Black Angels???Red Blood

by Steven McCarthy

  The kids reacted excitedly and then they laughed at each other, some in disbelief. They started talking about other stories Tim had told them about the stars. Billy wanted to hear the story about the planet beyond the big star on the edge of the universe again and Tim obliged. By this time the three of them were all trying to sit on Tim’s lap, until Sherry scolded them. The youngest one, Thomas, didn’t relent and made himself comfortable while Tim told the story.

  Sherry pulled the roast, fish and vegies out of the oven and told Jane to set the table. Their attention was now focused on food.

  Afterwards, Tim said from a full stomach. “That was great, Sherry, thanks a lot.” Alby agreed as he pulled a packet of cigarettes out and offered Tim one. Sherry cleared the table and made another pot of tea while hunting the kids off to get ready for bed. Tim finished his tea and cigarette and bid Alby and Sherry goodnight.

  Tim’s shack was humble. Two rooms, a kitchen and a bedroom. The kitchen doubled as a lounge room with the television and radio. Without television and radio, life out west could get very boring. He had a shaded area out the front of his shack with a few chairs and he sat there wiling away the hours when he had nothing to do.

  The town had fewer than a hundred people, one shop, one pub, a doctor and a few very small businesses, which Tim gathered had been set up to barter rather than as full-on businesses. He traded his best hunting and fishing knife for the radio. The man Tim traded with repaired second-hand radios and televisions. After the radio started producing a scratchy sound, he got his television from Bourke. After he got his television, the radio worked great and the television was scratchy. He thought the man who traded him the radio was having a go at him.

  The nights out west were great for watching the stars. Tim had knocked a huge hole in his bedroom wall to watch the stars, and sometimes in hot weather he took his bed outside to get an all-over view and count the falling stars. Sometimes he invited people over for tea just to sit outside afterwards to talk and look at the stars.

  The weekend was slow and on Monday morning Tim got up and had his usual cereal breakfast with powdered milk, a cup of tea and a cigarette. Sometimes he boiled the copper for a shower but today he just washed. He then went for a walk into the bush to check his dope plants. He knew that some people uptown knew that he smoked pot, via some loose lips, and he took extra precautions when he went to water them, bringing back a fish or bush tucker as an alibi. This time Tim came back with a duck. It put up a bit of a struggle and had scratched him on his left arm below the elbow. He caught it in amongst the reeds while a stack of them were feeding. He plucked and gutted it, then washed and went for a walk uptown. It was mid-morning, Tim guessed. He never wore a watch or had a clock but his knowledge of the bush included telling the time. He passed a couple of women who were on the other side of the road’. Elaine and Marion were born and bred locals who could have passed for full bloods except for an Irishman their great-grandmother had fallen for. They were in their late thirties and had eight kids between them. They also used to look after Tim when he was small. He gave them a bright smile and a wave while making a mental note to drop in for a cup of tea with them.

  Mrs Bowrie was serving behind the counter as usual. Tim had started school with her sons, but they no longer lived in the town. They chatted for a while and Tim selected his groceries, getting a few extra tinned goodies to go with the duck. The noticeboard advertised a dance coming up in two weeks. These were usually reserved for the cockies but a smattering of Mroodies, including Tim, sometimes went. Tim only went along to have a look at the cockies’ daughters. At least in this day and age they were allowed in, much to the dismay of most of the men. Tim and Shane had been taught to dance by Aunty May and even the mothers sometimes made their husbands jealous by dancing with them.

  If Shane didn’t have enough money to go with Tim to the dance, Tim would give it to him. He hated going to dances by himself. He walked back down the street and noticed a couple of regulars in the pub. He also noticed that the publican’s daughter, Caroline, was working. He wondered when she had got back. He did a quick mental check of his budget, and with a spring in his step headed to his shack to deposit the groceries before going to visit Aunty May and Shane.

  Aunty May’s ten-year-old son, Steven, greeted him. “Hello, Tim.”

  “Hello, Steven. Where’s Mum?”

