I hate waitin’.
So, there was this kid sitting in the park opposite. He’s in Pen’s class. A few tools short.
He’s there all the time …
We call him Legless.
He was drinking from one of those big Coke bottles.
Anyway, he moaned. He fell off the seat, Miss.
Sue: Was he all right?
Rob: Yeah! He was pissed.
Sue: How do you know?
Rob: Me name’s not Billy Hunt.
Billy Hunt …
As in …
Silly …
Sue: Stop!
I get it.
Rob: Anyway … like, we all know what’s in the bottle …
Rum … scotch … vodka for sure.
He’s a loser. He’s always sitting in the same spot.
Soon as school finishes he goes straight there on his skateboard.
Why doesn’t he go home?
Sue: Why didn’t you ask him?
Rob: As if.
I went over and sussed him out. He hit his head and he had spit hanging from his lip. He was out of it. The dirty bastard even pissed himself. I could smell and see it.
Like, who pisses themselves in public?
Dirty bastard.
Anyway, I thought of taking a picture.
Sue: Why?
Rob: Post it online. He’s a loser, Miss.
I left after that, Pen had to walk home by himself.
Sue: What’s your definition of loser?
Rob: What?
Sue: You heard.
Rob: A loser is someone who does nothin’.
Drinks …
Does drugs …
Doesn’t care about anyone.
What, Miss?
Work
Tuesday, 2.15pm
Taralune High School, Library Room L4
Sue: What’s happening?
Rob: Next week I’m working, no school.
Sue: Well, you’d be happy with that.
Rob: Rather be at school.
Sue: That’s a turnaround.
Rob: I looked up the word nigger.
I get what you’re saying. But …
Nig’s twelve. He knows his name. I can’t change it now.
Sue: Yeah, I thought about that.
Rob: And guess what?
Trev’s Aboriginal aunty hates the word blackfella. She says it’s not a nice name.
So, I was thinking … when you say the word blackfella, it’s the same as blacks in America using the name nigger.
Sue: I see your point.
Rob: You don’t have a problem with the word blackfella?
Sue: Nope … but I do have a problem with the word blackie.
Rob: Why? They’re almost the same.
Sue: I’ve heard the word blackie used disrespectfully.
Rob: They were being derogatory?
Do you know people who don’t like the word blackfella?
Sue: Yep … and he’s white.
I knew a guy nicknamed Nigger. He was always kind and generous, a real good bloke.
Rob: So, he’s a blackfella?
Sue: Nah, white.
Rob: This is real confusing, Miss.
Sue: I agree.
For me, saying blackfella and whitefella is a simple way of stating the obvious. You’re fair in skin colour and I’m darker.
Rob: So, it’s about how it’s said …
Or how someone used it in the past.
Sue: Yep. Any word can be delivered with either vinegar or sugar.
Rob: But that’s what I was saying, Miss. The word nigga is said with sugar.
Sue: Doesn’t matter if you say
N
I
G
G
A
or
N
I
G
G
E
R
or
N
I
G
G
A
H!
The word has a history and its history isn’t sweet.
Rob: You know … I thought Dave liked Nig.
Sue: I’m sure he does. He probably just picked the name without thinking any different.
Rob: Nah.
It’s because of Shaz.
Sue: What do you mean?
Rob: He calls her a Mussi.
A sand nigger.
Sue: She’s Muslim?
Rob: Poppie’s family were Afghani, they looked after the camels out west.
But, nah! She’s not Muslim.
Benny Boy
Name: Benny Boy Conway
Age: 15
Year: 5
Pets: Ramsi (dog)
Narri (bird)
Nan: Nan (Evelyn Agnes Draper)
Sister: Mel (Mellisa Agnes Draper)
Benny Boy
Wednesday, 10am
St Nicholas Lutheran College, Taralune, Room 5A
Sue: What’s your name?
Benny: Benny Boy.
Mum called me Benny.
Sue: Nice to meet you, Benny Boy, my name’s Sue.
Benny: Yep.
Sue: So, what’s your story, Benny Boy?
Benny: Dunno … got no story.
Sue: Everyone’s got a story.
I was told you love fishing?
Benny: Love fish, love flatheads they’re good fightin’ fish and good to look at. Love snapper they’re good to look at. But I don’t catch ’em, only if I’m real hungry. I just like lookin’ at them swimmin’ and …
I love cookin’ and eatin’ with my nan.
Sue: Is that who you live with?
Benny: I live with Nan.
And Ramsi and … Narri Bird.
Sue: Who’s Ramsi?
Benny: Our dog. He’s got three legs and one and a half ears.
And a crooked bark.
Sue: A crooked bark. What do you mean?
Benny: You know … like, he doesn’t know if he’s a pup or a grown-up dog. Nan says it’s not strong or straight-up like a normal bark …
It’s crooked.
Sue: How about Narri Bird?
Benny: Narri Bird faints all the time.
He’ll be swingin’ and talkin’ up real neat one minute. Next, his toes are in the air.
