Wandering Girl

by Glenyse Ward

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. He answered with a faraway look on his face, “How long will you be working here, lassie?” I was very concerned now. “Bill, why are you asking me that?” He cleared his throat and in a shaky voice said he was at the end of the road. I asked him, “What road?” as I never understood what he was talking about.

  Bill sort of half laughed and explained he wasn’t coming to work for Mrs Bigelow again, he was getting too sick and too old to continue. He was just going home to settle down. Before I could say anything more to him, he went on, “That’s why I asked you how long you will be here. I’m going to miss you, lassie...” His clear blue eyes welled up with water.

  It was hard for me to tell him that I also wanted to leave - I was still afraid to tell anyone. I looked the other way and said I’d made up my mind, I was going - where I didn’t know. “But I’m going,” I told him, as I put my head down and drew with my foot in the dirt.

  He put his bony arm around my shoulder. “Good on you, lassie. I knew this place wasn’t meant for you, all along. There’s something better in life for a good hard working girl like you. Go and find it. I’m sure you will.”

  He picked up his rake as if to get on with his job, but he still had something more to say. “I’ll be dead long gone when you grow up and have your little ones. Promise you’ll be a good mother to them.”

  My tears splashed down on the leaves and dust as I whispered to Bill, “I will.” Then he patted me on the back. “Good luck, girl,” he said and hobbled away. I forgot about asking him up for the tea and cake. He left the Bigelows shortly after and I never saw Bill again.

  CHRISTMAS

  After having polished, cleaned up and raked the gardens for a week solid, I was nearly dead on my feet, when me and my mate were both dropped off in town early Christmas morning. We were told we could stay in town all day as Christmas was a time for families - theirs, that is - and we would only be in the way.

  They would pick us up late in the evening to clean up after their families had gone home.

  We were glad to be together again, but both of us were feeling the hurt and pain as this was the first Christmas we had spent alone. We both cried a bit, longing for the love and warmth we had experienced back in the mission. With no presents and no food we felt all alone.

  The streets were empty, though far away in the background we could hear kids screaming and laughing. Then all of a sudden we both got the same idea. We’d walk up the hill and see if there were any nuns in town. If there was anyone who would have compassion, it would surely have to be the nuns. We remembered from our times in town that we had seen kids from the convent on the hill.

  Our walk up there was a bit quiet. It was only when we were coming close to the convent that we began discussing who would be the speaker to explain our situation. We were both frightened that we would get into trouble if the people who employed us found out. But we both took our chances, as we were feeling quite hungry by then - it was near to twelve o’clock.

  Horsey said that I should do the talking because she might break down and cry. When we got to the door I felt very brave. I had everything laid out in my mind as to what I wanted to say.

  As the nun opened the door, I just about fell through the doorway. I broke down and cried, and my mate ended up having to speak up for us.

  After hearing the story of our plight, the nun held her hands out to us and said, “Come in, children!” We were nervous as she told us to follow her down the corridor, and into the chapel.

  We knelt down with the nun and said a prayer. When we were finished, she told us to follow her into the dining room where three other nuns were sitting. The scene reminded us of home and for the first time we felt Christmas in our hearts.

  They had a beautiful Christmas tree with the most effective decorations. The little lights were all the colours of a rainbow, and there were bright coloured tinsels everywhere. The nun who had welcomed us in - I guess she must have been the Mother Superior - introduced us to the other three and explained our situation, then they all got up and left the room.

  When they came back in they had a present each for me and my mate. They served a wonderful Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. We had never felt so happy since we left the mission.

  After dinner we said prayers and joined in singing “Silent Night” with the nuns. Then Mother Superior told us that she had rung a dear friend of hers who owned a farm and that she was coming to pick us up. We could spend the rest of the afternoon down on the farm with this lady and her husband.

  It didn’t take very long for the people to come and get us. They were in their mid-fifties and very pleasant. Both were plump in body with very white hair, the gentleman had a huge red nose and a belly to go with it. He was very short for his build, he reminded me of one of the seven dwarfs - Happy. And when me and my mate glanced at each other, we found it very hard not to laugh. His wife was very much like him in looks and height.

