by Jack Davis
MOTHER: She came to see Tim.
WILLIAM: Next thing he’ll be sneakin’ round.
MOTHER: Who?
WILLIAM: Mr Ranger, sneakin’ round seeing what he can find out.
PEGGY: I think I’d better go, Mrs Winalli.
TIM: No, it’s alright Peggy, sit down.
MOTHER: Kia, William, kienya noonuk bawanginy baal winyarn. [‘Yes, William, you’re talking wrong, she’s a sad person.’]
WILLIAM: Yeah? And where will I be if Ranger gets me? Woonana nitja yarginy, like this, in gaol!
He puts his fingers in front of his face, signifying the bars of a cell.
MOTHER: William!
WILLIAM: I dunno. Wadjellas [‘White fellas …’] just can’t mind their own business!
MOTHER: William!
WILLIAM: Real flamin’ sticky beaks!
MOTHER: Nephew!
WILLIAM: What?
MOTHER: Why don’t you play the didgeridoo?
WILLIAM: What for?
MOTHER: Just to show you can be nice when you want to be.
TIM grabs the didgeridoo.
TIM: I’ll play it.
He blows a rather weak blast.
Solid, eh, Peggy?
WILLIAM: Give it here.
He takes the didgeridoo, sets himself up and plays. He begins slowly, then includes dingo and kookaburra calls, finally building up a strong rhythm. TIM jumps to his feet.
TIM: Come on Cousin, I can dance to that.
He dances, trying to impress PEGGY.
Deadly, eh, Peggy?
The dance ends. He shouts for joy.
Woolah! Kwobbinyarn! [‘Excellent!’]
PEGGY: Hey, that was great!
MOTHER: That was moorditj. [‘… good.’]
TIM: Hey, what’s the time?
PEGGY: About five-thirty.
TIM: Five-thirty! Gawd, I’m late for training!
PEGGY: I’ll have to be going too, Mrs Winalli. Thank you for having me.
MOTHER: That’s alright, love.
PEGGY: And thanks for the music, William. I wish my dad could’ve heard you.
WILLIAM: You gonna tell him about … ?
He mimes chopping.
TIM: She wouldn’t do that. She came round to warn us about him.
MOTHER: Come again, love, any time.
PEGGY looks doubtfully at WILLIAM.
WILLIAM: Won’t worry me.
PEGGY: Will I see you tomorrow, Tim?
TIM: Hey, I’ll come with you.
They leave the house together.
WILLIAM: I dig a romance, I dig a romance.
MOTHER: She’s a nice girl, and a lonely one.
WILLIAM: What’s she got to be lonely for?
MOTHER: Lots of people are lonely, especially wadjellas.
They watch as PEGGY and TIM go off in opposite directions.
SCENE FOUR
Gentle music is playing as PEGGY makes her way back to the RANGER’s house. She begins working on a dance, practising steps and making notes. The RANGER calls as he enters.
RANGER: Peggy?
PEGGY: I’m in the kitchen, Daddy.
RANGER: Hello, what are you up to?
PEGGY: Oh, just messing around.
RANGER: New dance, eh?
PEGGY: Sort of.
RANGER: Can I have a look?
PEGGY: It’s not much at the moment.
RANGER: What’s it for?
PEGGY: It’s for my scholarship assessment.
RANGER: And is Madame helping you with it?
PEGGY: No, Daddy. We have to make up our own dance and then she gives us marks for it.
RANGER: And what’s your dance about?
PEGGY: I don’t know yet. I thought I might use Aboriginal music.
RANGER: What, all that … nya nya nyar nyar nyaaa … ?
PEGGY: No, Daddy, real music with didgeridoo and clapsticks.
RANGER: Not much of a tune to dance to.
PEGGY: It’s just an idea.
The RANGER pulls a woodchip from his bag.
RANGER: By the way, do you know what this is?
PEGGY: Yes, a chip of wood.
RANGER: And do you know what it means?
PEGGY: No.
RANGER: I found three trees cut down over by Acacia Road today. And you don’t get chips this size with a little tomahawk.
PEGGY: Well, Tim couldn’t have done that …
RANGER: Oh, so his name’s Tim is it?