Five minutes later … he’s back on the swing again.
He’s narri.
Sue: He’s got a few problems then. Poor old Narri Bird.
Tell me about Nan.
Benny: She’s pissed off. I ripped me new shirt for school, now she’s got the you-know-whats.
Sue: What’s she like? Is she funny?
Benny: She’s fat.
Sue: You mean chubby?
Benny: Nah, she’s fat.
Sue: Okay.
Benny: She’s white.
She tells deadly jokes. She learns me to read books and to be a good cook.
She likes to sing with the radio. And … she loves good manners, and Kylie Kwong’s cookin’ and hot chips with brown vinegar.
She don’t like wearin’ shoes … only when we go shopping.
She fills me Coke bottle up with cordigal or juice. I’m not allowed to have Coke. It rots ya teeth and ya insides.
I like me insides.
And she has a beer every afternoon at four-thirty.
Her nose holes always go wide when there’s a storm or new rain comin’. It’s the brontide.
Sue: What is?
Benny: That thunder you hear miles away, that’s the brontide.
Sue: I didn’t know that.
Benny: And she likes smellin’ the rain, says it clears the shite away.
Sue: Shite … ?
Benny: Yep. That’s how me nan says it.
Sue: She sounds real cool, your nan.
Benny: Yep.
Sue: What do you like about living here, Benny?
Benny: Dunno.
I’m good at being friends, I like fish and drawin’ and feedin’ the
ducks. Better at drawin’ than talkin’.
Sue: Maybe you can draw your story? What do you like drawing?
Benny: Fishes.
Sue: So, tell me … who are your friends?
Benny: Well, there’s …
Pen with an N
Nan with an N
Narri Bird with a B
and …
R
A
M
S
I
Ramsi.
Foster Care
Wednesday, 12.15pm
St Nicholas Lutheran College, Taralune, Room 5A
Sue: G’day, mate!
Benny: I’m goin’ to see my sister this afternoon.
Sue: Cool! Is she close?
Benny: She’s out Little Pomona Road.
Every Wednesday, Nan and … I, we, go to see her.
Sue: What’s your sister’s name?
Benny: Mel.
She’s beautiful.
And kind and smart.
Mr Malcolm and Clarice is next door. They’re nice too.
I’m a foster bub.
Sue: I know a few foster bubs.
Benny: What are they like?
Sue: They’re awesome just like you.
Benny: Are they happy?
Sue: Some of them.
Are you happy?
Benny: I love Nan.
She looks after me. Nan takes me out to Old Man tree in the summer when there’s lots of storms around. Sometimes he’s lookin’ after all the fireflies.
Nan and … me have watched him babysit them all three times.
Sue: That’s amazing.
Benny: There’s thousands all around the tree.
I’m happy.
Is that all right?
Sue: What do you mean?
Benny: Nan’s white?
Sue: Yep?
Benny: People said it’s wrong.
Sue: Why?
Benny: They said I should live with a black foster nan.
Because I’m black. I’m Aboriginal.
Sue: Do you know anything about your biological family? Your blackfella family?
How about Mum or Dad?
Fear can force people to say many things.
Just remember …
Love is … more brilliant …
And more powerful than the colour of our skin.
If your nan looks after you and loves you and you’re happy to be with her … that’s all that matters.
Okay?
Benny: Yep.
Graffiti
Wednesday, 2.30pm
St Nicholas Lutheran College, Taralune, Room 5A
Sue: Is this for me?
Benny: Look at it later. Okay?
Sue: No worries.
Your head sore?
Benny: Yep.
Sue: Headache?
Benny: I’m all right.
Did you see the giraffe?
Sue: He’s solid, eh?
Benny: Probably needs a better neck.
Sue: Yep, he’s definitely got a few issues.
You know Pen, don’t you?
Benny: Pen’s my mate. He remembers my name.
His brothers call me Legless. Dumb name because I’ve got two legs.
Sue: Maybe they can’t count.
Benny: Yeah!
The lady that paints on his work … she’s funny. I like her a lot.
Pen’s brothers go tarpin’.
Sue: Do you like tarpin’?
Benny: I love fishes.
Sue: Thank God for that.
Truth Be Told
Thursday, 9am
St Nicholas Lutheran College, Taralune, Room 3B
Sue: Is this your note for the doctor’s appointment?
Benny: Doctor Ross says I’m goin’ good.
No more attacks. Not since last year.
Sue: Seizures?
Benny: Yep.
Sue: You suffer from epilepsy?
Benny: That’s how I got this scar. I fell off the bench in the park.
Pen found me and got the ambulance.
He visited me at the hospital. Him and Nan bought me hot chips with vinegar. We had a big feed.
Sue: How often do you go to the park?
Benny: Every day after school.
The Big Wait
Thursday, 11am
St Nicholas Lutheran College, Taralune, Room 5A
Benny: It’s my birthday today too.
Sue: Well, happy birthday, mate. And many happy returns for today.
Benny: Nan always says that.
