‘I’m thinkin’ if you go and take another piece of that slice, I’m gonna belt you over the head with that teapot, you know it won’t be long until dinner, now lay off the sweet stuff.’
Pop tried to look like he was in control. ‘Well, I believe I don’t really need another piece of your uppity vanilla slice anyway.’ And with that, Pop walked out to the TV room where he picked up his cowboy book, sat down and started to read.
Mrs M looked from Nan back to Pop back to Nan again. She always enjoyed their bickering.
‘So would you go back to Tassie for another holiday?’ asked Nan, checking how much tea was left in the pot.
‘Yes, Tilly, I would, but only in the summer months, it’s just too cold otherwise. I wouldn’t mind going around Christmas.’
‘Oh, you just reminded me,’ said Nan, standing up and looking through a pile of paperwork next to the bread tin. ‘I got this invitation the other day, it’s for me and a friend, an eat-and-greet lunch. Why don’t you come with me, Mrs M, we’ll have a lovely time and we won’t have to cook, what do you think?’
‘When is it, Tilly?’ asked Mrs M.
‘It’s next Friday at eleven o’clock.’
‘Sounds lovely, as long as we’ve finished by about four-fifteen, I need to be at the dentist by four-thirty.’
‘The dentist?’ said Nan.
‘Yes, didn’t I tell you? When I was in Hobart I bought a packet of hard-boiled lollies. I popped one in my mouth, sort of bit down and next thing I know I have a broken tooth. It doesn’t hurt but it does feel awful. Thank goodness it’s not a front one.’
Nan and I looked at each other.
‘What type of lolly did you eat, Mrs M?’ I asked, not sure if I really wanted to know.
‘Barley sugar, Fuzzy, it was a homemade barley sugar.’
Nan continued looking smug while I breathed in, and stroked my arms where thousands of little hairs insisted on standing on end. Mrs M had no idea what was happening around her, probably a good thing.
About a week later I woke up and made my way into the kitchen where Nan was busy making porridge. Normally Pop would be sitting at the table reading the paper, waiting for his cereal to cook. Today Pop was nowhere to be seen.
‘Where is Pop, Nan?’
‘He’s still in bed, Fuzzy, not good today.’
‘What’s the matter with him, Nan?’
‘Looks like that middle ear infection I’ve been waitin’ for, that’s all. Once the doctor opens I’ll make an appointment and he can get some antibiotics.’
I was still standing in some sort of in-between state of shock. I couldn’t believe Nan had done it again, most of her predictions had come true. I sat in the wooden chair at the kitchen table and felt a funny type of numbness in my chest. Nan finished stirring while humming along to something on the radio.
After coming home from school that afternoon, I met Pop in the kitchen, looking a little worse for wear. He was just about to head back to bed for some rest, not before telling me that the doctor said his left ear looked very angry, and wrote a prescription for antibiotics which would help to clear up any infection. Still a little rattled, I helped Pop back to bed where he quickly snuggled in. I kissed his big fuzzy brown forehead, placed a glass of water on his bedside table then walked through the house, down the back stairs and out to the garden where Nan was busy pruning her roses. Puss lay on the dirt next to Nan’s feet, both happy and content in each other’s company. Knowing Nan, she would be having many conversations with all of the little pretty, scented faces around her.
‘Is that you, Fuzzy?’
‘Yep, Nan. Roses are looking good.’ I bent down to pat Puss.
‘A penny for your thoughts, Fuzzy.’
I looked up at Nan, eager to clear my congested head. ‘Do you ever worry about what you see, when you are shown things that may happen, Nan?’ I looked down again to pat Puss and wait for an answer. Nan continued pruning, taking her time. Puss pushed herself up towards my hand looking for some affection.
‘Fuzzy, does worryin’ help a problem? Does any amount of worryin’ make things better?’
‘No I don’t think it does, Nan.’ I sat on the grass close to where she was working.
‘Well then, it’s simple, isn’t it? You don’t worry because it does no good except make you feel sick. Always, always, Grace be beside you, and never you forget it.
