Meet Me at the Intersection

by Ambelin Kwaymullina

  We did our usual warm-up. The string of girls flooding past in lines was comforting. How unlike the real game. No randomness. Just repeat, repeat. The ball moving in straight lines. At one point, the passing line broke down, the ball had an uneven delivery, and it bobbled off the ground; the receiver was unable to trap it, and it went over her foot. She raced out to get it, and, with my hands on my hips, I turned and had a look at the opposition. I didn’t normally like to do this. It just sets me off. I thought: Who were the defenders? Any weak links? Does the goalkeeper have anything? Would she dive for my trademark right-hand corner placement?

  My teammates were suddenly squealing; they went soft on me, screaming at the discovery of a toad standing guard on the pitch where the ball had rolled. My coach was on it, running over, and before I could say anything, he kicked the toad with his steel-capped boot. ‘Keep going, girls,’ he growled.

  I was playing on the left wing. My second position. Covering for missing girls. I didn’t mind that much. I knew I’d still get my chances. Although I did feel a little self-conscious. I had been chosen to represent State. I was my team’s biggest weapon. But I wasn’t put where I was most effective. I looked at the two girls playing there, Casey was one of them. She was a defender by birth and always would be. I was angry at the decision. There were no scouts, I didn’t have to prove anything, but, at the same time, I did.

  During the game, I remembered why I didn’t like playing wing. It was a game played in a tunnel. A long, narrow stretch of the park. In defence, I had to tuck in, cover the gap in the middle, and also work with my fullback to cover the space in behind. The transition between defence and attack, and attack and defence, was frustrating. When we got the ball, I’d sprint my guts out, create space for myself wide, but I wouldn’t get the ball. A couple of times when I did get it, bunched back in my half, I decided to take on the player, try and use my speed to get around her. But it didn’t work. I was too predictable, and got caught; she always had backup.

  In defending, I was unenthusiastic. I could feel my goal-scoring energy being sucked up every time I turned on my heel and ran backwards to cover.

  We scored early. Donna finished well. I felt relief, and that we would get some more. We had a corner soon after.

  During the corner, I stood at the front post, ready to flick anything on. Donna took the corner. The ball went past me and hit an opposing player, a mistimed clearance, and I moved my body so that the ball came to me. I quickly controlled it, got my boot under it, and hit it on the half-volley. Before I knew the outcome of the strike, I thought of my father. Then real time happened and the strike hit the keeper and she saved it. I sprinted backwards, in defence, to swallow it. I suspected then that it would be my best chance of the game.

  It was 1—1 at half-time. We weren’t happy. Our keeper was trying to pick us up. Casey and I weren’t even making jokes like we normally did.

  I was better than the girl I was playing. Loads better. But she had her dad egging her on from the sideline. ‘Round her!’

  I thought my dad would do that if he was there. Except his favourite cheer was ‘C’mon!’ At one point of the match, she did round me. Conned me, took off, went running into miles of space. I felt foolish and couldn’t catch up. I chased her down to the corner flag, but I was nowhere close to making any sort of contact. It didn’t cause a goal or anything, but I was annoyed.

  I got a message from the coach to swap positions with Casey and jump up front. Here we go. I started to get some good touches. Control the match. Put my girls in for some good chances. But on the other end, we copped it. Mistake after mistake, and we were down 3—1. Terrible. I still tried. Whenever Bronte had it in her paws, I took off to make myself an option, got all the high balls.

  Lack of sleep was catching up on me. And I was cramping. My calves were stiff.

  Towards the end of the game, when both coaches were subbing, and the players were no longer running to get the ball when it went past the sideline, I got the ball in a good position. Casey was behind me, and I gave it to her quickly , hoping to get it back. Yes! She put it through the hole. I was right in on goals. At the keeper again! But the ball bounced off, to Donna, who hit it well. It pushed off the post but I was running so hard at it I didn’t see it and there were hands on my shirt and I was on the ground and the ball was in the net. Where did it come off? My knee? Chest? My girls were around me.

