Joyous and Moonbeam (4 page)

Joyous, My Special

More than once you have probably wondered why I decided to allow Sammy-K into our lives five years after the death of your dadda who was such a different man. It's a fair question and one that I am often struggling to answer because I don't always know myself. What I mean is, it's hard to recall exactly how we came to be together, there's just a feeling of the time or a set of moments that added up to make a whole.

After Dadda's accident I was very lost, very lonely, feeling very empty. I didn't go out with anyone much, it
was just you and me on the Kinsville farm getting to know each other through sharing. You were a comfort to me and the only way I could defeat my sadness was to remember Thomas Bowen through you, you being the same tallness and with eyes deep and strong and snow hair and lovely smile that showed your inner beam reminding me of him. I suppose you and me we were like two hermits, or those ducks waddling along at their own pace, but nevertheless it was simple and good although I didn't know it, just working the vegetables and keeping the animals happy like our extra family members and being in our own space, which I still miss being stuck here in the city in this apartment but that's just how it is.

Then after about five years of same-old day-in-day-out, a good life but quiet for me, then Sammy-K came calling. He was selling property at the time, mainly land, and said he could get a good price for the farm if I was interested in selling because five-acre blocks by the river were becoming a precious rarity and much sought-after by people looking for a change in their lives as well as for development. He was different looking then too, healthier and more muscled, tanned like a saddle and confident with it. But I suppose we were both different, me much thinner and still good-looking in my own kind of way. Least that's what he said over and over. He was a real flatterer in those early days, turning my head by calling
me My Darling and even My Exotic, like these were my names, never Margaret or Marg, but My Darling or My Exotic. Anyway it wasn't just flattering and looks so much, what he had, Joyous, was a sense of going somewhere, going some place and that's what first attracted me, especially since I had been so much alone for five years, apart from you, of course, My Special. You need to know I wasn't trying hard looking for another man, because I knew that no man could ever replace the wonderfulness of Thomas Bowen, but Sammy-K had direction which I did not and that's what got him over the doormat in the first place.

Once over he was very persistent, though not in a way that I found to be wrongful. I think at that time I was weakened by not having any sort of seeable future and worrying about you growing up in the style that you were, without a daddy or an understanding of anything else but the farm and me. So even though I knew Sammy-K was from time to time a bit harsh and sarcastic in his dealings with you and also with me I sort of pushed that backwards in my mind and tried to think of the good bits, like a sense of going somewhere. So you see, I was doing what Thomas Bowen always said, working things around a little and for a while it was okay and trusting and that trust made it easy for Sammy-K to persuade me to leave Kinsville and go to the city with him, a place filled with
opportunity he said which was all he ever wanted. We'll be rich, he said, a palace for My Darling, My Exotic. So we were married in the registry office quick as a flash and off we went.

You have to know that I have never been especially comfortable here but it's always been my nature to make the best of what we have, no point in complaints now, just get on with it. When we first arrived the apartment was no palace but a mess and so gloomy but I fixed it as best I could and I grew flowers which was a hobby and selling them in those days gave me some extra bits and pieces. I was sure that Sammy-K would find a job, being in property as he was, and he used to go out looking every day. At least that's what I thought until the smell and appearance of him helped me work out he was out drinking down the road at the Queens Head or Royal. I had some money from the sale of the farm and I had lent most of it to Sammy-K to set up business in property, or so I thought. I guess I was naive because he wasn't doing that, not at all. After a year or two the idea of a job just went away in preference to the fortnightly dole money and we never talked any more about business in property because it made him angry and that was never good, Sammy-K being angry. The city was a hard place, a drain that seemed to pull away his sense of going somewhere and he sort of came into greyness and became less than what he once
was. When that happened the anger was quicker to rise and I suppose it was to do with feeling a lesser amount of worthwhileness. But I couldn't know these things when he first crossed the doormat.

I know it was often hard for my precious Joyous because he wasn't always beneficial to you but Sammy-K truly was a decent if somewhat misled man. In those earlier days he would say sarcastic things that he shouldn't have been saying and, yes, he raised his hand in anger on occasions and that was not good either. You have to believe me that until the accident I always tried my very hardest to keep Sammy-K away from you. Please remember too, that he loved me, he really did, I heard it in his voice calling for My Darling, My Exotic. Besides which, Joyous, Mamma was lonely without Thomas Bowen and past finding anyone else and for all his faults Sammy-K stuck by Mamma through thick and thin, for better or worse. I especially know you didn't like it when back then he raised his hand in anger at Mamma because you hid your ears and eyes but please understand, Joyous, that on some occasions it was my fault, like leaving those photos of Thomas Bowen lying around, which was not being in fairness to Sammy-K.

