by Paula Hayes
Chapter Fourteen
The Gospel according to Leo
In the name of the spud …
Interview RECONVENED AT 1507HRS (Apologies from Natalie Grey, Beth is feeling sick.)
L: The next time the boys and I were out in the street playing, I kept an eye out for Daisy. Sure enough she was sitting in the front room. She saw me and came outside. Agnes followed her.
They had little bundles with them. They were potatoes wrapped in handkerchiefs. I asked them what they were doing. Agnes replied rudely, ‘Wasn’t it obvious, they were playing with their baby dollies.’ They had even named their potatoes. Agnes’ spud was called Alice and Daisy named hers Lucy. Agnes kept lovingly swaddling her potato. She would get the hanky to fit snuggly and then she would start all over again. Daisy wrapped hers up briskly and placed it carefully in her pocket, so its tatty head was sticking out, “So Lucy can breathe,” said Daisy.
I said, “Didn’t she know it was only a potato and not a dolly. Was she mad?”
Daisy said, “Didn’t I know the stick was only a stick and not a real cricket bat and how was that any different to a potato baby?”
Veronica called them back inside. They both went into the house in a hump. Veronica was shouting that Gladys needed her attention and could the girls please light the stove and peel the potatoes for dinner.
I laughed my head off when I heard that. Dan and Les asked me what was so funny and I told them. They laughed too but when I looked up, I saw Daisy staring through the window. She looked so hurt. I felt really lousy.
A few days after that I could hear noises coming from the McNamara’s house. Dan, Agnes and Daisy were sitting out the front wrapped in blankets looking forlorn. Mr. McNamara’s cab pulled up and out got the Doctor. I stood in the middle of the street, glued to the spot. Moments passed and loud crying began. I knew Gladys had died. Les, Dan and the girls hurried in. I tried to catch Daisy’s eye and waved. She nodded and went in.
All that week I felt terrible, just terrible. Dan and Les didn’t play cricket in the street for a long time after that.
The weather changed, Ma’s chest was bad and she needed help. I tried to think of a way to make Daisy feel better. It was about this time I started helping Les with the horses. The Old Man was a cab driver and owned a small team. He had a small house on a quarter acre. He had also made his money in prospecting for gold and working in the mines. Ma said my Dad saw the future in automobiles but Old Man McNamara believed people would always use the horse and carriage. He loved his horses and kept them out the back in a glorified tin shed he had made himself. It was a well fitted out enormous stable. Mary Ellen called the stable, the ‘bloody Taj Mahal’ for horses. I heard her shout once or twice that he loved his horses more than he loved her. I never caught his reply … I always feel proud of my Dad when I look out the window and see the automobiles flying past.
Laurence and Joe had served their time mucking out the stable and looking after the horses. They hated it and so did Dan. All he thought about was playing cricket for Australia. Nothing would come between him and his dream.
But Les loved the horses and named them all himself. He had a strange habit of naming each horse with the same kind of sound. There was Boots, Bell, Bach and others too. Bushells was his favourite. I can’t remember them all. He shovelled their doings, groomed them, fed them, exercised them and then shovelled their doings again. The Old Man did most of his trade around Town but he would rub his hands together when a new suburb opened up. Sometimes he would travel as far as Bayswater, which is out in the sticks. The business grew big and soon the Old Man needed a second team of horses. Les was invited by his father to be a driver. Les was as happy as Larry. Well pleased. But it meant he had little time for caring for the horses. He needed help. Les knew Ma and me had the wolf at the door so he asked me to be their stable boy and paid me a small wage.
I cared for the horses like they were Les’ friends. Well … they sort of were. He seemed to understand them. I never quite felt what Les felt for the horses but I did my best and he was always pleased with my work. The Old Man left it to Les to show me what to do and how to do it. He was a man of very few words and was more at home reading the paper around the back of the sheds than talking. Anyways, Mary Ellen talked enough for both of them.