PEGGY: Yes, but …
RANGER: I haven’t finished yet. Now, I’ve been doing some checking. There’s only one Aboriginal family in town and they are the ones renting that Forestry cottage. Now, if I find they’re cutting down trees and leaving them across the fire breaks you can tell your friend I’ll have them out of that house before you can say Jack Robinson. Do you hear me?
Silence.
PEGGY: Daddy …
RANGER: Yes?
PEGGY: Are you a racist?
RANGER: Am I a what?
PEGGY: Are you a racist?
RANGER: Good Lord, whatever made you think of a thing like that?
PEGGY: Well, you don’t seem to like some people.
RANGER: Go on.
PEGGY: You don’t seem to like Aborigines.
RANGER: Some of them are alright, I suppose. It’s just some of them can’t be trusted.
PEGGY: Do you know any?
RANGER: Not personally. Now, look, I know what you’re getting at and it’s got nothing to do with it. If anyone, black or white, is damaging the forest it’s my job to—
PEGGY: If you don’t know any Aborigines how do you know they can’t be trusted?
RANGER: Because everybody says so.
PEGGY: White people say so?
RANGER: Yes. Now listen, young lady, I’m not going to talk about this any longer. All this talk about racism and me not liking people—it’s ridiculous … stupid … just plain dumb.
PEGGY: Daddy, I’m glad you think it’s dumb.
RANGER: Why?
PEGGY: Because my friend is coming over here to help me with my dance.
RANGER: Oh, I don’t know about that, love.
PEGGY: And his mum and his cousin, ’cause they can play Aboriginal music.
RANGER: Coming here? The whole flaming tribe?
PEGGY: Daddy!
RANGER: Now look, Peggy, you really shouldn’t get too friendly with these people.
PEGGY: Why not?
RANGER: Well, it’s not their fault … we’ve done some bad things to them in the past …
PEGGY: Yes?
RANGER: Well, some things just don’t mix. They’re not like us. They have different habits, they live differently … and I’m sure they wouldn’t feel comfortable coming to this house.
PEGGY: How do you know? You don’t know any Aborigines.
The RANGER is forced to back down.
RANGER: When are they coming?
PEGGY: I haven’t asked them yet.
RANGER: Thank heavens for that.
PEGGY: But I was thinking of tomorrow evening.
RANGER: But I’ll be out! I’ve got the Fire Brigade meeting!
PEGGY: I can look after them.
RANGER: But Peggy, they might do something to you, steal things, anything …
PEGGY: Oh Daddy, I’m so glad you’re not a racist!
She kisses him and goes to her room. The RANGER throws up his hands in despair, then he leaves the room too.
INTERLUDE
Music is playing. In the Winnalli’s house MOTHER and WILLIAM come into the room. MOTHER has her bag of clothes. WILLIAM tries on a shirt and a pair of overalls. They are too big for him but MOTHER indicates that they will fit him when she has altered them. WILLIAM is not very happy.
SCENE FIVE
PEGGY is waiting at the honey spot doing stretching exercises. TIM creeps up on her. It appears at first that he is trying to steal her school bag but when he has it in his hand he replaces it with his basketball and
it becomes evident that it is just a trick he is playing. PEGGY turns and sees him.
PEGGY: You’re late.
TIM: No, I’m not, you’re early.
PEGGY: We said five o’clock. Where have you been?
TIM: Mrs Porter kept us in.
PEGGY: The whole Class Six?
TIM: No, just me.
PEGGY: What for?
TIM: It was Michael Permezel’s fault. He called me ‘blackie’.
PEGGY: Then why did you get kept in?
TIM: Because I bashed him.
Silence.
PEGGY: Tim?
TIM: Uh huh?
PEGGY: What’s it like being born different?
TIM: What do you mean ‘different’?
He knows what she means but is trying to avoid an awkward conversation.
PEGGY: Well, you know.
TIM: I don’t know if you don’t tell me.
PEGGY: Well, do you reckon you and me are different?
TIM: Crikey I hope so. You’re a girl and I’m a boy!
PEGGY: Not that.
TIM: Oh, you mean, I’m a nyoongah and you’re a wadjella?
PEGGY: Wadjella?
TIM: White fella.
PEGGY: Yeah, like that.
TIM: I don’t feel any different.
PEGGY: Some people say there’s a difference.
TIM: I feel sorry for them people.
Silence.
PEGGY: Do you want to come over to my place tonight?
