when, in a major upset, we defeated the Jets by five points, I could almost feel Tyson’s nervous gaze.

  Before the start of our next training session Uncle Noel sat us all down in the centre of the court.

  He took out his large seashell from a backpack and blew it. It boomed through the stadium, the sound bouncing back at us off the walls. He’d never done that at training before. A deep quiet settled over us all.

  ‘When we created the Shadows not long ago,’ Uncle Noel said, ‘I didn’t imagine that I would be standing here with you only a few months later on the eve of your first grand final. I’m incredibly pleased with what we have achieved – the friendships that I can see developing and how quickly you have all improved your basketball skills.’

  We grinned happily at each other.

  Uncle Noel went on. ‘Now, I know you’re all excited about playing in the grand final. You’ve done well this season by practising hard and stretching yourselves, learning advanced strategies like set plays in a big hurry. But, if you want to win this grand final, you need to listen closely to me now. Have you ever heard the expression, “All good things come to those who wait”?’

  ‘I have,’ I answered.

  ‘What do you think it means?’

  ‘That if you’re patient, you’ll get what you want.’

  ‘You’re almost there, Patty,’ Uncle Noel said.

  ‘Maybe it means there’s a right time for things to happen,’ Josie said.

  ‘You’ve got it, Josie. It’s not worth hunting for turtle if it’s not turtle season. Our people are very patient people. Before we had all the technology we have today, we had to wait for time and tide and season to get many of the things we wanted. While we waited, we made things like nets and spears for when the time was right to hunt and fish. And even when it was time to hunt and fish, our people still needed to be patient as they waited to throw their spear or cast their net.’

  Uncle Noel paused for a moment and then asked, ‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  Benny said, ‘I reckon you’re trying to tell us not to rush in the game. To wait for the best passing and shooting options.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying,’ Uncle Noel said with a warm smile. ‘Our two previous games against the Titans have been very close. I believe the way to beat them is to take your time, take control of the game, make things happen when they need to happen,’ he said. ‘Come on, let’s get into it.’

  WHEN I WALKED INTO the stadium with my teammates for the grand final, it was the most nervous I’d ever been before a game, or even a test. The stands were the fullest I’d seen them.

  We all sat with our parents and watched the last minutes of a younger team’s final. The winning team were jumping up and down and hugging each other. The kids on the losing side looked miserable. I remembered how I had felt when our school team lost the semifinal against St Michael’s. I tried not to think about it, took a deep breath and focused on how my body felt, strong and full of energy.

  I shook Tyson’s hand when we walked onto the court. ‘Good luck,’ was all I said to him. He didn’t respond. I shook hands with Boris, Manu and Tiago, and they all smiled at me and wished me luck. It was strange going up against my close friends. But I knew they understood I had to do my best.

  By the time I was standing at the jump ball, the only thing on my mind was getting my hands on the ball. Then, when the referee tossed the ball up, Tyson pushed me straight into Tiago. The referee didn’t see Tyson push me, only me crashing into Tiago, and a foul was called against me. Tiago shot me a knowing look when the ball was passed to him and his team ran down to their end of the court. I was angry, but I knew that was what Tyson wanted. I tried to calm down, telling myself that there was still a whole game ahead of us.

  Tiago dribbled down the court and passed to Boris, who dashed out past the three-point line and shot before Abdi could push up on him. The ball bounced off the backboard and went in.

  The Titans supporters went wild.

  ‘It’s okay, we’ve got this,’ I told Abdi as he took the ball to pass it back in.

  Abdi ran ahead of me as I brought the ball down. I passed to Luke, who passed to Benny, close to the key. The Titans players crowded around Benny and he crouched down and made a bounce-pass between their legs out to Bashir, who had time to shoot and score two.

  We all patted Benny on the back for his smart assist.

  ‘Don’t give him an inch, Benny,’ I said just before the ball was passed in to Tyson.

  IN THE FIRST HALF the Titans kept up their forceful attack, but the Shadows kept our nerve, and when the half-time buzzer went, we were leading by two points.

  As we were leaving the court, Tyson hurled the ball at me when I wasn’t looking. It smacked me right in the guts and knocked the wind out of me.

  I was gasping for air and Uncle Noel came and helped me over to the bench. ‘Are you all right, Patty?’

  I tried to tell him that I was all right but I coul
dn’t catch my breath. Josie put her hand on my shoulder and looked at me with a concerned expression. Dad came down from the stands and handed me a bottle of water. ‘Stand up straight, Patty. Try to suck some air in,’ he said.

  Finally I caught my breath and was able to speak. ‘I’m okay,’ I said.

  ‘I’m going to talk to the referee,’ Uncle Noel said with a deep frown.

  ‘It’s okay, Uncle Noel,’ I told him. ‘I’ll sort it out.’

  WE SAT ON THE BENCH, drinking water, catching our breath and cooling down. I knew everyone was worried about me – they kept checking that I was okay. Then I laughed and said, ‘We’re winning,’ and everyone else laughed too.

  Uncle Noel smiled and said, ‘Yes, we are winning – but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Patience, remember?’

  I DIDN’T WANT TO give anything away to Tyson. So when we stepped back on the court for the second half, I looked him in the eye as if nothing had happened.

  I received the ball from Abdi and dribbled towards the basket. When I made the shot, Tyson gave me a massive shove. I heard an angry murmur from the crowd – some people must have seen his earlier behaviour towards me, too. This time, the referee called the foul against Tyson.

