by Max Howell
The sun was setting by the time he got there, and it was a glorious sight. Mark watched the waves breaking at the bottom of the cliffs After looking out towards the sea for a long time, Mark turned back to observe the glass roof of the Aquarium, the bandstand in front of Coogee Oval, and the apartments and red-roofed houses that stretched for miles. He also saw Wylie’s Baths in the distance, carved out of the rocks, and he remembered his mother telling him about swimming there as a young girl. She often recounted that Mr Wylie, who leased the baths, would give trick swimming and diving exhibitions with his children throughout the various baths of the city. His mother swam with the daughter, Mina Wylie, and also Fanny Durack, and in 1912 they were the first Australian women to go to an Olympic Games, and in the only individual swimming event for women, the 100 metres, Fanny got a gold medal and Mina a silver.
As Mark looked from his vantage point above the cliffs, he thought, to himself, that this was his chance in life. It was his opportunity to be better than all those people as far as he could see, and beyond. He wanted to be the best in the world.
Then Mark started running, from Coogee Beach to Randwick, and as he neared Peter’s Corner, close to his home, he was sprinting, though he had to be careful at the corner because of the dangerous traffic that came from four directions. He cleared the road, was flying as he came down Alison Road, turned abruptly as he came to Church Street, and arrived home with his lungs almost bursting from the effort.
Watching him as always, from behind the curtains, was Faith. She had been worried, as Mark had never been this late before, and she had never seen him run so fast. He looked, to her, like a young Greek god with his blonde hair flying in the wind, and when she went to bed that night it was that image on her mind as she fell to sleep. She knew she was young, barely sixteen, but she also knew she was deeply in love. She told no one, not even her closest friend. The knowledge was hers and hers alone to treasure and cherish, and the secret which she kept to herself made it mean all the more. She loved him, and she resolved she would love him to eternity. There never would be another man in her life.
Faith could only be described as young for her age. Her father was 50 and mother 43 when she was born, and as an only child she was brought up in a protective as well as an old-world environment. There had been another child, but she had died at two years of age from leukemia, and it had been a terrible shock to the parents, one from which they had never completely recovered. It was many years before they could bring themselves to try for another child, and they prayed before and after the birth that nothing so tragic would befall their second one. It was for this reason they had named her ‘Faith’. The values that her parents had were reflected in everything she did. She went with them whenever they went out, and that was generally confined to the pictures, and to visiting relatives. About the only time she went anywhere apart from her parents was to school, occasionally to the beach with her girl-friends, and to church socials.
She was angular in build, difficult to call beautiful, but she had a certain wide-eyed quality and naivety that added to her overall attractiveness. She portrayed innocence.
She had menstruated that year and her breasts that developed were to change little throughout her life, small, round and well-formed. As she grew to womanhood, she found that she dreamed a lot, had to force herself occasionally to concentrate, and her thoughts, even at school and certainly at night when she lay in bed, consisted of a tranquility that seemed to sweep through the flat, centred on Mark. She was deeply in love, would blush if anyone mentioned his name and could hardly wait to catch a glimpse of him. When she did see him, her heart would race and her knees would feel weak. She kept repeating to herself her secret resolve of undying love. She promised herself, and in her prayers promised God, that if He would give him to her, she would never love anyone else.
As she attended Sydney Girls’ High School, in Moore Park, and the school where Mark went was a mere two tram stops away, she found that she could catch the same tram as Mark did. The chocolate brown school uniform and straw hat did not aid her appearance much, and on top of that she looked so young compared to the others of her age group. Sometimes she would cry as she evaluated her own physical assets. He will never notice me, she lamented.
She would stand near Mark on the way to school at the same tram stop at Peter’s Corner, but he never talked to any of the girls. He conversed mainly with a friend of his going to the same school who lived nearby, Frank Fielding. She would stand as close as she could and often would hear what the two friends were talking about. Mark had a beautifully resonant voice, and when he smiled his face seemed to open up. He was athletic-looking, his tanned and lean body standing out in comparison with the others.
When everyone got on the tram to go to school, she would always try to get in the same compartment, and would sit opposite him, though usually in the corner. She would pretend to take no notice, but for her there was no distance between them, and her whole body tingled knowing he was only a few yards away.
Mark mainly talked about his training to Frank, and his school-work. She started to understand that he had dedicated himself to the Olympic Games of 1956, and his whole life was focussed on that effort. He never talked in a smutty or suggestive manner like most of the other boys she knew, and he never swore. To her, he was a perfect being, a person without faults, and also one with a mission, a purpose in his life.
She heard he was doing well at school, and that motivated her to do the same. She became quite introspective. She loved reading, and gloried in Shakespeare and Wuthering Heights and the other period novels in which people lived unreal lives. Her conversation with her parents was like something out of another age. Did they think that Emily Bronte actually experienced things she wrote about? Why did Henry Handel Richardson, a woman, use a nom-de-plume when she wrote Maurice Guest, The Getting of Wisdom and The Fortunes of Richard Mahony? Why was Adam Lindsay Gordon’s poetry considered superior to Henry Kendall’s, and yet his descriptions of Australia were more sensitive and contemplative? Could Australian bush ballads be considered poetry?
