But Evie was looking at her watch and starting the engine, not paying attention.
‘I’ll drive you to your car,’ she said.
Marian struggled to suppress panic. Don’t leave me.
‘Where did you say it was? I’ll have to make tracks after that. But for goodness sake, keep in touch. I’ll see you tomorrow, eh? You’d better take my mobile. It’s in my bag there.’
‘Oh no. I couldn’t.’
‘Don’t be daft. You need to be able to contact people.’
‘But what about you?’
‘I’ve got another one. This is an old one. I threw it in because I forgot to charge the new one.’
The Astra was still sitting in the station car park. No one had broken into it or slashed the tyres. The key fitted smoothly into the lock as it had always done, as though only a few days had passed, rather than ten years.
Well it was only a few days.
There was a strange smell though. Marian wound down the window to wave goodbye to Evie. She put the key in the ignition and was about to turn it when she realised that the smell was coming from the paper bag on the dashboard.
The egg and bacon sandwich.
She opened the bag, and then wished she hadn’t. A new wave of nausea caught the back of her throat. Opening the door she dropped the bag onto the bitumen.
A woman in the next car frowned and began to roll her window down. Marian smiled weakly, got out, picked up the bag and took it over to the bin at the entrance to the station. She walked back and sat in the car with the door open until her stomach settled.
For once the ignition caught first time and she eased the car cautiously out into the stream of traffic. Peak-hour was building up, worse luck. As she came to the Kenwick Link sign the lights changed to green and the car behind her beeped. Marian was in the wrong lane to go ahead. She took the turn onto the Link.
This couldn’t be right. The road was taking her south again, away from the city.
Huge signs announced a massive freeway. Fremantle one way, airport the other. But Marian didn’t want either. Anyway it was too late to turn so she drove straight through. Sweat dampened her hairline and she squinted ahead, trying to read the signs before she got to them. The old highway. Thank goodness. Turn left.
But if she kept turning left she’d go round in a circle. Yes, sure enough, the intersection was familiar and here was the station car park again. She’d done a complete loop. Sci-fi sensations flickered in her mind and she gripped the wheel hard, battling for logic. Straight ahead. Stay off the Kenwick Link.
Sweating heavily now, she moved into the middle lane. If she stuck to the old highway, no turning off, she must end up in the city.
After what seemed like hours she saw tower blocks on the horizon, and signs for the Causeway. But her relief was short-lived. The traffic here was bumper to bumper. Riverside Drive. Avoid the city-centre altogether, she thought, and found herself driving along between the river and the playing fields where she’d been walking the day before.
Before she had time to think, the road ahead filled with huge green freeway signs. Panicked, sandwiched between cars ahead and cars behind, she stuck to the middle lane. Soon she and her escorts were swooping northward, the river falling away behind them, the city high-rise looming up on the right. A sign flashed past. Hay Street Exit.
Too late. She was in the wrong lane.
This was what she’d looked down on every night. These lines of traffic. She’d become part of it. The calm of the CWA, her little room, was up there somewhere.
Market Street Exit. She swung the wheel desperately to the left. There was a furious outbreak of beeping and she saw a man in the next car, perilously close, opening and shutting his mouth. She steered for a gap, teeth clenched. Within seconds she was off the freeway, in the relative quiet of an exit ramp. Her armpits were drenched.
From there, she followed her nose. After several false starts and backtracks she saw the CWA sign and turned into the car park. Her neck was stiff and her shoulders aching but she was pleased with herself. For the first time in days she felt capable.
That invitation from Ros for dinner tonight … she would go. Reception would have a street directory she could borrow. If Lee was there then Marian would just have to make the best of it. Nothing could be worse than what she’d already faced. Maybe Evie was right and Lee was an interesting person.
What had Ros said? Lee’s stressed about something at Uni.
Lee’s anger was more than something at Uni though.
Lee was in a war, and Marian was on the wrong side.
Ros came to the door. Her eyes were tired, but she beamed at Marian and kissed her on the cheek.
‘Thanks for coming.’