  ‘Come on, Patty,’ I heard people calling out from the stands as I moved to the free-throw line.

  I bounced the ball twice, concentrated on the hoop, then took a shot. It swished through the net. Our supporters went crazy, but I told myself not to get caught up in the excitement. I had to focus on the next shot.

  Again I went through my routine. As soon as I pushed up through my legs and the ball rolled off my fingers, I knew I was going to make the next free throw. Swish went the ball as it dropped through the net.

  Tyson took off recklessly and Benny was right on him. When Tyson turned and bounced the ball I stole it and dashed to the basket to score another two points.

  I knew we’d rattled the Titans and my excitement seemed to give me even more energy.

  When I was bringing the ball down the court I saw Uncle Noel holding his hand out in front of him, telling me to steady things down. I looked around. All the Shadows were in their positions, and I held up one finger, telling them I wanted us to run our set play.

  It ran like clockwork, with quick passes from me to Benny to Josie, who scored us another two points, putting us up by eight.

  ‘We’ve got them now,’ Josie said. But within seconds, Matthew scored a three-pointer. Then Tiago stole the ball from Luke when we were attacking and the Titans scored another three points.

  Now we were only leading by two. I felt a wave of nervousness sweep over me as I looked up at the time clock and saw that there were only two minutes remaining in the game.

  I dribbled the ball back down the court. Riley, Josie, Abdi and Luke were all racing around the key with their arms stretched above their heads. I passed to Riley and she dribbled away from the basket, turned and shot. The ball bounced off the hoop and straight to Boris. Matthew and Tyson were already making a fast break down the court.

  Boris hurled the ball to Matthew and it felt like a replay of the losing semifinal I’d played in against his school team. Matthew pulled up outside the three-point line. The ball bounced off the backboard and straight through the hoop.

  Now they were leading by one.

  The Titans fans went crazy. Tyson jumped all over Matthew as if they’d won the game.

  Uncle Noel called a timeout.

  ‘I know there’s less than a minute left and it probably feels like you need to race to the basket – but believe me, you don’t. It’s really the time to be patient. Remember what we talked about?’

  We all nodded, trying to catch our breath.

  ‘It’s all about being patient until the best opportunity to score opens up,’ Uncle Noel went on. ‘Have you got it?’

  ‘Yes,’ we all said, and Uncle Noel sent us back out.

  I dribbled the ball down the court as fast as I could, but once I hit our attacking zone I slowed down. I thought about how I had been rushing my steps at dance practice. It was time to move with the rhythm of the game.

  I passed the ball to Josie. She dribbled the ball away from the basket and passed to Riley. Riley held the ball above her head and passed to Abdi. I was watching from outside the three-point line and thought that Abdi was going to drive to the basket and make a layup. But he paused, then passed the ball out to me. There were four seconds left on the clock.

  I could hear everyone yelling, ‘Shoot it, Patty!’

  I took a jump shot.

  Tyson was right in front of me defending and I couldn’t see if the ball had gone in. But when all my teammates started jumping over me, I knew it had. The roar from the stands erupted at the same moment as the buzzer sounded. I looked up to see Uncle Noel with his arms raised above his head.

  I COULDN’T WIPE THE GRIN off my face for days after the grand final. My mum and dad both said how proud they were – not just that we had won, but that I had kept a cool head and done my best for the team in the face of Tyson’s cruel comments and bullying behaviour.

  I was thinking about their words when I sat down for my maths test.

  As I sat there looking at the more difficult long multiplication equations, I pictured Uncle Noel saying, ‘All good things come to those who wait – be patient’. I tried looking at the equation differently, taking my time, moving through the steps I needed to solve it. And then, all of a sudden, it made sense. I didn’t need to see Ms Baker’s tick to know that I’d solved it correctly.

  OUR BASKETBALL ASSOCIATION held an awards dinner, and everyone brought dishes to share. The parents of my teammates brought some of their traditional foods. Riley’s parents brought some kangaroo kebabs. Dad made his delicious curry crab and Josie’s mum made a coconut curry fish.

  When we were standing at the table dishing up our food, Tyson sidled in next to Riley and me.

  ‘Want to try some kangaroo kebabs?’ Riley asked him. ‘They’re my favourite.’

  ‘Of course,’ he answered.

  I looked at him in surprise. ‘Really?’ I said. ‘It’s bush tucker, you know.’

  ‘Yeah I know. I’ve had it before.’

  ‘When did you try it?’ I asked.

  ‘Reconciliation Week. This food is delicious,’ he said, piling up his plate. ‘And Patty, I was a real idiot, hey?’

  I looked at Tyson, noticing that I’d grown at least another inch taller than him. I could have easily agreed. But he looked me in the eye, a meek, embarrassed smile on his face. ‘You’re all right, bala,’ I said. ‘Try some of Dad’s curry crab.’

  PATTY MILLS was born in Canberra. His father is from the Torres Strait Islands, and his mother is originally from the Kokatha people in South Australia. Patty plays with the San Antonio Spurs in the NBA and is a triple Olympian with the Australian Boomers (Beijing ’08, London ’12, Rio de Janeiro ’16).

  JARED THOMAS is a Nukunu person of the Southern Flinders Ranges. His novels include Dallas Davis, the Scientist and the City Kids for children, and Sweet Guy, Calypso Summer and Songs that Sound Like Blood for young adults. Jared’s writing explores the power of belonging and culture.