Barefoot and Lost (50 page)

     ‘
Jesus
yer fat bastard, have you eaten all yer tucker box already?’

     ‘No,
Karen
was a bit short so I told her I’d stock up here.’

     ‘Yeah
right, I’ll believe yer.’

     ‘
Tom
can you get me twenty Craven’s, do yer want the money now?’

     ‘No
Albert
, when I get back’ll do.’
Tom
’s feet crunch on the gravel, everything goes quiet,

     ‘You okay
Billy
?’

     ‘Yeah
,
I’m
just shitting myself in case he don’t come back.’

     ‘Me too; come
on;
let’s get these boxes sorted out.’

     The train moves several times, once we were convinced it was going without
Tom
, and then it came to a halt, after what seemed forever it reversed again. Through the gap in the door we can see a marker, beside the track, that has 300yrds written on it, we seem to keep passing this marker. Without a watch it is difficult to know how long we have been in the truck, we have been at a standstill for quite a long time. I can hear the crunch of boots on the gravel but they walk on by. The boots are coming back, they stop at our truck, I’m frightened to breathe, ‘You lads okay?’ it’s
Tom

     ‘Yes we’re fine.’

     ‘I’m going to open the door, don’t get out yet stay until you see me get up on the footplate, then jump down, slide the door shut, keep low and run to my van, it’s a lot further away now, just run and don’t stop. I’ll keep
Fred
and
Albert
busy, I just hope the blokes on the other loco don’t see you, okay, got that?’

     ‘Okay
Tom
,’ we both whisper.

     ‘Good, don’t worry, I won’t be getting on until the van comes to me, just stay inside and keep out of sight.’
Tom
walks towards the engine, swinging his lamp as he goes.

    
Tom
jumps on board leans out and waves his lamp, two short blasts on the whistle signals they know he is on the train; with a jerking movement we gather speed. ‘Okay lads time for some tucker.’ Tom pours water from the kettle into a saucepan, drops six, very long, red coloured sausages into the pan, while the sausages are cooking, he cuts six long bread rolls in half lengthwise and butters them, he then spoons three spoonfuls of tea into the tea pot and pours in boiling water. 

     ‘Right, fifteen minutes to tea time, hope you like hotdogs’

     ‘I don’t know what they are but we nearly had them in
Perth
but had hamburgers instead?’

     ‘Never had a ho
tdog? You don’t know what you’
ve been missing; fair dinkum, you have never had a hotdog, what about you Phil, have you had one?’

     ‘I don’t think so what are they?’

     ‘A sausage in a bread roll with mustard;
Jesus
, I can’t believe you’ve never had one.’

     ‘They sound nice but in the war we had rationing, still have on some things, so we didn’t have food like that.’

     ‘What sort of things do you Pom’s eat then?’

     ‘Anything that’s put in front of me, I’ve always been in a
n
‘ome, I’ve never had a choice’  Tom puts a sausage in each roll then spreads mustard over the sausage and hands us one each.

     ‘There yer go, lads get yer laughing gear around them.’ He watches us as we take our first bite,

     ‘Well do they pass muster?’ I’m enjoying mine so much I just manage to mumble, fantastic.
Billy
puts his thumb in the air, giving the hotdog a thumb up.

     ‘I know what you mean
Billy
, but that action means something totally different in
Australia
, very rude in fact, but glad you like them.’

    
Billy and I have shared the bed;
Tom has slept in the arm
chair with his feet up on a box. H
e didn’t look very comfortable but said he often did it and was fine. Sunlight is streaming in through the window, the train is rattling along at a fair speed the telegraph poles are flashing by, and beyond them is nothing, just flat dry land with an occasional stumpy bush.

     ‘
Tom
is all of
Australia
like this?’

     ‘How’d yer mean?’

     ‘Well, nothing, until you come to a town.’

     ‘No
Phil
, some of it is very beautiful, I’ve not seen a lot of it, never been to the east. I’ve never been to
Victoria
or
New South Wales
, in fact not got past
Adelaide
, I went there once, for a week, it was very nice but I couldn’t wait to get home. This is the Nullabor Plain, about a thousand miles of nothing; Nullabor is a word meaning no trees.’

       ‘Is it a desert?’

       ‘No, not as you imagine a desert to be, it is not a lot of drifting sand like the Sahara, it is hot and dry but after the rains it bursts into flower, it can be very beautiful but very dangerous, that is why I said you would die out there.’

      ‘Does anybody live there?’

