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Authors: Jared Thomas

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BOOK: Calypso Summer
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After an hour or so of sitting there in the heat with the old men, the barking dogs, the squawking crows, Mel and two men stepped out onto the veranda.

‘This is Calypso,' Mel told them.

I got up from the edge of the veranda to shake both of their hands.

‘We know who he is,' said the older and fatter fella who introduced himself as Bruce. ‘G'day, I'm Vic,' said the other fella, shaking my hand.

‘They're nearly finished up in there, you'll meet all the mob in a minute,' Bruce said.

I figured that Bruce and Vic must be at least twenty years older than me. Bruce was a real solid kind of fella with a gut and grey hair. He was dressed kind of pretty flash for a Saturday too, wearing a shirt, jeans and a pair of brown soft leather shoes. Vic also had grey hair but he looked like a footballer or something, all toned, you know. He was dressed more casually than Bruce, wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers. Bruce asked me if I wanted a drink and after I told him I was alright, he started yarning with his brother.

‘Don't get me wrong,' said Bruce, ‘Of course I'm not complaining about investment into country but the terms are wrong.'

‘What's there to worry about? We're being offered a way to start making some real money from the property, the biggest mobs of money,' Vic said, convincingly.

‘You're starting to sound like a bloody whitefella, you don't get it either,' Bruce interjected. ‘We're being pressured into running the property like a whitefella farm … with cattle and that.'

‘Well we're already doing the sheep agistment and that's going alright.'

‘It barely pays the bills and you know how them sheep bugger up the land.'

‘But with a bit of extra cattle the bills are paid and we'll have extra cash to do other things with.'

‘All I want Vic is to see some of this country come back to life you know, even if it just comes back to how it was when we were kids, a few patches of proper bush here and there. Just give us a chance to get things back to like that.' Bruce said frustrated. ‘Even our old people were farming it back in the 1930s, leasing sections and taking a cut.'

‘I am sure they were doing what they needed to, but times have changed, there's other ways of making the property work.'

‘How long ago was our country returned to us? Twenty years, what? Everyone's got a good idea but not much has happened unna?'

‘Even if we leave it just the way it is, it's better than having sheep and cattle tearing it up.'

‘If we don't start making some money and looking after it, the government and everyone will say we've failed … again … That's just the way it is,' said Vic.

I could understand where Bruce was coming from, even if I wasn't raised in the bush with my mob. You just had to look at all the bare paddocks everywhere to see what farming is doing.

Mel walked out of Aunty Janet's front door with more people. There was an old fella, not as old as the two really old uncles, but an old fella, in a western shirt, cowboy hat and boots, with a bushy salt and pepper moustache, sideburns and hair. A really skinny and dark fella, not much older than me, was with him. He wore a cap and drank beer from a longneck bottle. There was an older lady wearing a t-shirt, long skirt and thongs. The old cowboy fella handed a cigarette to them and Mel introduced me.
The cowboy was Uncle Ray, the bearded teenager was cousin Will, and the older lady Auntie Val-May.

Uncle Ray shook my hand, ‘I've been waiting long time to see you again neph,' he said. Will just nodded at me shyly. Aunty Val-May puffed on her cigarette and then gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug and said, ‘I'm Aunty Janet's cousin, your mother's cousin too. I used to give you smacks when you were little, so don't go getting cheeky or I'll slap your murntu again.'

A woman who looked a lot like Mum but wearing glasses and maybe ten or so years older walked through the front door, looked at me and came and gave me a big hug too. She took one of my dreads in her wrinkled black hands and said, ‘What in the buggery is this Calypso?' I just smiled at her and said, ‘Nice to meet you Aunty Janet.'

‘You too, Kyle. You hungry or what? I'm starving. Come out the back and have a feed with all the mob, hey?'

10

Everybody sat around two large wooden trestle tables or stood around the BBQ. People were getting things ready for the feed and just about everyone seemed to be helping out. The kids gathered firewood and piled it next to a pit that Will dug into the earth. Once the fire was lit, Uncle Ray got a few kangaroo tails and began singeing the fur off them. When it was time to place the tails in the ground, Mel was ready with a damper to place in the ground with them. ‘Can I have some roo tail Uncle Ray?' one of the kids asked. ‘No,' said Ray pretending to be angry. ‘How many times do you need to be told only old fellas can eat this stuff. It makes your hair turn grey you know.' He took a scull of beer and then winked at me.

