They're a Weird Mob

by Nino Culotta

  ‘Yeah,’ said Dixie. ‘I know one.’

  ‘Shut up,’ said Kay. She looked at me, and I saw a little interest in her eyes. She said, ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I am very serious.’

  ‘Seems a cold blooded way to go about it.’

  ‘What’s wrong with the girls in Italy?’ Dixie asked me.

  ‘There are some very nice girls in Italy. But I am not there. I am in Australia.’

  ‘Yeah. Makes a difference, I s’pose. How many have you tried out so far?’

  ‘None. You two are the first.’

  ‘And you drew a blank with me, because of Charlie, drat him.’

  ‘Do you ever smile?’ Kay said.

  ‘Yes.’

  She leaned across the table. ‘Well, smile.’

  I did so.

  ‘Good teeth,’ she said. ‘Let’s have a look at your fingernails.’

  I showed her my hands.

  ‘H’m. Reasonably clean. How often do you shave?’

  ‘Every morning.’

  ‘Your hair needs cutting.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I have not had time.’

  ‘You should make time. It is most important. What size shoes do you wear?’

  ‘Size eight.’

  ‘Any corns?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Bunions?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Varicose veins?’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘You’d know, if you had them. No varicose veins. Have you ever had any serious illness?’

  ‘I had measles when I was a child.’

  ‘Perhaps we can overlook that. Any insanity in your family?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I don’t agree with you, but we’ll skip that. Were your father and mother married?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you are not married?’

  ‘No.’ I laughed.

  ‘All this, and it laughs too.’ There was amusement in her eyes. ‘Okay, when do we start?’

  ‘When do we start what?’

  ‘Courting.’

  Dixie’s voice broke in excitedly. ‘Kay. You’re not serious?’

  ‘Why not. He gets to know me, I get to know him. At the moment I think he’s a nuisance, and he thinks I’m bad tempered. We could both be right, or we could both be wrong. I think I’ll find out.’

  ‘But . . . Golly! Gee! I never thought . . . Charlie! Charlie, come here.’

  A man was entering. He said, ‘I’m coming there. Wot’s up?’

  He came to the table.

  Dixie said, ‘Charlie, this is Nino.’

  I said, ‘How do you do?’ and he said, ‘Hi-yah.’

  ‘Charlie they’re courting.’

  ‘They’re what?’

  ‘Courting.’

  ‘Who is?’

  ‘Kay and Nino.’

  ‘No,’ said Charlie. ‘Gee c’n anybody watch?’

  He pulled up a chair to the head of the table. He put his elbows on the table. So did Dixie. They both watched me.

  Dixie said, ‘Well go on. Start.’

  I was embarrassed. I said, ‘I have already started.’

  ‘Well, keep going.’

  ‘The introduction is the start. This has been accomplished. It is not possible to do any more in public.’

  ‘Men,’ said Dixie. ‘Just like you Charlie. He likes the dark.’

  ‘Don’t blame yer mate,’ said Charlie. ‘Where did yer dig him up, Kay?’

  ‘He dug her up,’ said Dixie.

  ‘No,’ Kay said. ‘He wanted to be interested in Dixie. I took over.’

  ‘Oh did he?’ said Charlie. ‘You could earn yourself a clout on the skull that way, mate.’

  ‘I did not know she was engaged,’ I said.

  ‘No excuse. She’s wearin’ my brand.’

  ‘Her left hand was under the table.’

  He looked at her. His face was stern. ‘Wot game are you playin’?’ he said.

  ‘Don’t be silly. Can I help it if I’m attractive and fascinating to men?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The game I like best,’ I said, ‘is soccer.’

  Kay laughed. It seemed to change her personality. It made her look very attractive.

  I said, ‘You should laugh more often. It makes you look very attractive.’

  ‘Oh, oh,’ said Dixie. ‘It’s on.’

  ‘She looks like a horse when she laughs,’ Charlie said.

  ‘That is not true. She looks very attractive.’

  ‘All right, champ,’ Kay said. ‘The damsel is not in distress. How long have you been in Australia?’

  ‘Quiz session,’ said Dixie, ‘coming up.’

  ‘Keep quiet. I’m only being polite.’

