Jack & Harry

by Tony McKenna

  With ‘blueys’ slung over their shoulders they stepped from the train onto the platform at Kalgoorlie for the second time in six months and dodged people milling around them hauling large suitcases, and groups hugging and greeting each other. They noticed the two sisters leave the train, heading for the cafeteria and were thankful that they were obscured from view by throngs of people as they searched for Father O’Malley.

  The priest couldn’t believe it. His old black Chev, running like a clock when he’d left the presbytery heading for the railway station, had begun to misfire after travelling a few hundred yards. It had stalled at an intersection and a motorist behind him had started honking impatiently and Father O’Malley could hear the colourful language the driver hurled at the stranded vehicle blocking the road. Stepping from the car the priest was smugly pleased when, noticing his clerical garb, the man left his vehicle with the engine running and walked up to the Chev. ‘Can I help you, Father? The man sheepishly asked.

  ‘I’ve got to meet the train to pick two friends up and my old car is being temperamental again.’ He gave the Chev a withering look as if it could understand him. ‘I’m going to be late now I’m afraid.’

  The man considered the situation for a moment. ‘Let’s push her out the way, Father. ‘I’m heading that way so, if you like, I’ll take you to meet your friends and give you all a lift back.’

  ‘But it’d be taking up too much of your time, you seemed to be in a bit of a hurry.’ Father O’Malley couldn’t help taking a snipe at the man’s previous impatience.

  What? Oh yeah … sorry. It’s no trouble really. I’d be glad to help out,’ He replied guiltily.

  With little choice, the priest readily agreed. Thanking the man profusely he got into the passenger seat and the driver sped off toward the station, the priest noticing that a number of cars were passing them from that direction. He was concerned that Jack and Harry would be getting anxious, being two small boys arriving at a strange destination with nobody to meet them. He left the man to park his vehicle and hurried onto the station as he heard the train pull out for Perth. The platform was now almost deserted except for some railway employees and a smattering of straggling passengers. Jack and Harry were nowhere to be seen.

  Worried now and muttering under his breath, blaming the old Chev abandoned in the street, he walked the length of the platform checking small alcoves and even went into the men’s room in case they were there. Deciding to check the canteen he found it almost empty except for three ladies seated at a table and, by their dress and demeanour, two young stockmen leafing through a rack of magazines. He almost walked out before he realised it was Jack and Harry. He stood shaking his head in disbelief as he had been expecting two kids like the ones he’d left at Mt Margaret Mission and instead he was meeting two people he almost mistook for grown men.

  ‘My goodness, just take a look at you two!’ He was beaming as he went to them.

  Recognising the rich brogue, the boys spun around to see the tall stooped figure of Father O’Malley, his arms wide in greeting, swooping toward them across the polished lino of the canteen watched by three curious ladies sipping tea at one of the tables.

  The boys stood stiffly; slightly embarrassed by the pipe tobacco and cologne hug they received from a delighted Father O’Malley. Recognising their unease, the embrace was brief and the priest stood back to look at them. ‘I declare that you’ve grown a couple of inches at least or maybe it’s the hats that make you look so tall.’ He shook his head in wonder. ‘Come on then, the old Chevvie is broken down and a kind man is giving us a lift. Better not keep him waiting.’

  They all piled into the man’s car and he drove them to where the black saloon was parked. ‘Do you think we can get her started?’ he asked the priest as they pulled up behind it.

  ‘There’s a chance, yes,’ Father O’Malley said. ‘Perhaps if you lads give her a push she just might start.’

  The roadway was level and, although the vehicle was heavy, with the stranger helping them they easily got the car rolling and laughed when the priest let out the clutch and the motor backfired before starting, enveloping them in a cloud of smoke. Letting the motor idle, the priest stepped out and thanked the man for his assistance and the boys transferred their belongings into the Chev.

  ‘I think you should take her to a garage and get her checked over. Do you know a good mechanic?’ the stranger asked.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t. Been a little while since I had her serviced,’ the priest said sheepishly.

