Warrigal's Way

by Warrigal Anderson

  Sue sat down and gave me a hug. “You and I might be mates then. What do you reckon?”

  “Too right, I’d like that,” I told Sue.

  “We might go to the pictures after lunch, if it stops raining. Would you like to go?” Sue asked.

  I said, “Gee, yeah, thank you,” just as Nancy called us for lunch. A big bowl of beef soup with crusty bread. It was just the ticket on a cold day.

  “Fancy getting a rotten day like this in January. What was Melbourne’s weather like, Nan? Did you get that dry hot spell, or was Melbourne turning on its usual charming weather for you.” Sue laughed.

  “No, Melbourne was great,” Nancy said. “No sign of this sort of thing until I got home. Look at it. You can’t even see down to Elizabeth Bay.”

  Sue agreed. “It’s that murky, you can’t even see the end of Nield Avenue.”

  After lunch the girls quizzed me about why I hadn’t been met at the station. I told them about the big kid and how I got away, then got lost, that I didn’t know Fred’s address, but had tried to ring and got no answer.

  “Have you got your Uncle Fred’s number?” Nancy asked. I searched through my pockets and found it for her.

  “This is a Victorian number. Are you sure your mum said Sydney?” asked Nancy as she picked up the phone and dialled information. “Thankyou, that’s all I need,” she said, putting down the phone. “It’s a Swan Hill number but the operator said it’s been disconnected for at least six months,” said Nancy.

  “What are you going to do?” asked Sue, looking concerned. “Can you ring or write your mum?”

  I knew then I would have to tell the girls about the Department. They were horrified. Like most white Australians outside the government and the churches, they didn’t have a clue what was going on.

  “I thought they stopped that years ago,” said Nancy.

  “What will you do?” Sue wanted to know.

  “I don’t really know. If I go home, Mum said they will put me in some welfare home and lock me up, so I think I’ll go up to the sunshine state. They reckon the sun always shines up there, and I’m sick of the rain and the cold. Anyway, if I stay here too long you girls could get into trouble.”

  “Stuff them. You can have a holiday anyway. Stay with us for a while,” Sue said.

  I stayed with the girls a week, arid we did all sorts of things. Lunar park—it was fairyland, wonderland, everything I could ever imagine. I walked around with my mouth hanging open for the first half hour. I wasn’t too keen on some of the rides. The Ferris wheel had me worried— I had never been that high in my life, and I hung on for dear life. Sue and I rode around in an aeroplane ride. It went that fast I got sick, and I put my head over the side and let her rip, and people moved back real quick, I felt dizzy and the world was still spinning around when we got off.

  “Are you still crook?” asked Nancy. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with that rubbish tucker, and the drinks Sue’s been filling you up with?”

  Nah, it couldn’t be that, I thought. That fairy floss is neat, once you learn how to put it in your mouth. And hot dogs—what ace grub. I thought Sue was having a lend of me when she asked me if I wanted a hot dog. “Get out!” I thought. Why would anyone want a hot dog?

  She must have sussed what I was thinking by the look on my face. “It’s in a bun, you eat it,” she said. But I thought, who would want to eat a hairy dog in a bun, hot or not. But I changed my mind when she got it for me. Should have told me it was a snarler in a bun. Comes from America, Nan said. Funny people callin’ a sausage in a bun a dog, but that’s Yanks for you.

  We had a great time in the sideshows, tossing hoops, throwing darts and balls at things, shooting guns, and we won all sorts of treasures, a painted plaster parrot, an ugly little doll on a stick, and an ugly ashtray, made and painted by a lunatic, which we threw in a handy rubbish bin. We agreed at tea that night that a great day was had by all.