I’m sixteen. I had my cake at breakfast.
Sue: Nice one. Hope you made a wish.
Benny: Yep.
Got some for the park too.
Sue: For this afternoon?
The park’s beautiful, eh?
Benny: Good place to wait.
Sue: Who are you waiting for, Benny Boy?
Benny: Waitin’ for Nessie.
Sue: Who’s Nessie, your girlfriend?
Benny: Nessie’s me mum.
I’ve got no girlfriend.
She went with Bruce in a Toyota Landcruiser.
Sue: Who’s Bruce?
Benny: Her man. They’re goin’ round Australia then comin’ back to pick me up and find a new house next to the river.
Then I can watch the fish and I can feed the ducks and get me boat licence and I can look at the water whenever I want.
Do you know Nessie?
Sue: Sorry, mate, I don’t. But if I come across her I’ll definitely tell her Benny Boy is well-mannered and an amazing storyteller.
Benny: Tell Nessie I sit in the park, at the bench.
The one she said to be at.
Tell her I don’t play with Thomas …
Or Henry or Gordon …
Or … Percy no more.
And tell her I can touch the fan in Nan’s kitchen now and I know me fishes …
And …
I want her …
I would like her to come home now …
Please.
Jack
Name: Jack Trainer
Age: 17
Year: 12
Mum: Mum (Coral)
Gran: Gran (Lilly)
Jack
Thursday, 11.30am
Taralune High School, Library Room L3
Jack: My name’s Jack.
Sue: Pleased to meet you, Jack.
So, you know how this works?
Jack: Yeah, I know.
I don’t swear too much around adults so don’t worry I’m not like some others around here.
Mum would crack it if she found out I said bad things.
Sue: I appreciate that.
You right to start?
Jack: Just for the record, Sue, I don’t like stories and I don’t like writing stories. I’m not good at it.
Sue: See how you go. Telling and recording a story can be much easier than writing it down.
Jack: Still don’t want to do it.
Okay …
First up, I know I talk like Mum and Nan. But that’s the way I’ve been grown up. Everyone here says I’m old-fashioned but I don’t care.
I’m from the bush, Sue; sometimes we talk different to the ones in the big towns and the cities. Ya see, I’m not urban like most of ’em here.
Sue?
Sue: Mate, I’m listening and I understand.
Jack: Ya do? Cool!
So, this is how it is. I’m not black. But my family are.
Sue: Great start.
Jack: Mum, Dad and Gran are all Koorie. They’re part of a big Aboriginal family from down south. Gran is Dad’s mum, she’s been living with us since I was eight.
I’m seventeen now. Grandad’s still kickin’ but he doesn’t live with us anymore.
That’s a whole other yarn.
Sue: Sounds interesting.
Jack: Mum and Dad … I mean my blackfella Mum and Dad couldn’t have kids, that’s the first part. Second part is some white girl named Rayleen
got pregnant with a white bloke from South Australia.
We don’t know his name and neither does Rayleen.
Good on ya, Rayleen.
So, she had me on the fifth of February, that’s my birthday.
Rayleen worked out she couldn’t party much with me hanging off her hip or tit or wherever I was supposed to be hanging from, so she gave me away to her next-door neighbours.
Can you just give ya kid away?
You right, Sue?
Sue: Sorry, mate.
All good.
Jack: Well, the neighbours didn’t have any kids, and, I’m not lying, they were on IVF. They were trying for a test-tube baby.
I know, who would have thought. Mum said I had beautiful milky skin, big green eyes and mousy brown hair.
Sue: And now you’re blond.
Jack: Yeah, funny that, eh?
So … my new family couldn’t wait to look after me proper.
Apparently Rayleen and I partied hard for the first few months.
Sue: Laugh out loud.
And the adoption’s all legal?
Jack: Yep! Papers were signed and everything was made right.
All them do-gooders who think blackfullas aren’t good enough to look after their own kids, well, there’s their curve ball.
My blackfulla family had to look after us white kids too.
Eh, Sue?
Sue: Too right.
Jack: And they’re the kindest … amazing … lovingest people I know.
Is lovingest a word?
Sue: It is now.
Jack: You’re funny.
Sue: Do you know what happened to Rayleen?
Jack: Yeah!
Dear White Rayleen walked away and did the same thing, not once … not twice … but, wait for it …
Three more times!
Yep, I’ve got two half-brothers and a sister, and Rayleen didn’t want any of us. Thankfully, fathers, other family members and neighbours came to the rescue.
No pity, we’re all good, we’re all better off. Rayleen had the brainpower to hand us on. I reckon she was good like that, eh!
Respect
Thursday, 1pm
Taralune High School, Library Room L1
Jack: I’ve been thinking about your T-shirt.
‘All Lives Matter’.
Didn’t think you’d wear that around.
Sue: Why?
Jack: Well, you’re a blackfulla.
Sue: Yeah! And?
Jack: What about black lives?
They matter too?
Sue: Absolutely …
Brontide Page 3