The other girls in the school started to come to the conclusion that Faith was somehow different. She would go to the school library during her lunch-time break and absorb herself with her reading. The others tried to talk to her about boys, about going out and meeting them, but each time she politely refused. She resolved that she would not spoil herself with any other person. She knew even at her young age she would ever only love one individual.
So she plunged into her books, and soon was topping her classes. She felt that she had to be a high achiever as well. If Mark set high goals, then so should she.
On the way home from school Mark was sometimes delayed. But he always got on the tram first, as her stop was about half a mile away. As each tram pulled up she would hurriedly glance at the occupants. If he was not on it, she would wait for the next one. When she saw him then she would get on, and sit shyly in her spot in the corner.
She learned about his early morning training, so she told her parents she wanted to exercise every morning, and would walk to Coogee Beach, a mile and a half away, and wait discreetly outside the Baths until he finished his training. She would stand a fair distance away under a palm tree and then her feelings would surge as he ran out of the Baths and jogged home. She would then catch the tram and beat him to her own house, and would then watch from the window as he would come sprinting down the road.
One day, as he came out of the Baths, he looked directly at her. She could see the surprise on his face, and she turned away quickly. She knew at that moment that he had actually recognised her.
That same day, as they both got on the tram and she retreated to her safe corner, she noticed him studying her intently. She felt his eyes on her face, and then they followed the lines of her angular body. Her heart was racing, and she knew she was blushing, and pretended to look out the window.
That young kid is always in the tram when I get in, he thought to
himself. She looks like a frightened rat. Do you think she can be following me? That is ridiculous! She looks so damn young. I wonder what age she is? She is a pretty little thing.
He turned to his friend Frank and whispered quietly: “Do you know that girl in the corner?”
“She is a bit young for you, Mark.”
“No seriously, Frank, do you know who she is?”
“No, but she is always hanging around you. I think she must be stuck on you.”
“Aw, go on, don’t be stupid.”
From then on he watched out for her, and sure enough the next day when he ran out of the Baths he saw her standing under the tree, and she turned her face away as he looked her straight in the eye. Then he knew for certain.
As he ran back home it was with renewed vigour. It gave him something to think about as he surged forward. Well, what do you know, he thought, that little kid must have a crush on me?
It gave him a nice feeling. He had never known a girl who felt that way about him, and he noticed a stirring in his own body as he came to the realisation. He had never thought about girls since he had made his agreement with his coach, but this somehow seemed different. He had not done anything to promote a relationship, and as she was so young he rationalised no harm could come from it.
When he got on the tram from then on they were both aware of the other’s presence, and the atmosphere was charged. As Faith sat down Mark would nod to her in recognition and she would nod back, and then turn away. But they both knew that each one was watching the other intently.
A few days later Mark ran out from the Baths and again saw Faith standing there. He ran towards her, and as he did her knees trembled. He stopped in front of her, and smiled: “Hello”, he said, “what is your name?” Her throat tightened. “F … Faith” she stammered out, “Faith Rogers.”
“My name is Mark,” he said confidently, but warmly, conscious of the emotion the young girl was feeling.
“I … I know,” she blurted out.
“It’s nice to see you every day,” he said. “I look forward to it.”
“So do I,” she said simply.
“I must go now,” he said, “it is part of my training. See you later, Faith, see you at the tram stop.” He ran off waving, his blonde hair streaming behind him, his well-proportioned body moving swiftly along the road.
As he left, Faith’s legs buckled, and she sat there at the foot of the tree, tears streaming down her face. It was all so unbelievable. He had not laughed at her, he somehow understood how much she loved him. She watched him disappear in the distance through blurred eyes. It was a moment she had dreamed about. It was all so absolutely perfect. It was the most important day in her life to this point, and she knew she would never forget it.
When she got home she was still shaking.
“Are you all right, Faith?” her mother asked, observing her flushed and animated face.
“Yes, Mum, everything is just perfect. I really enjoyed my walk to-day. The heavens seemed to open up.”
She got herself ready for school with considerable anxiety. She cleaned her teeth twice, and hurriedly ironed her school uniform again. She went back to the bath-room, and looked in the mirror. If I were only more beautiful, she thought, how can he ever like me like this? She combed and brushed her hair, furiously bringing out all the lustre from her brownish, straight hair that she could. She put on her school hat, and tried to find a jauntier angle. She thought how horrid her long brown stockings were, as well as the shapeless skirt. She was 16 now and in fourth year at school, and he was 17 and in fifth year, his last at school. She suddenly panicked somewhat as she realised that he would probably talk to her that morning. What could I possibly talk about? My God, what will I be able to say? I have done so little in my life. He will think me a complete ninny.
She sat down and took out a small piece of paper and listed topics she could speak about: weather, school, books, pictures, his sport. She felt a lot more relieved. There were things she could talk about. She kept the list in her skirt pocket just in case her mind went blank.