  Next day was Friday and Sue went to work. She was a receptionist for a denist—I told her I didn’t want to meet her boss! Nancy was still on holiday, so she and I got a bus up on the corner and went to town. We went to a big shop, where they had a man and a woman driving the lifts. It was a magic place. It was huge, and had all sorts of different things on each floor that the lift stopped at, even a whole playground, Nan told me, with swings and a see-saw, whatever that is, but we didn’t go there. We went to this great big place with lots of chairs and tables, a restaurant, Nan said, and we got a cup of tea, and I got a pie with sauce. Man, it was good. After we left there we went to the wharf, and Nan said we were going to Manly on the ferry. We got tickets and waited on seats in a building by the water, and I saw the ferry come in, big, white and green, whirring and growling as it bumped into the wharf. A man tied it up with a rope, a set of stair things came from somewhere and people came out of the ferry and down the stair thing like chooks being let out of the hen house. We waited until everyone came out and we went on to it. Nan was pulling my hand as we were walking up these stair things, but I was trying to walk on the boards, and miss the gaps. I could see the water under it and that had me worried, as I thought I might fall through one. They were about two inches wide, and it was scary. It was great once we got on board though. We went and sat right up the front, just back from the sharp bit. The water was shining in the sun, and sort of sparkling, like the waves were dancing. I thought it was wonderful. It was a beautiful sunny day, just the day to be on the harbour. There was nearly too much to see, and my eyes were going twenty to the dozen trying to see everything. We saw this huge war boat with big guns sticking out all over the place. Nan said it was a Navy boat, but she didn’t know the name of it. There was a heap of smaller boats around it, some going and some tied up. The houses looked bright and nice—everything looked different from the sea. It was one of the greatest things that had happened to me, the feel of the boat rocking up and down, the fresh clean smell of the wind, sort of laced with the smell of the sea. I can’t describe that, except you could nearly taste it. I was sorry when we got back and banged into the Sydney wharf, and I had to walk on that gappy board thing again.

  “Did you like that?” asked Nancy. I could only thank her, my eyes still shining. How could you describe something as wonderful as that. So she gave me a hug, and I thought she was one of the most wonderful people in the world.

  Sue was home when we got back, and as Nan finished getting tea ready, I bombarded Sue with the tale of our adventure. We had tea and Sue’s boyfriend Colin came over and he was a top bloke. He suggested we go to the movies, so we got dolled up a bit and went. The movie was great, a cowboy movie with Gary Cooper, called “High Noon”—about a sheriff and a gunfighter. I was pretty tired when we got back, so I hit the settee and went out to it straightaway. I woke to the smell of bacon and eggs, and Sue singing and laying the table for breakfast.

  “Good morning, sleepy. You hungry? Up and at it.” She laughed.

  “Turn your back then and let me get up,” I said to her.

  “Garn, sweetie, I don’t mind. You can get dressed in front of me,” she teased.

  “Garn, turn your back and give a bloke a fair go.”

  “Alright, if you won’t show yourself off to me, I’ll go and wake the others,” she said, walking off and laughing.

  I flew into my clothes and got into the bathroom before the others, had a quick wash and brushed my teeth, then went for breakfast. It was a happy affair, all of us laughing and joking.

  We decided to go to the football in the afternoon, and Colin would get the tickets on his way back from work. “Balmain are playing the Bulldogs,” I was told. This must be that funny Footy or Sydney Footy, the girls called it. I thought it was great—tough and fast. The girls were jumping up and down yelling for Balmain and most of the others around us were yelling for the Dogs. It was a bit too scientific for me. None of them looked like the Bombers but it was fun.

  We stayed home that night and Colin stayed over again. We popped corn in a pot
on the stove, and it was delish with butter and salt. “Delish” was a new word the girls taught me—it means better than good they reckon. Colin and the girls taught me to play five hundred. I got it after a while, and Colin and I played the girls and they slaughtered us.

  The next day was Sunday and Colin suggested going to Coogee beach to watch the surf carnival and have a swim in the salt-water pool. They said we could have a picnic on the grass opposite the pub. I was excited too, although I didn’t have the slightest clue what it was all about.

  The day dawned bright and clear, unlike yesterday. We had a leisurely breakfast, cleaned up and hit the road. I found it hard to believe that Sydney was so big. It just seemed to go on forever, house upon house, street after street, shops like an oasis here and there between the houses. I told Colin I would have to tie a ball of wool to the front gate just to find my way home again. He laughed and told me he thought most people did that anyway.