  I had got my goal, sort of, but it didn’t feel any kind of sweet. Before anything else could happen, the ref blew the whistle for the end of the game.

  ‘Where’s your dad?’ Casey said as we walked barefoot across the field. I realised how drenched in sweat my jersey was.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied.

  ‘We’ll take you home,’ Casey’s mum said.

  I clicked the door open cautiously.

  ‘Dad?’

  ‘Bella?’

  I felt the emotion that had been building up all day come out as I ran towards Dad, standing against the sink, hair messy and tired-looking, like even too tired for a hug. But I touched his arm, repeating, ‘Where were you?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I had to go buy a printer, so I went to Kmart this morning and I just couldn’t work out which one to get.’

  It sounded like an incomplete excuse as to where he had been all day, but I didn’t press him any further.

  We sat down at the kitchen table and I slowly rolled my socks off.

  ‘I got so tired, I can’t explain it,’ Dad said. ‘I really miss her, you know, and I end up getting myself in knots because she was your mum. You must miss her so much.’

  ‘You’re allowed to miss her, too, Dad.’

  He tried to smile. ‘How was the game? Did you score?’

  ‘Yeah.’ I didn’t lift my head.

  ‘I wish I could have seen it.’

  ‘I had to play wing. It was a tough game, Dad. We lost. But we’ll get there next time. I caught a train from the city, I passed through and posted—’

  ‘You got the application in,’ Dad interrupted, sighing with relief.

  ‘Yeah. We’ll be going to Canberra, Dad.’ I said it without knowing but feeling, feeling a determination in my feet. My hands brushed over the unpaid bills and the coffee rings stained into the table. ‘I printed it at the State Library and I met a nice boy called Akachi who follows Real Madrid.’

  Dad looked at me suspiciously.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘I thought you liked girls.’

  I shrugged. ‘It was 3—2. Donna scored the other one.’

  ‘Tell me about your goal.’

  ‘Yeah, I just got my body in the way.’

  ‘Came off your eyebrow?’

  ‘My knee!’

  ‘Good one.’

  ‘Totally intentional,’ I said, and my mind started to wander to the next game I’d play, how Dad would be there to see my future goals.

  GRAHAM AKHURST

  Graham Akhurst is an Aboriginal writer and poet who comes from the Kokomini of Northern Queensland. He lives and works on Yuggerra Country. This poem is informed by the history of colonisation and his own journey towards a culturally strong identity. Graham writes, ‘I hope this poem will get people thinking about the powerful intergenerational effects of colonisation, while also seeing the great resilience of Indigenous peoples.’

  Dream

  Dormant

  I see

  White walls and circles

  brown skin

  move time

  contested

  and motion

  a scratch

  rearing

  blood

  closer

  to truth

  Desert

  I witness

  Red dust blinds

  the earth’s

  concealing

  shards

  form

  that slice

  the earth drinks

  bloodied footprints

  announcing

  the forgotten
/>
  Haunted

  I watch

  The writhing serpent

  my place

  conjures sparks

  unfolding

  in history

  Totems struggle

  fade

  guiding

  balance

  Ritual

  as sails flex

  moves time

  I remember everywhen

  closer

  My blood

  tolerance

  In haunted space

  KYLE LYNCH

  Kyle Lynch lives at the Kurrawang Aboriginal Christian Community in Western Australia. He comes from the Wongi people. This story provides a snapshot of a week in Kyle’s life as he looks for a job.

  Dear Mate

  Day 1, 10.30 am-ish

  Dear Mate,

  Today I am gunna try and get myself a job. Sick of lazying around all day.

  Walked to my aunty at the KACC office.

  Me: Hey, Aunty.

  Aunty: Yeah.

  Me: I want to get a job.

  Aunty: True.

  Me: Yeah.

  Aunty: That’s good.

  Me: Well, whattttty.