TIM: I don’t know about that.
PEGGY: Why not? I came to your place.
TIM: So?
PEGGY: So, are you too good to come to my place?
TIM: No.
PEGGY: You’re scared.
TIM: Scared of what?
PEGGY: Scared of my dad.
TIM: I’m not scared of anybody.
PEGGY: Then prove it.
TIM: I don’t have to prove anything …
PEGGY: Scaredy cat, scaredy cat.
TIM: Especially to wadjellas!
PEGGY: Oh, so you do think you’re different? Wadjellas not good enough for you? Well I feel sorry for you, I really do.
TIM: You don’t have to feel sorry for me.
PEGGY: At least you’ve got one good thing.
TIM: What’s that?
PEGGY: Brand new brains.
TIM: Why’ve I got brand new brains?
PEGGY: Because you haven’t even used them yet!
Silence.
TIM: Alright, I’ll come to your place tonight.
PEGGY: And bring Cousin William and his didgeridoo.
TIM: Cousin William? You won’t get him within a mile of your dad’s place.
PEGGY: Dad’s going to a Fire Brigade meeting. So come at eight o’clock, okay?
TIM: Okay.
He leaves. PEGGY calls after him.
PEGGY: And bring your mum too!
She runs off.
INTERLUDE
Music is playing. In the Winallis’ house, MOTHER dresses up, preparing to go out. She takes care over her appearance. In the RANGER’s house, PEGGY helps the RANGER to put on his jacket. He leaves to go to the Fire Brigade meeting, anxiously looking back at the house, where PEGGY is already moving the furniture ready for her visitors.
SCENE SIX
The Winallis arrive outside the RANGER’s house in the dark. WILLIAM is hanging back. He carries his didgeridoo.
MOTHER: Come on, William, hurry up! Tim, tuck your shirt in.
TIM obeys.
William!
WILLIAM: Reckon I’ll just wait out here for a bit, Auntie.
TIM: What’s the matter, William? You scared of the big bad Ranger man?
WILLIAM: Just like the fresh air, that’s all.
TIM: He’s gone to a Fire Brigade meeting. See, his jeep’s gone.
MOTHER: [calling out] Anybody home?
PEGGY comes to the door.
PEGGY: Hello, come in! Where’s William?
MOTHER: He’s here. William!
PEGGY: Hello, William.
WILLIAM shuffles forward, dragging his didgeridoo.
WILLIAM: Mr Ranger gone out?
MOTHER: ’Course he has.
PEGGY: Come and sit down.
MOTHER and TIM come in and sit down. WILLIAM still waits outside.
Would you like something to eat or drink?
MOTHER: Oh, we wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.
TIM: I would!
He and PEGGY go into the kitchen. MOTHER calls WILLIAM in.
MOTHER: William!
WILLIAM: I’m not hungry.
MOTHER: Where’s your manners?
WILLIAM comes into the house. PEGGY and TIM return with drinks.
PEGGY: Now, the reason I’ve asked you all here is, well, I do ballet, see, and for our scholarship assessment we have to make up a dance, and I wanted to do a real Australian dance, with Aboriginal music.
MOTHER: What do you want us to do?
PEGGY: You can all be in it. You can do your dance on your own or with somebody else.
WILLIAM: You mean you want to use us up.
MOTHER: William!
TIM: Kienya!
WILLIAM: Well, she’s not getting me doing no dancing.
He starts to leave.
PEGGY: No, you can play the didgeridoo. Tim can dance.
TIM: Not me!
WILLIAM: I reckon that’s moorditj. ‘… good.’] Just fancy Timmy doing ballet.
TIM: I reckon it’s weak. I can’t do ballet.
PEGGY: You don’t have to do real ballet, just corroboree, like you were doing last night.
MOTHER: Go on, Timmy, it’ll be fun.
TIM: I don’t want to.
PEGGY: You don’t have to.
WILLIAM: He’s probably no good at it anyway.
TIM: Why not?
WILLIAM: Your legs are too skinny.
TIM: I could outdance you any day.
WILLIAM: Yeah, well, go on then. You’re all talk.
TIM: Not here. I haven’t got me paint.
PEGGY: What paint?
MOTHER: He needs paint to put on his skin.
PEGGY: Hold on a minute.
She goes out.
TIM: Oh, Mum!