  The surf carnival was great—people for miles all dressed in bathers. The beach races, the march past and the surf-boat races were thrilling. The best was the race for the clubs to sort out the best team and top belt man. (He’s the bloke who actually swims out and does the rescue.) I was glad to see the home club win. Afterwards we went for a swim and then had fish and chips, orange juice and lemonade. The fish and chips were delicious, eaten by the handful and followed by a big swig of drink. The perfect meal for a perfect day.

  We got home about five and I was tired but happy. Sue and Colin went out, and Nancy and I stayed in and listened to the radio. I sat at the big picture window in the sitting room and looked out on the city. I was fascinated by the movement of lights out in the dark—the cars, buses, taxis, neon signs flashing, lights in buildings, boats on the harbour with red and green lights, scudding along like bugs. I must have had a faraway look on my face as Nancy asked me what I was thinking about. I told her I was just wondering what went on out there, and she laughed and told me that if I could work that out I’d solve the mystery of the universe.

  Nancy went off to make a cup of tea, and when she came back I told her that I had decided to go to Queensland on the next night’s train.

  “Have you got enough money for the ticket, love?”

  I pulled out what was left of my five pounds, about four pound something, and showed Nancy.

  “No, you keep that safe. Sue, Colin and I will shout you this one.”

  So at six o’clock the next night Nan was fussing around tucking me into the seat and making sure I had enough tucker to last me twelve months in the black hole of Calcutta. Sue had me in a headlock dripping tears all over me and telling me to write. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t know how. (Numbers I wasn’t too bad with—you only had to match them.) Colin said goodbye with a handshake and a quick squeeze of the shoulder, and told me to look him up anytime I was in Sydney. I said I would. He’s a top bloke Colin. I felt a bit sad seeing them on the platform, waving to me as the train pulled out.

  3

  Heading north

  It was a pretty quiet trip to Brisbane. With the tucker Nan had packed, and the couple of big bottles of lemonade Colin had got me, I didn’t even bother getting off at the refreshment stops.

  There was a girl, “Lucy”, sitting on the seat opposite me. We got talking, and she told me she had been at boarding school, whatever that is, but now she was on her way home for holidays. She told me about chums and forms and mistresses and misses. It was so riveting I nearly went to sleep. But she was a nice girl and had a lovely voice, so I listened to her prattle all the way to Brisbane.

  I got off at the interstate terminal in South Brisbane, and caught a local train into the city, to Roma Street. I followed the crowd until I came to a main street. But it was pretty dismal, drizzling with rain and miserable, so I decided to go back to South Brisbane and get the train north.

  I’d heard one of the guards tell his mate that the train north went at eight o’clock, so I would have to be quick. It was just on seven when I got back to the station so I had an hour to wait. I went into the tea room and ordered tea and two rounds of toast. That’s what Mum and I always had, and I liked toast. There was a big poster on the wall with a picture of a girl in bathers holding a ball, with palm trees and a big yellow sun behind her. It had writing as well and I guessed the big writing said Queensland, but I was still trying to work out what the rest said when the lady brought the tea and toast. It hit the spot nicely, just what I needed to warm me up, and it only cost me one and six. I found a lady in the tiniest shop you ever saw—if she coughed, there would be shop for miles! I bought a bottle of orange and a ham sandwich from her and put them in my port for after, then got another bottle of orange and a magazine full of pictures and sat quietly until train time.

  I wondered what Mum would be doing and that made me a bit sad, so then I wished I was with the girls back in Sydney. I was just feelin’ a bit lost and lonely.

  The train came in and I did my usual act—I found a lady with kids and tacked on behind, walking onto the platform with them and boarding the train, a ripper big silver job with seats that lay down and carpet on the floor. An old lady got on and sat next to me. Boy, she must have been a hundred years older than Nancy. She was a crabby old thing who snored and farted in her sleep. Man! she was right off.

  I made the Guard happy again. “Ticket son?” He held out his hand.

  “Mum’s got it up front,” I told him.

  He gave me a smile and patted my head and walked off, happy as Larry. I think they used to forget me.

