Barefoot and Lost

by Brian Francis Cox

  ‘Hello Stan, I’m very well thank you.’

  ‘Owen, yer never told me he was a Pom.’

  ‘Didn’t think it mattered.’

  ‘It doesn’t, my Grand folks were from the old country, Salisbury I think, do yer know it Phil?’

  ‘No sorry, I don’t think I have ever been there.’ With five of us, now, all seated around the table, Owen says grace.

  A good night’s sleep has made me restless, I want to be doing something but Gloria has said that my feet need to be rested, so once again I am sitting on the veranda watching the birds. A large tree that looks like it is dead, with no leaves on it at all, has suddenly come into bloom looking like the magnolia tree in Alexandra Park, as I stare at it not believing what I see I realize the flowers are in fact birds, pure white as large as a pigeon, with a yellow crest on their head. Gloria has come up behind and startles me ‘Fancy a cup of tea Phillip, or a cold drink’

  ‘Thanks Gloria a cold drink would be nice; what are those birds on that tree’

  ‘Gold crested cockatoos, beautiful but are a menace when we plant seed of any kind, they eat it as fast as we sow, we don’t plant a lot most of our land is grazing but up north in the Wimmera where they grow wheat the cocky is public enemy number one’

  ‘Do the farmers shoot them?’

  ‘No they are protected, so they scare them, they even have special patrols to do it; orange or lemon’

  ‘Sorry: oh orange please’ A truck rattles along the highway, squawking loudly the cockatoos take off; there must be two hundred of them. Gloria returns with a large glass of orange with ice cubes floating on top. ‘

  ‘Tomorrow Phillip depending on what we have heard from Constable Connelly, we may go to Coleraine to buy you shoes,’

  ‘Will I have to walk along the street in these slippers?’

  ‘Only if you want to, but I expect we will pull right outside the shoe shop door’

  ‘I hope so I wouldn’t want anyone to laugh at me’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about that, who knows you may start a new trend and everyone will be buying slippers for street wear’

  We have just sat down to eat lunch, the telephone outside in the exchange on the veranda, starts to ring, Gloria breathes a deep sigh as she gets up to answer it, ‘Why don’t people observe lunch times anymore?’ Owen is waiting for her to return before he says grace.

  ‘Owen, its Michael Connelly, he wants a word with you.’

  ‘What now?’ Gloria nods, ‘Very well; for what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful; please start your meal.’ Owen, out of character, slams the fly screen door behind him. Gloria is looking shocked or stern, I’m not sure which, but it doesn’t look like good news. Owen returns from his phone call, I can’t judge his expression either; he sits down puts his napkin on his lap,

  ‘I have some good news and some bad, the bad can wait until after our lunch.’ We are all looking at him, ‘The good news is that there is no report held by the police in Victoria or South Australia of a runaway juvenile, there is however, a missing persons report by the Salvation Army for a Philip Barton, apparently that is Philip spelt with one L aged fifteen. Michael has also checked with the Police in Perth, there is no report of a Phillip Snell missing from there, so young man, you have either been telling us a pack of lies or-----’

  ‘I haven’t been lying I-----’

  ‘Hang on, don’t get on your high horse, let me finish; or the Brothers want you out of their hair in case you make a fuss, if it became national news it wouldn’t show them up in a good light would it?’

  ‘No I suppose not.’

  ‘So what do we do now, Owen?’

  ‘That depends on Phillip, if he wants to stay with us then I will give Jack Cunningham a call; he’s our solicitor in Hamilton Phillip, to see how we go about getting you legally into Australia, at present you have no Identity.’

  ‘That is great Owen; what do you say Phillip?’

  ‘Yes please Gloria, I really want to stay.’

  ‘Have we all finished? We all look expectantly at Owen, ‘I’m afraid Skeeter McKenzie has been involved in an accident, he was killed.’

  ‘Owen, how, when?’

