Marly and the Goat

by Lucia Masciullo

  ‘Has this goat been very noisy?’ Councillor Jim continued.

  ‘Yes!’ cried Nolene. ‘Yes!’ She waved her hands around madly, almost knocking the small bowl of Minties off the table. Marly stifled a nervous giggle as Councillor Jim ducked to avoid being hit by one of Nolene’s hands. ‘That goat bleats! It blehs and mehs all day!’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Marly said. ‘She’s usually very quiet. None of the other neighbours on either side of us have complained.’

  Marly realised that something she’d said seemed to get Councillor Jim’s attention, because he suddenly looked at Marly and rifled through his folder. He laid a map in front of Nolene and asked her to point out how far Marly’s house was from her own.

  ‘Oh,’ said Councillor Jim. ‘You live across the road from this family. So, how exactly is the goat causing a nuisance to you?’

  ‘The blasted animal is so loud, you can hear it a mile away!’ hollered Nolene. ‘Also, the old man brings it over to eat our grass.’

  Marly was only halfway through translating what Nolene had said to Grandpa, but had to stop and let them all know what a liar Nolene was. ‘That’s not true!’ she said. ‘Grandpa only walks Agnes to empty blocks of land where there is grass growing high.’

  Councillor Jim turned to Marly and Grandpa. ‘There are council rules against having certain pets. Animals that could cause a nuisance to neighbours. It seems that, to Ms Fryer, your goat falls under this category. Please translate this to your grandpa.’

  Marly didn’t need to – Grandpa was watching the stern expression on Councillor Jim’s face, and the smug look on Nolene’s. Marly watched Grandpa put his head in his hands and slump his shoulders. He looked defeated. Oh no, Marly thought. They might never see Agnes again! Grandpa would just sink into the couch, waiting to die.

  Marly turned to Nolene, who seemed so happy watching Grandpa’s misery. At that moment, Marly hated this woman. Giving up now would mean that Nolene would always find something to complain about. Nolene didn’t work, so she could take all the time in the world going to these meetings and courts, but Marly’s parents did work and Marly needed to go to school. They’d always be fighting while people like Nolene got their way. Well, there was no way Marly was going to let that happen! Marly was tired of it all. If those blasted dogs across the road were allowed to bark all night long and keep her mum awake, then why couldn’t Agnes, who hardly made a sound, be allowed to . . .

  That’s it! thought Marly, interrupting her own train of thought. Those dogs!

  ‘Ms Fryer’s next-door neighbour has two dogs!’ Marly blurted out.

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ demanded Nolene.

  ‘The two dogs are massive,’ said Marly. ‘And they bark all the time.’

  ‘Is this true, Ms Fryer?’

  Nolene was silent. Marly watched her face go through a range of expressions until her bright red mouth set into an angry straight line.

  ‘What’s this got to do with the blasted goat?’ Nolene snapped.

  ‘Could you describe what kind of dogs your other neighbour has?’

  ‘I have no freaking idea.’

  ‘I know!’ piped up Marly. ‘They’re Dobermans.’ She had seen some Dobermans on the seven o’clock news, and Marly knew that her neighbours’ dogs looked very similar.

  Councillor Jim turned to face Nolene. ‘Is this true? Does your neighbour have two Dobermans?’

  ‘Maybe. So what?’

  ‘Those are known for excessive barking,’ said Councillor Jim. ‘And they live closer to you than does this goat.’

  ‘But those are dogs. They’re different to a goat!’ protested Nolene. ‘We can’t allow ordinary backyards to have goats! Soon those new refugees will think it’s okay to have a horse, a cow, a pond of ducks, a donkey!’

  ‘But that’s not the issue you raised in your complaint, Ms Fryer,’ Councillor Jim said. ‘You said the goat was a nuisance. But you have failed to prove that. In light of the new information about the noisy dogs from Marly and yourself, I really don’t see how one goat’s bleating could be causing you distress, especially when the dogs don’t seem to be. The owner’s granddaughter tells me that the goat is leashed when it goes on walks. It is well looked after. It has a big backyard. It is no more of a nuisance than a pet dog. So, Ms Fryer, I am afraid you will just have to learn to get along with your neighbours. I am aware this is not the first time you have made a complaint about a neighbour, is it?’