‘Thanks for asking me,’ Marian muttered. Suddenly she felt shy, arriving at a party where she didn’t know anyone.
Funny sort of party.
Ros ushered her down the hall and into the kitchen. The room was lit only by two candles. Sam emerged from the shadows near the stove and hugged Marian. They were very touchy-feely, these two, but Marian was grateful for the gesture. She looked around for Lee and caught her eye across the table. Lee nodded.
The man next to Lee was Ben. He wasn’t as young as the others, older than Charlie anyway, his short fair hair already receding. His smile was reserved, but he pulled out the chair at the end of the table and patted it, so she sat down.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t meet you on Tuesday,’ he said. ‘I had to get to work.’
‘Where do you work?’ she asked automatically, watching Sam and Ros organise the meal. That was easier than looking at Lee, who was sitting in silence, face unreadable in the candlelight, or at Ben. Lee’s partner. She tried not to think about them in bed together, the white skin and the brown skin touching.
‘I’m a nurse,’ Ben said. Marian looked at him, surprised into attentiveness, but by then Ros and Sam were sitting down at the table. Ros reached for Marian’s hand on her right and Sam’s on her left.
‘Before we eat’, she said, ‘I want to say something.’
Sam took Lee’s hand. Ben reached out to Marian and Lee so that all five of them were connected in a circle. Marian’s hands were held firmly by Ros on one side and Ben on the other. She could feel anxiety stirring in her chest. I won’t know what to say.
‘It’s been a terrible week for all of us,’ Ros said. ‘We’d really like to try and turn the energy around. Can we have a few minutes silence? Just letting the bad feelings go and making a space for peace?’
Ben and Sam nodded seriously. Marian resisted the urge to wriggle.
The others sat in silence with their eyes shut.
Marian closed her eyes, breathed slowly and hoped that Ben and Ros couldn’t feel her palms sweating.
Ros began a low humming noise and Sam joined in.
Oh God! Was she supposed to do it too?
Marian’s eyes sprang open. And there across the table was Lee, watching her.
Lee thought she was a phony.
Marian blushed hotly and frowned.
But there was another possibility. She saw that the younger woman’s mouth was clenched, that Lee was embarrassed too.
It was a cheering thought. Marian grinned and after a moment Lee gave her a tight smile and then winked.
Marian sat up straight and closed her eyes again, feeling the tension drain out of her neck. The humming was beautiful really. If you relaxed into it you could feel it reverberating in your bones.
She lost any sense of time and was surprised when Ros squeezed her hand. The others were stretching, eyes soft. Even Lee looked relaxed.
Sam and Ros brought bowls of food to the table and sat down again, reaching to restore the circle of hands. But this time Marian was unafraid, floating still on the high of the humming.
‘Thanks to the Earth for this good food,’ Ros said.
That seemed to be that. No mention of God. Ros released Marian’s hand and picked up a pair of chopsticks.
Marian picked up the two pointed sticks and stared at them. But not even that was a problem. ‘Would you rather have a fork?’ Ros asked and passed her one from the bench.
The food smelt good, rice and vegetables of some sort. But as soon as it was in Marian’s mouth, her hunger disappeared. She managed to swallow the first mouthful, a bit at a time then pushed the rest around her bowl and hoped that no one would notice.
The others ate in a companionable silence, broken finally by Ros.
‘Have you seen Charlie?’ she asked Marian.
‘Yes. I went today.’
There was a pause, as though they were waiting for some sort of report. Suddenly they stopped looking like friends. Why hadn’t they been to see him themselves?
Ros leaned forward smiling and the moment passed. ‘Sam and I are going next week. I rang to get the address and they said he could have letters so I wrote to him today. But he might not get it till Monday.’
The photo.
‘That reminds me,’ Marian said, ‘There’s a photo in his room. Would you mind if I took it for him?’
‘Of course not.’
‘I notice he’s got my old Bible too. Do you know if he’s been going to church or something?’
‘Oh no,’ Ros said. ‘I shouldn’t think so. What do you reckon, Lee?’
