Wandering Girl

by Glenyse Ward

  With a haughty look about herself she strutted out the door, leaving me with feelings of animosity and humiliation. I fumbled through my case to find my nightdress and slowly put it on, blew the flame out and got that old familiar feeling called homesickness. I cried myself to sleep.

  ORANGE JUICE IN THE MORNING

  When I awoke, it was to the shrill sound of the alarm clock. I reached over and turned it off, then lay back on my pillow to familiarize with my new surroundings. When I recalled where I was my heart sank. I jolted out of bed and thought I’d make a good impression on my first day, though I had no heart for it at all.

  I lit the old burner up to see what I was doing. I got my working clothes out of my case, a clean set of underwear, a dress which came down to the ankles, a full length apron, shoes, ankle socks and a scarf so the wind wouldn’t blow my hair around while I was sweeping the driveway.

  It was still pretty dark when I opened up my bedroom door. The wind was blowing and howling, and the light from the lamp was reflecting on every obstacle, making the whole surroundings pretty scary.

  I hesitated, stepped back inside the room, and thought to myself, “I’ll have a wash later on when I finish sweeping, as it will be lighter and I can see a bit better.”

  So I got dressed and tried hard not to be frightened. When I was ready, I picked up the old burner, set all my fears aside, got the old straw broom and started sweeping.

  I put the lantern in between two bushes so the wind wouldn’t blow it out, and with big strokes I began to sweep her driveway. What a job that was! The more I swept the leaves, the more the wind would blow them back on the path.

  When I finished the job I was ready for that wash, all hot and frustrated! By this time it was real light, so I checked again to see if the driveway was clean, put the broom back in the garage and went to my room to hang the old burner up on the hook, then got my toiletries out to have myself a wash.

  The shower room matched up with my bedroom, dull and listless with a terrible dog smell about it. I walked around a bit and came across what I assumed was the laundry. I shut the two doors, and had a wash in one of the big old basins.

  When I finished I chucked Johnson’s baby powder all over me, so I could smell nice, cleaned up the mess I had made, then went around the laundry to use the toilet, which was in the same block. Now that I was all clean, I made my way into the kitchen to wait for Mrs Bigelow to give me my orders for the day.

  Everything was quiet when I went in and sat down at the table. Then I heard someone moving around in the next room. So thinking it was her, I thought I’d better go in, say “Good Morning”, and let her know I was there.

  I poked my head around the door and saw Mr Bigelow sitting there having a cup of coffee and reading the paper, I said “Good Morning Sir!”

  He never lifted an eyelid. He just told me to go and wait in the kitchen for Mrs Bigelow. I felt ashamed and embarrassed as I went back into the kitchen to sit down.

  I heard her coming. She had a pompous, stately look about her, which made me feel timid and afraid. She asked me if I had completed sweeping the driveway? I said, “Yes”, then she turned to me to tell me about another job she would like me to do.

  Before breakfast I was to go down a fair way from the house where her orchard grew. On one side of it was a paddock in which one orange tree stood alone behind a high fence. I was to go over and pick two oranges, run back to the house, squeeze the juice into a clean glass and put a starched doyley over it, as when she got up in the mornings she must have fresh orange juice.

  I asked her if she wanted me to go and do the job at once? She said, “Yes”, so off I went to tackle it.

  On my way down to the paddock, I stopped to view the country side. Very pretty, the gullies and the sweeping plains. The big hills that surrounded the property brought memories to me of my home!

  When I got to the big fence, I wondered how I was going to climb over it without ripping my clothing. I tucked my dress in my bloomers, chucked my shoes off, and with shaky, wobbly vibrations climbed over the fence, ran to the tree and picked two oranges off. Then it was back over, shoes on, and back to the house to get her juice ready for her.

  She was already sitting at the breakfast table in the dining room, so I bolded in bravely and put the orange juice in front of her - only to be scolded and reminded in a harsh manner, that I wasn’t allowed in the dining room while any member of the family was there, unless she rang the bell, then I had to go in and see to her needs.

