Tears of the Moon (65 page)

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Authors: Di Morrissey

BOOK: Tears of the Moon
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‘Yes, captain. We no like. No good for anybody.’

Tyndall looked around at the earnest, concerned faces watching him.

‘What we do now, captain?’

Tyndall took a deep breath and slowly explained the situation as the Australian Government saw it—that they were now considered enemy aliens and they would have to be arrested and sit out the war in gaol and internment camps.

There was a soft murmur but no one stirred. Tyndall looked around at the faces of the men he had known for so many years. They, too, had chased the same dreams, fought the same battles against the dangers of the ocean, above and below the sea, celebrated each other’s good fortune and festivals. They were as much a part of this tightly knit community as anyone else in Broome.

Takahashi bowed to Tyndall. ‘We understand,
captain. Tell Mr Magistrate and the Sergeant we go as he say.’ Straightening up, he gave a rueful half-smile. ‘Too bad. Good shell now.’

The gaol and adjoining ground were crowded with Japanese divers, crews, workers and businessmen—some with families. Their children had been born in Australia and in the sweltering humid summer heat, conditions in the small gaol were harsh. The Japanese overflowed into flimsy temporary dwellings next to the makeshift compound that they helped to erect.

The rest of the townsfolk rallied and the women set up a roster system to take homecooked meals and small practical gifts to the prison to make them comfortable.

The RM, formally attired even to his plumed hat, had addressed the assembled ‘prisoners’ and had come away humbled at their patience and tolerance. He allowed regular shopping trips into town and assured them they would be looked after as well as possible until they were sent to the internment camps.

As the luggers returned, groups were let out of prison to help pull them up on the beach and bed them down for the wet season.

Ahmed shook his head in dismay as he and Tyndall sat on the small deck of the foreshore camp quarters. ‘Broome going to sleep till war over I think, tuan.’

In Olivia and Tyndall’s world, the war was overshadowed by their concern for Maya, who had caught
influenza. Olivia cared for her, while the doctor made calls each day. Tyndall sat by her bed, but found Maya’s breathing difficulties, persistent cough and obvious discomfort distressing.

‘Isn’t there something more that can be done for her?’ he asked Doctor Haynes.

‘She isn’t responding well. I think we should put her in the hospital for some tests,’ he suggested.

Maya lay in the hospital bed staring at the lush greenery outside the window. She felt as if a great boulder was crushing her chest, it was painful to take a breath and her energy simply seemed to melt away moment by moment. She turned towards the door as Doctor Haynes came in. One glance at his face and she briefly closed her eyes, knowing the worst. Opening her eyes, Maya gave him a comforting smile. ‘Cheer up, Doctor Haynes.’

‘I should be the one cheering you up.’

‘I don’t think you have good news for me.’ It was a calm statement, not a question.

‘No, Maya. We’ve got the results of the chest X-ray. You have tuberculosis.’ He took her hand and went on. ‘That means careful nursing, good food and plenty of rest.’

‘I don’t have to go away?’

‘Not for the moment. It’s complicated by the influenza. Let’s just take matters one day at a time. But it’s best you stay here.’

Tyndall and Olivia were devastated by the news. ‘Would she be better off in a sanatorium? Though
I couldn’t bear her to be far away from us,’ said Tyndall.

‘She’s too sick, John.’

They spent every possible moment they could at her bedside, but despite the care, Maya seemed to fade before their eyes, day by day. Finally she whispered to them that she wanted to be moved home.

Maya seemed much happier in her own room but her health continued to deteriorate. Olivia suggested they send Georgie a cable.

One evening Olivia went in to sit with Maya, who had been picking at her supper. Maya opened her eyes to see Olivia sitting by the bed doing her embroidery. ‘Olivia … ?’

Olivia put down her needle and took off her glasses. ‘Yes, pet?’

Maya’s thin arms lifted and she pulled the shell pendant necklace over her head. The effort tired her and Olivia leaned over and smoothed Maya’s face. ‘What is it, Maya dear?’

Maya spoke in a soft but firm voice. ‘I want you to have this. Keep it safe. Pass it on to Georgie.’ Maya pressed the shell pendant on the twine necklace into her hand.

‘Keep it safe, Olivia,’ Maya repeated.

Olivia was about to protest that Maya keep it on, but realised the gesture obviously meant a lot to her. ‘I’ll hang it on my pearl necklace.’ She fingered the carved shell. ‘ “Tears of the moon” Minnie called the pearls … sounds so sad, but so beautiful.’

Maya gave a little smile. ‘I always think of them as tears of joy. Pearls are so beautiful and so special.
They symbolise much to our people … ’ her voice faded and she closed her eyes.

Later Olivia showed Tyndall the pendant. ‘She wants me to pass it on to Georgie … ’

‘That seems a very final sort of gesture. Have we heard from Georgie?’

‘No. She appears to have moved and hasn’t left a forwarding address.’

Soon Maya developed pneumonia. Tyndall sat beside her, holding her fine small hand, telling her stories of the old days, though she seemed unaware, drifting into a nether world where her rasping breath, gurgling lungs and cough dominated.

The decision of whether to move her or not was a difficult one. But in brief lucid moments Maya shook her head and pointed to the view of the bay, indicating she wished to stay.

‘We couldn’t do much more for her in the hospital,’ said Doctor Haynes. ‘If she wishes to stay here, then I think it best. Call me, however, if she experiences any severe difficulties. We’re doing all we can.’

It was a bright, sunny morning, with a breeze from the bay drifting damply, softly, into Maya’s room. Tyndall had taken his tea and toast to eat with Maya. Olivia stood on the verandah, lost in time and thought. Times when life was bright, cheerful and hopeful seemed lost in a fog. The war was closing in but still seemed far away and far removed from the small battle being waged by Maya.