  ‘Hmm, I can tell. Look, I’ve got a mate that owns a workshop not far from here. Follow me and we’ll see if he can take a look at her. He’s very good and because he knows me, and you being a man of the cloth, I’m sure he won’t overcharge you.’

  ‘Well … I don’t know, it could be a bit of work that she’s needing I’m afraid.’

  ‘You can’t keep driving it like it is, Father. At least get an idea what’s wrong; might be something simple.’ the stranger urged. ‘I can run you home if he has to keep it for while.’

  ‘Well …’ Father O’Malley stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps it won’t hurt. You’re most kind.’

  The mechanic lifted the bonnet, checked a couple of things and listened closely to the misfiring motor. ‘Could be a coupla things. Spark, maybe, and it’s in dire need of a tune as that carbie’s pourin’ fuel out …’ he tapped it with a screwdriver ‘… and there’s oil everywhere … probably needs a coupla gaskets. When was the last time you had her serviced, Father?’

  ‘Well … I can’t quite remember that now … last year sometime I believe. I changed the oil myself and cleaned the spark plugs too, couple of things like that.’

  The man lifted his eyebrows. ‘You need a proper service then, Father, and a couple of replacement bits and pieces. Those tyres are nearly down to the rims too.’ He kicked the front wheel.’

  ‘I can’t be affording new tyres I’m afraid, on top of everything else.’ Father O’Malley looked concerned. ‘How much will the tune up be then?’

  ‘Hard to say off hand. Depends on what bits I need to put in but I’ll do it as cheaply as I can for you seeing you’re a friend of Sam here.’ He indicated the stranger.

  The priest continued to procrastinate about leaving his car at the garage. ‘Lovely car isn’t she?’ the man said giving the Chev a pat on the hood. ‘Don’t make ’em like this any more. Solid as a rock and once she’s runnin’ sweet again she’ll be right for another twenty thousand miles or more I reckon.’ Father O’Malley basked in the praise of his car and agreed immediately to let the man work on it.

  The priest gave the man his telephone number, instructing him not to do anything major unless he called first, and they walked out to Sam’s car.

  ‘Can you hang on a minute, sorry?’ Jack said as they got in. ‘I left somethin’ in your car, Father, won’t be a second.’ He ran back into the garage and walked quickly up to the mechanic. ‘Excuse me, I’d like you to do whatever work needs to be done on this car. Also put a set of tyres on it and anythin’ else you feel’s necessary.’

  The man wiped his hands on a rag and grinned, ‘Yeah, sure son, and how’re you goin’ to pay for all of that?’

  ‘With this.’ Jack pulled a roll of notes from his shirt pocket, watching the man’s eyes widen in surprise. ‘Do you want me to leave you a deposit now?

  ‘Er … that won’t be necessary, no.’ The mechanic was chastened, ‘It’s the weekend and we don’t usually work but if you’re prepared to pay a bit of overtime I’ll get a couple of the boys to start on her straight away. Probably won’t be ready until tomorrow, though. We’ll work into the night.’

  ‘The cost’s no problem. See ya then.’ Jack returned to the others and jumped in the car.

  ‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ the priest asked.

  ‘Yep, everythin’s OK. Sorry to hold ya up.’

  They spent the evening that night after dinner, seated in the cane chairs on the pre
sbytery verandah, where they enthralled Father O’Malley with tales of their trip after leaving Mt Margaret and filled in the gaps between the letters they had written. He interrupted often with many questions, particularly about Coober Pedy and opal mining. Pipe smoke swirling around his head he chuckled when they described the bar room brawl in Marree and he sat forward captivated as they relayed the events that led up to the cave-in and Bruno’s rescue.

  He was thrilled with the present Paddy had sent, savouring the whisky as they talked, and, when he opened the envelope after the boys passed on Paddy’s message about ‘the plate’, he sat staring at the money it contained. He then asked a number of questions about his friend, particularly interested when Jack let it slip that he seemed to have more than a passing interest in Iris Smith and that he seemed to be less interested in ‘the doins’ than he had before.

  They then told him about meeting the girls on the train and about the coincidence that they went to school with Iris’s daughter.