A: What about Daisy?
L: Oh yeah, right. Weeks passed and I would be lucky if I caught a glimpse of her. I really wanted to make it up to her. I had an idea. I stole a couple of spuds from the corner shop and with a knife I fashioned faces on the potatoes. I dug out big eyes and wide smiling mouths. Then I wrapped them up in some pretty scraps from Mum’s sewing basket. I walked home from work with Les. He was still cut up about Gladys. Mary Ellen was very sad and didn’t leave her bed much. I think her heart had broken. I asked Les if he would call Daisy and Aggie to the front door. I had a present for them. I showed him the tatty dollies. He said I was a brave fellow and to get ready to cover my shins and run for it. He went and fetched them for me.
I told the girls I was sorry about their sister and I had a present for them. Their faces lit up and I pulled out my dollies and gave them one each. Aggie started screaming and said it was the ugliest thing she ever had the misfortune to cast eyes upon. She dropped it on the ground and ran back into the house.
Daisy picked it up and laughed out loud. She said it was the funniest thing she had ever seen. She said she would call them Alice and Lucy the Second. Then she thanked me and went back inside. I saw her a few days later, she said Alice and Lucy were very good dolls and Agnes and her had played for ages with them until Alice’s eyes went black and Lucy grew a stalk out of the side of her head. Then Veronica took the dollies away and returned them peeled, quartered and baked and served with butter. They were delicious, she laughed gaily.
They were such pretty girls I really felt that they deserved a beautiful doll. I walked all the way into town one day and into Boans. I looked at all the dolls. They might as well have been a million pounds. I couldn’t afford one. I bought some boiled sweets for us to share and started the trek home.
As I was leaving Wellington Street, I fell in step behind a Nanny and her young charge. The girl was screaming her lungs out over something, I don’t know what. I reckon she might have needed the strap. That was what Mary Ellen gave her young uns if they pulled a stunt like that.
The girl was blathering and crying and pouting and sulking. The poor Nanny held her tightly by the hand. In the girl’s other hand she was clutching a small and perfectly formed baby dolly. It had a pretty china face and a soft stuffed body.
The little girl started to whack the Nanny in the stomach with the baby’s hard head. The Nanny scowled and fended her off then the little princess flung her arm back to get a really good swing up and let go of dolly. And then blow me down … it fell into my hands.
I was stunned.
Now I know Anna, it’s a sin to steal but I reckon that was divine intervention so I stuffed the doll up my jumper and ran for it. I ran around the corner and hid. I peeked back and the little tot was kicking and biting and scratching at this stage and the Nanny was hanging on to her for dear life while trying to hail a cab. In all of the commotion, no one had realised the doll was missing. I sprinted the whole one and a half miles home.
I got home and shut the door quietly. Mum had been sewing but was now sleeping. I took the doll out—she had a face like a cherub … actually she looked a bit like your Jacqui girl—big green eyes and thick curly lashes. Her dress was a bit dirty but she was in pretty good nick. I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain having a doll in my hot hands. I ran across the road and knocked on the door and then hid. I was gonna scarpa if Mary Ellen or the Old Man opened up. It was Aggie. I couldn’t trust she would share the doll with Daisy. Aggie stepped back into the house frightened like she had seen a ghost. I walked around the back and Daisy was bringing in the
washing. She was caught up in some sheets so I put the doll on top of the clean washing and bolted. Suddenly Daisy started screaming like a bull ant had bitten her. She ran inside clutching the doll and Aggie and Veronica ran out to see what the fuss was about. They met on the back porch. Daisy was hugging and kissing the cherub doll with all her heart. Aggie looked—what is that word Dylan keeps saying, Aggie looked freaked out. Her eyes were like saucers. Daisy offered her a cuddle of the baby but Aggie shook her head—no, no she didn’t want to touch it, it could’ve been the work of the Devil. Aggie was sure the Devil tempted little girls with such fine toys. It was too lovely to be made on Earth.