  “She’s fishing with Ruby.” Ruby was Aunty May’s daughter.

  Shane came out and said hello.

  “There’s a dance coming up in a fortnight. Wanna come?” Tim asked.

  “A cockies’ do?” Shane enquired. “Sure, I’ll come along.”

  They talked for a while and Tim told Shane that Caroline was back in town, adding, “I’m going up for a few beers and a game of pool tonight.”

  “I’m coming too,” Shane answered quickly.

  They were both interested in Caroline and she knew this and played up to it. As far as Tim knew, there was no one in town who had been successful with her. “I’m gonna go back to the shack and fix a few things. I’ll see ya later.” Tim picked himself up and went across the well-worn pathway between his shack and Aunty May’s. The track petered out halfway and turned into a vacant piece of land. There used to be a house there until the family moved and it was demolished. Everyoneincluding Tim, scavenged what they could. The tin that provided the shade out the front of his house came from there.

  Tim turned the radio on and lay down for a while to relax and listen to some music. He woke a couple of hours later and went to light the fire. It was going on for five, he judged, according to the length of the shadows. It always took him a week or two to readjust his timing when daylight saving came in. He pulled out his best clothes: Jeans, white long-sleeved cotton shirt, and his riding boots which he polished while waiting for the water to heat up.

  Shane was spruced up when Tim came to collect him. Tim put an extra twenty in his kick.

  “You’s going to the pub?” Aunty May asked them.

  “Yeah, we’re going for a game of pool.”

  Ruby chimed in, “I bet Caroline’s back. Look how they’re dressed.”

  They entered the pub and went straight to the bar. There was an old Mroody as well as a few others there. The old Mroody wasn’t all that old, it’s just that the grog had taken its toll. There were a few whitefellas there in the same category.

  Brownie, the publican, served them a couple of beers. They had timed it so that Brownie would be having tea pretty soon and, of course, with Caroline there, she would be serving by herself for an hour at least. Caroline walked in and instantly said g’day to them both.

  “How’s Sydney?” Tim asked.

  “I’m finished with Sydney. Got my degree and my dear father has promised me a trip overseas for a month.”

  “That’s great. When do you leave?” Shane piped in.

  “I’m leaving in a week, then I’m off to Europe,” said Caroline.

  She went over to serve the other customers and then came back to talk. “I’ve been up to Kakadu for a week. It’s fantastic up there. What have you two been up to?”

  Tim answered first. “I was in Sydney about six weeks back. I should’ve looked you up.”

  “I would’ve been too busy with exams then.” Caroline turned her attention to Shane. “And you.”

  “Fishing, hunting, bought an old car that I’m trying to fix up,” Shane replied.

  “Looking for transport out of here, are you?” she joked, knowing that he was a died-in-the-wool desert Mroody.

  “Naah, just wanta travel and see a few other places.” He then added, “This is my home.”

  “I was only joking,” she offered.

  “I know,” he replied.

  Tim went to the jukebox to pick a song. Apart from country and western, the ‘70s classics were the only ones worth considering. He selected Foreigner and Linda Ronstadt and returned to the bar. Shane had obviously hit a funny bone as Caroline was laughing. Shane always had heaps of one-lin
ers but Tim’s humour was developed during the course of a conversation. Tim was patient and took a back seat, eyeing off the painting of the naked woman above the bar. A faint smile creased his lips as he thought about it. “Put up a picture of a naked woman and we’ll drink anything.”

  “Well, Tim, are you going to settle out here?” Caroline politely drew Tim back into the conversation.

  “I just wanted to get away from the cities for a while, you never know,” he answered. “What about you? What are you gonna do when you come back from overseas?”

  “I’ve been offered a job in a company in Melbourne. I’ll probably take it.”

  “Jobs are hard to come by. Good on ya!” Tim complimented her.