  ‘Polite. You were biting his head off a while ago.’

  ‘That was a while ago. How long have you been in Australia, Nino?’

  ‘Longer than two years.’

  ‘And where do you live?’

  ‘I live at Punchbowl.’

  ‘Punchbowl! What’s wrong with Alice Springs?’

  ‘I do not know. I have not been there.’

  ‘Soccer,’ said Charlie, ‘is a lousy game. Only dills play soccer.’

  ‘Quiet, Charlie,’ she said. ‘Do you always take everything literally?’ she asked me.

  ‘He’s a very literary fellow,’ Dixie said.

  ‘When I first came to Australia, I was. I was working for an Italian publishing house in Milano. I wrote many articles about Australia and Australians.’

  ‘Highbrow,’ said Dixie. ‘That’s why he needs a haircut.’

  ‘Italians are dills,’ Charlie said. ‘They play soccer.’

  ‘Your hands are not the hands of a writer,’ Kay said.

  ‘I do not write now,’ I told her. ‘Now I am a bricklayer.’

  ‘Holy smoke,’ said Dixie. ‘Wouldn’t he be popular at your place Kay? Kay’s old man’s a builder. He reckons he has to pay brickies twice as much as they’re worth. He reckons all writers are parasites. And he can’t stand Italians.’

  ‘Can’t blame him for that,’ Charlie said. ‘Place is gettin’ lousy with ’em.’

  ‘It is only getting lousy with Meridionali,’ I told him. ‘And I don’t care whether Kay’s old man likes Italians or not. And I’m rapidly approaching the stage where I’ve had you. So pull your scone in while it’s still stuck to your neck.’

  Kay applauded, ‘Wow!’ she said. ‘Beware! This animal bites.’

  ‘Are you lookin’ for a thick ear?’ Charlie said.

  ‘You wouldn’t last two minutes,’ I told him. ‘You’d find yourself lying out there in the gutter, and they’d have to get the council to come and shift you. Besides, it is not gentlemanly to fight in front of ladies.’

  Charlie wanted to know, ‘Wot ladies?’

  ‘He’s just cranky ’cause he hasn’t had his tea,’ Dixie said.

  ‘I have had me tea. Went home an’ changed before I come out.’

  ‘Well you et too much.’

  ‘Cold lamb an’ lettuce an’ tomatoes. How could y’eat too much o’ that, this weather?’

  ‘I dunno. But you did.’

  ‘Was you there?’

  ‘No. But I know you.’

  ‘They’re going to have a wonderful life together,’ Kay said.

  ‘Never a dull moment.’

  ‘You keep out o’ this,’ Charlie told her.

  Kay got up. ‘We’ll leave you to your happy little reunion,’ she said. ‘Would you like to escort me through the wilds of Manly, Nino?’

  ‘Yes. I
would like that very much.’

  I helped her to put her raincoat on. She smiled and thanked me.

  She said, ‘See you to-morrow Dixie, if you’re still in one piece.’

  ‘Charlie’s the one who’ll be in pieces,’ Dixie said.

  I said, ‘Goodnight Dixie. And thank you very much. Goodnight Charlie. See you at a soccer match, sometime.’

  Charlie grunted. We went out into the cold street. It was still raining.

  Kay was laughing. She said, ‘I think you’re more than a match for Charlie boy.’

  ‘I am sorry I became irritable.’

  ‘You had a right to be. Charlie’s all right, but he’s terribly jealous. And for no reason, Dixie’s just full of life.’

  ‘She appears to be a very quick witted girl.’

  ‘We work together. I like her.’

  ‘So do I.’

  ‘Yes I noticed that. We go this way.’

  She took my arm. I liked that very much. I looked down at her. I said, ‘Why were you so bad tempered when I came to your table?’

  ‘Sorry about that. I thought you were just another wolf. I’m sick of them.’

  ‘I am a wolf.’

  She laughed. ‘We go around here,’ she said. ‘What a night.’

  ‘We are going to your home? You want me to meet your terrible father?’

  ‘Not to-night . . . you’re taking me as far as the church. I’m going to Benediction.’

  ‘I hoped you would be a Catholic,’ I said. ‘I am one also. I will go with you.’