‘Now child, go find me the wheelbarrow and we’ll put these cuttin’s away. They can go off to Pop’s compost. We’ll feed ’em to them precious worms of his. Poor bastards will be shittin’ thorns for the next three weeks, they will.’ We both laughed.
By the following Monday Pop was up and about, pain-free and happy. We were all happy to see him back to normal. As winter had well and truly started, the outside temperature in our little town was pretty cold. Not only did it feel cold, it looked cold. If we happened to travel down Adams Street and past the slaughter yards you could see sheep skins thrown across the wooden fence. There were heaps of them there, maybe even a hundred. Icicles formed on the skins like big drips falling from the matted piece of wool. When I was younger I always thought it looked magical. Dad used to say that usually by winter, the sheep had worn out their summer coat. Then they travelled by road train to this part of town where they would have their old coat surgically removed by caring, intelligent men who were very happy to help one of God’s creatures. Once the coat was removed another recycled model from the previous year was fitted to the naked sheep, which was then loaded back onto the road train and transported home to greener pastures. And I believed him. Yep, totally gullible I was. Halfway through my tenth year I worked it all out, and I wasn’t impressed either.
Tui
It’s Saturday and I agree with Nan and Pop, the best time of the day is early in the morning.
While eating breakfast I think about my friend Tui and a boy named Jessie Tamarai. Two weeks ago, Jessie started hanging around us more often than before. Every time he is close to Tui, the lad goes all shame and gooey. One minute he has trouble looking her in the eye, the next he’s staring. Not that any of this really bothers me; it’s just different, that’s all, and it’s changed things.
Jessie is a good-looking guy. He has brown hair and an olive complexion the same as Tui. Jess has ancestors from Fiji and Tui’s are Maori. Both love music but only Tui has the confidence to sing in front of people. Jessie can sing but he’s too shy. He is also a freaky soccer player and is mad on a skateboard. His sense of balance is awesome.
I reach for Nan’s marmalade. The phone rings but I don’t move because I know Nan is much closer to it. She’s sitting in the sunroom, mending one of Pop’s shirts.
‘Fuzzy,’ Nan yells.
‘Yeah, Nan.’
‘Phone … it’s Tui Mui.’
I stop spreading marmalade on my toast and go to Nan who hands me the phone. Nan smiles, then leaves the room.
‘Kia ora Miss Tui,’ I say, placing one of Aunt Nell’s hand-knitted blankets over my knees.
‘Kia ora Fuzzy.’
‘What you doin’?’
‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘Go on then, what did you do?’
‘How do you know I did something?’
‘Just guessed.’
‘Is Nan T around?’
‘Nah, she’s left … What’s going on?’
‘Well, you know Jessie?’
‘You know I know Jessie.’
‘We met at his place after school yesterday.’
‘And …’
‘And his parents were shopping in Albury because they have visitors coming over the holidays.’
‘And . . .’
‘And, he made us both hot chocolate … and we talked about school and soccer and songs … because … you know how we both love Stevie Wonder and stuff?’
I’ve heard enough. Tui never says the word, stuff … never. And she sounds almost vague. Tui doesn’t do vague. Something big has happened, I kno
w it.
‘OK, Tui, strange things are going through my head at the moment. What other stuff did you get up to … or is it better I don’t know?’
The words shoot out of her mouth in pure song. ‘We kissed, Fuzzy.’ She sounds lovesick. Sweet Mary and Joseph strike me down. Tui is in love.
‘OK, so you kissed. Thousands of people, actually millions of people kiss every day. I assure you, it’s not life threatening.’
I can hear her giggling on the other end of the line.
‘So did you turn purple?’ I continue to say.
‘Of course I didn’t.’
‘Did your hair go curly or did you lose your voice?’ I say enjoying the torment.
‘No … but I did lose something else.’
I hear her stifle a breath. We are both quiet. As soon as she said it, I knew.
‘Fuzzy, are you there?’
‘Bloody hell, Tui, what did you do?’
‘I did it.’ She says confidently.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m talking to you, aren’t I?’
‘Yeah, but did it hurt?’
‘A bit …’
‘Did you enjoy it?’