‘No way,’ Lee said. ‘Sorry Mrs Anditon, Marian, but I don’t think there’s any hope there. Not for Charlie.’
Now she thought Marian was a God botherer. Marian opened her mouth to explain but was interrupted by Sam, who was still thinking about the prison.
‘Is it horrible, the place?’
Marian tried to think. Was it horrible? It already seemed like a long time ago. ‘There’s razor wire and guards. It’s hard … perhaps he’ll talk to you more easily.’ She brought that out with an effort, picturing them all sitting at the table, relaxed, like the woman today who’d laughed with her spider-tattoo son.
They knew Charlie better than she did.
‘Lee’ll visit once her presentation’s out of the way, won’t you Lee?’ Sam said. ‘How’s it going?’
‘I’ve finished,’ Lee said. ‘Just needs tidying up.’
‘What’s it about?’ Marian heard herself asking, against her better judgment.
‘Racism,’ Lee said.
‘Oh.’ It would be.
Ben grinned at Lee. ‘Maybe you could narrow it down a bit?’
‘Early contact in this state. The sort of stuff we were talking about the other day. Marian doesn’t agree,’ she said to Ben, dismissively.
Ben looked at Marian, questioning.
‘I was upset the other day,’ Marian said. She racked her brains for something to ask. Something relevant. ‘You said about your grandmother and the school.’
‘Tolgerup School? Yeah.’
‘What happened?’
‘Fight of Granny’s,’ Lee said. ‘She wanted her kids to go to the school. Mum had already left town, but that made Granny even more determined that the others would have a chance. The school didn’t want them so Granny sat down outside the principal’s office till he agreed to see her. The whole business scared the shit out of my Aunty. She was only ten and she thought there’d be payback. Big on payback, you wadjela.’
Marian moved uncomfortably.
‘In the end she won, my Granny,’ Lee said. ‘She was a hero.’
‘When was this?’
‘Oh, seventies, I guess. Before they closed the Reserve.’
‘But wasn’t it …’ She remembered what Evie had said. ‘There’d been that Referendum and everything. Surely the kids could go to school if they wanted?’
‘Oh come on! You live in that town don’t you? Do your shopping there, anyway. You think a bit of government paper from Canberra or some what-the-hell over-east place is going to make any difference in a town like that? The only thing that makes any difference is people like my Granny putting their whole bodies on the line and refusing to budge.’
Marian did not want to hear. All the shrill voices of her life combined to drown Lee out. The jokes, the news items, the self-righteous gossip. They’re just bludgers. Too lazy and shiftless to go to school.
She dragged herself back. There was something here that she had to understand. ‘I’ve never thought …’
‘No. You don’t have to, do you?’
‘I’m sorry …’ Useless words.
When she saw Noongars in town she assumed they belonged to some other world. Not us. She did remember talk about the Reserve kids at the school but she’d thought it was about stealing, that the kids had been expelled for stealing.
Was it true or was it just an excuse?
Maybe that’s what we do, she thought. Convince ourselves we’re in the right, find a reason why it’s their fault.
In the seventies Marian was new in town, trying to fit in, marrying Mac and moving out to the farm. People were kind to her. The neighbours brought cakes and welcome messages. They were good people. But there she paused. Good to her. How good were they to anyone they saw as different, like the blacks on the Reserve?
‘I didn’t know what was going on, with the Reserve and all that.’
‘Yeah, well. It was a long time ago. So they say.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Five million sorrys won’t help. You want forgiveness? The trouble is, you always do want something. You got our land, our kids, our lives. Now you want forgiveness as well. That’s ironic, eh? That’s how oppression works. First you get oppressed, then you have to help the oppressors feel better about their guilt.’
Marian could feel hot anger creeping up the back of her neck.
‘Please don’t be angry tonight,’ Ros said.
Marian looked up, but Ros was speaking to Lee.
‘I’m not angry,’ Lee said. ‘This is nothing. Being angry is a trap.’
‘Charlie was angry,’ Sam said sadly.