  I begged her pardon, and asked if I might have my breakfast?

  She told me I was to use my tin plate and mug. I could help myself to weeties, have one piece of bread and butter and a cup of tea - bacon and eggs were out for her dark slave.

  So I thanked her and went into the kitchen to satisfy my appetite. I piled my tin plate high with weeties, because in the mission weeties were like a luxury to us kids.

  We only had them once a week. That was every Sunday after church. If we never sang our songs, or said our prayers during church, our punishment was that we got no weeties! The nuns used to stand in line behind us in the pews and check to see who was singing. So we sang till our lungs just about burst, as we knew we could look forward to a nice bowl of weeties. Although they were put into a big pot of boiling water and used to go all mushy, they were still weeties and a far cry from old starchy porridge and mouldy bread with buttermilk. If the kids at the mission could see me now helping myself to the weeties, fresh milk and plenty of sugar, how envious they would be.

  I wasn’t quite sure how much weeties I could have. I just helped myself, and ate quickly before she came in to tell me that I had enough! After I finished eating, I sat back feeling rather bloated. The bell rang. I jumped up and went in to see what she wanted.

  She was wiping away the traces of her breakfast from around her mouth in a rather disdainful manner. She put down her serviette to tell me that she was writing down a list of duties for me, and that she expected the jobs to be done properly. In the meantime I was to go into the kitchen and tidy it up and wait till she was ready for me with her list.

  So I walked back into the kitchen to tidy up. I was beginning to feel like a zombie, beginning to feel that my sanity was slipping. To hang on to it, I thought I’d sing a few songs and get rid of those remorseful feelings I had churning up inside of me. So I started to sing one of my favourite songs, learnt at the mission: “I love to go a’wandering along the mountain track...”

  I had really engrossed myself and my thoughts into my song, when I was startled and interrupted rudely and told to stop that dreadful noise.

  I must have really upset her this time as her face was red as a beetroot. She told me she was very cross with me, as I was here as her servant, and she wasn’t allowing her servants to go around making noises. She stated I was here to work for her, and if I wasn’t going to listen to her I would be reported to the mission. Then she asked me, “Do you understand me clearly?”

  I said, ‘Yes, Mrs Bigelow,” but deep down inside, I couldn’t understand her and her attitude towards me. I thought she was quite a strange person. I didn’t dare say anything, or speak out for fear of being scolded; I had to just grin and bear it.

  You see, in those days I thought that’s how people treated you. I didn’t know any other way of life. This was the first place I had come to fresh out of the mission, so I was starting to feel a little bit resentful towards her.

  I continued on with my work. When she came in and handed me my list of jobs I nearly buckled at the knees. I felt very weak at the thought of all that work. She just told me to pull myself together, and follow her as she would show me around the house and where to find the cleaning things.

  I felt frightened as I didn’t know how I’d keep my energy or strength of mind up; frightened, for fear I might not finish in the time she wanted me to, and I would end up getting a scolding.

  While I followed on beside her, she was pointing out particular jobs that needed doing
. I couldn’t quite focus my mind, or pay attention to her. My mind was far away, thinking of home and how the other kids were getting on. I wouldn’t feel so bad if some of them were here with me, I’d feel real happy. But I knew that was not to be.

  When she left me standing there with the list in my hands, my mind came back to reality. I started on my first duty which was to gather all the silver and brassware, and polish and shine it until I could see my face in it. Then I had to go around and wax and polish all the woodwork - from windows to skirting boards. Even the bricks around the fire place had to be polished! Then I had to wash and sponge the carpet down. Then all the windows had to be cleaned. After all that was done, on to the next room, and go through the same routine.

  I had to put every effort into making this room spotless. It was the room where she entertained all the Very Important People. Mr Bigelow was Lord Mayor of the town and surrounding districts.