  ‘And this is not the first time you have not taken me seriously!’ yelled Nolene. ‘Youse never take me seriously. Not when those filthy Greek neighbours were roasting meats in their backyards. Not when those Indians were stinking up the street with their curries. I am fed up with the uselessness of the government!’

  Marly stood straight up, making Grandpa jump. It felt like everything was suddenly becoming clear. She finally understood what all this was about.

  ‘You’ve never liked us, have you? From the moment you saw us, you’ve always wanted us out of the street! Well, we live here, too, and we belong here just as much as you do!’

  ‘Oh how dare you?’ cried Nolene. ‘This isn’t even your country!’

  ‘Well, it’s not yours either!’ yelled Marly, ignoring Grandpa, who was tugging at her sleeve, trying to get her to be quiet. ‘This country belonged to the aboriginal people, but I don’t see them trying to kick you out!’

  ‘Now Marly,’ warned Councillor Jim. ‘Take it easy there . . .’

  ‘You just wait, you chinks,’ snarled Nolene. ‘You just wait until we get rid of youse. Job-stealers. Dirty mongrels.’

  ‘Ms Fryer, that’s enough!’ yelled Councillor Jim. ‘Making threats is a criminal offence! Do not harass this family any longer. Otherwise, you’ll be taken to a real court, and have an intervention order placed against you.’

  Marly saw that Nolene looked furious.

  ‘Always sticking up for the chinks, eh?’ she yelled. ‘This government doesn’t care about ordinary Australians anymore! Bloody useless, the lot of ya!’ And with that, she stormed out.

  ‘She is wrong,’ Councillor Jim said. ‘We do care about ordinary Australians. And your family, as ordinary, law-abiding Australians, should be protected from such bullies. But don’t worry. Nolene is full of empty threats. She appears at the council so many times that we’re sick of seeing her.’

  Marly translated for Grandpa, and watched his back straighten. He nodded at Councillor Jim. He looked relieved, sad and dignified all at once, Marly thought.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Marly said, feeling excited and happy as they walked to the bus stop. ‘We won, Grandpa! We get to keep Agnes!’

  Grandpa stopped walking. He did a little spin and, best of all, a moonwalk!

  Marly laughed and clapped as Grandpa spun around. He had a reason to dance again.

  AS the bus slowed down for their stop, Marly could see Grandma waiting for them. She was wearing her triangular hat and holding Marly’s yellow umbrella.

  ‘What happened? What happened?’ she demanded as soon as Grandpa and Marly stepped off the bus. ‘Did you win?’

  ‘Of course we won!’ said Grandpa. ‘This little girl here is a gem, I tell you! Not only did she translate for me, but just when I thought that we had lost, she stood up and yelled and made the Councillor change his mind. What exactly did you say, Marly?’ asked Grandpa.

  Marly explained about the dogs as best as she could, although she wished Grandpa hadn’t told Grandma that she’d yelled. She didn’t want Grandma to tell her off and ruin this feeling. She couldn’t wait to get Agnes and Chooky back. She’d missed them both, but Agnes especially.

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Grandma.

  Oh no, here we go, thought Marly.

  ‘Well, I suppose this girl having such a loud voice is good for something,’ Grandma said.

  Marly’s mouth dropped open as she looked at Grandma.

  ‘Your cousin Rosie could never have done what you did,’ Grandma sai
d. ‘She wouldn’t have the guts. She’s too demure and obedient. But you! Well, you could be a lawyer one day.’

  Wow, thought Marly, unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face. This was the closest Grandma had ever got to praising her.

  ‘Don’t stand there smirking like a chimp!’ Grandma told her. ‘A nice girl should always cover her teeth when she smiles.’

  Oh well, thought Marly. I guess there’s no changing some people.

  Marly was squeezed between her grandparents in the back of the car. They were on their way to Hoppers Crossing to see Agnes and Chooky. Marly sat forward and gazed out the windscreen, eager to get there and see Agnes. She had an apple in her pocket to give to her as a treat.

  ‘This countryside is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,’ Grandpa said. ‘Such neat and orderly fields. So few houses.’