That is all there is to say this time. We are here now just as we have been for many years and despite what recently came to pass I believe that by and large it's been good
and we've done our best which is all you can ask of any body or soul. That is what I am proudest of with you, My Special, the way you do your best and are such a fine and decent, good-hearted man and with the same inner beam as your dadda Thomas Bowen. You are both forever in my heart.

With all of my love, Mamma

Go back, you say, mister, go back to the after-the-farm. Joyous has lots of pictures in his noggin to be recalling. Like first I did come into the city in the seat of Sammy-K's pride-and-joy, his car with the flaring silver sides and fresh paint coloured maroon, plastic on the seat so I didn't cause a wet mark or vomit problem with coloured jellybeans. The city was big and smoky and smelling of bins, not like the farming house, and Joyous had never seen so much buildings before, grey tall ones and high skinny ones and ones with windows like a page of stamps from Mamma's honkingly good collection now lost and
gone. And I do recall the cars too, all around swishing and whizzing in lines then the traffic lights. Joyous had never been seeing traffic lights before either so I was wanting to stay and watch the changes from green orange red green orange red and getting out of the pride-and-joy to press the buttons on the posts to make it happen with fastness but Sammy-K did be saying, Shut the lunatic up, Mags, and kept steering along the streets past the shops and the broken-down Castrol service station now selling vegies and once-upon-a-time Mamma's flowers towards the place that did become our home of so many years in the block three-storeys high.

And I do recall Mamma coming out of the car all sweaty and pink and tying her hair into a pile of shape and staring up at the block three-storeys-high saying, Is this it? Is this it? Are you sure? And Sammy-K did be swearing at her and yelping like the Jefferson's dog that got stuck in a rabbit trap near a creek near the farming house which was when Mister Jefferson had to come along with a gun and shoot out its misery. Being kind, Mamma said, but not for Joyous to be watching. And Sammy-K did be unpacking from the boot of the car and saying, What did you expect, princess, a friggen palace? Which is not a word I want to say but reminds Joyous of Sammy-K back then so it's righteous, and then Mamma did say, No, no, it's fine, everything's fine, hun, which was a doopy-doo cause it wasn't fine but
Sammy-K had that look in his eye, that blazing one, all bulgy and middle-of-the-fire, ready to pop like a balloon with too much breath inside.

So we did shunter inside and there was oldness stinking that Mamma did be saying was a thing called mildew that I could smell like a cow-shed at Kinsville after raining in winter. One of the windows wouldn't open on account of swelled timber from the leakage and the walls didn't be having colour which Joyous was thinking to be strange because I had never seen any wall without colour but Sammy-K did say, It's beige, you Spazzo Mong. And darkness and shadows but not to mind because I did know that Mamma was working things around a little when she was saying, Well, this is nice, isn't it, Joyous? Our new home. This has potential. Which was one of her bestest
shl
words. But I could still see Sammy-K's blazing eye so I did keep my head downward like a serving-boy and be carrying boxes not to drop them from the car with the flaring silver sides.

That night Joyous was not sleeping on account of the noises from the big city spread all around. These were noises I know now but which frightened me then, like car horns going daaah and traffic going rrmm-rrmm-waaa, and a party with loud rocky music and someone yelling words that I remember being, Go then. Go! See if I care! And I did be hearing toots and hoots and voices coming
and going with the wind then a differing smell which was more comfortable and warm like a nice whisper inside your brain. And I did be discovering the next day that it was the honkingly good park nearby behind the shops and filled to the brimsome with the sounds of sleepy birds and trees in the breezes and the grass which did grow quickly being mowed.

But mister, after that first scariest night it was being an okayness for a while because I do recall Mamma did grow flowers in window-boxes and Sammy-K holding her with his tan arms while she was watering them and saying, This is the life, hey hun? This is the grand old dealaroo. And Mamma was nodding because of happiness and knowing that it would all be beneficial especially when Sammy-K was a success man with a job and a badge and maybe even, said Mamma, a uniform with gold braid. Those were truesome days even though the apartment was hot and stinky on account of there being no fans. I suppose it was the summertime when we drove in so the days were long of sunshine and mostly sparklous and in the afternoons Joyous did be going to the park a lot which I am still doing while Mamma and Sammy-K laid down for resting. Except no more of that, not since the accident, of course, with Mamma being alone.