  After Mother Superior introduced us, the lady took our bags, which were laden with our presents and goodies and put them in the car. We climbed into the back seat and went off to a most enjoyable day.

  Before Anne and I went back to our farms, I told her how I felt about those people I worked for. I told her that I had started to hate the place, and had made my mind up to leave as I was sick and tired of their attitude towards me.

  I just couldn’t keep on working for her after meeting people like the nuns and their friends and dear old Bill, who I was going to miss a lot. I felt in myself that I could not continue on anymore, no matter what the circumstances were.

  My mate knew the way I felt and when the people arrived to pick us up, we knew in our hearts that although our goodbyes weren’t forever, perhaps we wouldn’t be meeting at this old school bus-stop ever again.

  A’WANDERING

  One day I was in the kitchen doing a cleaning job when I came across a letter, which was lying on the kitchen bench. It was addressed to me!

  Very rarely did I receive any letters from home. Once I got one from the head priest and it was left on the bench. So I presume she left this one for me the same way.

  I picked it up, feeling very excited, wondering who could be writing to me. I just about tore the letter opening it up and read through it quickly. It was from my mate Kaylene, in Dunsborough. I gave out a sigh of relief. I knew it meant I would be leaving this unhappy place.

  She wrote that I could come anytime. There was a weekly bus from Ridgeway travelling South to Busselton. Kaylene said she would drive in from Dunsborough to meet it every Friday, in case I would be on it. I couldn’t tell Mrs Bigelow about this. I put the letter away safely in my room and went on with my jobs.

  A few weeks passed and I still couldn’t get away. I was worrrying about Kaylene going off to Busselton to meet the bus and me not being on it! But I had to wait for my normal holidays, when I could leave the farm and not be expected back for a couple of weeks. About late summer the time finally came for me to return to the mission to pay them a visit.

  In her usual manner, Mrs Bigelow dropped me off at the bus station and left me to get my own ticket. There were two buses, one to Bunbury and one to Busselton. I went on board the bus to Bunbury, which would connect with the train to Armadale and so take me back to Wandering Mission. I sat there, looking out the window.

  I waited for her car to disappear. Then I jumped up from my seat, went down the aisle, collected my case and changed buses. I then bought my ticket - to Busselton. I was very nervous and confused and felt frightened, as I didn’t think I had the nerve to do it. Deep down inside me I was happy - a lot. I felt a heavy load lift off my shoulders as the bus I was on pulled out.

  So when it was time for me to return to the mission I never turned up. I went the other way! I was hoping Kaylene would be there at the stop in Busselton.

  She welcomed me with open arms. I cried uncontrollably for a couple of minutes, while she kept reassuring me that I was safe and she would look after m
e. I dried my eyes and felt a lot better, while Kaylene gathered my bags and case.

  Before she drove me to her home in Dunsborough, she took me down town into Busselton for a cup of tea and something to eat. On our way she told me how many kids she had, all about herself and her husband’s work.

  She asked me about the farm and the people. I poured everything out to her. Kaylene told me not to worry, she would see I got my own job, but not under those circumstances I’d left behind.

  After a week of swimming and relaxing in my other world, I found I was a human being again. Then a letter came. Father wrote to Kaylene from the mission. Somehow he’d found out where I’d got to, as he was worried why I didn’t turn up at the Armadale station.

  I felt a little sad, and worried as to what would happen to me. “I don’t want to go back to the mission,” I told Kaylene, “I’ll only end up on the farm again.” Kaylene said she was in the bad books with the head priest too, as she encouraged me to come down to her and never let him know I was with her. She reassured me - she’d explain everything to Father when he came, in two days’ time

  So we prepared for the visit. When he arrived, Kaylene stepped outside to greet him. I was back in the kitchen, making a cup of tea, as they came in the front door.

  Kaylene sang out to me, “Come and say hello to Father!” I went through to the lounge nervously and saw Father holding out his hand. I trembled as I shook it, and murmured, “Hello, Father..” Kaylene said she’d leave us alone, as Father wanted to sort things out with me.