I guess by that stage Aggie had worked out she had the ‘gift’. There was so much death in the family, I’m sure she must have been receiving ghostly visitors by then. She wasn’t sure if the doll was real or not … or what it meant.
I paid no regard to Aggie. I knew nothing of her suffering or trials at this stage. I had made Daisy shout and whoop for joy. It was more than I could have ever hoped for. My heart was hers. Forever.
A: So you were sweet on Les’ sister! I was beginning to wonder if you were sweet on Les. It sounded like the bromance of the century.
L: What is a bromance? I don’t like the sound of that.
A: Don’t worry.
L: That night, I hear rocks bouncing off my bedroom window. I’m not scared, I know who it is. It’s Daisy. She was out in the front garden hiding amongst the weeds. She was clutching dolly fiercely, I could tell she was scared because she knew she would get the strap if she got caught. I jammed open the window and said, ‘What in hells bells do you think you are doing … I will get my bum whooped too if you don’t high tail home right now.’
She said, ‘I know it was you.’
I played dumb, ‘Me what?’
She says, ‘You gave me dolly. I love her. I have named her Alice Lucy the First and only.”
I replied, ‘That’s a nice name, now go home.’
Suddenly there was a clanking across the road. I thought I would die of fright, but it was just Les putting out the milk bottles. He looked up and he must have caught sight of Daisy’s head in the moonlight amongst the dandelions. He closed the front door quietly and marched across the road. He pulled her up by the ear and whispered angrily that never mind about the Old Man and the strap, he would smack her bum the next time he saw her out after dark in a boy’s yard and that was for certain. And it was Dan’s turn to take out the bottles that night but they had swapped. What if Dan had caught her out here? He would have tattled to Mum in a heartbeat.
Daisy winced and Les let go of her. She whispered back boldly that she hadn’t said thank you to Leo yet and she wasn’t going until she said what she came to say.
‘Hurry up,’ said Les, ‘You know Mum walks the house half the night with heartburn and leg cramps. She will be on to you.’
‘Did you steal Alice doll?’ she asked.
‘No, I found her,’ I told her.
‘Found her, where?’
‘In Wellington Street.’
‘Are you lying to me?’
‘No,’ I said as bold as brass.
Then she said, ‘Well I decided that I don’t care if you stole her or not, Alice Lucy was meant for me, don’t you think?’
I wanted to reply with all my heart she belongs to you. She fell like an angel from the sky just for you but that sounded soppy in front of Les. And Daisy always had this slightly fierce look on her face so I just shrugged and said, ‘You better get going, stupid girl.’
A: Much less nauseating, I could taste the bile before.
L: Daisy smiled and then poked out her tongue.
Les gave her a gentle kick up the bum as she crossed the street in front of him and then he looked over his shoulder to me and frowned and shook his head. They disappeared inside the house. She didn’t knock on the window again, not for a long time.
From then on, Daisy, Agnes and I would play together for a few minutes every couple of days. They were busy helping their mother and doing schoolwork and I was helping my Ma and working. They were a couple of bright sparks. They could read and do sums and even quote Shakespeare.
D: The quality of mercy is not strained.
L: It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven.
D & L: Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed. (Dylan looks amazed.)
D: No offence but how do you know Shakespeare?
L: Daisy’s favourite quote. Sometimes she was a bit of a poser like you.
D: Charming!
L: Anyways, I wished Aggie would stay inside but she would always follow Daisy around even though she was the older sister. She always had such a sour look on her face. Nothing was ever fair according to Aggie, her turn wasn’t long enough and her piece wasn’t big enough. She always thought the pair of us were cheating or conspiring but we weren’t.
(Long silence)
I really wanted to but for some reason Daisy really loved Aggie and was always kind hearted to her and would never cheat her. Aggie was a right wowser. A real bloody killjoy.