Uncle Ray checked on the BBQ. The hotplate was covered with sausages, chicken and steak that spat fat. The dogs took care of the fatty bits of meat that Uncle Ray threw to the ground and any sausages that rolled off the hotplate. The women boiled things in pots and made salads in Aunty Janet's kitchen.

When people started loading up their plates, Bruce's wife Shanti placed the final dish on the table, a huge pot of curry crab. She served some of the curry crab to Bruce and when she went to put some on my plate Bruce stopped her. ‘Calypso doesn't eat crabs, Shanti,' Bruce told her.

‘Why don't he eat them?' Aunty Janet asked, ‘They're straight out of the sea. Will only just caught 'em.'

‘Because he's a Rastafarian, Mum,' Vic answered.

‘A rasta what?' asked Aunty Janet.

‘A Rastafarian, a Rasta man, it's like a religion like Buddhism or Christianity. There's a fella who's like Jesus, they grow dreadlocks and they believe in certain things.'

‘Well I can see they grow funny hair but what type of things they believing in then?'

‘Well for starters,' said Vic, ‘they don't believe in eating crabs and crayfish, or pork, because they reckon these animals are scavengers.'

‘Is that what you is?' Aunty Janet asked as if I was crazy. ‘A fella that don't eat crab or pig?'

Aunty Janet's question was a tricky one to answer. I only had a couple of friends from the Caribbean that I met at the cricket. I wasn't smoking but reggae music was still my thing. And there I was sitting with my mob eating kangaroo tail and curried crab. ‘I'm just too lazy to comb my hair,' I said. Everyone laughed.

‘Proper blackfella, hey,' Mel squealed.

‘Our old fellas used to have hair like that way back and I reckon it looks pretty neat, Calypso.'

‘Thanks, Aunty Janet.'

‘There's certain food they didn't eat too – us mob still don't eat them things.'

‘But I eat crab though,' I told everyone, the smell and sight of the crab making my mouth water.

‘Thank you,' I said when Shanti finally dished me up some.

‘Don't thank me, thank Will, he's the one that caught them.'

I gave Will the thumbs up. I couldn't believe how good it tasted with all the spice and things mixed together. I'd never thought of eating hot crabs, especially not in a curry. Hot crabs give you the shits.

I always feel a bit shame meeting new people and meeting my family that day was no different. Although I was eating deadly food and Mel, Aunty Janet and other relies were being cool, it seemed like some of the mob, Vic particularly, just wanted me to fuck off. And I don't think it was just because I'd rocked up when everyone was talking business. Vic watched me closely, like he didn't trust me or he was trying to work out what to make of me. It was like he thought I'd steal the ground from beneath his feet … kind of like how some whitefellas look at me. And I didn't have a clue how to start asking Aunty Janet about Aboriginal plants and medicines and things.

‘So you staying here tonight, Calypso?' asked Vic, between picking at bits of meat stuck in his teeth.

I looked at Vic not knowing what to say. ‘You're more than welcome, dear,' Aunty Janet said and then Bruce said, ‘Stay and then you can grab a ride back to Adelaide with us tomorrow afternoon. Not too early though.'

‘That'll be good,' I said.

I wiped my mouth on the inside of the collar of my t-shirt, the crab was burning my mouth a bit. I was starting to worry what it would do to my arse.

‘Good feed, hey bruz?' Bruce asked.

‘Excellent.'

‘You should go to one of Shanti's family feeds. Indian mob know how to cook a feed that's for sure,' Bruce said.

‘They do proper tandoori style and all,' Vic added.

‘Alright, who's up for a game of cricket?' Ray asked.

Bruce moved slowly from his seat and the kids that were sitting at the other end of the table got up to scout around the
yard. Vic stayed sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands resting on his guts. Two little fellas dragged the bin to the middle of the backyard and one of the older kids walked to the wicket with a bat. I got up and followed Bruce to join the game.

Aunty Janet's backyard, like her front yard, was huge but it wasn't covered in plants or lawn, just dirt. It was flat though and made a good wicket. Her high fences made good boundaries too, you just had to watch out for some farming equipment, an old car body and the fire pit.