Sighing she turned and walked into Maya’s room.

Tyndall sat on the bed tenderly smoothing his daughter’s hair, murmuring quietly as he cradled her in his arms. He looked at Olivia with stricken eyes. ‘She’s gone, Olivia. My girl … just slipped away.’

The fall of Singapore brought the war to Australia’s doorstep. There was much activity as the Navy requisitioned luggers and there was talk of the white families being evacuated.

Orders came to move the Japanese south to the internment camp.

They assembled at the wharf, a casual gathering, the Japanese milling about amongst their families and Broome residents. Olivia and Tyndall joined the Mettas for the departure, helping hand out packets of home-baked biscuits and small mementoes to the men who had been such a vital part of Broome’s life. When the ship sailed, the Japanese hanging over the railing waved energetically to the crowd who waved back, and tears were shed on both sides.

Tyndall called into the Customs House where the officer commanding the naval unit had set up base. Tyndall, smartly turned out in his pearling master’s uniform, stood before the young officer. ‘Just wanted to offer my services, coastal patrol work perhaps. I know these waters very well.’

The lieutenant took in the tall, suntanned older man before him. ‘We appreciate the offer, Captain Tyndall, but the navy has matters in hand, I believe. However should something come up where we can call on your expertise … ’ he was polite but dismissive.

But Tyndall was not so easily rejected. Late the following evening he returned from the Lugger Bar looking pleased with himself.

‘I’ve got an assignment … going bush for a bit. Going to train a band of warriors.’

‘Whatever do you mean, warriors!’ Olivia couldn’t keep the amusement out of her voice.

‘Sergeant MacIntyre and a bloke from “native affairs” as he calls it have come up with a scheme to save us should the Japs land on this strip of coast.’

‘Go on.’ Olivia was non-committal.

‘Well, it’s a plan to train the natives in coastal surveillance and dealing with the enemy.’

He began undressing as Olivia sat up in bed. ‘Do they seriously believe we might be invaded?’

‘The Government thinks a Jap invasion is possible. They aren’t that far to the north of us, Olivia. And just how are we going to protect all our uninhabited coastline? They can’t patrol it adequately. So some smart bureaucrat has suggested we train the Aborigines. Just the top warriors. They’ve got two dozen hand-picked from round this area. I’m to help train them in how to handle a gun, hand-to-hand combat, that sort of thing. Though they know that better than us. Basically, we’re to spread the word among the tribal people so if by chance the Japanese came ashore they’d be tracked and attacked.’

‘Are the Aborigines willing to do this?’

‘Well, the mob from Blue Mud Bay in Arnhem Land are already at it up the top end. The brass think the nor’-west coast should set up the same thing.’ Tyndall lay back on the pillows and folded his arms
under his head. ‘They have bush knowledge, skill with spears, can appear out of the night like a shadow and you’d never hear them. With proper weapons they’ll be ace soldiers.’

Olivia felt everything closing in on her. Why did men find such stimulation in the call of war? Hadn’t they learned from the last deadly fiasco?

She turned on her side and Tyndall, sensing her melancholy, took her in Jus arms. ‘Don’t worry, it probably won’t happen. We just have to be prepared, that’s all.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

T
yndall and Olivia stood in the narrow hallway outside their respective offices. ‘Two small rooms upstairs in town and a bunch of ramshackle sheds down the foreshore. All that remains of Star of the Sea. Not much to show for what was a pretty hot enterprise in its day, eh?’ remarked Tyndall. There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice.

‘John, we have a lot to show for it and you know it. Think of the friends, the adventures, the money we’ve made—and lost. Admit it, you wouldn’t change it’

‘Some things I’d change,’ he said sadly, taking Olivia’s hand.

‘We can’t bring them back, darling.’ Olivia squeezed beside him as they went down the tiny staircase. ‘Maybe it’s time we turned our backs on it all. Went back to my place in Perth.’

‘I’m not a gardener,’ he snapped.

‘Well, you could plot out your next move for after
the war. Look at cultured pearls again.’ They stepped out into the street where Ahmed waited. The three of them gazed up at the window where the sign
STAR OF THE SEA PEARL CO.,
so faded now, could barely be read.

‘I feel like putting a match to the whole place,’ said Tyndall.

‘No luggers, just the schooner; no work, no luck. What we do now, tuan?’

‘Let’s go home and have a Star of the Sea wake,’ said Olivia. ‘Mollie’s granddaughter cooks up a great curry. Let’s round up Mabel and Toby.’

Ahmed looked pleased at the idea and Tyndall somewhat mollified.

They drove to the Mettas’ house and as they got to the verandah Mabel came bustling out looking distressed. ‘Oh, my dears, isn’t it dreadful. What is going to happen to us all … ’

‘Mabel, what’s wrong?’

She dabbed at her face with the edge of her sari. ‘Haven’t you heard, it’s on the wireless … Darwin … it’s been bombed!’

‘My God! How bad is it?’ gasped Olivia.

Tyndall tensed. ‘Olivia, forget lunch. I’d better go see what’s afoot. We could be next.’

‘Broome too far for Jap planes, tuan,’ said Ahmed, looking worried nonetheless.

‘Come inside, Olivia. John, Toby has gone to the Conti.’

Ahmed trotted through the garden beside Tyndall, who called over his shoulder, ‘I’ll be at the Residence, then the Conti.’

Later, settled in the Lugger Bar, the conversation humming like a swarm of bees, Tyndall told Toby of the latest plans. ‘White families here are to be evacuated. The pearling masters will have to club together and pay off the Malay and Asian crews. The Aborigines in town are going to Beagle Bay mission along with the Sisters from the St John of God Convent.’

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