A: Don’t hold back; tell us how you really feel!
(Another long silence)
L: Of course, I saw Daisy in Mass and even if Ma were too sick to go I would still go. The nuns thought I was a bloody saint and that they had done a champion job on me and my soul but I just wanted to catch a glimpse of Daisy’s dark hair and sparkling eyes. Les could have done a back flip down the Communion aisle now and I would not have noticed.
Once or twice Mary Ellen caught me looking at Daisy and frowned at me sternly. I said the Pater Noster (Our Father) extra loudly like Les did. Next time she looked at me, I tried to touch my tongue to my nose like Les did when he wanted to get out of trouble and make his mother laugh. She would always soften at that … sometimes she would do it back. Anyways, I couldn’t do it, just looked like I was sticking my tongue out like a greedy frog. Geez, she smacked the back of my head hard but discreet like as I dipped my hand into the holy water on the way out of Church. I remember the splash.
Anna touches her tongue to her nose. (Leo is impressed.)
(Dylan attempts it but fails.)
L: Three people in nearly one hundred years. How come I can’t do it? (Leo attempts and fails.)
A: It is not that big a deal. It’s genetically preprogrammed.
L: What?
J: Ladies, do you mind, you are interrupting the love story of the century.
L: Why does she call us ladies when there are a couple of blokes around? (Leo looks at Dylan trying to touch his tongue to his nose.) One, I guess. He looks like a cat bringing up a fur ball.
J: Leo, if you don’t mind, on with the story.
L: Anyways, if we had free time, perhaps on a Sunday after Mass, we would head off to the river. We wouldn’t walk together. I understood Mary Ellen perfectly. Daisy would take off her stockings and paddle while I swam in the river. Well, you can imagine how much this scandalized Aggie. Aggie said Daisy would end up in trouble. Nice girls didn’t take off their stockings or tuck their dress into their pants. We would have been about twelve or thirteen.
She was forever calling Daisy to come back and sit down with her but Daisy could cart wheel and flip as well as her brothers. She had so much life in her. You know, if there had have been a girl Ashes team then Daisy would have been the Captain. We would have running races all the time but we had to wait till Mary Ellen had a nap and watch out for the Old Man’s cab because they wouldn’t have liked their girls running the streets dodging pooh and people. This terrified Agnes but made it even more thrilling for Daisy. She was fast too. Agnes ran like a girl—bloody hopeless. She would lag behind shouting, ‘Slow down, I’ve got a stitch. I’ve got a ladder in my stocking.’ (Leo does a very good imitation of an annoying girl.) There was always something wrong. I wanted to grab Daisy’s hand and run away from her. But I didn’t dare.
(Leo is
standing looking at Daisy and Aggie’s photo)
A: Did Daisy take that photo of herself and Agnes; it looks so close and relaxed.
L: No, I took the photo.
A: You did?
L: Yes.
A: I thought you were too poor to have a Brownie camera. You know, teddy bears made of carrots and spinning tops made of turnips.
L: We were, it was Laurence’s camera. He had married the baker’s daughter and the baker had taken a shine to him and wanted him to take over the bakery one day. So Laurence was up to his armpits in dough learning how to make bread and that sort of stuff. He was doing very well for himself. He even had a bun in the oven.
(Leo thinks he is hilarious and grins.)
D: Was his wife the well-endowed girl? (Dylan cups his hands in a belittling manner to all women.)
J: No extra commentary Miss Annakins.
L: You mean the girl with the big chest. (Leo mimics back as he is a sexist pig too.)
J: Stop it Anna. We don’t want to go off on one of your tangents.
L: Yes, he was a very happy chappy (winks at Dylan even though Dylan can’t see him. Idiot.)
A: Please stop objectifying this poor woman’s body parts. You are disgusting me.
D: Yep she is disgusted. Look, her purple vein is pulsating in her temple. That is genuine Anna disgust.