  Brownie returned from his meal but Caroline didn’t leave the bar, much to the delight of Tim and Shane. She talked to the older man in the bar and soon they were laughing and acting like kids. Caroline was the only eligible woman in these parts besides Cassie, and, as usual, when word got around that she was back, there was a steady stream of beaus in and out of the pub. Tim was glad it was Monday, a night the cockies rarely came to town. He wanted to actually have a talk with her without the added worry of jealous suitors.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  POOR FELLA ME

  I hope you tell the other bastards that you’re going to Melbourne, Tim said to himself. That’ll knock the shit out of’em. Shane tapped him on the knee and nodded in the direction of four strangers entering the bar.

  Two men and two women, and from the city as far as Tim could tell. A fifth person entered and she was a Koori. They sat in the corner and everybody was looking at them. Strangers were rarer than hen’s teeth and they always got their share of ogling from everyone.

  The Koori woman came over to talk to Tim and Shane. “G’day, I’m Wendy.”

  “I’m Shane and this is Tim. What brings you to these parts?” Shane asked.

  “We’re making a doco on the drought for the ABC. “I’m the gopher.”

  “Tim worked for a film company in Sydney,” Shane informed Wendy. Caroline had moved to listen to the conversation.

  “I was a gopher too,” Tim explained.

  “What’d you do, twice as much running?” Shane quipped.

  Tim looked wryly at Shane and asked Wendy, “How long you’s gonna be around for?”

  “No more than a week. We’re travelling a bit and hope to cover as much country as possible. You both locals?”

  “Yeah, we’re both locals but Tim’s been away for a long time.”

  “Yeah, you don’t look as dusty as everybody else.” Wendy smiled. She was about twenty. One of her friends joined them. Tim gathered Sean was in her mid-twenties and was a career-minded person.

  Sean explained that they wanted a guide because they were going off-roading. Tim knew Shane would be the lucky bastard. He knew the properties better than some of the cockies. Tim told them about Shane’s bush skills, and Sean was suitably impressed and asked him some pertinent questions. She took him to the table where the others were and they had a discussion. They were very business-like, Tim thought. Taking notes and everything.

  Tim found out that Wendy was a Queenslander from Hervey Bay.

  “What film company did you work for?” she asks Tim.

  “I worked for the guys who made Strangers in Paradise. I just did security and a bit of running around for them in Victoria. It’s a great show. Should be coming out round about now. Don’t miss it.

  “What are you doin’ right out here, Tim?” Wendy asked.

  “I’m having a break from the cities. They just got to be too much,” Tim answered.

  “I can understand that.”

  “How did you get a job with these fellas?” Tim asked.

  “You know, the year of indigenous people and all that,” Wendy answered.

  “When are you moving to your locations?”

  “As early as possible in the morning. So you reckon Shane will come?”

  “Of course. It’s not often you get to see women out here, let alone three. I’d love to have gone. It’d beat talking to the birds and the trees and anything else that moves.”

  “At least it’s peaceful,” Wendy said.

  “It doesn’t take away all the scars,” Tim said, admonishing himself for letting the conversation turn personal and harsh.

  “Time heals all wounds,” Wendy said, looking at Tim with a “there are better things in life” look.

  “Yes and death is the ultimate healer of all.”

  “Hey, that’s pretty good,” Wendy said, her humour overcoming Tim’s gloom.

  Shane rejoined them at the bar.

  “Are you coming to show us your country, Shane?”

  “Sure am. Some good dollars involved. I’ll be able to shout you to the dance, Tim,” Shane said.

  Tim leant in Wendy’s direction and said, “It’s a private joke.”

  “What’s a private joke?” Caroline intruded between Wendy and Tim.

  “If we told you, it wouldn’t be private,” Shane winked at Caroline.

  “I wonder where…” Wendy said, turning towards the door. “Here she is.”

  Tim almost fell off his stool. In walked Sylvia. She walked up to the bar.

  “Here’s our front person, Sylvia,” said Wendy and introduced her to Shane and then Tim.

  “G’day, it’s been a while,” Tim said.

  “Only if you live out here. Time passes very quickly in Sydney.”

  “You guys know each other?” Wendy asked.

