Wandering Girl (14 page)

He also smoked a big pipe and when he used to play games with us, like kicking a ball round the field, he looked so funny running around that we rolled over laughing.

Brother turned to me and said, “Come on Billy Boy, we'll go and get your case. So I followed him to the luggage place and then walked over to the utility he had parked a short distance from the station.

Brother opened up the front door of the ute and as I sat in it, I glanced back at the station. I had a sickly feeling inside me, knowing that the same train would be taking me back.

As we drove away Brother Leonard asked me how I was getting on. Did I miss them at the mission? “Yes!” I replied. “And how are the people you work for?” “Alright,” I said.

In those days, not so long ago either, we were not allowed to say anything against our white bosses. So I hid my feelings and told him they were good and I liked it there, just to please him. If only he had known how I felt.

Then as we got going further down the track, Brother filled me in on all the news. The head priest had bought a brand new bus to take the kids out to different towns for school sports and outings. He'd done away with the old cattle truck we once travelled in. He'd also purchased a couple of new cars and this was one of them.

Some of the girls who'd been little in my time were still there, as working girls. Others had returned to their families as their Mums and Dads found out where they had gone to and came to take them back to their real homes. I knew my own Dad wasn't alive, but I still wondered how my mother must be doing, up there in Geraldton. I had learnt that she lived in Geraldton. She once came down to Wandering and tried to visit but I had not been allowed to see her.

“Of course, you know Anne left to work near where you are staying,” he sounded pleased. I said, “Yes, I was glad to see her in town, she gave me all the news about the old place.” Brother asked me how she was coping. I told him, “Good,” and that the people drove us in from our farms on a Friday afternoon to meet one another in town. He thought that was very generous of them.

I relaxed as Brother drove on and we yarned about the good old days. Soon we were at the mission turn-off, which was marked by a sign saying, “To St Francis Xavier Native Mission, Wandering Brook.” Brother slapped his hand on my knee and I jumped in fright. “Billy Boy,” he said, “we'll be home soon.” I wriggled around a bit to look out my window, feeling that lump again in my throat.

How could I have forgotten these familiar places, where as a child I roamed right through the bush? I noticed all our landmarks were still there, and I thought they would never change. We passed a big crucifix out in the bush. I think one of the brothers built that statue, which was about five miles from the mission. It stood there for years.

We used to walk to that crucifix, and it had seemed so far. When we reached it we used to climb up and sit down on the side of it, as the cross was mounted on this wide, round stand, which gave us a lot of room to rest on. We got our breath back there and then we'd go on to a certain clump of gum trees, as the crucifix used to be a sign for our gum trees - a step on the way there.

Further down the track was a big clearing of land, where we used to pick wildflowers, smoke-bush, kangaroo paws. We'd come out of the clearing with the paddocks around us, and the bush left behind.

Now the car passed the dams we swam in. Brother chuckled, “Remember those dams, Billy Boy?” We both laughed to think of those earlier days.

“This is it, Billy Boy, home.” It was about five and still pretty light as the buildings came into view. My heart was pounding as we passed the old working shed down the hill, and the fields where we picked puddings. They were a type of grass with a long stem and a little bundle of seeds on top, which we used to eat. They were lovely.

Then we made our run up the straight road to the mission itself. Brother stopped outside the girls' dormitory - there were kids running in all directions as they crowded around, pushing and shoving. I was shy when I saw their snotty noses all pressed up to the window and their cheesey grins. I put my hand out the window to grab their hands, till the door opened up and made us let go. Just as well, as I felt like my arms were being yanked off.

There were still a lot of familiar faces in the crowd. I said hello to Father and some of the nuns. I was so glad to see them. Sister Headmaris, who had scolded me often in the kitchen, came over and shook my hand. The tears were welling up in my eyes. She said, “How are you, Glenyse, it's good to see you again,” and I noticed that her eyes were glistening too.

Father came over and gave me a pat on the shoulder. I nearly keeled over. “Come, Glenyse, you must be hungry,” said Sister Headmaris. And with kids all around, tugging at me, digging me in the ribs and running away, I followed sister over to the dining room. Then I knew I was home.

It was so good to see them again, but my closest mates, the ones I went to school with, were all gone. They were making lives for themselves somewhere out in the world.

I stayed for three weeks. They didn't want me to work, but I found something to do, helping in the kitchen. It was different now that I'd been out working and come back. I enjoyed being with Sister Headmaris, she was so pleased with me and proud of me, as if I was her own daughter.

It broke my heart to have to say goodbye again, because somehow I knew there was no returning for me.