  ‘Harry thought she looked pretty good didn’t ya, Harry?’ Jack thought he’d have a little fun at Harry’s expense but failed to anticipate the response.

  ‘I didn’t go all googly-eyed like you did over Naomi Wilson,’ Harry shot back.

  ‘Hmm, a girl you’re keen on up at Coober Pedy, is there, Jack?’

  ‘Not in Coober, Father,’ Harry said. ‘The police sergeant’s daughter in Pt Augusta.’

  Jack turned bright red. ‘We just happen to like shootin’ that’s all,’ he snapped at Harry.

  ‘Shooting indeed.’ The priest raised his eyebrows. ‘An unusual pursuit for a girl I must say. You told me you got a rifle for Christmas in one of your letters. I was a little worried about that.’

  Jack, pleased to be presented with a diversion, described his rifle and the shooting he had done to keep the drovers supplied with fresh meat, glaring at Harry as he did so.

  They talked about many things that night but said little about their claim and the gems they had dug from it, unconsciously guarding their activities, even from a close friend, like any other ‘Cooberite’ would do when it came to opal. Father O’Malley politely didn’t question them on how much they had found or what it was worth, knowing from his experiences with the miners of the Goldfields that this was a taboo subject. He sensed that Jack and Harry, even after only such a short time, had absorbed the culture with its secrecy and respect for another man’s business.

  ‘Reynold is still with you then; that’s marvellous. I knew he was a good lad and that you’d get along. It’s good that you’ve included him, as not many young men would have, you know. It’ll be many years before the gap between black and white is bridged, unfortunately,’ he said sadly. ‘It’ll take a lot of effort by both sides to build the trust.’

  ‘If it wasn’t for Reynold and uncle Warri we’d have probably got lost somewhere out in the scrub. They made us feel a part of their family and taught us so much,’ Harry commented.

  ‘It was uncle Warri that saved Harry’s life when he was lost in the desert and he also treated him with bush medicine to make him better. He taught me bushcraft and trackin’ and how to shoot.’

  The priest couldn’t help but notice the respect these two boys had for their Aboriginal friends and it gladdened his heart to think there could be some hope for future generations to put aside the misunderstandings.

  ‘That reminds me.’ Father O’Malley lit his pipe. ‘I heard that your uncle Warri’s back in Warburton and as fit as ever after being in hospital for a while.’

  ‘No doubt he ‘learned’ all those doctors everything they knew.’ The two boys laughed at Jack’s joke but the priest looked on, baffled by the comment.

  They made a pot of tea for themselves and nibbled on Mrs Lacey’s Anzac biscuits for a time then Father O’Malley poured a final nip of whisky into the tumbler ‘A nightcap, lads, before I turn in. You must be getting tired as well.’

  ‘I’m a little weary, Father.’ Harry yawned.

  When the priest stood and placed the remainder of Paddy’s present on the mantelpiece saying, ‘you’re an incorrigible rogue you are, but you’ve a heart of gold,’ to his absent friend, the two boys gathered up the teapot, cups and plate to take to the kitchen. ‘Father,’ Jack said, ‘we really want to thank you for believin’ in us and for bein’ such a good friend.’

  ‘Aahh think nothing of it, lads, it does me good to see you in such good health. The life certainly seems to suit you. I hardly recognised you today at the station and I just hope that your parents forgive me for my deceit.’

  ‘We got a present for you too, Father, but you’ll have to wait till tomorrow for it.’ Jack said.

  ‘There’s no need to be giving me anything now. It’s a pleasure it is to be helping you.’ The priest nonetheless was a little curious about what the boys could be giving him that would have to wait until tomorrow.

  ‘I hope me old car’s all right down there in that garage,’ Father O’Malley said as they walked down the corridor to the kitchen. ‘She’s never been away from home before.’

  Harry looked at Jack and they wondered if he suspected anything but then dismissed the thought.

  ‘I was hoping she’d hold together for a while longer because I was planning to drive you two down to Perth and meet your parents and explain how I was involved in all of the goings on over the past months.’ He looked at the boys. ‘That is, if you want me to?’