  People used to come from everywhere - not that it mattered to me, I was only there to clean and sweep up.

  Whenever they were entertaining or having a party at night, I was never allowed to be seen. I had to go straight to bed. My orders were, I was not allowed anywhere near the house. It was out of bounds to her dark servant, because she didn’t want the embarrassment of me amongst her supercilious friends. The sight of me might have put their toffee noses out of joint!

  I shall never forget one of those lavish parties she threw. All the High Society was there. I remember the preparation I had to put into it - forever cleaning, mopping, shining things up for days. Her daughter came from town to help her mother. I couldn’t see any sense in why she came, since I had to do everything.

  As well as my cleaning jobs, I had to do all the kitchen duties, like preparing the vegies, washing the pots, pans, cleaning the walls etc., etc... making sure the pantry was spotless, washing and waxing the lino of the kitchen floor - all her daughter did was stir the pots of food on the stove.

  I heard her say to her daughter that this party was something to do with elections. I didn’t understand what that meant, I just carried on with my work, getting things ready so everything would look nice for her party.

  Now on the night, she came to me all done up in a long lime green evening gown. Her daughter was there too, dressed in a silvery white gown. Like her mother she was dainty, with a turned up nose and plenty of rouge and lipstick on. A real pretty kid, as we say.

  Their necklaces and earrings were of beautiful pale blue colours, but with all that make-up and rouge on, they both looked like clowns. As I’d never seen women dressed up like that it was something new to me - I thought they looked quite comical!

  Anyway, she came over to give me strict instructions. When all her guests arrived, I was to take her two grandchildren into the back room - what she used to call the sleepout. I was to look after her grand-kids in that room. I wasn’t allowed to show myself to her guests, so she left me and the kids there while she went to greet them.

  I settled the kids down. When they fell asleep, I looked out the door - cars were everywhere. I took a look at the kids, they were sound asleep. So I thought I’d better go and help Mrs Bigelow, me feeling sorry for her and thinking she might need a hand with all those people. So kind-hearted me bolded into the V.I.P. room, looking like a real Orphan Annie.

  Soon as I opened the door all the chatter and laughter stopped. You could hear a pin drop as all eyes were on me. All of a sudden, some poshed-up voice, with a plum in her mouth, came out of the crowd, “Tracey dear, is this your little dark servant?”

  I just stood there smiling. I thought it was wonderful that at last people were taking notice of me. There were sniggers and jeers from everywhere. I turned to the lady who did all the talking, and said, “My name is Glenyse”. She was quite startled; she said, “Oh dear, I didn’t think you had a name”.

  At the time, I didn’t understand what she was going on about. Mrs Bigelow came over to me and said in the sweetest voice, “It’s alright dear, you may go to bed now”.

  This was a shock to my system. I thought, “My luck has changed.” At last she felt sorry for me, which stirred my emotions up, as she ushered me out of the room, and waited till we got out of hearing distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!”

  I was so taken aback I nearly wet myself. I told her in a very shaky voice that I only wanted to help her. She replied that I had disgraced her in front of all her friends. I went to my room crying with shame and anger.

  I lay back on my bed, and began to hate the place and the people in it. I wondered what could be so bad about me?

  MY ATTITUDE

  In the morning I got up and did my usual jobs. When I went in to breakfast, she came and told me she was going into town. I was to clean all the party stuff away. I could sense she wasn’t happy with me. The feeling was mutual!

  While she was in town she was going to ring the priest up at the mission to tell him of my behaviour as somehow or other she couldn’t quite get through to me. I wasn’t doing what she wanted me to do. As far as my work went I was all right, but my attitude towards her... she supposed I was very ignorant.

  When she left I sort of shrugged my shoulders. If there was any ignorance, I felt it was on her part, but in those days it was wiser if you didn’t say anything. I went about cleaning up the breakfast dishes, then I started in the party room. What a mess that was! It took me all morning to clean and polish, as a lot of drinks had been spilt on the carpet and furniture. They were stained terrible, so I had to do a double cleaning job. Then I went out to the shed to where she kept her wood.