‘Picking fights,’ Lee said. ‘We don’t need supporters like that. That way we still get beaten up, but the guys who do it can call it self-defence.’
‘Give us a break, Lee,’ Ben said. ‘What are we supposed to do?’
‘Just listen,’ Lee said. ‘It’s time wadjela shut up and listen for a change.’
What if we don’t want to know?
Sam turned to Marian. ‘You could come tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Lee’s a great speaker.’
‘You’re welcome to come, if you want the full works.’ Lee said to Marian in a quieter voice.
‘Will you still be here?’ Sam asked. ‘We’re all going.’
‘Yes. But I’m seeing a friend.’
‘Bring them too,’ said Ros. ‘That’s okay isn’t it Lee?’
‘The more the merrier,’ Lee said. Marian glanced at her. Was she being sarcastic?
‘Maybe it will help?’ Sam offered. ‘Help you get a picture of Charlie?’
Charlie. What did all this have to do with Charlie?
‘You’d see the Uni anyway,’ Ros said. ‘I know he dropped out, but it was still important to him. He hadn’t really got it out of his system. He was still …’
‘Reacting,’ said Ben.
‘Yeah. Reacting.’
‘It’s something that happens with these young guys,’ Lee said.
‘Why should it be any different for guys?’ Sam asked. ‘What’s their problem?’
‘Testosterone,’ Lee said.
Ben snorted and stood up. ‘Looks like I’m washing up then.’
‘It’s not that,’ Ros said. ‘It’s seeing too much that doesn’t make sense and not having anywhere to go with it. I can understand it.’
Sam was stacking plates. Ben and Ros got up to help her with the dishes.
Lee spoke across the table and then moved round onto the chair next to Marian.
‘I was thinking what my Aunty Rene, Granny’s sister, would say to you. I admire her a lot. She doesn’t lose her temper, but she doesn’t give in either. She works with young men and she’s got a
few stories to tell. Maybe you’ll meet her. You could learn things.’
‘Oh yes,’ Marian said cautiously. Did she need any more people to challenge her?
‘I brought your article back,’ she said, fishing in her bag.
‘Where did you get that?’
‘Sam lent it to me.’
‘Oh Sam, she would.’ But Lee didn’t seem angry. ‘Did you read it?’
‘Most of it,’ Marian said cautiously, wondering whether she could get up and help with the washing-up.
‘Listen, Marian. I know I go on a bit, but I figure I have to understand this thing with Charlie. And you’re his mother, so it’s worth the effort.’
Effort? Marian half-pushed her chair back but Lee laughed and put out a hand.
‘Sorry, wrong word. But it is an effort sometimes. I get tired. Indigenous people have to put up with a lot of weird behaviour from whitefellas, you know. People wanting us to save their souls, help them find redemption.’
‘Redemption?’
‘Sure. That’s what whitefellas want isn’t it? Who better to save you from yourselves than us blackfellas with our special spiritual insight?’
Lee’s face was mocking again, and Marian was relieved when the other three came back to the table with cups of tea, talking about the lemon tree in the backyard and whether it needed more water.
Lee leant closer to Marian. ‘I mean it though Marian. I care about Charlie and you’re his Mum. I hope you can come tomorrow.’
Marian nodded, but she’d had enough, still had the drive back to the CWA.
She turned to Ros. ‘I’d better get going.’
There was a message under her door. Please ring Evie.
Marian got out her glasses and the mobile phone and studied it. The green button produced a dial tone when she held the phone to her ear. Success. She scrabbled in her bag for Evie’s home number, and keyed it in, then juggled it back to her ear. She heard Evie’s familiar voice.
‘Hi Marian.’
Marian held the phone away from her, then put it close to her mouth.
‘How did you know it was me?’
‘Magic. I’ll show you some time. Did you get back all right?’
‘This afternoon? Yes thanks. No worries.’ She’d forgotten her panic on the freeway. ‘Evie? Thanks for lunch and everything. It makes such a difference.’
The First Week Page 13