L: And a look on her face like she has a pineapple up her bum.
A: You are very lucky I am such a stickler for accuracy. I am recording rude comments so future generations can see how pathetic and immature you two are!
L: Sorry Anna.
J: Back to the story Leo. For goodness sake, can you give a ghost a shot of Ritalin?
L: What was I saying?
J: Laurence and his ample chested wife allowed you to use their precious camera.
A: Why would he let you touch the camera? Would have cost a small fortune!
L: Kodak Folding Brownie Pocket No. 2 Model B.
A: You remembered that well.
L: Like it was yesterday.
(Dylan takes out his Smartphone and snaps a photo of Jacqui. He holds it up in the air for Leo to look at it. Then Dylan starts randomly snapping around the room.)
D: I’m paparazzi darlinks!
L: Magic, that is bloody ... what is the word again ... that is bloody awesome.”
J: Please Leo, why did you take the pictures?
L: It was Daisy’s sixteenth birthday.
D: Sweet sixteen and never been kissed.
L: Well umm hmm…
A: What are you trying to say?
D: Oh my gawd, do I detect a bhut blush, big boy?
A: Shut up Dylan.
J: Is that why the photograph is so intimate? She is looking at you, her secret boyfriend. Soooo romantic peeps.
A: How old were you?
L: I told you I was the same age as Daisy.
D: Did Daisy love you back?
L: Daisy loved me and I loved her. We were meant to be together.
J: Did Daisy love him back? What a silly question. She looks likes she adores you. She is practically smoldering into the lens.
A: Is that why Aggie looks so awkward?
L: She didn’t want to be the third wheel any more. Even though Daisy and I tried to keep it a secret, Aggie knew. Sometimes she would even cover for us. I never understood why. I was always half expecting her to rat on us.
D: She loved her sister deeply just as I love my brother for I am not a RAT.
A: Dylan has almost had an insight into human nature … well done Dylan!
D: Don’t sound so surprised, I love my brother. And he loves….
J: Shutup!
L: Aggie tried to squirm out of the photo as I pulled the lever. I took a second photo. The pair is smiling. Have you seen it? It’s much nicer.
A: No.
J: Please Leo, back to the story.
L: It was Daisy’s birthday and her graduation from St Joseph’s. Laurence and Mavis (the booby wife) came to Daisy’s graduation. She had passed all her exams with flying colours. Everyone was so proud she is able to go to the new University to study. Mary Ellen and the Old Man were proud as punch. Fairly bursting with joy. Not many girls go you know.
A: They do now. Girl Power. YES!
L: Except by then there is a war on.
NEW LIFE
Natalie knocks at the door and whispers loudly, “I am sorry to interrupt your life story Leo, I’m sure you are very entertaining but Beth’s waters have just popped. She is sitting in a sea of amniotic fluid in the kitchen and is slightly hysterical. In fact, I’m slightly hysterical too. I might need to whisk my level headed daughter Anna off you for an hour or seven.” Natalie’s face is blotchy with excitement. She is walking around in circles giving terse instructions to no one in particular.
Anna and Jacqui whizz passed her into the kitchen. “See you next time Leo,” calls Anna over her shoulder.
“Chou Leo,” squeaks Jacqui excitedly.
Dylan jumps up and slaps his hands on his cheeks and does a little jig.
“Quickly, boil the kettle, find the white towels. Man the horses, roll up your sleeves,” he pauses, “what else must be done.”
Dylan is now walking around in circles. He continues circling like a battery charged bunny in concentric rings.
“Oh my God, I wonder what the baby will be. If it’s a girl I think Ava is a gorgeous name. If it’s a boy I think Ron is very striking and masculine. My grandfather adopted it as his new name as his fellow teachers and students had difficulty in pronouncing Ranabir Roychowdhury when he moved to Australia. Really, University students can be culturally challenged.” Dylan is ranting.