  Marly’s dad drove the car up a long driveway, to a large cottage with a silver tin roof. Peter was sat outside, waiting for them.

  ‘You’re here! Now come have a look at ya goat,’ Peter said to Grandpa, giving him Agnes’s leash and leading him to the green paddock.

  Marly followed, and her parents traipsed along behind with Grandma. Marly counted fourteen sheep dotted around the enormous paddock – some in the distance looked like cotton wool. Then she spotted Agnes. Agnes ran a little way, before stopping to munch on some grass. She looked happy in the field, with so much space around her, Marly thought.

  ‘Go and get her,’ Peter said gently to Grandpa. ‘She’s been waiting for you.’

  Marly started to follow, but felt a hand press on her shoulder.

  ‘Let Grandpa have a moment alone with Agnes,’ her mum said.

  Marly watched him slowly walk up to Agnes, so as not to startle her, and give her a little pat. Agnes nudged Grandpa’s hand.

  ‘Ah, she still remembers me,’ said Grandpa.

  But Marly could tell that Grandpa did not have the heart to throw the leash around Agnes’s neck. They could all see how happy she was in her paddock, free to roam with her sheep friends. Marly suddenly realised that this is what the council lady had meant by farmland. Not Grandpa’s backyard.

  Grandpa walked back towards them, away from Agnes. ‘Let her stay,’ he said. ‘She is happier here. This farm is the best place for Agnes.’

  Marly knew that Grandpa really loved Agnes, because he was willing to do what was best for her, even if he didn’t want to. Marly explained what Grandpa said to Peter, who nodded. He understood, too, Marly realised.

  ‘Well, you can come back any weekend and spend time on my farm,’ Peter said. ‘You can all come, and you can milk your goat and take the milk back with you.’

  Marly translated this for Grandpa, who looked very pleased and nodded at Peter.

  ‘But you’ve got to take your chicken back. It lays some very fine eggs.’ Peter led them to a large, grassy area, fenced off by wire mesh. Chooky was in a dark shed, where the chickens slept at night, Peter told them. Chooky looked very comfy, sitting on a pile of hay.

  ‘Ahh, good old Chooky,’ Grandpa sighed.

  Marly took a step closer to Chooky, wanting to give her a stroke to say hello. Just then, five fluffy yellow baby chicks popped out from beneath her!

  ‘Chooky’s had babies!’ Marly squealed.

  Peter laughed. ‘Take them, they’re yours. I’ll come over next weekend and help your grandpa build a proper pen.’ Peter put the chicks into a cardboard box, and Chooky in a carry-cage.

  As they walked back to the car, Marly shouted that she’d catch up, and walked over to the paddock again, to Agnes.

  ‘Hey, Aggie,’ she said, wrapping her arms around Agnes’s neck, just like she used to. She let Agnes nuzzle her neck before taking the apple out of her jacket pocket and feeding it to her. While Agnes munched away, Marly thought about everything that had happened since her grandparents arrived. ‘I’m sorry that our neighbours were mean, Agnes, and didn’t want you around. But look at where you are now! It’s so beautiful here, and you have so much grass to eat, and no leash. Me and Grandpa will come and see you all the time, and I promise to always bring you an apple,’ Marly said.

  Agnes nuzzled her face under Marly’s arm, before running across the paddock to where some sheep were. She looks like she’s skipping, Marly thought, and she knew that they were doing the right thing, leaving her here.

  ‘Marly!’ her mum shouted.

  Marly ran over to her, and they walked back to the car together. She could see her dad helping Grandpa into the front seat, and Grandma holding the box of chicks. While they were walking, Marly’s mum suddenly grabbed Marly’s hand and placed it on her stomach. Marly felt a little flutter.

  ‘Was that a kick, Mum? Does it hurt?’

  Marly’s mum smiled. ‘No, it used to feel like butterflies, but now it feels like a small nudge.’

  Marly kept her hand there, wondering what her little brother or sister would be like.

  ‘We hope this little baby will grow up to be as brave as his older sister one day,’ Mum said.