Yes mister, I will be getting on with it. There was being another boy at the park whose name was Bruce Edward
Matthew McIntosh. Bruce Edward Matthew McIntosh did give Joyous chewy which was nice and spear-minted so then we did play stuff of games in the trees and bushes like pirates and wars and police and cowboys. It was honkingly good then Bruce Edward Matthew McIntosh's Mamma did come to the park one other day in a red jacket and yell at Joyous for stealing the chewy which I didn't be doing. But that was a wriggled kind of confusing filled with too much noise like a hard piece from school so Joyous did decide that sometimes people don't want to be knowing the true sort of facts which is not their fault but just down to the ongoing turning of the earth, which is a honkingly good example of working things around a little like my Dadda did write.

So you can see, mister, that the early times were middling and not too unfortunate. That summertime was pretty muchly nearly happiness and the city was getting-used-to, even if the sounds sometimes hurt and be making my ears gluey. There was often a warm blue of sky and Mamma's flowers and a nice old lady down the hallway who did lend us sugars and breads and stuff for helping to cook and Sammy-K was an outside man being walking the streets for work and a badge and maybe even a uniform with gold braid. So Mamma and Joyous could spend time sorting it all out, which we did by painting the walls in peach colouring and it was dandiful, mister, dandiful.

Only when the winter winds did blow in were changes beginning – no more flowers, no more walking of the streets, no more afternoons being at the park, my favoured, but school for me with the cruel boys who Mamma said I should feel sorry for on account of them being scared of themselves which was working it around a little. But in winter we were inside all of the time, like vegies in a stew, Mamma secretly said in our chatting, and that was when there was some bad bits, when everything became twisty and burning and the blazing balloon-eye did be bulging and popping more than ever before.

Hey, Joyous?

Yes, Moonbeam.

Have you … have you ever …

Mm?

Ever wanted to get out?

Joyous is not to be understanding the get out.

Sorry, I'll be more – what I mean is, leave. Have you ever wanted to leave? As in, leave here?

Leave here?

This place. No more of – here. No more city, no more this place, no more home, the lot. Ever wanted to leave?

Not to be leaving, Moonbeam. Joyous is dandiful in here this place.

You've never wanted to? Seriously? Leave good old Room 12 and wherever you live, with the crap-a-lot dog – never wanted to leave all that?

The dog is being called Sasha and she is bounciful.

Come on, don't stall. Have you?

No, never.

Why not?

Joyous would not be leaving Mamma.

Ah. Of course. Should've realised. She means a lot to you, doesn't she, big guy?

Yes indeedy-do. Mamma is meaning a lot to Joyous and Joyous is meaning a lot to Mamma, like she says, Her Special.

That is so … I mean, you're lucky. That's the weird thing. Your life is – different, really different, but in a strange kind of way, you're lucky.

Joyous is indeedy-do a fellow of luck. Lollipopsicle?

No, thanks.

Sixty-two to go. I will be having raspberry for niceness.

Good for you. Joyous, I want to leave.

Mm.

How about that, yeah? I want to leave. I WANT TO LEAVE!

Be shushing, Moonbeam, or Mister Santorini will
come a-running and he will be saying no more off you go and then Joyous will be down low.

Sorry.

It is an okayness.

I – want – to – leave.

Moonbeam, Joyous is already knowing of this.

You know? How? I haven't said anything –

Joyous is already knowing of this because Moonbeam's eyes are often being sad and in elsewhere.

Oh. Is it that obvious?

Mm.

I suppose you think I should work things around a little.

Like my dadda wrote.

Bracks is the same. You two would get on
so
well.
Ashleigh, there's always a solution if you're prepared to look for it. Ashleigh, you need be positive
. Crap-crap-crapola.

Moonbeam.

What? Oh, I know. Swearing. Sorry. I'm just –

Three-in-one.

Yeah. Hey, I'm inventive. Do you want a coffee or water?

Joyous is liking of the coffee but with not any sugar because of hypo.

Okay. Milk? No? There ya go, big guy. And I am sorry, really, about yelling and swearing and stuff. Got carried away.

It is an okayness.

Thanks. Hey, Joyous, do you want to hear about my dream?

Joyous is also having the dreams.

Go on then. You go first.

Joyous does dream of times ago with the farm with the duck family and my dadda's face from the photo in my drawer and the church where my mamma and dadda did meet and talk while she was holding her purse and the people whispering.

Before you were born, obviously.

Yes.

Your parents met at a church. Ever seen it?

Not to be remembering.

But you want to. Is that it? Is that why you dream …?

The church is being of old stones and colourful windows sitting pretty inside Joyous's head after Mamma's describing.

Gotcha. So, where is this church? Do you know?