As it turned out, I didn't go back by train after all. Instead a couple of young teachers from the mission gave me a lift, since they were going through to Bunbury. I just sat in their car and cried all the way. They couldn't understand why I was so unhappy, and I couldn't tell them. I was real
winyarn
at going back.

PREPARED

When I arrived at Ridgeway, she was waiting by the bus stop to pick me up. I went back to playing a dummy's life again.

I found it hard within myself to get used to the place again, after being surrounded by so many friends. My heart wasn't in my work. The only thing that kept my spirits up was the chance to meet Horsey, who I couldn't wait to see on that following Friday, to tell her all the news from home.

The journey into town was the same as usual but to break the monotony, I commented to the boss about the scenery - how beautiful and fresh everything looked, the wildflowers growing on the sides of the road and the hills. She made no reply but I did notice that she looked up.

We stopped at our usual meeting place, at an old school bus stop, and my friend was standing nearby, with her boss.' They exchanged a few words then told us we had an hour to do our business. We were to meet them back here at the cars.

Our employers trotted off. Me and Horsey linked arms and headed for the milkbar, laughing and talking. I was so glad when I saw my mate. I told her that I had gone home. She was feeling like me, real homesick.

Although she hadn't been at the job as long as I, she was beginning to resent the place and the people she worked for. Our feelings were mutual. I told her how my holiday went and who was still there, what Sisters and Brothers were still there, and that I didn't want to leave to come back here again. We agreed that we couldn't stand it any more.

Our friend, the owner of the shop, was happy to see me again and said she had missed me on those two Fridays I was due into town. When I told her I'd been back home to see all my mates, she said, “That's nice for you. I'll bet Mrs Bigelow missed you though.” I said that she must have, as I had double the workload since getting back.

Horsey and I looked out of her shop window and asked, “How come all these coloured lights and paper were hanging off the posts in the street?” There seemed to be a lot more people everywhere. She was surprised. “Didn't your bosses tell you girls? There's a fair here on Saturday.”

We asked her what a fair was, as our minds were vague on that. “It's like a fun day, where people who make cakes and jams have stalls to sell them and get prizes for the best. Plenty of merry-go-rounds and you can win prizes too on the chocolate wheel. People travel from as far away as Busselton and Bunbury to come here with their families. It's a family day, you can have lots of fun.”

Horsey just said, “Oh - I wonder if we'll be going.” I grabbed my mate by the arm and pulled her towards a table. “Come on, me and you sit here and have this drink. Don't think about the fair. We'll be working flat out.”

As we sat there looking at one another, a thought struck me and I asked Anne if her boss made jam, like my boss. “Yeah,” she said, “why are you asking?” “Well, they might take us to help carry their stuff.”

“Oh don't talk silly,” she grumbled, but I was hard to convince. I jumped up and grabbed her by the arm again. “Let's go!” Horsey Anne had a shocked look on her face, wondering what I was up to. I called out to our friend behind the counter, “See you later.” She seemed astonished, “Oh, you're off already, girls?” I yelled, “Yes - we've got business to do!”

As we went out the door I pushed Anne along, telling her to walk fast to the bank. I never answered her curious questions. At the bank I asked her, “You got your bank book with you?” It was in her handbag. I pushed her, still wondering, inside and up to the counter.

A man with a real business look about him asked if he could help us and I eagerly told him. “Yes, we would like to get some money out, we're going to the fair.” My friend gave me a dig in the ribs. The man looked at us sternly and asked in his deep voice, “How much?”

“How much have I got?” I replied, as I had no idea. He looked in our books and said I had fifty pounds and Anne forty. So I asked for forty and Horsey asked for twenty. As he went away to get our money, and people walked up and down, my friend whispered to me that we'd get into trouble for running away. I giggled and hit her on the back. “As long as our bosses make jam and cakes we'll be going, can't you see? They'll need us to help them. You know yourself they won't carry their own stuff.”

She sort of laughed and blurted, “Choo — but if we don't go, what about this money?” I reckoned we could hang on to it and spend it next shopping day. We were so busy whispering and laughing, when a deep voice brought us to attention, “Would you like to come and get your passbooks and cash?”

We stuffed it in our bags and as we went out the doors I said to Horsey, “At least we are prepared, we've got money. You and I could have a ride on the merry-go-round!” We went along laughing and getting excited.

While we sat on the bus stop waiting for our bosses, I told her not to give any signs away that we knew about the fair. “We'll just carry on in our normal way and do our jobs. We'll say prayers tonight. God will help us.”

When the bosses turned up, I tugged at Horsey's dress and she gave me a nudge in the back, then we went to our cars and drove our separate ways back to the farms.

I crept into bed that night after my jobs feeling a little downhearted, as she had never mentioned the fair.