  ‘He was found at the bottom of Quinn’s Gully early this morning, apparently he ran off the road in his Ute, they found it, and him, upside down at the bottom of the gully, he’d been dead for a few days.’ Gloria puts her hands to her face

  ‘Oh my God, Owen, that poor man on his own’

  ‘Michael said that Bill Halloran up at Mundi, had heard this dog howling all night, he didn’t think too much about it, but when it went on for the second night he went to investigate at sun up this morning. It was his dog that found them, Skeeter’s Border Collie was still chained to the Ute, it wouldn’t let Bill get near Skeeter, he said he could do nothing for Skeeter so he went up to Frazer’s place and called the police.

  ‘How terrible, what about the dog ’

  ‘The dog had a piece of Michael’s mate; they had to wait for a vet to arrive before they could get close to Skeeter’.

  ‘Oh no; he didn’t have to kill Defor did he?’

  ‘No, Phillip she sedated him, the dog has a broken leg, and his mouth is in a poor condition where he tried to chew through the chain, even so he faired a lot better than poor old Skeeter’

  ‘He must have been in a poor state after what, three or four days?’

  ‘Could be five days Stan, if he crashed the Ute when he abandoned Phillip.’

  ‘Don’t bear thinking about, glad it wasn’t me that found him.’

  ‘Not really the thing to reflect upon at the dining table, anyway Jack, Stan, we have work to do.’ Gloria and I are left on our own; she gives me a hug,

  ‘I’m so sorry Phillip; nobody deserves to go like that; are you okay about it?’

  ‘Yes, as much as I dislike him for doing what he did, I wouldn’t want him dead.’

  ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t, would you like to give me a hand with the washing up?’

  ‘Only if you let me dry, Gloria, I was just thinking, if I had died that would have been two deaths for a pair of boots, don’t make sense, does it?’

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with your boots, it’s the demon drink that is to blame.’

  ‘I’m never ever going to get drunk, it’s stupid.’

  ‘Never say never, drink like anything else, is okay in moderation.’

  While we are sitting in the living room after dinner, the phone rings, Gloria, as usual, goes to the exchange to answer it, she returns with a grin on her face, Phillip, that was Constable Connelly, they have retrieved your bag and boots from Skeeter, he wanted to know if you wanted them, I told him yes. He’s coming tomorrow around eleven to return them.

  ‘Does that mean we won’t be going to Coleraine tomorrow?’

  ‘No, with your own boots back there is no urgency; let’s talk to Constable Connelly and then make up our minds about your future here, okay.’

  ‘Okay’

  My feet feel normal this morning so I have ventured down to the gate that has a grid made of logs beside it; a gravel drive leads to a main road. I watch a large truck, like the one that passed me the other day, rattle along, a cloud of red dust following it, the trailer from this distance, appears to have sheep in it. Through the dust from the other direction I can see the police car, at last I will get my boots, I can’t wait to stop wearing Gloria’s pink slippers.

  The police car clatters over the grid the driver gives me a wave. ‘G’day Phillip, like your footwear, I’m told they are the latest thing in fashion’ he says with grin.

  ‘Yes, I don’t think I’ll bother about my boots, think I will stick with these.’

  ‘Not sure how you will feel about wearing your boots again, Skeeter was wearing them when we found him.’

  ‘Oh, I hadn’t thought of that, are they okay?’

  ‘Good as new, the Coroner removed them; he thinks they could have caused Skeeter to cr
ash his Ute.’

  ‘Why, how could they?’

  ‘Skeeter’s Ute had no rubbers on the brake pedal and the soles of the boots are very shiny, so when he braked going down the hill towards Quinn’s Gully, his foot probably slipped off the pedal causing him to lose control, also, being drunk didn’t help.’

  ‘He got me to do that while he was getting me drunk, he had me rubbing mutton fat into them, to preserve them he said.’

  ‘Well that was his demise, strange isn’t it, for some one that had spent all his life dirty and scruffy, it was cleanliness that probably killed him?’

  ‘Constable Connelly, what has become of Defor?’

  ‘Skeeter’s dog; when he recovers the vet will be looking for someone to give him a good home.’

  ‘Do you think Owen would let me keep him?’