‘Um … it wasn’t like the movies.’
‘Yeah, but did you enjoy it?’
‘It was quick.’
‘Quick?’
‘I don’t think I enjoyed it as much as Jessie did.’
‘Oh …’
‘It was a bit rushed.’
‘Sorry, but I’m not hearing joy Tui.’
‘Yeah, I’m still happy, but … well, after talking to you now I realise, the pure euphoria I was expecting, it didn’t happen. Not for me anyway.’
‘No bloody wonder.’
‘What?’
‘Well don’t forget the poor bugger was on a time limit. His mum and dad could walk into the house any tick of the clock. Poor bugger would have gone ten to the dozen trying to get it over and done with before he got busted.’
‘Whose side are you on?’
‘Yours, but I’m just trying to put it into perspective.’
‘Yeah OK, point taken.’
‘Anyway, don’t worry, Nan says it’s a no show for the ladies the first time. After that things get better … so she says anyway.’
‘Well, I don’t think there will be a next time. I got nothing out of the maiden run, why do it again? The kissing part is cool, but the hot and sweaty, tumbling around the sheets game was a total waste of time … I think. It’s all a bit overrated if you ask me.’
‘Well, I guess I’m not much help, because as you know I’m still pure … and sweet,’ I say trying to lighten the mood.
‘Yeah, yeah sista, how on earth could I possibly forget?’
‘So, what now?’ ‘So now, I’ve decided I’m going to wait until I’m older. And I’m going to try again with someone who actually knows what they are doing, someone accomplished, someone mature. That’s the plan.’
‘Was he protected?’
‘Of cause he was, you know me. I can’t look after myself, let alone a baby. And Dad would go off his nut. He’d chase Jessie down and rip the poor bugger in half.’
I had to agree. In his younger days, Tui’s dad played rugby league for New Zealand. He was a massive man, he still is.
‘Hey Fuzzy, I have to go, I can hear Mum. We’ll catch up after your trip, eh?’
‘You going now?’
‘Yeah, Mum’s coming. We’re going up to Batlow to visit Aunty Pie and the family.’
‘OK, I still can’t believe it.’
‘I know, me too. You just remember, it’s not all show days and fairy floss. See ya, Fuzzy.’
‘See ya, Tui Mui.’
The nickname Pop had given Tui as a young girl in first grade suddenly felt totally out of place.
Family Catch Up
When it’s winter, that’s when Pop gets the car serviced to go north and visit family up in Queensland. The further north we go the better. Last year we went for a big visit-the-family holiday. Pop has three sisters up on the Sunshine Coast – Aunt Terese and Aunt Cissy both live in a little town called Eumundi, famous for its markets, and Aunt Leena, she lives in Nambour. Pop also has two brothers living further up the coast, Uncle Joseph in Bundaberg and Uncle Moses in Cairns. They all get on well but unfortunately we don’t get to see them very often.
We start from the Riverina and drop in on relos all the way up to the top. We visit Aunt Bess, Uncle Roy and cousins in Narrandera, Aunt Rose, Aunt Marnie and Uncle Bruce in Cowra. We catch up with cousins in Mildura and Broken Hill. We call in on funny Uncle Booie and his aviary of birds in Moree, Uncle Ray and cousins in Brisbane before stopping in at Eumundi for a few days.
After that we travel up the coast to cousins Rocko, Melba and Stella in Maryborough along with great Uncle Billy. Next is Bundaberg, Rocky to see Old Uncle Tully, Mackay and mad Uncle Jupe and cousins in Mount Isa. The final leg includes Innisfail and Cairns. It can take us a whole month and we have an absolute ball. It’s great catching up with family outside the usual sombre funeral get-togethers. We even made it to Great Uncle Billy’s ninetieth birthday in Maryborough. You won’t believe it but he still wanders about the garden doing things as if he’s still in his seventies.
Great Uncle Billy, he can make the best pumpkin scones you ever tasted, even better than Nan’s, but don’t go telling her. His sight isn’t too good these days, but he chooses not to go and get things fixed.