“Not that they should name the baby after my grandfather, he is not their grandfather. But, well we have all been very good friends for years and I would be touched and honoured if they named the baby after Ron Ray.” He pauses, a flash of brilliance pops in his brain.
“Actually, why not use the name Dylan. I would make the perfect mentor.” His eyes glaze over as he sees himself in his mind’s eye patting little Dylan junior on the back as he graduates from Oxford. “Be not afraid of greatness, some are born great, some achieve greatness and others have greatness thrust upon them. We bear the heavy load of all three.” The funk from Leo permeates this daydream.
Dylan starts to wheeze, “I’m talking to a ghost, Beth has popped her baby valve in the kitchen and I’m about to hyperventilate. Good, good everything seems normal and accounted for.” He panics. He doesn’t want to be alone with Leo but what lies outside the green room smacks of hard-core reality, not his strong point. He hovers and paces, he decides he could shut his eyes and run out the front door. Then Beth starts wailing for Blake and Pethidine. Loudly. Dylan is stuck. Thoughts of his Grandfather’s stroke crowd his very busy brain. He is fixed to the spot.
“Blake, I am sorry I doubted you, please forgive me. Get Blake. I want Blake. I want drugs NOW.”
Jacqui runs to the door and lets Blake in. He lurches forward and stumbles through the hallway and into the kitchen, tripping on his Birkenstocks. Beth moves from the chair onto the floor, curls up and goes quiet. A pool of bright red blood seeps into her dress and spills out onto the floor.
“BLOOD, SHE IS BLEEDING. It’s all happening too fast,” cries Natalie, still walking in circles.
“It’s the placenta problem,” shouts Blake.
He crouches by her and lovingly strokes her dark hair. She grips his hands tightly. Beth’s eyes are squeezed shut.
Anna steps over Beth’s prostrate figure and reaches for the phone. “I’m calling an ambulance and Jacqui, you call the hospital.”
“Right away Annakins.” Jacqui feels the fog descending again. Her hands shake and she can’t seem to put the right numbers in. She can hear Anna in the background, giving orders to emergency services. She breathes deeply and tries to hear Nina’s mantra in her head. She breathes
again and finally makes contact with the maternity wing. She relays all the relevant information to the midwife. By the time her call is finished, the ambulance officers are banging on the door.
Leo and Dylan stand in the doorway. Leo wants Dylan to stop talking. He picks up a pen and in very large wobbly childlike writing forms the word ‘GERL.’
Dylan freezes and reaches for his puffer, he sucks down hard. “G E R L,” he repeats. “What is a G E R L? Is it a type of military weapon ... G—German, E—Eradication, R— Rifle and L for, L for what? League? Ummm? What are you trying to say?”
Leo is exhausted with the energy spent on recounting his early life and writing one word. He is fading fast.
‘GERL’ he writes again and shakes the paper to make the point. He doesn’t know how to make his point clear.
‘GERL’ he writes again. The pen shakes furiously. It is nearly time for the box and the cold earth.
He draws a stick picture of a girl with curly hair and ribbons. “The baby is a girl, you buffoon,” shouts Leo.
“Spiral perms Leo?” exclaims Dylan. “Frankly, I am disappointed you want to talk about vintage hair when the Bethy cow is birthing in the kitchen.”
“Shut up Dylan,” is all he can manage as a fond farewell.
Leo is truly spent with his exceptional effort and starts to dissolve away.
The ambulance siren screams loudly on the front lawn and then eventually fades away too. Natalie, Blake and Anna follow in the car. Jacqui waves to the departing vehicles from the side of the road. She feels cold and wraps her arms around herself. The weather is changing. She turns and spies Dylan chatting to himself in the front window. She walks back inside the house and inhales the smell of coffee and vegetable soup. The fireplace has burnt out into filthy flyaway ash.
“Come on, my big brave lad, let’s go to yours.” She holds out her hand and Dylan gratefully grabs it.