  As Father went on to tell me that it was not good for a young girl like me to be out of work too long, I felt uneasy. He said that if I didn’t find a job in three weeks’ time, he was coming to get me and take me back to the mission. I could work there, till he found me a proper position. My heart sank. I dreaded the thought of working on another farm.

  Kaylene knocked on the door and came in with the tea and sandwiches. I started to relax and join in the conversation. After spending the day with us, he left, saying he would keep in touch. Kaylene was to let him know if I did get a job. So we said goodbye to Father.

  The following week, Kaylene drove me into Busselton Hospital to try to get an interview. I was feeling nervous and she took me by the hand. The smell of Dettol hit us straight away. We asked a nurse, “Which way to the office?” She told us to follow her, down the long corridor. We passed a few wards. Then we were at the office.

  Kaylene knocked again and a firm voice answered inside, “Come in!” I followed her to where this sophisticated man was sitting behind his desk. He looked up at us, smiled, and we smiled back. “What can I do for you?” Kaylene introduced both of us and explained the situation, how I was wanting a job.

  He said he couldn’t help me for the time being, as he had about fifty women on his waiting list, but he could take my name and if anything came up he would let me know. So we thanked this pleasant gentleman with a plump round face and left, feeling dispirited.

  Two weeks after the job interview, I was getting desperate. It was a Sunday and we were having dinner. There was knocking at the door. I went to open it, wondering who it was - could this be Father, coming for me?

  I opened the door, and to my surprise, it was the man from the hospital. He told me to pack my bags and throw them in the hospital ute. He had put me in front of all those ladies! He had even paid two weeks’ rent for me in a boarding house in the town, and I could pay him back when I got to know a few people and could find a place of my own.

  We were thrilled, me and Kaylene - I was a little bit sad to leave her but she said not to worry. “I’ll come and pick you up for days off.” So I said goodbye to Dunsborough for the present and we drove off.

  There was no looking back for me.

  EPILOGUE

  I am happily married now.

  To a very fine Gentleman.

  His name is Charlie,

  A hair-dresser by trade.

  Who had the honour of being

  The Governor’s hair-dresser.

  We are blessed with two beautiful

  Children, a girl we named

  Jodi Anne, who is ten years old,

  And a boy we named

  Brian-Ocean, who is eight years old.

  I named him after my dead brother

  Who I had only seen

  Once in my life.

  There’ll be no washing other

  Peoples’ dishes, or

  Getting dropped off at bus-stops

  For any of my children.

  We will be making sure that our

  Kids will be given every opportunity

  In their lives to get a good education,

  So that they can take their places

  In today’s society as Lawyers or Doctors,

  Or etc. - and be equal in the one human

  Race!

  Glenyse Ward was born in 1949 in Perth, Western Australia. When her mother took her to the doctor’s when she was one year old, she was taken away by the Native Welfare as her mother was deemed to be unfit. She was first put into an orphanage in Rivervale, Perth, until she was three, then she was taken to St Francis Xavier Native Mission at Wandering Brook, eighty miles from Perth.

  She was given elementary schooling, then was made a working girl scrubbing pots and pans until she was fifteen or sixteen when she was sent to do the same work outside the Mission.

  Having run away from her white employers, she worked as a domestic in the kitchen of the Busselton Hospital. She then went to Perth and worked as a nursing assistant in a number of hospitals then joined the Community Health Service.

  She met Charles Ward, who was the private barber for the Governor of Western Australia. They were married in 1975 and have two children. They now live in Broome where Charlie runs a barber shop and Glenyse continues to write. Her books have been published in the U.K. and the U.S.A.

  also by Glenyse Ward

  UNNA YOU FULLAS

  In her first book, Wandering Girl, Glenyse Ward told of her personal quest as a young Aboriginal woman – uprooted from mission life and sent to work as a white fulla’s domestic. In Unna You Fullas, Sprattie takes the road back to Wandering. With poignant humour, she relives the regimented days and mischievous nights of mission kids, driven by their longing for family and home.

  The book is about Aboriginal children looking out for each other as they struggle to conform to the Good Christian Way. It captures their laughter, their tears, their wisdom and the pranks that helped them survive the clash of culture, religion and personality.