  “I met Tim in Sydney last year before Christmas. Well, move over, Tim, and get me a drink before I die of thirst,” Sylvia said, shifting Tim and the conversation to a relaxed stage.

  “Shane tells me you’ve worked on some films, Tim,” Sean said, intending to find out his background.

  “I didn’t do any technical work. Why? Did he try and get me a job too,” Tim joked.

  “No. Just didn’t expect to meet anybody out here with film experience.”

  “This’ll be the best job you’ve had, Sylvia. Running around the outback checking the damage our wonderful livestock have done,” Tim said.

  “The drought is fairly big news back home. The farmers having to walk off their properties and all the hardship and weepy stories. It sells,” Sylvia answered truthfully.

  “I think they all need a crash course in landcare,” Tim said.

  “Is this your home, Tim?” Sean asked.

  “I was born here but got educated in Queensland, over the border. I’m actually Gumilaroi of the Gun-eedah clan. When my people ran from the whites, a few came out here. I do consider this my home. My father is from this tribe so I have no hesitation in claiming it.”

  “You seem to be well-educated. Did you do much study after school?” Dean asked.

  “Not much. Nothing complete, anyway. I’m basically self-taught. I wanted to know everything when I was younger.”

  Shane, Wendy, Caroline and Peter were having a laugh about something, while the director had returned to his chair and was making more notes. Sean went over to Wendy and started talking to her about business and Sylvia moved closer to the bar. They were all standing, even though there were chairs available.

  Tim offered Sylvia a chair and they sat down. Tim could see Brownie smiling out of the corner of his eye.

  Tim noticed Shane looking at him and indicating by rubbing his thumb and forefinger that he wanted money. Tim got up and excused himself to go to the toilet. Shane followed. Tim handed him a ten. “The cameraman has got some heads on him. He’s gonna blow us out later.”

  They rejoined the others at the bar. Sylvia was now sitting square-on to the bar talking to Caroline. Tim didn’t interrupt their conversation and a few minutes passed before Caroline went to serve the men at the other end of the bar. Sylvia turned back to Tim to continue their conversation.

  “How did you get the scratches on your arm?” Sylvia asked, grabbing Tim’s arm to look at it closely and at the same time sending a ting
le through his body. He then told her about the duck.

  “I was gonna cook it tonight, but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow night.”

  “It couldn’t wait a few days, could it?” Sylvia said jokingly.

  “Do you like duck? It’s still fresh. I could freeze it and cook it when you’s get back,” Tim said.

  “That’d be great,” Sylvia said. “When do you’s hope to get back?”

  “Midday Thursday But I expect we’ll get back around dark,” Sylvia informed him.

  “I’ll brush up on my culinary techniques,” Tim said with a smile.

  The director came over to talk to Sylvia. He told her he was going back to where they were camped.

  “You may as well take the one with all the gear in it,” she almost instructed him, indicating to Tim that she had some weight among the crew. Sean left with him.

  After another three-quarters of an hour, Tim knew that they wanted to call it quits. Peter went to the toilet and Shane followed. You better watch out, Shane, Tim thought, you might get a reputation.

  “Where are you camped?” Tim asked Sylvia.

  “Down behind the big house on the corner, near the river,” she answered.

  “That’s not far. Would you like to walk?”

  “Yes. That’d be nice.”

  “I don’t want to intrude. It’s just that I rarely get a chance to talk to someone out here that hasn’t got a narrow mind. Mroody company excluded,” he added.

  Peter emerged from the toilet and Shane came out a minute later. He walked straight over to Tim and popped a joint in his pocket, away from prying eyes, though.

  The street was clearly visible under the stars and Tim told Sylvia it was a bit over a ten minute walk. The campsite appeared a hundred metres away and Tim stopped. “Well, there it is.”

  “Oh, you’re not coming down,” she said with a tone of disappointment.

  “I don’t want to be responsible for you guys waking up exhausted tomorrow. Besides, familiarity breeds contempt, they say.”