  ‘You will have to ask him, but I expect it depends on what you are doing.’

  We walk into the house, I’m carrying my bag, glancing inside the boots look good to me, I have worn dead mans boots before; Gertie’s son is dead, Michael is dead and the shoes Gran got from the Red Cross probably came from a dead person. I’ll wear them, if they don’t mind, why should I?

  The Constable slips off his boots before entering the house. I take off the slippers and place my boots beside his.

  ‘G’day Michael, fancy a brew?’

  ‘Love one, thanks Gloria’

  ‘Owen and the boys are out in the woolshed giving it the once over before the team arrives next week, they’ll be back for lunch will, you stay for a bite?’

  ‘That would be very nice, thanks Gloria, I need to have a word with Owen so yes, I’ll stay thanks.’

  ‘Constable is the main road you came up the road to Melbourne, the one Owen and Jack found me on?’

  ‘It’s the one they found you on, but not the road to Melbourne, it’s the Glenelg Highway that goes between Mount Gambier, and Hamilton, the Melbourne road, the Princes Highway, is further south.’

  ‘I see, so not only was I walking barefoot, I was lost as well.’ Gloria puts her hand on my shoulder

  ‘I don’t think you were lost Phillip, I’d prefer to think that a power, stronger than us, guided you here to Gadoona’

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Owen and Gloria have been in touch with the immigration department; they are sending all my documents and have agreed that the Lewis’s can be my foster parents, subject to an interview in a place to be agreed, probably Melbourne. Owen is reluctant to travel the two hundred miles there which would involve an overnight stay. Gloria wants to go as she sees it as a shopping trip. I would like to see Melbourne also, but Owen would prefer to meet them in Hamilton or, he thinks Gadoona would be best, because then they would be able to see the environment that I will be raised in. It is certainly the best place I have ever lived in; I love it here at Gadoona.

  The week after I got here the shearing gang arrived; things were so busy no one really had time for me. I spent most of the day watching the shearers at work, I can’t believe how quick they are, one minute they are dragging a sheep out of a pen, a minute later the sheep, minus its wool, is scampering down a shute. Owen explained that the gang are contractors that travel from station to station, they give a price to shear the whole flock so it is in their interest to do it as quickly as they can, therefore making more money. Each shearer is paid for each sheep, so the more he shears the more money he earns; I wouldn’t like to be a shearer they work so hard.

  The Gang’s quarters are just across the road from the woolshed. They have a cook who cooks all their meals, but the wool classer, Mr. Cornwallis eats with us. He doesn’t work for the Ganger but for Dalgety, the people that sell Gadoona’s wool. Jack spends a lot of time talking to him because that’s what he is going to learn at College.

  It is just over two months since I arrived at Gadoona. Next Thursday will be Christmas day. It isn’t like Christmas, the weather is so hot, but we have a decorated Christmas tree in the living room and Gloria says we will have a party. Tomorrow, Friday, we break up from school. I have been attending the High School at Casterton, which is twenty five miles from Gadoona. The school bus only comes as far as Strathdownie, so, every morning and afternoon, either Jack or Gloria drive me the five miles to meet the bus.

  Today, Tuesday, we are rattling along the Glenelg highway, running late as usual when it is Jack’s turn. Suddenly the engine cuts out, Jack knocks it out of gear and coasts to a stop, ‘Come on, I’ll show you how to fix it.’

  ‘Why, what is wrong with it Jack, will you be able to fix it?’

  ‘No worries, two minutes is all it will take, the same thing happens all the time.’

  Jack opens the bonnet, ‘Hold it open so it doesn’t come down on my head; right, see there that is the coil and that with the seven thick black wires coming out the top, is the distributor. See the centre wire, the one from the coil to the distributor, it is loose, that’s the problem.’ Jack pushes it back then jams a matchstick down beside the wire. ‘Right mate, fixed, go and start the old bugger.’ One turn on the starter motor and the engine roars into life.

  On the return journey home, when I got off the bus at Strathdownie, Jack is sitting in the passenger seat with a grin on his face, ‘You’re driving home’.