  She stopped. We stood in the rain and the cold wind, and she said, ‘Nino . . . Don’t count on anything. I’m just . . . getting over some trouble. You call it a broken romance. I’d be scared to start another one.’

  ‘I will not count on anything. We will go to the Benediction.’ We continued walking.

  ‘I love Benediction,’ she said. ‘It’s so theatrical. The lights and the incense. It’s beautiful.’

  Inside the church it was bright and warm and dry. There were not many people there. I felt protective, kneeling alongside this small dark girl in her wet raincoat. I said some prayers for her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We went to the picture shows, and soccer matches, and Rugby League. My workmates gave me a bad time. They were very ribald and sarcastic and wanted to know why I didn’t let them meet her. If we decided to get married, I told them, they would meet her. They said I was afraid they would take her away from me. I said I was afraid she would dislike me when she met the lousy company I kept. They threw mortar at me. I threw mortar at them. We wasted an hour cleaning down splashed brickwork. They became hilarious when I bought a block of land. They designed a house for me. It only had two rooms. One was a bedroom and the other was a storeroom full of tinned foods. There were barrels of beer above the bedroom ceiling, with rubber tubes from them to the bed. There was a hole in the floor leading to a chute which passed through the lower wall. This was labelled, ‘Kids. Keep well oiled.’ At the chute’s outlet, a number of nurses were standing waiting with baskets. These were labelled, ‘Dago baskets’. They asked me to submit the plan to Kay for her approval. I pretended to have done so, and told them she was disappointed with it. This was because there was no rhubarb, and she was very fond of rhubarb. They modified the plan by putting a rhubarb garden on the roof.

  But they all came with me to inspect my land, and approved of it. There was bushland at the back of the block, and Dennis said there would be possums. This proved to be true. They offered to help me clear the block at week-ends. I said we could not do this until I knew definitely when I was getting married, because I would be busy courting at week-ends. They thought this was very funny.

  ‘Jokin’ aside,’ Joe said. ‘Reckon you’ll marry this dame?’

  ‘I think so,’ I said. ‘If she will have me.’

  ‘When will yer know?’

  ‘Soon. I cannot hurry matters. She is very shy.’

  ‘Picked her up in a café, didn’ yer?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can’t be very shy.’

  ‘She is shy of getting married. She was going to be married last year, but the man went away.’

  ‘Strewth!’ said Dennis. ‘Wot’s wrong with ’er?’

  ‘There is nothing wrong with her. She is very attractive.’

  They discussed what could be wrong with her, in a very rude manner. They decided that she squinted, was knock-kneed and had B.O. I denied this, vigorously. ‘Only kiddin’ yer matey,’ Joe said. ‘Edie wants ter meet ’er.’

  ‘Don’t everybody?’ said Dennis.

  Pat said he didn’t. He was finished with women. This statement provoked much unbelieving laughter.

  He said, ‘I mean ut this time. I’ve had ’em.’

  ‘They tell me knittin’s a good substitute,’ Joe said.

  ‘Got a good’n lined up fer yer fer Saturdy night,’ Dennis said.

  ‘Couldn’t care less, mate. I’ve had ’em. Had ’em all.’

  ‘Wot’s wrong with ’im?’ Joe wanted to know.

  ‘He got wiped last night. Wiped like a dirty rag.’

  ‘Yeah. Yer haven’t shaved she said. Yer fingernails are dirty, she said. Yer smell of beer, she said. I’ve had ’em.’

  ‘These things are important,’ I said. ‘You should always shave and clean your fingernails before meeting a lady.’

  ‘Listen ter the bloody expert, will yer? An’ wot about the beer? Mean ter say a man’s gotta go orf the grog before ’e meets ’em? Anyway, she wasn’t a lady.’

  ‘I’ll give yer that,’ Dennis said. ‘She only thought she was. This other one’s different.’

  ‘’Ave I gotta shave an’ clean me fingernails?’

  ‘Bloody oath yer have.’

  ‘Nothin’ doin’.’

  ‘I’m tellin’ yer she’s worth ut.’

  ‘Wot about beer?’

  ‘Yer c’n ’ave a coupla middies.’