MOTHER: You ought to do it, Timmy. You’re a good dancer and it would be nice for Peggy. Timmy …
TIM: Mum, stop calling me Timmy all the time. I’m not a little kid.
MOTHER: You’re acting like one.
PEGGY returns with paint.
PEGGY: Do you want house paint, zinc cream or toothpaste?
TIM: Give me the zinc cream. I’m only doing my face, alright?
MOTHER: Alright, it’s the dancing she wants to see, to see if you’re good enough.
She helps TIM to paint his face. PEGGY giggles.
TIM: What’s wrong?
PEGGY: Nothing.
MOTHER: Do some of your animal dances, Tim. See if Peggy can guess what they are.
WILLIAM: Okay.
TIM: William first.
WILLIAM: No, Tim first.
TIM: I don’t want to.
WILLIAM: Go on.
TIM: No, you. You always reckon you’re a better dancer.
MOTHER: What’s it matter who goes first? Go on, Tim, you do it!
WILLIAM: Yeah, go on, Cuz, I’ll play for you.
TIM gets to his feet reluctantly.
What you gonna do?
TIM: You know. Just play. Waitj. ‘Emu.’]
He crouches down, licking his fingers.
PEGGY: guessing] A wombat eating!
TIM: I haven’t even started yet, dumb dumb!
WILLIAM plays the didgeridoo. TIM does a short emu dance, then sits.
PEGGY: An emu!
WILLIAM: Hey, she’s pretty quick, eh?
TIM: That’s ’cause I danced it so good. Well, go on—your turn.
WILLIAM: Okay—bungarra.
PEGGY: What’s ‘bungarra’?
TIM: Bungarra—that�
�s the old man goanna.
WILLIAM: Don’t tell her! Now I got to do something else!
MOTHER: No, it’s a good dance, William. Do it anyway. You do the dance and I’ll tell the story.
TIM plays the didgeridoo. WILLIAM dances as MOTHER tells the story.
MOTHER: This is the story of the old man bungarra. And he’s walking along in the desert, looking for that special berry bush that he can eat. And he’s walking along and walking along. And up in the sky, way, way up, there’s this eagle, just waiting to get the old man bungarra. And the eagle’s up there hovering, just waiting. And the bungarra’s walking along and he’s walking along, and he’s looking at the eagle and he’s looking for the berry bush, and he’s looking at the eagle and he’s looking for the berry bush. Then the eagle sees him, and he dives down fast! And the bungarra looks up, and he runs off quick!
The dance ends.
PEGGY: Great!
WILLIAM: Better’n Tim’s emu, eh?
TIM: I played better didgeridoo.
MOTHER: What’s it matter who’s better? They were both good, weren’t they Peggy?
PEGGY: Yeah.
MOTHER: Give us them clapsticks.
TIM: What for?
MOTHER: My turn to do the music. You boys do the kangaroo hunt. Both of youse together.
TIM: Yeah, come on, Cousin William. You be the kangaroo and I’ll be the hunter.
MOTHER plays the clapsticks. TIM and WILLIAM dance a kangaroo hunt. TIM, as the hunter, mimes spearing the kangaroo played by WILLIAM.
TIM: Got you!
He places his foot on the corpse. WILLIAM grabs the foot and wrestles him to the ground.
WILLIAM: But the kangaroo’s only wounded and he gets up and strangles the hunter …
They roll over, laughing. PEGGY and MOTHER applaud.
PEGGY: Oh you have to be in the dance, Tim. You want to, don’t you? If we all do it together?
TIM: Okay.
PEGGY: William?
WILLIAM: Suits me.
MOTHER: You’ll have to practise.
WILLIAM: Not here.
PEGGY: It has to be ready in two weeks.
MOTHER: Not much time, girlie.
PEGGY: We had better start tomorrow.
WILLIAM: Not here. No way.
PEGGY: At the honey spot.
MOTHER: What’s that?
PEGGY: Out in the forest where the plura bit me. Tim knows. How about half-past five tomorrow?
MOTHER: That’s alright.
PEGGY: And thanks for coming.
WILLIAM: ’Bye.
The Winallis leave. TIM turns back to PEGGY, .
TIM: giving the Aboriginal sign for ‘girl’, which is fists clenched on the chest] Hey, you’re a real cunning yorga ‘… girl …’] alright.