‘I’VE NEVER SEEN anything like it Janey,’ Flick said with a shake of her head. ‘I hope I never cross swords with you in a courtroom.’
Everyone was so stunned, there really did not seem to be much to say.
Tich quietly collected the pendants from Bella and Buster. Sitting at the table, she slid the pair of them together. Then she took the one Big Al had thrown on the table, and eased it into place. The three pendants locked together, holding each other in place. There was the whole design, etched into the shell all those years ago by Old Jirroo.
The circle was closed.
Jirroo’s bones were interred two days later in a plot next to his daughter Maisie, the little sister of Bella and Buster, and mother of the four Jirroo brothers. At Buster’s request, Jimmy brought his guitar to the funeral and sang his Jiir song.
The clan spends most of the next week at the shack and the beach. It seems more precious, more beautiful than ever. Sal is with them virtually all the time. Graham and Flick come and go, excusing themselves from time to time on the grounds that they want to do a little bit of relaxing by the pool on this so-called holiday.
Little Joe and his brothers keep on ducking off too. Jimmy seems to know something about what they are up to, but he won’t tell.
The timber platform over the well is restored, and becomes a music stage for the kids again. There are feasts of bluebone and salmon, cooked on the fire at the beach. Micky even catches a bani that goes into the coals.
Janey sings her Eagle Beach song while it cooks.
Sun’s a-setting, full moon rising
Time to feast now at Eagle Beach
Fish curry bubbles in Mimi’s big pot
Bani ’n’ salmon cook in the coals
The smells on the breeze bring the kids running
The sight of it makes stomachs growl
Crickets singing, guitars strumming
Nights are sweet down at Eagle Beach
Only this time she doesn’t bother with the final verses.
The same evening Buster leads Andy and Dancer towards the headland. They walk in silence for a minute or two, until Buster says to Dancer, ‘We’ll be dancin’ for you next summer lad. You’re more than ready to go through the law.’
Dancer glances up at Andy with a quiet, proud smile. A sea eagle circles once above Jiir rock, then, with powerfully beating wings, flies in a straight line north.
Buster puts a hand on Dancer’s shoulder and murmurs, ‘I reckon that might be old Jiir’s messenger bird, takin’ the word back to Manburr up in Garnet Bay.’
Back at Jirroo Corner the For Sale sign disappears from the vacant block and Andy’s truck is restored to its old parking spot. Andy and the boys prowl around making plans.
One evening Buddy goes over to Bella’s house and drags Teoh Tom over to join them. Andy shows Tom where they are planning to build their place, near the front of the block, with a big shed down the side for the truck. ‘We were wondering Tom. What would you reckon if we put up a cabin here at the back? It’s nice and quiet, and Bella’s place is just over the fence there.’
Tom looks puzzled, and scratches his head. ‘What for?’
‘For you, you silly bugger! Would you like to live here on our block?’
A big grin slowly breaks over Tom’s face. He actually jumps in the air and clicks his heels together. Andy and the boys collapse with laughter.
One morning after Flick and Graham drop her off, Sal says that her parents want to talk to them all that night and, no, she hasn’t got any idea why, she’s hardly seen them the last couple of days.
Graham deposits an esky when they arrive at Jirroo Corner that evening.
‘What’s going on Dad?’ Sal asks.
‘Just wait my girl.’ Graham is clearly bursting with some piece of news.
Once the whole clan is gathered around the backyard table, he starts. ‘Ladies and gentlemen.’ Flick rolls her eyes. ‘Friends. This is certainly the most interesting holiday my little family has ever had and, after a slightly shaky start, absolutely the most enjoyable.
‘I am merely a banker as you know. Very lucrative, lots of travel. All that sort of stuff. However, I’ve always had a certain yen, you might call it, to do something for myself, rather than for the directors and the shareholders.’
Flick cuts across his speech. ‘Oh just get on with it will you.’
Graham grins hugely. ‘I’ve set up a syndicate with a couple of investor friends from Perth. Ladies and gentlemen, you are looking at the new owner of the Bay View Hotel. Well, one third owner to be precise. And chairman of the syndicate.’
Jaws drop around the table. Sal squeals and leaps into Graham’s arms.
Felicity delves into the esky and pulls out a stack of plastic glasses and two bottles of champagne, which she deposits on the table. ‘Bubbly anyone? There’s pizzas and fish and chips and God knows what else in the car. I think Graham went over the top. Tonight’s on us.’
The corks are popped and everyone takes a glass and drinks a toast, though Andy sticks to his lemonade. The evening rolls into the night, with Graham boasting shamelessly about his brilliant negotiating skills putting the deal together. ‘Big Al was muttering something about the Andaman Islands the last time I saw him,’ he laughs. ‘Apparently his cruiser weighed anchor at first light this morning, and was last seen heading north-west.’
Towards the end of the night, when the guitars have come out, Graham looks over at Ally. ‘I’ve had my eye on you this week Ally Jirroo. And your daughter here has told Flick and I all the stories about what an efficient manager you are for the Dreamers.
‘We’re flying up a stand-in manager for the Bay View. He’s arriving tomorrow. But we’re going to have to either advertise, or train someone up. Any chance you’d be interested in the position?’
Ally only takes about five seconds to recover from her shock. ‘You bet I would.’
