by Patrick Ford
“That’s nice,” said Sarah, “That should get his pulse racing.”
“Don’t be so uncouth, young lady. It is far too revealing. You should go change, Susan,” said Marci.
Susan looked to Jimmy. He could not deny her. “Let her go, Marci. This young man is obviously very special. Anyway, there is no time. He is at the door. Time we had a look at him.”
Marci went to the door and opened it to find a tall handsome boy, looking anxious. “You must be Jack,” she said, “Susan is ready. Come on in.”
Jack saw before him a dark-haired woman, a little overweight, and looking a little care worn. There was no mistaking the eyes, though. She was Susan’s mother. Susan came forward and took his hand. The now-familiar frisson was there. She introduced him in turn to her family. Jack saw a lively brown-haired boy, a statuesque fair girl of sixteen with laughing blue eyes, and a slender middle-aged man with an outstretched hand. Jack took the hand, and said, “Good evening, Mr. Baker. I’m pleased to meet you all.”
“Mr. Baker was my father, son. You call me Jimmy from now on.”
“Thank you, I will, and you can call me Mr. Riordan.” This was greeted with delighted laughter. The ice was broken.
“Off you go now, and it would be nice if you could come to supper on Sunday. I hope you like chicken?” Jack did like chicken. All of his life it had been a rare delicacy, confined to Easter and Christmas. On Ballinrobe, they ate mutton most days. It was there, and it was free. They walked out to the street to the ute.
“Don’t be late, Susan,” called her mother.
“Yes,” said Sarah, “be home before breakfast!”
This earned her a scolding from Marci. Jimmy Baker watched them go. Well, he thought, they always go eventually. He thanked God for granting him enough time to see his lovely daughter grow into the stunning young woman she had become. She looked so happy and beautiful tonight.
During the last month, Jimmy had felt worse than he had for some time. He knew it was time to look for a doctor to review his case and perhaps give him an up to date assessment. He feared his time was quickly running out.
Meanwhile, in an oval office in a large white building on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, DC, a serious meeting was taking place. A big man from Texas called Johnson was discussing a small country in Indochina. He did not want it, but it looked as if US ground forces may have to intervene in the guerrilla war that became more active each day. US advisors now numbered more than fifteen thousand.
Armidale, New South Wales, Australia—1964
Jack closed the car door for Susan and hurried around to the driver’s side. He tumbled into a sweet grotto of her scent, her warmth, and those lovely eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on his driving. Susan moved closer to him and placed her hand on his arm. He shivered in delight. “You look marvelous, tonight,” he said, “I’ll be the envy of all.”
“Well,” she replied, “I’m sure you are worth the effort. There will be other nice girls there tonight. I hope they don’t whisk you away.”
“An ice cube in hell would have a better chance than that.” She stroked his arm again. Jack thought he might not reach the social alive.
The party was in full swing when they arrived. The first person he saw as he entered was Bob O’Connor, with a pretty blonde on his arm. “G’day, Jack,” he said. “Wow, you’ve done all right for yourself!” His gaze swept across Susan. He stepped forward and introduced his girl. “This is Margie Hall from Gunnedah. She’s doing Arts.”
“So am I,” said Susan, “we may be in the same classes, especially if you are taking history.”
Margie’s ears pricked up at the accent. “Great. I’m doing American history. You will be a good friend to have.”
Bob said, “Mike is here somewhere. Look for a short dark well-endowed girl called Marlene. Anyhow, we’re going to dance.” The music was modern, plenty of Beatles and other popular groups.
Jack looked at Susan. “Would you like to dance?” She smiled and held out her arms. For the first time, Jack took her in his arms. Susan came in close to him, putting her arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder. He drank in the nearness of her, placing his hands around her waist as they drifted across the floor to a Beatles ballad. I could do this forever, thought Jack, forever and ever.