  ‘Me, I don’t believe you; you have got to be joking?’

  ‘Fair dinkum mate, you’ve been driving this old Dodge around the yard for the past two weeks, going round and round, this is the same only straight, so it’s easier.’ After a nervous start I find Jack is right, it is easy.

  ‘There yer go, like falling off a log, you can do it both ways from now on.’ Jack reckons I’m a natural, I think it’s fantastic.

  I have been feeling bad about losing contact with Billy and, especially Rachel. Gloria suggested I wrote to the Salvation Army missing persons in Adelaide, giving as much detail of both of them that I could, and giving them details of myself and why, I wanted to contact them. I have found it difficult because I realize that I do not know very much detail that would help find them. In my first letter I apologized for running away and said I hoped that it hadn’t caused them too much trouble, and then I realized that it was Philip Barton, that ran away, not Phillip Snell, so I tore it up. I have written three letters all to the address that Gloria looked up for me; one searching for both of them, the other two are one each for Billy and Rachel. Trying to make contact with old friends has me thinking about June and Pop, Gloria has suggested that I write a letter, in draft, and then, when we go to Coleraine or Hamilton shopping, we will buy two Air letters, and then I can copy my draft letter on to both of them.

  ‘Gloria I want to buy Christmas presents for everybody but I only have ten shillings, I don’t think that is enough for four presents.’

  ‘Well that depends on what you want to buy, do you have any ideas?’

  ‘No, no idea at all’

  ‘Presents aren’t half as good if you know what you are getting; so, after school tomorrow, you will be finishing at two, Jack can pick you up as usual, at four. Go to the General store, purchase your presents, I’ll ring Malc Gallagher to put them on my tab and when Jack comes for you he can sign for them.’

  ‘That will be no good; you will be buying your own presents.’

  ‘Okay, then I will instruct Malc to start a tab for you, which you can settle with your wages each month.’

  ‘But I don’t get wages.’

  ‘You will, from the first of January because, during the summer holidays you will be working like the rest of us and will receive a wage.’

  ‘Wow, how much will I get what will I have to do?’

  ‘Well, the cows have to be milked morning and evening so you will learn to milk a cow and that will be your task each day, for that you will get three pound a week.’

  ‘Fantastic, that will be eh-- twelve pound a month, in a year I’d-----’

  ‘Don’t get carried away you have to learn to milk first, and while you‘re doing that you will be paid nothi
ng.’

  ‘When can I start to learn?’

  ‘You can start Saturday morning, at six thirty. The cows are early risers and don’t like to be kept waiting; Owen will call you at six.’

  ‘That’s the middle of the night; only joking, I’ll be there with knobs on, I can’t wait.’

  Geraldine, Malc’s wife, is helping me to choose my presents, on her advice I have selected a cotton blouse with embroidery around the neck which, she says Gloria has been looking at for the past two weeks; a presentation pack of Kensitas cigarettes, which I know are Jacks favourite and a bottle of red wine which, Geraldine says is Owens favourite, but Stan is a problem, she doesn’t know him and he never comes to the store.

  It is nearly time for Jack to arrive and I still haven’t bought anything for Stan, ‘Phillip, what do you think of these?’ Malc is showing me some waterproof things about two foot long looking puzzled I ask,

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Stockman’s Gaiters, they fit over the top of your boots to keep your feet dry when you’re riding in the rain.’

  ‘But if you’re riding a horse how do your feet get wet?’

  ‘Come here I’ll show you.’ On the wall is a picture of a stockman wearing a long waterproof coat, beside it on a rack, are three coats like the picture. ‘You see when it rains the rain runs off your coat and fills your boots these gaiters go up your leg and prevent that.’

  ‘Do you think he would like something like those?’

  ‘I don’t know the man, but if I was a stockman I would be pleased to have a pair.’

  ‘He might have some already.’

  ‘I doubt it, they are a new idea, but if he has he can bring them back and I’ll change them okay?’

  ‘How much are they?’