‘If I go into ’ospital and get things fixed, well I could come ’ome after and drop dead the next day of old age, wear and tear. It’s a waste of me effort and me money,’ he says as he slowly chews on a bit of licorice, a favourite treat. Poor old Uncle doesn’t have many teeth, only three on the top at the front and a couple more on the bottom was all I could see last time we were visiting. It doesn’t seem to bother him though, he always smiles, has plenty of jokes to tell and can still sing along to Slim and Smokey Dawson. I gave him a listen of my iPod when we were there and you should have seen his dear old face light up when I turned it on. He couldn’t believe there were over five hundred songs in it. He picked it up and turned it over and over looking to see how they all fit.
‘Uncle, I can put all of your music on one of these things and then you could listen to it whenever you like, wherever you like. We could even plug it into speakers and you could have a party and invite your old mates around for sing sing.’
‘Do you reckon we could?’ he sings out real excited. He leans over and winks, ‘Maybe we should go out this afternoon for a look-see. Maybe the shops got one?’
‘A deadly idea, Uncle.’
‘Yeah, deadly alright,’
That afternoon we drove to the local shopping centre but they didn’t have what we wanted. Pop, Nan and I arranged to find one further up the coast, then on our way back down we could drop it in to him and have another stay overnight. Old Uncle was real happy about that.
It was while tripping around Queensland that I was introduced to one of the biggest cane toads I have ever seen. He was what my dad would call a ‘big bastard’. My cousin Rory picked it up and suggested we put it under a truck wheel so all of us kids, six in total, could see it get squashed. I didn’t like that idea, poor bloody thing. After arguing for a good ten minutes it was decided we would put it in the old bathtub they had out the back for the night, and by morning we would have decided what we were going to do with it. I on the other hand had already worked out what I was going to do. Before going to bed I went and found Pop’s special LED torch from under the driver’s seat of the car and put it under my pillow. That night around twoish, while the adults were still up playing euchre and after all the cousins were fast asleep, I tiptoed out of the house down to the old bathtub. Now most of Pop’s family can get the real heebie-jeebies about the dark. He said it is something to do with the dead walking around after the sun goes down, old stories from the Islands. Even though I have Pop’s height and his fuzzy hair, it doesn’t mean I believe in
the dead and the dark thing. Like Nan says, ‘It doesn’t have to be dark for you to see the dead, Fuzzy.’ I am with Nan on this one, being in the dark doesn’t worry me.
At the tub I picked up an old tin honey bucket and coaxed Toad into it. It felt heavy. I turned on the torch. Toad and I walked through the little wire gate next to the veggie patch and followed a bush track over to the back cane-field. It took us a good fifteen minutes to get there.
I looked back to the lights of the house, nothing stirred, so far the plan was a success. I thought now was a good time to tell Toad what was going through my mind. Toad didn’t say a thing; he didn’t croak, burp, fart, nothing. He sat there looking at the side of the bucket.
‘Toad, you poor bloody thing, you and me might look different but I reckon I totally understand the predicament you and your mob are in. This is how I see it. All cane toads, foxes and rabbits have had a bad run in this country. You were all brought out here for a reason and here you are, living in the land of plenty. You’ve been hard at work eating up the dreaded cane beetle but the goverment forgot, didn’t it? It’s not all about the cane here. Like the rest of us, you are one of God’s creatures and it’s natural that you’d find a partner, pair up and have a big family and, next thing you know, your family is having a big family of their own, and on and on it goes.
‘As time goes on the powers that be – politicians, scientists and environmentalists – come to the conclusion that that ugly thing they introduced to Australia to wipe out the other thing that was introduced to Australia earlier on is now totally out of control. You, Toad, need to go.’
I moved the toad around a bit with a stick but still he just sat there breathing, not really caring.
‘Generally speaking mate, this is how you, rabbit and fox got on that dreadful wanted list. Whichever way you look at it, Toad, it’s not a very positive list to be on? Especially for you, because let’s be real here, you’re not that pretty, you’re poisonous and, to top it all off, the majority of Australia hates you. I, on the other hand, can’t help but feel sorry for you.
Grace Beside Me Page 10