  Before leaving she had ordered me to chop wood and stack the wood boxes up full. When I reached the wood shed, which was near the chook yard, I found the unsplit logs piled right up to the roof. They weren’t easy to get at but I pulled some down, got the axe out from under an old bench, and chopped away at the wood, letting all my frustrations out.

  One of her sons was out in a lounge chair, relaxing and reading the paper under a shady tree. It was Robert, the younger one, who seemed more friendly than the rest of them. He did at least answer me when I had to speak to him. That morning I could feel his eyes on me so I sort of got behind the door a little bit, as I felt shame, bending down and picking up wood in front of him. He must have sensed it too! When I was ready to go into the lounge room with an armload of wood, he beckoned me over to him.

  I dropped the wood I was holding and went over to him in a very embarrassed state, wondering what he wanted? I put my head down in a bashful way. He told me he was going to town. Would I go in and polish his shoes?

  I didn’t even look at him, glad for the chance to get away. I took off to the shoe stand to clean his shoes. When I finished that I had to place them just outside his bedroom door. Robert was inside and must have heard me. He poked his head out of the doorway, telling me to clean his room up while he was in town. I nodded my head and went on my way down the passage.

  In a way I was glad that I would be on my own. I started collecting up the wood again, sort of keeping myself busy until Robert was ready to go. I made sure he could see me working, just in case he met his mother in town. He could let her know that I was toiling very hard when he left.

  All the same I couldn’t wait for him to go as I was dying to raid the fridge and have a good feed, then have a bash at the old piano.

  I had learnt to play mainly by teaching myself at the mission. We had singing lessons every Saturday afternoon with Sister Anneburg. She taught us mostly hymns and folk songs - fifty of us at a time gathered around the piano in the dining room.

  When the nuns weren’t around to stop us, we girls used to slip into the dining room for some practise. That was one good thing about kitchen duties - you could sneak off to the piano. If the nuns were at their prayers we could have as long as two hours to ourselves having fun and making lots of noise.

  I heard the car start up. I waited back in the shed for awhile then heard Robert drive off and I jumped with glee. Cautiou
sly I checked everything out, then went into the kitchen and helped myself to cold meat and salads.

  After I cleaned up I felt very good and at ease. I went into the room where the piano was. I made sure to sit at the window, where I could see down the driveway. Thinking, “This will fix the old girl”, I played songs and sang to my heart’s content for most of the afternoon. If she could have seen me she would have had a fit!

  Then I took a break. I sat back and looked around the room, trying to remember if all my jobs were done, as it was getting late. I got up from the piano and polished all the keys to make sure my fingerprints were not on them.

  Then I found an old photo album in her chest of drawers, so I sat back in her rocking chair and browsed through the book. One thing I loved was dwelling on the past of times gone by, of people and places. There seemed to me to be some enchantment about photos and things.

  There were photographs of her wedding and of her family when they were younger. So stern and resolute in their looks and dress - even the children looked that way. I had to giggle a bit as the kids looked so funny, especially the boys in their big baggy shorts and braces. And crew cut hair. Little did I realize that’s how all of us used to look as kids, even more so, as their clothes were in fashion, while ours were way out of fashion.

  As I got up to put the book back I happened to glance down the road. I saw her just getting back into her car after opening the gate. Extremely nervous, I quickly pushed the chair back, checked to see that all was in order, then went out the door quick as a flash, ran to her garden hose, switched it on and made out I was hard at work watering her garden.

  I heard the garage door slam. She came around to where I was and told me she had a long talk with the priest at the mission, and if my attitude towards her didn’t change I wouldn’t be allowed back later on for my holidays. Then she told me to go and collect her shopping from the car and take it into the kitchen.