Calypso Summer (11 page)

‘That's deadly,' I said before thinking a little longer about what Bruce had said. Then Shae asked, ‘Do you know what else is round, Brea?'

‘What?' asked Brea.

‘The hole you came out of!' Shae said bursting into laughter.

Bruce and I cracked up too and even Brea couldn't help but laugh. I guess being careful not to encourage Shae, Bruce quickly stood up from his crouched position by the fire and asked, ‘Alright, what you mob want to do? Fish or have a feed?'

‘I'm hungry Dad,' Brea moaned.

‘Yeah me too, and look, the moon's still rising,' Shae said looking to the night sky.

The full moon is the best time to go fishing. There's always more fish biting, especially garfish.

‘Alright, well let's start cooking then.'

Bruce and the girls were like a well-oiled machine. Brea buttered bread and Shae opened two cans of baked beans. Bruce placed the bread inside a waffle iron and then cracked an egg on the bread and a few dabs of baked beans before closing the irons and putting them in the fire. When I could hear and smell things sizzling Bruce looked up at me and said, ‘You see, that's the amazing thing about our old mob. They didn't need to cut things down or have electricity. They just learnt to live with the land in a way that made them comfortable.'

‘Like the shelter trees,' I said.

‘Yeah, but that was kind of more short-term accommodation in the winter or if you got caught in the rain when travelling type of thing. And you know how rich fellas have central heating in their houses?'

‘Course … seen it on television.'

‘Well our old fellas had that in their winter homes too, their fires up in the caves there. And they had air-conditioning too. In the summer they'd live down here by the coast, getting cool by the sea breeze and swimming. Our next door neighbours, the Adnyamathana, call this way of living Yura Muda. That's what they call the Dreaming. That's what I call it too … even though our old people called our history time Wipma. You see, connected with country, giving and taking.' the Dreaming ain't just a lot of stories, it's a way of living, staying I sat on the ground next to my young cousins considering what Bruce was telling us and I realised that, like Uncle Ray had told me, I was only learning kindergarten stuff.

‘Yeah, they were smart fellas our old people,' Bruce said as he looked into the flames of the fire and sipped water from a beatenup pannikin.

°°°

Not long after dinner we sat at the mouth of the estuary, Bruce and the girls fishing with hand lines and me with my fishing rod. The moon was full on. It felt like there was electricity in the air or something. The sea gurgled as it started to cover the saltbushes that cling to the coast. The olive leaves of the mangroves shone silver and occasionally you could see and hear the splash of a jumping
fish. I could smell the fish swimming beneath the glassy surface too. We all baited our lines with cockles and Bruce was fishing with a float, to catch garfish. But Shae was the first to shriek, ‘I've got one,' and then she pulled in a healthy King George whiting.

‘Beauty! That's a big one,' Bruce yelled out as Shae landed it on the shore, unhooked it and quickly threw it into a bucket of sea water.

I shone my torch in the bucket. ‘That's a deadly fish. It's huge.' Brea baited her hook as fast as she could, her face beaming.

‘Your turn now cuz,' Bruce said just as I felt a strong nibble and pull on my line. I put the torch down on the ground quick smart and then started to wind in my catch. It was a King George whiting, another huge one.

We only fished for about three quarters of an hour but between us we caught almost a dozen whiting, half a dozen garfish and a couple of massive tommy roughs.

Shae and Brea boasted, ‘We're real deadly fishers, hey Dad?'

‘Yeah, I know that. But do you know how to make the fish come back?' Bruce asked.

I considered the question for a moment and then Brea said, ‘Course we do. You stop fishing them.'

‘Or you just keep the big ones and throw the little ones back,' Shae added.

°°°

Bruce put a billy on the fire when we returned to the camp and the girls grabbed a box of chicken flavoured biscuits. There was also a big block of chocolate, some biscuits and marshmallows.
‘Anyone want some bananas and grapes?' I asked pulling a lunch box from my bag.

‘How many bananas you got?' Bruce asked.

‘Four.'

‘Can I use them to make dessert?'