  Marly smiled, feeling warm inside from her mum’s words. She hadn’t felt brave through any of it, not when she called up the council, or went with Grandpa to the hospital, or went to the council meeting. She’d felt annoyed and scared, frustrated and powerless.

  But, she realised, if you make yourself do things that you don’t want to do, then maybe that’s what it is to be brave.

  My parents were born in Cambodia. My mum worked in a plastic bag factory when she was only 13 years old, and my dad’s family owned that factory. That’s how my parents met!

  In 1975 there was a war in Cambodia and my parents were separated. Four years later they met again in Vietnam, and romance blossomed. In December 1980, my parents came as refugees by boat to Australia. I was born a month later. Dad named me Alice, because he thought Australia was a Wonderland. I was their first Australian Girl. Like Marly, I grew up in the western suburbs of Melbourne, behind a carpet factory. Braybrook was a very multicultural neighbourhood and I had friends from all over the world.

  My husband Nick is from countryside Corryong. We have travelled all over the world, but when we think of home we always think of Australia.

  I was born and grew up in Italy, a beautiful country to visit, but also a difficult country to live in for new generations.

  In 2006, I packed up my suitcase and I left Italy with the man I love. We bet on Australia. I didn’t know much about Australia before coming – I was just looking for new opportunities, I guess.

  And I liked it right from the beginning! Australian people are resourceful, open-minded and always with a smile on their faces. I think all Australians keep in their blood a bit of the pioneer heritage, regardless of their own birthplace.

  Here I began a new life and now I’m doing what I always dreamed of: I illustrate stories. Here is the place where I’d like to live and to grow up my children, in a country that doesn’t fear the future.

  In the 1950s, after the Second World War, there were more than 100 factories in Sunshine, and it was a booming industrial area. The most famous factory was the Sunshine Harvester Works. The largest paint factory in the southern hemisphere, Taubmans, was also in Sunshine. Many Italian, Greek, Maltese and Eastern-European immigrants worked in these factories.

  However, by the 1970s, factories had started to close down, or move overseas where they were cheaper to run. People lost their jobs, and many local residents now depended on government money to survive.

  The White Australia Policy, a government plan that encouraged white people to settle Marly’ Time in Australia, ended in 1973. Australia started accepting boat refugees, like Marly’s family, from the Vietnam War in the late 1970s. By 1982, 58,000 Vietnamese, Cambodians and ethnic Chinese had arrived in Australia. Refugees arrive in a new country with very little, and so they live in areas where houses are cheap to rent. This is how families like Marly’s ended up in Sunshine.

  At the same time, Sunshine residents k
ept losing their jobs, and there was a lot of anger against the new refugees, as people believed that the government had sent them to steal their jobs. However, many refugees did not work in the factories but at home in their garages, sewing for very little money.

  Many schools in Victoria tried to fight the racism by teaching students about different cultures. This was called multi-culturalism, and it helped kids of different backgrounds to accept each other.

  Many immigrants to Melbourne, including Italians and Greeks as well as Asian refugees, grew vegetables in their backyards. The plants they grew were the fruits and vegetables that they were used to growing and eating in their home countries, and which they struggled to find in their local grocery stores.

  ‘Marly!’ Grandma shouted from the garage. ‘Where is that rascally girl?’

  It sounded to Marly like Grandma was on a mission, and Marly wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of it. She walked into the garage, but her knees went weak when she found her mum lying on the floor. A box had been knocked over, and spilled skirt pockets lay scattered across the concrete.

  ‘What happened?’ Marly ran to her mum, who clutched her stomach and groaned.

  ‘Your mum is having her baby, that’s what!’ yelled Grandma. ‘Go call your dad. NOW!’

  Marly ran into the house and dialled the factory. As she stood listening to the phone ring, her breathing slowed, and she realised, I’m going to have a little brother or sister!

  5 QUESTIONS FOR ALISON LLOYD, AUTHOR OF THE LETTY BOOKS

  How are you and Letty similar, and how are you different?

  Letty loves lace and those gorgeous Victorian dresses because I do and I wanted to have them in the Our Australian Girl books! Letty is a younger sister, whereas I was a bossy older sister, but we are both trustworthy and responsible. Letty loves babies, more than I did when I was a kid. And she had a tougher childhood than I did.