The first batsman was my cousin Mat, Vic's son, the bowler my cousin Josh, Mel's son, and the two girls in the field were Bruce's daughters Shae and Brea. I figured that Mat was about eleven and it didn't take me too long to realise that he was a wicked sportsman.

Josh commentated as he bowled, pretending to be Pakistani fast bowler Imran Khan, and for a young fella he wasn't doing a bad imitation, whipping them through to Mat. Occasionally one of the balls slipped through to Vic who was wicketkeeping, and I stood at slip seeing and hearing the tennis ball whiz along. Mat did a good job of smacking the balls all around the yard. If shots didn't hit the fence on the full, Shae, Brea, Josh and Bruce were in hot pursuit of them.

Mat also started commentating with each shot he made, imitating Indian batsman Sachin Tendulkar, the Little Master. ‘A beautiful drive through the covers,' he called out, ‘Unbeatable … the Little Master hooks another six,' he bragged. After Shae and Brea had bowled and Mat was close to making fifty runs, Vic decided to bowl. He set me, Shae, Brea, and Uncle Ray deep in the
field and Josh behind the wicket and delivered high arching spin. Mat managed to place a couple of balls on the fence but before too long he mistimed a ball, it lobbed up to Bruce and he easily caught it.

Shae and Brea batted next and, although not near as good as Mat, they were also a challenge to get out. I thought my sister Evelyn was good at sport but she's not half as good as Shae and Brea. They stood at the crease like fellas their own age and both managed to give the ball a slap that shot the ball racing along the ground.

When both of the girls had been bowled by Vic's deadly spin, Bruce called out, ‘Give Calypso a bat.' Shae walked over and handed me the bat.

‘Quack, quack,' Vic called out as Bruce tossed Mat the tennis ball.

Mat swaggered up to the crease as if he were going to bowl a spinner but released the ball with real energy. The ball swung inwards, bounced and met me at guts height. I played the ball down and Brea who was fielding in close caught it in one hand. Shae and all of the other kids jumped up and down shouting ‘How'z that!'

I looked at Vic and Bruce to check that one-hand-one-bounce was not the rule. ‘Quack, quack,' Vic called from the boundary again. Bruce bent over laughing.

‘That can't be out can it?' I asked.

‘It is if one of the kids catches you,' Vic told me.

‘But don't worry, you can't get out on the first ball,' said Bruce.

I smiled at my cousins and then took my position back at the crease. This time when Mat fired the ball I was prepared and whacked the ball to the fence on the full.

‘Better watch out Mat,' said Vic, still sitting back relaxing while watching the game, ‘looks like someone's out to get you.'

After facing a few balls I could see that my cousins were really trying hard to get me out so I thought I'd give them a run for their money. And I did too, I smacked Bruce, Mat, Josh, Shae and Brea around everywhere. Even Uncle Ray had a bowl, trying his luck. I was having more fun than I'd had in ages.

‘He's playing for sheep stations,' Vic said when I hit two fours in a row off of Shae's bowling.

When Brea was running to get the ball I saw Aunty Janet get up from her seat and start walking inside and was reminded of why I'd travelled to Aunty Janet's in the first place. ‘Anyone else want a bat?' I asked, ‘I retire.'

‘You knew I was coming to bowl you out inny Calypso?' Vic called out.

‘Nah, just need the loo,' I said.

‘See, you're shitting yourself,' Vic said and everyone else laughed along with him.

I handed the bat to Uncle Ray as I walked towards the house. When I stepped into Aunty Janet's kitchen she was having a cup of tea and playing patience. The old uncles were sitting off the side of the kitchen watching the news.

‘Can I grab some water Aunty?'

‘Sure dear, the glasses are just there,' she said moving her eyes away from the neat rows of cards.

As I poured the glass of water, Aunty Janet said, ‘You better introduce yourself to your uncles over there.'

No one had introduced me to them properly because they ate inside when we were having lunch and of course they hadn't said a word to me earlier in the day. I took a sip of water and walked over to where the old men were sitting. One of the old men's thin bony hands gripped his walking stick. Then he held it out for me to shake. When I shook his hand Aunty Janet told the old man that I was his nephew and said that I was Audrey's son and Jack's grandson. I hadn't heard my grandfather's name in a long time but when Aunty Janet said his name, both of the old men smiled.

BOOK: Calypso Summer
8.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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