  ‘A coupla middies? Yer know wot yer c’n do.’

  ‘Yeah. An’ I know wot you c’n do too. ’Ave a shave an’ clean yer fingernails.’

  ‘Where are we meetin’ ’em?’

  ‘Town Hall corner.’

  ‘I’ll turn up as full as an egg.’

  ‘Good-o. Then I’ll latch onto ’er meself.’

  ‘I’ll ’ave a look at ’er from the other side the road first.’

  ‘Fair enough. Why don’t you an’ your sheila join us, Nino?’

  ‘Have you not a girl Dennis?’

  ‘Yes, I have not. But I’ll have one by Saturdy. Got one lined up. Ringin’ ’er ter-morrer.’

  ‘Anyone we know?’ Joe said.

  ‘Wouldn’ touch any you know with a forty foot pole.’

  ‘Wot say me an’ Edie join yez, an’ we’ll make ut a night?’

  ‘Married men are barred.’

  ‘No ’arm in tryin’,’ said Joe. ‘Just wanted to ’ave a dekko at Nino’s find.’

  ‘All in good time, Joe,’ I told him. ‘No Dennis, I do not think we will join you on Saturday night.’

  ‘Why? Reckon we’ve got leprosy?’

  ‘You know it’s not that. I wish to have a private conversation with Kay. I am to meet her parents on Sunday.’

  ‘She’s takin’ yer ter meet the old folks? Yer gone a million, mate.’

  ‘Before we make a decision, it is necessary for me to meet her family.’

  ‘Nuttin’ ut all out, ain’t yer? Yer a cold blooded bastard.’

  ‘I have already been told that, but I do not agree. I am just being sensible.’

  ‘No. Cold blooded. Yer workin’ ut all out as though yer was buyin’ a truck. Lookin’ ’em over in the second-hand joint; tak
in’ ’em out for a trial run; checkin’ on previous owners. Yer don’t treat sheilas that way.’

  ‘Has she got any cracks in the chassis?’ Pat asked.

  ‘Bet she needs new rings, anyway.’

  ‘Usin’ much oil?’

  ‘’Ow many miles ter the gallon does she do?’

  ‘Seems to be a slow starter in cold weather.’

  ‘Yeah, an’ probably boils in the summer.’

  ‘Wot about ’er front suspension?’

  ‘An’ ’er bumper bars?’

  ‘Wot you need’s a good mechanic ter look ’er over, Nino. Me and Dennis fer instance. We’ve ’ad lots of experience. We’ll take ’er out on the road for yer, an’ give y’an expert opinion.’

  ‘Yeah, we’ll vet ’er fer yer. Week-end after next eh?’

  ‘I’ll do the vettin’,’ said Joe. ‘Owned one fer years. Know just wot makes ’em tick.’

  ‘You’ve only ’ad experience with one model. That’s no good.’

  ‘All got the same sort o’ engines, ain’t they?’

  ‘Different body work, but.’

  ‘If we decide to get married you will meet her,’ I told them.

  ‘Wot if yer decide not ter get married?’

  ‘Then I will have to look for somebody else. But I think we will marry.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Joe thoughtfully. ‘I think yer will. Yer showin’ all the signs.’

  ‘Fair dinkum, Nino,’ Dennis said, ‘is she orright?’

  ‘Yes, Dennis. She is all right.’

  ‘Ut’s ’ard ter tell,’ Pat said. ‘They c’n fool yer.’

  ‘Yer guarantee yer won’t get married before we meet ’er?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘That’s orright well. If she’s not orright we’ll know.’

  ‘Yeah. We’ll know.’

  ‘No chiseller’s goin’ ter get ’er ’ooks inter ’im. Right?’

  ‘Right.’

  These were my friends. They would kid me, and abuse me, but they would see that no chiseller got her hooks into me. I was touched by their concern, and their loyalty. But I knew that it would embarrass them if I said so. So I said, ‘You mob keep out of it. I can look after my bloody self.’

  ‘Famous last words,’ said Dennis.

  ‘Textures,’ said Joe.

  ‘Wot are you mumblin’ about?’

  ‘Textures. They’ll be the shot ’ere.’