‘Good. Consider yourself hired. We’re flying back to Perth in three days. I believe Janey’s on the same plane. Now I was thinking that the best way to let everybody in Broome know that the place is under new management would be to have a concert out there in the garden bar. You know, a few speeches and that sort of thing, but basically just a concert, so everyone can have a good time.
‘It would be really nice if we could do it before we fly out, which means it would have to be the day after tomorrow. I’ve got no idea where you could get bands at such short notice, but do you think you could organise something like that in two days? As your first job, so to speak?’
Ally grins at him. ‘I’ll do my best.’
UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT, reads the banner hanging over the Bay View’s entrance as the crowds pour in.
It is just as it used to be, except Ally has had to organise an extra touch at the last minute. She has got Gus to set up the big tarpaulin over the platform as a precaution. Out over Roebuck Bay lightning is flickering in the distance, and storm clouds are forming. No-one can remember rain coming this late in the year before, but everyone is hoping, whether it wrecks the concert or not.
Graham comes up and takes the microphone. No-one takes too much notice of his speech because they all know the news already, but they whistle and cheer anyway. They go wild though when he introduces the first act of the night. ‘Ladies and gentlemen … the Barefoot Kids!’
The five of them file on. Janey takes centre stage, Bella’s pendant glinting on her chest. She looks up at the balcony from which Big Al used to oversee proceedings. There, all in a row, leaning on the railing, are the four brothers in their Dreamers outfits, then Mary and Ally, Micky, Bella, Buster and Teoh Tom, and Sal and Flick, who puts an arm around Graham’s waist as he bounds up to join them.
Janey nods at Jimmy, and away they go.
There are some arguments afterwards about whether or not it was better than their performance at the town oval concert. Less passionate perhaps. More joyous certainly. They do Jimmy’s Jiir song as their finale. As they end the final verse there is a big flash of lightning and a crash of thunder.
Everyone has come down from the balcony. As the rest of the kids do their bows and the crowd cheers, Janey and Little Joe have a hurried conversation.
Janey returns to the microphone and holds her hands up for quiet. The tears are running down her face as she speaks. ‘Listen folks. We don’t know how much longer this is going to last — it’s a bit dicey playing in the rain. But I’d like to introduce the Dreamers.
‘You’ve all heard them before, but you haven’t heard this song. Neither have I — I only just found out about it now. My uncle, Little Joe Jirroo, wrote this after him and Buster were up at Garnet Bay for a while. He just asked me to say for any of you who don’t know, ngaba means water. Rain. Life.
‘Everybody, please welcome the Dreamers.’
Little Joe stills the crowd this time. The four brothers stand stock still.
Buster steps out from behind a stack of speakers. He is shirtless. His torso is painted and he holds a boomerang in each hand. Slowly he brings them together. Tuk. The boomerangs start to tap an insistent beat.
Little Joe plays a lilting melody in counterpoint to the boomerangs. He leans into the microphone and begins the song in his husky voice.
Hot weather’s here, it’s the time of the year when the heat waves are starting to dance.
Mercury rising, millibars falling, no time for a shaky romance
Sweat on the foreheads of babies, drifting in dreamland
While into the pindan those old men are dancing a raindance
The brothers join in to harmonise on the chorus, which is a soft, elongated, repeated chant of the single word.
Ngaba, ngaba, ngaba, ngaba …
The rhythm, bass and drums kick in as, to the accompaniment of another thunder clap, Little Joe begins the second verse.
Anticipation, ganada waving goodbye to hot hungry days
Pressure down in King Sound, drifting across Roebuck Bay
See the lightning bolt, hear the thunder roll, she’s acoming
While into the pindan those children are dancing a raindance
The first, heavy drops fall on the crowd as Little Joe waves the kids up onto the stage. Sal scurries up with them. Little Joe points at Graham and Flick, and they head up too. The brothers chant the chorus again, stronger, more insistent now.
Ngaba, ngaba
Ngaba, ngaba
Willy willy, going silly, only the rainman can see
That eastern horizon bringing that ngaba to me
Janey joins Little Joe at the central microphone and leans in to sing with him on the chorus.
Ngaba, ngaba
Saturation, ganada waving goodbye to hot hungry days
Old dogs and children dancing those heat blues away
Now the rain is pelting down, drenching the delirious audience. They are all up there, every one of the Jirroos and Pearsons, with Eddie’s rhythm guitar driving relentlessly. They are all shouting it out at the tops of their voices in a triumphant roar, and the audience is with them. Dancer and Buster are stomping away in a dance, laughing at each other.
Little Joe starts calling, in between each repetition of the line, ‘We’re raindancing!’
Ngaba, ngaba
‘We’re raindancing!’
Ngaba, ngaba
Over and over, on and on it goes, with the rain pouring down and the thunder roaring, until at last Little Joe looks over at Buster. The repetitions grow softer. Buster weaves to the rhythm at the front of the stage. Behind him the kids line up, still singing, arm in arm. And behind them, the rest of the Jirroos and the Pearsons.
The instruments are silent now. It is just the voices, singing
Ngaba, ngaba
Buster brings his boomerangs together, and starts a rattle that gets slower and slower.
Tuk, tuk, tuk … tuk … tuk … tuk … tuk …… tuk.
There is one final tuk.
Then only the sound of the rain.