Faith looked into the mirror again, and wished once more that she was more beautiful and that she was older. She pushed her hair back on one side, and took a deep breath. It was as if a new world was opening up, one of hope and promise … and love. She felt as if her adult world was about to begin.
She was both excited and terrified. Before she left home she ran in to the kitchen and embraced her mother. “I love you, Mum,” she blurted out.
“Well, now, what brought this on?”
“Nothing, Mum, nothing, other than that I feel to-day is a very important day for me.”
“Well, young Faith, then I hope it is for you too.” She warmly embraced her daughter, and watched her as she hurried out the door. I wonder, her mother thought, if we have protected her too much. All she does is study, and do things with us. She is a strange little thing, very deep and determined in her own way. She seems to have very few friends, but I guess she will make out all right.
As she walked jauntily up to Peters’ Corner she could see that Mark was there already, and he was smiling broadly as she came towards him.
“Well, hullo again,” he said, his smile and words reassuring her considerably. His voice, that she had heard so often over the years from a distance, soothed her anxiety. “Have you ever met my mate Frank? Frank, this is Faith.”
“No,” Faith interjected, “we have never met. I am very pleased to meet you, Frank.”
Frank looked at her rather quizzically. He could hardly wait to find out from Mark how they had suddenly become so familiar. He eyed her over, wondering why Mark, who never talked to girls, would waste his time on this young and skinny runt. He guessed she was 13 or 14, and was surprised how open her eyes seemed to be. She looked like a novice in a nunnery, so bloody pure it was hard to believe. Faith, however, felt uncomfortable as she sensed Frank’s eyes traversing her body and summing her up.
“Is it true,” laughed Frank, “that the girls at Sydney High are protected from the boys by barbed wire fences?”
“Why, no,” she replied in all seriousness. “There is a fence, but no boy would dare enter the girls’ school.”
“Is that because they would be trampled to death by the girls trying to get at them?”
Faith blushed deeply, as she was not used to such repartee. Mark intervened quickly. “Cut it out, Frank, you can see she is not used to that kind of talk.” She looked at Mark and smiled, while Frank just laughed and said, “Just joking, kid.”
“I am not a kid, either, I am 16,” she said quickly, her jaw jutting out. She surprised herself at her own sharpness, but she was conscious of the slight age difference between her and the two of them, but particularly she knew she was of youthful appearance.
“Okay, kid … I mean Faith, you win.” Then he turned to Mark. “She is a bit of all right, Mark.”
“Yes,” Mark said evenly, “I think she is too.” As he smiled she knew she was accepted by both of them. “That is the way to go, Faith. Don’t take anything from anybody.”
“Thanks, Mark.” She looked at Mark with her wide and innocent eyes, and he knew she was different, and she stirred in him a protective instinct. I must look after her, he thought to himself.
“You are welcome to travel to and from school with us anytime, Faith,” Mark said simply.
“I’d like that,” she said, her heart bursting with happiness. Her body surged with emotion. It was hard to explain, but she felt her breasts become taut, and her nipples heighten in intensity. For the first time in her life she felt sexual. It was a beautiful, wondrous feeling. It all seemed like a dream to her, a beautiful dream.
“Yeah, I go along with that too,” said Frank laughingly. “Sure beats talking with Mark. We will call ourselves the two Musketeers and the Musketress. How about that? The two Musketeers and the Musketress.”
“You know,” said Mark, looking at her, “you are actually glowing. I don’t think I have
ever seen anybody glow before.”
“It must be because I am so happy,” she said openly.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters, Faith?”
“No, I don’t,” she said, “Mum and Dad were quite old when I was born. They called me Faith, because they had lost a child, and they prayed and prayed that they would have another, and I came along late in their lives. They were so happy that I was born and that I was all right.”
“And what do your parents do?”
“Dad’s a teacher at Randwick Intermediate High School, and Mum’s a house-wife. Dad says Mum’s got enough to do looking after the two of us. “Dad is pretty strict, but I can always get around Mum if I want to. But I do everything I want.” She went on.
“Actually I love to study. I like the challenge of being better than others and testing myself to the maximum of my ability. I particularly love English and History. I am reading Midsummer’s Night’s Dream at the moment, and I enjoy every line of it. It is fascinating tracing back the origin of the Old English words. As a playwright I do not believe Shakespeare’s ever been excelled. I finished Henrik Ibsen’s Ghosts a few months back, but I did not enjoy it because I felt it presented a despondent view of life. What do you think, Mark?”
“I agree. I like plays and poetry that present a positive image of life. What else do you like, Faith?”
“History is my second love. The Mesopotamians, the Egyptians, the Minoans and Mycenaeans, the Greeks and the Romans, they all intrigue me. When I study each of them I am transported to those lands. One of these days I hope to travel to them all. Of course I surf a little and I love to watch sports”, and she paused, “especially swimming.”
“I am glad to hear that. I hope you will come along to watch me when the season starts.”