‘I don't mind but what you gunna do with them?'

‘Oh it's lovely,' said Shae.

‘Just wait a little while and you'll see,' said Bruce before grabbing the bananas and going to the back of the Toyota with them.

‘How do you want your tea?' Brea asked me as she threw teabags into four large pannikins. ‘No sugar and just a little milk.'

Soon we were all scraping melted chocolate and hot banana out of aluminum foil packages. It was too deadly to believe.

‘Told ya,' said Shae, as she lay in her sleeping bag next to Brea watching me lick my lips.

‘Yeah, it tastes good but you'll end up looking like a fat Elvis if you eat too much,' said Bruce with a laugh.

‘Once in a while is alright,' I said.

‘Alright for you to say, skinny young fella, your guts is not big like this yet, is it?' Bruce said pushing out his big gut and slapping his hands on it.

‘And it never will be either,' I told him.

‘So you're really into this health food thing 'ey Calypso?'

‘Not that much, I mean I just try to eat natural things, things that come pure from the earth and sea. Never really had much of a sweet tooth.'

‘But what about the health food shop where you work? What's that like?'

‘It's alright most of the time.'

‘Most of the time … is your boss a prick or something?'

‘Na, he's alright, sometimes he's just a bit slack … other things on his mind, I guess.'

‘He's a whitefella, hey?'

‘Yeah.'

‘He's the fella that told you to get traditional medicines and things inny?'

I was glad that Bruce was asking questions about Gary because I never really got the chance to explain things the first time we met. I looked at the girls in their sleeping bags starting to get comfy. They were knackered.

I began telling my story by saying, ‘It was kind of unexpected how it happened.'

‘How what happened?'

‘Getting a job for starters … but especially Gary asking about Aboriginal plants and things. See, he's always going on about different plants and foods that are good for you or help treat sickness. I didn't think he'd be interested in Aboriginal things. But then he started talking about wanting to make products out of them.'

‘What type of products?'

‘He talked about lots of things like foods, massage oils and medicines but the one thing he is on about most of all is something you can put in a tub to help people relax.'

‘True? I bet he didn't offer to pay for them though?' Bruce said taking a gulp of his tea.

‘Nah, he did. He said he'd give me a three thousand dollar bonus if we find something, he'd pay family for helping and he'd split profits with us.'

Bruce threw the last of his tea in the fire and said, ‘That sounds alright.'

I didn't know if Bruce was taking the piss but anyway I said, ‘Yeah, that's what I thought but I didn't know talking about it with everyone would cause so much trouble.'

‘Jingies,' said Bruce, ‘don't worry about that. You see, we're all just a bit suspicious. Since the government returned land to us, and with native title and everything, there's been all types of people coming out of the woodwork wanting a piece of things. But you cuz, there's no denying you're family and you're kind of coming proper way.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well our mob always gives something to get something in return. That's why we've really got no word for thank you, because if someone does a good turn for you, it's expected you do the same for them, see?'

‘I got no plans to rip anyone off.'

‘I know that, cuz,' Bruce said quietly.

I watched a shooting star streak above the gulf and then said, ‘Vic thinks I'm trying to rip you fellas off though 'ey?'

‘Like I said, we've had a lot taken from us and people get a bit wary. But don't worry about it, Vic will come around.'

I didn't know when Vic would come around and I didn't think it was worth pushing things any further with Bruce. It wasn't long before we were in our swags, lying flat on our backs ready to crash. I watched the millions of stars shining in the clear dark sky and they kind of made me feel very small. It was a good feeling. Made me think that a god or something is in control and things would work out just how they were supposed to. I thought about
the things I was learning about my culture and wondered how many years I'd have to spend with family before I graduated from learning kindergarten stuff. Then Bruce said, ‘See all these stars?'

‘They're deadly 'ey.'

‘They're our old people, sitting 'round campfires looking over us.'

‘That's where you go when you die?' I asked.

‘Yep.'

‘And what if you're bad, do you go to hell or something?'