  Granny smelly pants asked me where I was going, and as I had heard someone talking about Townsville, I told her I was going there for holidays. I didn’t know it but my luck had taken a step up the ladder. I met another boy called Roy, who was about twelve and was going to Cairns with his mother. She was really nice and took us up to the club car and got us Monopoly, Snakes and Ladders, and draughts. Draughts are those checker things and Roy taught me to play them.

  The train mob thought I was with Roy and his mum, Sylvia, so I never got asked for tickets or anything until I got to Townsville. It took two days and one night and I really enjoyed it. But like all things it came to an end, and when the train pulled into Townsville station, Roy and Sylvia walked down to the gate with me to say goodbye. Roy and I shook hands, Sylvia gave me a big hug, and I gave them a wave as the train pulled out. As I was walking out the gate, a pimply youth said, “Got your ticket?”

  I looked at him in surprise and, as he had seen us saying goodbye, I said, “My auntie’s got it. I forgot to get it off her. She’s going to Cairns.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” he said, opening the gate for me, and I walked out of the station drive and onto the main street.

  Townsville is a pretty place. A river divides the town and the main street follows the river around to its mouth and the sea. I got some fish and chips, and a big bottle of soda squash, and walked up the main street until I came to a little park just around the corner from Tattersals pub, right on the beach. It had swings and seats looking out to sea. I sat on one of the seats and ate my meal, and then I must have dropped off to sleep. I woke feeling uneasy, and standing around me were a couple of Murri blokes and a sheila.

  I sat up and grabbed my bag. As I said before, you can sus a pig. The girl looked nice, but one of the blokes I wouldn’t trust with hundred quid notes hanging out of his pockets. He looked like he’d pinch, the pennies off a dead man’s eyes.

  “G’day. You on your todd?” asked the girl.

  “Nah. Mum said I could play on the swings while she does some shopping.”

  I knew they were after any money I might have. Roy and I had talked about this. Seeing I had no shoes or socks to hide my money in, I had tied two pounds in my hanky and knotted it around my neck. I had about fifteen bob in my pocket, a ten-bob note and the rest in change. The girl gave me a hard-luck story—nothing to eat, nowhere to stay, could I help? I liked her, so I told her I only had five bob, and if she would b
e happy with half, I would give her half, two and six. She thanked me and said it would help, so I gave it to her and told her she’d better float, before Mum came back. Thanking me, she and the blokes took off, and so did I, straight back to the main street.

  I realised I would have to watch out for this sort of thing in future. This time it had cost me only two and six, so I was lucky. I could have been bashed and had everything I owned taken, including all my money.

  I slept in the park that night, under this big spreading bush, as far under as I could get. Next morning I walked north up the road paralleling the beach, and at the end of the footpath, nestled under the dunes, I found a public toilet and showers. I dropped all my gear and got under the shower straight away. Oh, what bliss! I felt like I was washing ten ton of dirt off. I washed my shirt and shorts while I was about it, brushed my teeth, put on my spare gear, then lay out my shirt and shorts on the grass at the foot of the dunes to dry. I sat by them and watched the surfers. I thought they were tremendous and hoped that one day I would be able to do that. After about half an hour in the wind and sun the clothes were dry, so I put them back in my port and headed back for the main street.

  I dawdled down the street, looking in shop windows, taking my time, until I came to the bridge over the river to South Townsville. The bridge seemed to beckon—white concrete, green handrail, white footpath, black road. It was a humpback shape and didn’t look very big until I got on it and then it was huge. I walked to the very top of the arch and looked around. I saw the grey of the mud between the waterline and the grass of the bank, the different colours of the boats moored on the river and tied up at the bank, the colour and noise of the hustle and bustle of the main street. Across the river, I saw the sweep of Castle Hill rising behind the town, with big imposing houses built on its slopes.

  (Oh, I saw my first coconut palm today, in the front garden of a house on the beach road. It took me a while to recognise it, as I didn’t expect it to be a hundred miles high. I thought you just walked up and picked the coconuts like apples. So you learn something new every day.)