  Aunty: Okay!

  Me: You gonna help me or what?

  Aunty: Okay.

  Me: Well, what I’m gonna do?

  Aunty: Well, you need a résumé for starters!

  Me: What’s that?

  Aunty: Mmmm. I’ll talk to you tonight.

  Me: What. I wanna go now!

  Aunty: Where you wanna go?

  Me: Town!

  Aunty: Just wait for tonight. Me and you talk about it tonight.

  Me: Okay!

  Now what?

  1.26 pm

  Day 2, 9.22 am

  Dear Mate,

  Today I might have a job. Better not forget to ring you know who! Better start early before I waste another day. Never got to talk to Aunty last night.

  Walking to the office AGAIN, where Aunty work.

  Me: Hey, Aunty.

  Aunty: Yeah!

  Me: What happen last night? We supposed to talk about job stuff.

  Aunty: Yeah. Busy cooking feed all day.

  Me: Well!

  Aunty: Well, first you need a résumé.

  Me: Welllll! What is it?

  Aunty: It’s something to say, if you worked anywhere else. Your address, and stuff like that.

  Me: (thinking hard)

  Aunty: What now? You thinking overtime.

  Me: Nah. What else?

  Aunty: Well, you want me to help you?

  Me: Yeah. Or what?

  Aunty: What you mean or what!

  Me: Nah! Help me!

  Aunty: I don’t wanna waste my time talking and you’re not even gonna listen to me.

  Me: Nah! It’s right. Let’s do this thing.

  Aunty: Okay! Well …

  Later

  Aunty: There you go. It’s only one page long, but that’s okay.

  Me: So what I do with this? Hand it over to the boss person?

  Aunty: Yes! You know, manager or someone like a boss.

  Me: (smiling at my résumé)

  Aunty: That looks good.

  Me: Yeah. Looks solid.

  Aunty: Let’s take some copies.

  Me: What for copies? Okay.

  Aunty: What you just want to take one in — you need a few to take to different jobs.

  Me: I, yeah!

  Aunty: Put it in this folder.

  Me: Okay. Now what?

  Aunty: When you go town, just hand a copy of résumé to whatever job place you want to work.

  Me: True.

  I go look for a lift to town.

  Me: Kanessa, you going town?

  Kanessa: After school. I’m waiting for kids to finish school. Why?

  Me: I want to go town to drop some résumés off.

  Kanessa: Drop some what off?

  Me: Résumé.

  Kanessa: What you trying to look for a job?

  Me: Yeah.

  Kanessa: Well, wait after.

  Me: Okay. Pick me at Pop’s after.

  Kanessa: Okay.

  Waiting around past 3.30 pm. So I ring my cousin.

  Me: Kanessa, where you?

  Kanessa: Oh sorry, I’m town. I forgot — I thought you went to town with Pop.

  Me: (Hmmm) It’s right.

  I might as well go home.

  3.47 pm

  Day 3, 8.10 am

  Dear Mate,

  Well I got my things together. Better start looking for a lift early.

  Walk over to my other cousin’s house.

  Me: Reuben, take me town.

  Reuben: Why?

  Me: Are you going town or not?

  Reuben: Why?

  Me: Because I want to go to town. Derrr.

  Reuben: Why you want to go to town?

  Me: Because I want to!

  Reuben: I gotta go work.

  Me: I’ll be blowed. Gotta wait all day!

  Reuben: Go and find a lift.

  Me: Don’t worry. You make me sick.

  I can’t even get a lift. Waiting all day. I know, I’ll ask Pop if he’s going town.

  Me: Pop, you going town?

  Pop: Yes, in a minute.

  Me: Yes, wait for me!

  In the car driving to Kalgoorlie with Pop. It’s 10.39 am.

  Me: Guess what, Pop.

  Pop: What?

  Me: I’m looking for a job.

  Pop: That’s good, my boy!

  Me: I’m not going to be like those other boys. I’m gonna look for a job.

