CHAPTER FIFTEEN
On the way back, Tim got his brain into overdrive and thought about some as yet uncompleted work. Shane ambled through the door with a loosely rolled swag, looking shagged out. “Good night, hey, Tim.”
“One of the best,” he replied.
Shane washed in the basin. Tim asked, “Have they gone yet?”
“They just left. Sylvia had a bit of a glow and I can see you’re no different,” Shane said, smiling at Tim.
“How did you get along with Wendy?”
“We went soaring, mate. She’s definitely no scrub turkey. Here, roll a joint.” Shane threw Tim a bag. Tim was reluctant, knowing that dope changed his thoughts a little. He rolled one anyway and shared it with Shane.
Cassandra and Brendan drove up and said hello. Tim made more tea and got a couple of chairs from the kitchen.
Tim couldn’t figure out why he was so stoned but the guitar sounded great as he and Shane jazzed up some old country and western while drinking tea. After they had finished mucking around, Tim told them of his plans. “I’ll be going up to the Centre soon,” he said.
“She hasn’t got you by the short and curlies then,” Shane quipped.
“She’s really lovely but ... my business,” Tim said, looking out into the distance.
“Be a long ride,” Shane said, then added, “When are you going?”
“A couple of weeks.”
They talked, laughed and ran over old times for an hour or so before Brendan and Cassandra got up to leave.
“We’re going back in a couple of weeks too,” Cassandra said.
“Me too,” Shane joined in. “I’m going to have a look at Sydney.”
“You won’t like it,” Cassandra said abruptly.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, I know why it doesn’t matter,” Tim said, having a go at Shane.
“You’re worse than me,” Shane retorted.
“Well, there’s heaps of room, Shane,” Cassandra said.
They left Tim by himself and he was pleased to be alone to do a lot of thinking and planning. He cleaned up the kitchen and walked into the bush to water his plants. “A week and a half and you’ll be coming out,” he said to them. On the way back he had a swim, and then changed into some neater clothes to go to town. He went past Aunty May’s. It was after lunch and Shane was sitting outside in the shade with a beer.
“I’ve never seen you with sunglasses on out here,” Shane said.
“It’s only a prop. Got anymore beers?” Tim asked.
“Yeah.”
“Where is everybody?”
“They’ve gone to Bourke to do some shopping. They’ll be back tomorrow,” Shane replied.
“I feel sad about leaving this place so I’m gonna get on the piss. Wanna come?” Tim asked.
“Yeah, bit boring drinking by yourself.”
Shane stopped at the pub while Tim went to the shop-cum-post office-cum-bank to get some cash. He told the shopkeeper he was leaving and she remarked how nice it was having him around. He headed back to the pub and started with a schooner. Caroline gave her usual bright hello. Tim ordered a packet of chips and cigarettes. Shane was in a jovial mood, chatting to the regulars, when Caroline slipped in with, “So.” Tim looked surprised. “You don’t have to say anything, I already know.”
“Did Shane tell you I’m leaving in a couple of weeks?”
“Really, where are you going?” she asked.
“Up to have a look at the Centre,” he answered.
Shane and Tim were throwing the beers down and starting to get drunk. They grabbed a couple of stubbies and walked to the closest part of the river and had a joint. When they got back to the pub, it was obvious to Caroline what had gone on. They were a bit quieter and trying not to look drunk and stoned. An old HD Holden pulled up out front and Hank and a friend he later introduced as Toby walked in.
Hank didn’t waste time and told them his cousin didn’t walk out of the Bourke jail alive. They threw in for a carton and went back to Tim’s. Hank relayed the rest of the story and said the funeral was on Monday. They sang sad songs, funny songs, got angry then sad again. Then they blessed his cousin’s spirit and went to sleep. Next morning they got ready to go to Bourke.
They went to Hank’s cousin’s place and paid their respects. They then went to Shane’s cousin’s house and put their gear in the shed out back. Neither of them felt like drinking but they went to the pub anyway. Tim sipped on a beer as Shane went around the pub saying g’day to all his people, some of which he brought back to introduce. One in particular gave Tim graphic details of the young man’s death and left no doubt that it wasn’t an accidental death. He then described the coppers involved.
Tim watched TV all day Sunday while Shane went to visit his aunties and cousins.
The funeral on Monday was sombre and Tim wanted to cry with everybody else when he saw the grief on the face of the young man’s mother. They didn’t go to the wake and went back home with Cassandra, Brendan and Aunty May.
When they arrived home, they dropped Aunty May at Alfred’s place and she told them she would walk home to get rid of the car stiffness. The rest of them went to Tim’s for a cup of tea and a joint. They left him alone an hour or so later and then he remembered he hadn’t said goodbye to Caroline. He walked out to the front, looked in the direction of Sydney and said out loud, “Goodbye, Caroline, look after yourself,” then went and lay down for a rest.
He didn’t feel much like eating when he woke so he just made a cold meat sandwich and a cup of tea, then went to the river to shrug off the blues of the last few days. He started thinking about Sylvia. Soon he felt his normal rhythm returning.
Tuesday, Tim thought, as he woke and ran his mind over things he had to do. He had breakfast, washed and then went into town. He checked the shelves at the shop and got some jam. He overheard a middle-aged man he recognised as an out-of-town cockie saying, “The black bastards think they can claim our land.” Tim stood stock still and he heard Mrs Bowrie say in return, “It was theirs in the first place. Surely they’re allowed some of it back.”
“Over my dead body. They’ve done nothing for this country.”
Tim was glad he said that and walked straight up to the counter. He ordered a soft drink and while Mrs Bowrie was busy, he commented to the cockie, “Wasn’t the Mabo High Court decision great for blacks in this country? It finally recognises the true owners of this country.” Tim wanted to give him more but the cockie stormed out.
Mrs Bowrie came back and smiled at Tim, “Some people don’t understand what it’s about. Please don’t be harsh on them, they’re only ignorant.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs Bowrie, you more than make up for their ignorance,” Tim said as he picked up his jam and left.
Tim felt good about not having plastered the cockies face all over the shop. That was the first time he confronted someone with that attitude without a clenched fist. To see him storm out made Tim glad. He walked back down the street saying g’day to anyone he saw, with a cheery voice. He headed towards Sherry and Alby’s to say hello and tell them of his plans.
“We’ll miss you. You’ve been a great help with the kids and Alby and everything. What are you gonna do out there?”
“I’ve got a few plans. Nothing concrete. I’ll wait and see.”