By the river up-country near the small town of Kinsville where we once were living many moons back.

Kinsville? I've heard of that. Go north, inland a bit – there's this music festival near there, every year. Chinese lantern parades and hippies dancing in the mud. Is that where you're from?

Yes. Kinsville and the farm. Does Moonbeam also
have dreaming of farms and churches?

No. No, Joyous, in my dream I was on a boat.

Boats are dandiful.

They are, particularly this one. It was a sailing boat. Huge and wooden, a classic. Like the one in
Dead Calm
. That's the name of an old movie. Never seen it? Nicole Kidman is on this cool boat, like a maxi-yacht, and some bad dude cons his way onboard and tries to kill her and her husband.

Joyous does not be liking killing-her-and-her-husband movies.

Chill, she wins out in the end. Gets the dude with a spear-gun. Pretty cool. Anyway, in my dream I was on this boat. All around was ocean, nothing else. No islands, no reefs, nothing, just water. Endless water, endless sky. Then, guess what?

Joyous cannot be guessing.

Suddenly I realised that everything was still. Everything! No waves, no currents, no seaweed, no tides. And when I looked up into the sky, the birds were frozen. You know, mid-flight. Wings out, heads up. The only thing that could move was me. It was like … like I was in a picture but I could move. Cool, hey?

Cool.

Well done!

Mm.

And there was silence. An amazing silence.

Joyous is liking of silences. And trees.

Absolutely. So, you know what I did? In my dream, I mean? I got off the boat and skipped along, touched stuff, even walked on the water.

Jesus Christ Son Of God walked on water.

Yeah, but this was a dream. Jesus was – anyway, there's a difference. Apparently. So, I walked around and explored. Just touching. Running my fingers over the wings of a bird. It was magic. Because even though the bird was still, I could feel it was alive. You know, warm and sort of – throbbing. Then I knelt down and felt how smooth and cool the water was. I even touched the sky, and I remember … I remember it felt as if it was made of old paper that could scrunch or split. Like parchment, in a museum.

Moonbeam did be having a dandiful dream.

It was, Joyous, exactly. It was – dandiful. Or cool. Same thing, isn't it?

Joyous is liking of cool.

Good for you. Hey, let's reverse, you say cool and I'll say dandiful. Okay?

Okay.

Joyous, this was the most dandiful dream!

Cool!

Yeah, it was. It was. Until … there's always an until,
isn't there? Until I woke up and it was pitch-black, the middle of the night and I had this funny sensation left over, like I was trembling. Ever had that feeling?

Mm.

It's hard to explain. I think, I think it was about how – how beautiful things were. I mean, normal stuff you take for granted, like a seagull and the sky, a chunk of water and the white hull of a sailing-boat. All beautiful. The dumb thing was, the feeling went. The trembling. I had it when I woke up, then, just as quickly, it was gone. Sort of – evaporated. And all that was left was my room and all the usual shit which I hate so much, hate it all. I know, I know, I swore and I'm sorry, it's just that sometimes, sometimes …

Moonbeam. Moonbeam?

What?

Wet eyes.

Yes.

Is Moonbeam in sadness because of the dream?

No, it's because – because I had to – I'm sad because it stopped, okay? Like everything good always stops.

Joyous is liking of your dream, Moonbeam.

Jesus, why do all the good things stop so quickly, and the rest – the rest just –

Moonbeam's dream is the coolest and the most dandiful.

I feel so trapped in this stupid bloody world, like everything keeps piling up and nothing ever changes or gets any better, no matter how much I try to –

Moonbeam, Joyous will be holding your hand now. Mamma says that simple things like the holding of hands can be such a comfort in times of dilemma.

Why is that? Why do things always end up that way?

Moonbeam.

What? What! Oh, Joyous, I'm sorry, I –

Your coolest and most dandiful dream.

What about it?

Moonbeam can be having it back again, any time.

Huh?

Night-time, day-time, any time. Your dream is always there and thereabouts.

Yeah. I suppose. Sorry, I didn't mean to snap, I –

Sad Joyous can be thinking of Mamma and the farm and the ducks of Kinsville. Sad Moonbeam can be thinking of the sailing-boat and the beautiful seagull and the chunky water and the sky that is paper. Night-time, day-time, any time. Just be closing of your wet eyes and calling for the dream and it will be coming back like an Aborigine boomerang. This is what Joyous is doing of my life sometimes.

You working things around for me, big guy?

A little.

Thank you. I mean that.

Welcome.

You're a legend, you know?

Mm. Thank you, Moonbeam. Cool.