Sometimes the Gods are crazy, sometimes they are kind. Tonight they were well satisfied, and the evening was a huge success. There was a feeling of goodwill and bonhomie across the whole crowd. Jack looked at them all. There must be four hundred people here, he mused, people with dreams, people filled with excitement at starting their adult lives, people looking to a great future. What will happen to us all?
It was merciful that he did not know.
* * * *
The evening seemed to end suddenly. Jack looked at his watch. It was eleven-thirty and the partygoers were dispersing. They bade their acquaintances good night, old and new alike, and climbed into the car. This time Susan moved across to Jack and put her head on his shoulder. “I feel as though I’m in a dream,” she said. “Please don’t wake me up.”
As they approached Susan’s house, she asked Jack to go up to the lookout once again. They parked as before, looking down on the city that had become a new home for both of them. Jack put his arm around her shoulders, tilted up her chin and began to kiss her, softly at first, brushing her lips and cheeks with his. He looked into her eyes again, glittering in the distant lights. I am lost, he thought. I will never escape her beauty and her lovely eyes.
They kissed again, hungrily this time, tongues seeking out each other. He could taste her lipstick, her perfume, a faint trace of mouthwash—the whole of her. She twisted on the seat to place both arms around his neck, so she could face him, and pressed her body into his. He felt her soft breasts against his chest and almost swooned with the pleasure of it. He placed his hand on her knee then gently ran it up under her dress. He could feel glossy nylon, then the lacy top of her stocking and the wonderful soft, warm texture of her upper leg. She moaned softly and eased down in the seat to give him access to the sweet silken skin of her inner thigh. She moaned again and kissed him harder. “Oh my. Oh my,” she whispered.
Something made him stop. He looked down at that sweet face. “Not here,” he whispered. “When it happens, I want it to be perfect.” He kissed her with great passion for a long time. “Your parents will be waiting,” he said, “it’s time to go home.”
She kissed him again, and pressed his hands to her breasts. “I don’t want to go home. Stay with me forever.”
“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t.”
When they reached the door, he kissed her. She clung to him, pressing her body into his, twining her legs around his thigh and pushing herself against him. “Soon,” she whispered, “Please. I love you and I want you so much.”
Meanwhile, in a large oval office in a large white building on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, DC, a big man from Texas called Johnson had finished his meeting. He had instructed his Joint Chiefs to place the 101st Airborne at combat readiness. Before long, he would be adding further units to the list.
Armidale, New South Wales, Australia: 1964
Susan slipped quietly through the door. As usual, her mother was sitting up waiting for her. Marci had fallen asleep in the chair, a magazine spilled from her hands. In the yellow light, she looked old and tired. For the first time, Susan noticed a few silver strands in her dark hair.
Oh Momma, she thought, you worry so for us all. I know Daddy is very ill. I have seen the bloody handkerchiefs. I have heard his ragged breathing and seen the lines on his face. Mom, you cannot be everything to all of us. You cannot live our lives for us. Be nice to Jack for I love him with all my heart. My time in your care is ending. My life will be with him now, forever, and ever.
Later, in her bed, Susan remembered the feel of him, the smell of him, and the taste of him. She remembered his gentle touch on her thigh, how the desire had flooded through
her, turning her legs to jelly, making her wet with anticipation. God, how she wanted him. Please God make it soon, make it soon!
In the morning, she was surprised her mother did not remark on her late homecoming. She looked around the table. “Mom, where is Daddy?”
Marci looked gravely at her little family. “Your father is feeling poorly today, and won’t be going to work. I will be taking him to the doctor later. Susan, did you have an enjoyable evening?”
“Yes, Mom, it was wonderful. Jack is such a nice boy.”
“Ha, ha, Suzie’s in love,” jeered James Junior. “When’s the wedding?”
Marci rounded on him. “Stop that, stop it!” The girls stared at her. This was not like their mother.
Susan thought she saw a trace of fear in Marci’s eyes.
Meanwhile, just off a small country in Indochina, two US aircraft carriers and their escorts began to patrol the coastline, combat aircraft on standby, in a code yellow state of readiness. Combat air patrols are launched at dawn and dusk.