  Pop: Well that’s good. I’ll be very proud of wherever you work.

  Feeling special.

  Pop: Where you want me to drop you off?

  Me: Main street unna?

  Pop: What? Up the main street?

  Me: Yeah.

  Pop: Okay. Ring me after. I’m going to a meeting.

  Me: Okay.

  In the main street of Kalgoorlie, Hannan Street. Feeling confused. What now?

  Better start looking.

  But where first?

  Ladah, lots of people everywhere. I’ll go for a walk to Macca’s first.

  In the shop now. What shall I say? Who do I ask for?

  I suss the place out. Hope no Wongi here. Ngurnda [Wongutha for shame].

  Shall I or shall I not. Okay, here goes.

  I’m at the counter facing a lady.

  Lady: Can I help you?

  Me: Yes … erm … can I have a frozen coke? And who do I talk to to get a job?

  Lady: Yes, that will be a dollar and I’ll get my supervisor to speak to you.

  Me: Okay. Thank you.

  Waiting awkwardly at counter.

  Supervisor: How may I help you?

  Me: Yes, erm, I’m looking for a job.

  Supervisor: Take one of these application forms and fill it out. Bring it back with your résumé.

  Pulling résumé out of my pocket. Small as! Folded it a bit too much.

  Me: I have this paper here.

  I hold out the folded paper to the supervisor, unfolding it.

  Supervisor: Bring this back with this application.

  Me: Okay. Deuces.

  Well, that’s over. Better ring pop to pick me up.

  Me: Pop, pick me up.

  Pop: Where are you?

  Me: Macca’s near Woollies.

  Pop: Okay. Wait there.

  Me: Don’t take too long!

  Trip home with Pop, I showed him the application form, what I needed to complete.

  4.30 pm

  Day 4, 9.00 am-ish

  Dear Mate,

  Better get Aunty to help me fill this application out today.

  Me: Help me fill this form out?

  Aunty: What form?

  Me: I got this form from Macca’s yesterday.

  Aunty: Show me. True as who?

  Me: Here then. Look! What’s this then?

  Aunty: Solid. Let’s fill it in.


  Me: Okay.

  Driving to town with Aunty to hand application in to Macca’s.

  Aunty: Gone then. Go in and hand it in.

  Me: So what I do? Just give these two papers to the lady at the counter?

  Aunty: Yeah.

  Me: Okay.

  ‘Thug Life’ is playing in my head as I walk in to hand over résumé and application.

  Ten minutes later

  Aunty: What happened?

  Me: Nah? I did it.

  Aunty: That’s good.

  Me: Let’s go.

  Aunty: Well, what they said?

  Me: They said I gotta wait for phone call. They going to ring me!

  Aunty: Make sure your phone is charged up and can get a signal all the time.

  Me: Yeah.

  11.32 am

  Day 5, 10.00 am

  Dear Mate,

  I’m just waiting for the phone call. How long, I wonder?

  Darryl: Kyle, what you doing? Why are you always looking at your phone? Wanna come motorbike riding with me?

  Me: I’m waiting for a phone call from Macca’s for a job!

  Darryl: What? True?

  Me: Nah derr.

  Darryl: I want to get a job too!

  Me: You can’t get a job around here. It’s hard.

  Darryl: Nah, I’ll chop you up.

  Me: Is that a joke?

  Darryl: Well, what?

  Me: When you get older like me you can get a job.

  Darryl: When I get older I want to be like you!

  Me: Cool.

  Feeling all proud and happy

  11.32 am

  Day 6, 9am

  Dear Mate,

  Lost my phone last night. LADAH!

  I better start looking for my phone. NOW!

  I have searched everywhere. Where can it be?

  12.30 pm, later

  Me: Darryl, have you seen my phone? Do you know where I left it last night?

  Darryl: I seen your phone last in the lounge room at nana and pop’s on charge.

  Me: Okay, I’ll check.

  Darryl: Okay, see ya!