‘Not worth worrying about, cuz. If you're a good person you'll end up there … if you think about being a bad person,' Bruce yawned, ‘you'll probably end up bad.'

I lay awake for a while after the others were asleep. I could hear Bruce snoring and the girls breathing loudly. It wasn't annoying though because I had all of those bright stars to look at. There were heap of shooting stars too, must have been an astral shower. I thought about Clare and I thought about my dreadlocks and being Rasta. I started to wonder if being a Rasta was really for me. It was a bit scary because I mean for so long I'd tried living like a Rasta, not just because I love reggae, the West Indian cricket team, Usain Bolt and I used to smoke ganja, but because when I felt I had nothing, no job, no future, living like a Rasta felt like the only thing I had. In some ways I was like Jamaicans … Bob Marley even. You see, he had a black mum and a white dad too. His dad took off, mine died. I'd grown up pretty poor too and I decided that if I couldn't have money, at least I would be cool. I knew that things were different for me, being a black kid in a white world and I liked the way reggae artists sing about what it means to be black, poor and different. But there I was lying on the land of my ancestors, with my cousins. It was cool the stuff they knew. I wanted to learn more about it, be a part of it too.

14

When Bruce dropped us home on Sunday night Mum and I had a few cuppas so she could tell me some of the things she'd yarned with Aunty Janet about. She wanted to know what I'd got up to with Bruce and the girls too. The next morning I was pretty buggered after camping, fishing, exploring and yarning with Mum. But I still pulled on my yoga pants and went to work in the morning. Nothing was going to stop me from going to Cleopatra's to suss out Clare.

On my lunch break, I took off to Cleopatra's scared as hell. I was nervous about seeing Clare, but more scared about getting my dreadlocks chopped off. You see, I thought getting a haircut was going to be the best way to get to know her. I put on my cool short-sleeve shirt and I even bought some new deodorant for the occasion on the way to work. I tried washing my dreads before I left home too because I'd heard stories of things being found in people's dreads like spider nests and bits of food, a teaspoon even. I just hoped the only thing stuck in my dreads was beach sand, maybe a ten dollar note if I was lucky.

‘No coffee, no cake?' Steph asked when I entered the salon empty handed.

‘Nah sorry, I've come to get my hair cut.'

‘You call that hair?' she said, giving a little laugh. ‘I'm only joking mate. Take a seat and Clare will be with you in a minute. I'm off to lunch.'

Clare said hello and told me to take a seat in the slick black leather hairdresser's chair. I walked over real smooth way and tried not to fidget when I sat down but I was freaking out. I
looked at my dreads in the mirror and realised it would take ages to re-grow them. Since I started working at Gary's my dreads had only grown an inch or so, down to about the middle of my back. Some of them were fatter than rope. The ends were even starting to turn blonde.

‘How's things Calypso?'

‘Yeah, cool,' I said smiling but trying not to stare at Clare. It was hard because there she was next to me and in the mirror reflection.

‘Are you after a trim?'

‘Nah, all off thanks,' I said as if I didn't care.

‘Really! How long did it take you to grow these?' she asked as she took a pair of scissors from a container on the bench.

‘Three and a half years, maybe longer.'

‘Are you sure you want them all off?'

I nodded realising that however I looked once they were gone, it would be Clare's work. And then Clare took one of my dreads and held it in her left hand. Then she started moving the scissors in her right towards it. Just before she made the first cut, she suddenly said, ‘Oh shit, wait a minute.'

Clare took a remote from the bench and turned on the television. I swivelled in the chair to see what she wanted to watch.

‘Just checking the score,' she said.

I couldn't believe that Clare was watching the cricket, a replay of West Indian captain Veerasammy Permaul being dropped off the bowling of Brett Lee.

‘You like cricket?' I asked.

‘Like cricket? I don't like cricket, I love it!' Clare said laughing.

‘And you're not angry that catch was dropped then?'

‘No way! I was worried that Permaul was nearly caught. The West Indies are my team.'

My heart started racing flat out 'ey. I couldn't believe it, a woman that loved the West Indies … and not just any woman … Clare … the babe.