Goondiwindi, Queensland, Australia—1964
“I hope Jack and Denni are all right,” said Paddy. “Denni writes, but that bloody boy hasn’t put pen to paper since he left here a month ago.”
Helen patted his shoulder. “He’ll be fine. There must be so much new for him to take in, so many things he has to do.”
“Well, I hope the silly young bugger hasn’t fallen in love or something.”
Helen remembered Paddy’s nieces. If Jack had fallen in love, it was probably with one or both of them, but that was a different kind of love. She prayed for him, for her only son. Sometimes she thought Jack had grown up too fast, learning to shoot, to drive, to ride, and all the other things to do on a station. For Paddy, Jack had been as good as another station hand for at least five years. He was more than a son. He was a good mate, and there is no finer description of a man in the Australian vernacular.
Paddy was failing. She knew that. He had lost more weight and there were lines on his face that had no business being there in a man of his age. He missed his son, not only for the work he could do, but also for the companionship he provided. He spent long hours driving around the station. Like Jack, he was renewing his link with the land. He would stop in the shade and look over grazing sheep, or endless wheat fields, remembering how it was when he had commenced his labours here. He knew he was nearing the end. He knew his achievements here had been extraordinary. He wanted to be sure his son would replace him as the steward of Ballinrobe.
The last visit to the specialist in Brisbane had been disappointing. The medics had nothing new to offer. They had tried different diets, different medications—none had been helpful. As they left the clinic, the heart specialist had taken Helen aside. “Helen, you have to get him to slow down. He is doing far too much. If he continues, he may not have much longer.”
As much as his condition, Paddy’s frustration at his forced inability to work was killing him. He had always been a larger than life man, an older version of Action Jackson. His life was physical, it always had been. From the logging trucks to the land clearing and hard labour that had turned Ballinrobe from a wasteland of Prickly Pear to a prosperous and productive station, he had always been on the front line. Having to sit on the veranda and watch Ollie and Mick do the work was galling.
“I don’t know where the kids get their thirst for book learning,” he would say. “I never read a bloody word in my life that wasn’t in an instruction manual or the like.” Men are wont to forget that the women in their lives have brains too, and quite a few of his relatives were not lacking in intellect—not to mention Helen and her family.
The phone rang. Paddy answered. “Yes, what? Who’s that?” The phone at Ballinrobe was still on a primitive manual exchange. “Righto, put him on. “G’day mate, how are you... Yeah… Yeah... You bloody little beauty, see you then.”
Paddy turned to Helen. “Guess what? Jack has managed to have next Friday off. He is coming home for the weekend. How about that?” He paused and a gleam in his eye revealed a glimpse of the Paddy of old. “Says he’s bringing a sheila to meet us. Must be bloody keen, eh?”
Helen could see Paddy was ecstatic at the news. Jack’s visit would be good for both of them. The big house sometimes felt like a hollow shell since the youngsters had gone. “They’re coming on Friday? That is not much notice. At least we have enough to feed them. I’ll put the girl in Denni’s room.”
Paddy had the old roguish sparkle in his eye. “Jack might want her in his room.”
“Paddy, don’t be disgusting. Not under my roof. Did he say what her name was?”
“Susan, I think.”
“Hmm, the Willis girls mentioned a Susan. I wonder if it’s the same one.”
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough. I think this calls for a beer.” He was animated, excited. His best mate was coming home!
Meanwhile, at Andrews Air Force Base, commanders of transport squadrons received orders to prepare to airlift combat troops and their equipment to Clark Field. If it went ahead, it would be the single largest troop deployment since the war in Korea. Clark Field is near Manila in the Philippines. This is not far to the north of Australia and not far from a small country in Indochina.
Armidale, New South Wales, Australia—1964
If they only could, Jack and Susan would have spent every waking moment together. However, both had to turn at least some of their attention to their studies.