  ‘Gee, that’d be great. We’ve been a bit nervous about explaining things to them and you being with us would help a lot. We were gonna ask you to come with us on the train but thought you might be too busy. I want to get home for my birthday on Monday.

  ‘Well, Jack, if the mechanic can keep the old girl going we’ll do that. Have to wait and see. I hope he can fix her enough to drive to Perth, otherwise we will have to take the train.’

  ‘I’ve got a feeling …’ Jack put the dirty cups in the sink and turned the tap on, ‘… that she’ll be as good as new when we pick her up tomorra.’ The priest missed the wink he gave Harry.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Father O’Malley was busy conducting mass on the Sunday morning and even though he invited the boys to go along to the service they declined and waited until he was well gone before they asked Mrs Lacey if they could use the telephone.

  ‘Well, I don’t know.’ She hesitated to give permission, fiercely protecting Father O’Malley and his domain ‘Where are you calling?’

  Jack explained that they were going to pay for the repairs to the car and wanted to call the garage but not to tell Father O’Malley as it was a surprise. ‘My goodness,’ was all she said but she nodded approval and pointed to the telephone.

  Jack spoke to the mechanic who told him that he had replaced the distributor and spark plugs, overhauled the carburettor and adjusted the timing. He said he’d also replaced the fan belt, put some new gaskets on the sump and gearbox, given the car a grease and oil change and put four new tyres on. ‘It drives like a new car.’ He seemed well pleased with the results of his work.

  ‘Would it be OK to drive to Perth?’

  ‘Drive around Australia if you wanted to.’

  Jack asked that, if he and Harry walked to the workshop and paid for the repairs; would the man drive them back to the presbytery, as they wanted to surprise the priest. ‘The work on his car is a present.’

  ‘It’s come to a few quid, son,’ the man said.

  Jack didn’t comment on the cost. ‘We’ll be around in about half an hour. Will it be ready then?’

  Father O’Malley looked at his pocket watch and frowned. He had completed mass for the morning and was surprised that the boys were not in the presbytery when he returned. ‘Have they been gone long? He asked his housekeeper when she told him they had gone off and would be back soon.

  ‘Not long.’ She was intent on avoiding saying too much.

  ‘Where did they say they were going?’

  ‘Going? … Oh, I’m not sure … they didn’t reall
y say. You see they …’ Mrs Lacey sighed in relief when Harry burst into the room. ‘Your car’s back, Father,’ he said breathlessly.

  ‘Back? What do you mean by back, Harry?’

  ‘In the shed. The man drove it round earlier.’

  ‘I don’t understand. It’s a Sunday. They don’t usually work on Sunday and what about the bill? Did he say anything about the bill?’

  Harry shook his head, finding it difficult to keep a straight face. ‘Dunno, but it’s parked in the shed.’

  He followed the priest out the door but held back, allowing him to reach the shed alone. Jack joined Harry and they sneaked closer, waiting outside the double doors. They heard Father O’Malley muttering to himself as he got into the car and pressed the starter. The motor sprang into instant life, no backfire, no smoke and no shuddering. Father O’Malley backed the vehicle from the shed a smile creasing his face when he saw the boys standing by the open doors. ‘Now … this is what she used to be like, perfect.’ They saw him pat the dashboard. ‘Coming for a test spin, lads? Hop in. I’ve got to go round to the garage and fix up the bill. Very good of that fellow to deliver it … amazing.’ He wore a puzzled expression.

  ‘We’ve already been for a test spin, Father.’

  ‘What do you mean, Jack?’

  ‘In the car. We were with him when he brought it round.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Father O’Malley left the motor ticking over and stepped from the vehicle. He then noticed the new tyres and his face went a shade of green. ‘Oh my Lord. He was supposed to call me before he …’

  Jack waved the receipt at him. ‘It’s all been taken care of, Father.’ He reached out and put his arm around Harry’s shoulder. ‘Our way of sayin’ thanks.’ They handed him the receipt marked ‘paid in full’.

  Naomi Wilson badgered her father. ‘Can we go up and visit Ron Carter one of these days, Dad?’