Jack quickly fell into the rhythm of his academic life. He was in a class of twenty-four, all but two of them male. The two girls quickly learned to give as good as they got from the men and proved to be good sports and good friends. Jack was happy in his work, although the theoretical nature of his first year was a bit boring. He and Susan managed to meet most mornings over coffee in the Students Union cafeteria; when they did, they could not take their hands off each other.
Jack had visited the Bakers for supper as invited. This was to become a regular event for him. On that first Sunday, there was another guest. Sarah had managed to get her mother to invite her current, and, so far, most serious boyfriend. John Starr was Sarah’s fellow student at the High School, albeit a year older. As such, he had a driver’s license, and could borrow his father’s car occasionally. His parents owned a restaurant on the main street, and John had been buttering up Marci by bringing her surplus desserts and cakes, for she had a sweet tooth. It had been a pleasant evening. Marci had decided to treat the Australian boys to one of her specialties, southern fried chicken. Long before fast food, this was a favourite all over the southern United States and still is. She would not disclose her secret, but said she would make sure her girls would get the recipe when they married. The irrepressible James Junior quipped that Susan would be getting the recipe soon. Everyone laughed, but Marci’s laughter did not reach her eyes.
Marci and Jimmy had discussed the problems presented by the prospect of the girls ‘going steady’ as Americans put it. “Jimmy,” said Marci, “they’re both too young for this. I fear it will lead to trouble if we allow it to continue.”
Jimmy understood her worry. He knew about Sophie and her Karl. However, he could see they could not lock up their daughters forever. Perhaps his newfound clarity of thought had given him a sixth sense. Birds have to be free to fly. He said as much. “Susan is a young woman now. She does not need your protection. I agree Sarah needs some supervision, but it won’t be long now and she must be free, too.” Marci did not like it, but they agreed on some house rules for the time being.
The chicken was delightful. Marci served it on a huge platter, in the middle of which was a large mound of whipped potato, hollowed out and filled with fragrant gravy. She apologised for the green peas, saying she could not buy the black-eyed peas that normally accompanied the dish. No one complained. Jack had been telling James Junior about Ballinrobe. Everything fascinated him, except the part about shooting kangaroos.
“That’s awful,” he said, “they’re so cute.�
�� Even an explanation of the necessity to cull numbers when they reached plague proportions did not sit well with this audience.
After the meal, Marci announced she wanted to tell them about some new house rules she and Jimmy had agreed on, since they now had regular boyfriends visiting. “We want you to go out on dates only on Saturday nights, and only visit on weekends. Both the girls have to concentrate on their studies as you boys both have to as well.” Jack felt a bit put out, but realising he and Susan could meet every day as adults at uni, readily agreed. Sarah and John, still at school, had no say in the matter. Susan walked Jack to his car. She kissed him goodnight and arranged to meet next day. “I love you and want you so, so much,” she said. “I’ll go mad if I cannot have you soon.”
Jack felt the same way. “Don’t worry,” he said, “wait for Saturday night.”
Meanwhile, not far to the north, small men and women dressed in black and carrying AK47s were assisting regular soldiers of a small country in Indochina invade a third small country in Indochina. In a small office in a five-sided building in Washington DC, preparations were underway to increase significantly the number of US combat aircraft in another small country in Indochina.
Armidale, NSW, Australia: 1964
Jack was feeling his frustration to the limit. All day he thought of her, all night he yearned for her. They met in the Students’ Union, the library, or on the lawns. They held hands, they talked of the future, of life on Ballinrobe, and they talked of children. Jack knew the current situation was hopeless unless Susan could have more freedom. A stolen kiss or two over coffee was not enough.
He visited Bernadette in her college to talk about it. “Susan’s father is very ill, you know,” she said, “I think he has cancer and I doubt he will see the year out. I do not know if she knows or not, but I’m sure she senses it. Her mother is almost paranoid about something happening to her children. I think if Mr. Baker dies, she will be on the next boat home and she will not leave anyone behind.”