      ‘Yeah
a few Abo’s and lots of roo’s’    

     How Tom
does this
job I do not know, I would hate it, he has very little to do, it is so boring. He drinks endless cups of tea. I don’t think I have ever eaten so much food in such a short time,
Billy
reckons he has put on a ton. When we stop for water
Tom
walks the length of the train, up one side and back down the other. I asked him why he did it. ‘Just doing a check, that’s all.’ Billy
and I
spend a lot of time standing on the platform at the back of the guards van, we have seen more kangaroos but not as many as that first lot. 

    
Tom
has taught us to play cards, he calls it pontoon. We play for matches, instead of money, which is just as well because, each time I lose all mine. Billy is very good he loves playing, I’d sooner read a book but Tom has none so I have been reading a newspaper that had the bread rolls wrapped in it, and is two weeks old. I’ve been teaching
Billy
and
Tom
to skip which is not easy on a moving train.
Tom
is so big and unfit he cannot manage at all, but he tries. The three of us have been in fits of laughter watching his efforts.

     The train is going very slowly, Tom has told us t
o climb down
to the bottom of the steps each side of the guards van and wait. He has pointed out a tree, on the road that is running alongside the track, we are to wait there until he picks us up, he says it could be an hour
but no longer so
don’t go wandering off. ‘Right, go, see you soon.’ We leap off the train and make our way to the tree.

     We have been waiting no more than half an hour when a lady walks up to us

   
‘Hello Phil, Billy, Tom said you’d be here, my name is Gertrude.
Tom
rang me, he is held up, asked me to meet you and take you to mine.’

     ‘Hello;
Tom
said we have to wait here.’

     ‘I know, but he can’t get here yet to meet you so he has sent me instead. Look, if I wasn’t genuine how do you think I know your names?’

     ‘I suppose so what do you think
Billy
?’

     ‘
Gertrude
, how do you know
Tom
?’

     ‘
Karen
,
Tom
’s wife, is my younger sister.’

     ‘That’s good enough for me come on
Phil
.’

     ‘Now that is settled, please call me Gertie, all my friends do’
   

     A twenty minute walk brings us to a little wooden house wi
th a veranda across the front.
On the left side of the front door the veranda is covered by a fine wire mesh, the other side of the bright red front door is open, on this side a rocking chair with a bright red cushion, is providing a bed for a large ginger cat.

     We follow Gertie up the side of the house and enter through the back door into the kitchen. I’m surprised the door isn’t locked because, as we walked, she had been telling us that she lived alone since her sons had joined the army. One wouldn’t be coming back because he was killed at
El Alamein
. The other one,
John
has gone to live in
Adelaide
.

     ‘If you need the bathroom that is outside on your right, the toilet is at the end of the garden, lounge room is there,’ Gertie points across the passage. ‘The two bedrooms are at the front, mine is on the left, and you’ll be sharing the other one.
Tom
always sleeps on the veranda, now, how’s about a cuppa?’ She asks as she fills a yellow china jug from a tap at the sink and then plugs it into a power point on the wall.

    
Tom
arrives looking very pleased with himself, ‘Sorry not being able to meet you but I have been busy, I have free travel passes for the three of you to
Adelaide
, and a return for you Gert.’

     ‘You jammy sod, how did you manage that?’

     ‘I told my boss in Perth that your grandsons were up for the school holidays, but your son couldn’t get up to collect them so you would have to go down, because they were too young to travel alone and he believed me.’

     ‘But
John
hasn’t got any kids, how can I have grand kids?’

     ‘My boss doesn’t know that.’

     ‘
Thomas
Mooney
you are a deceitful, devious bugger, you should be locked up.’

     ‘I know Gert but help me out here, it is very important to me and even more so for these boys.’

     ‘Okay I’ll do it, when do we go; tomorrow?’

     ‘Monday, we have to get them looking a bit more respectable, what they are wearing is all they have; right boys?’ we both nod.
Tom
must be the kindest man in the whole world if ever I get the chance I will repay him.

     We both now have a shirt, jacket and long trousers as well as the shorts and shirt from Blendoon, we also have clean underwear, mine is too big, but it is better than none.
Billy
has my shoes because his were worn out, and I have a pair of bushman’s riding boots with elastic sides, they are a bit big but are the best shoes I have
ever had. They belonged to Donold
, Gertie’s s
on that was killed in the war.
She asked me to look after them as they were especially handmade by a small boot maker in
Adelaide
. Now I wish I had my shoe cleaning kit that chalky gave me for my birthday.

     Time has flown over the past two days, it is eight in the morning, and we are seated on the train, waiting for it to leave for our two hundred mile journey to
Adelaide
. Gertie is very smart in a dress with little flowers on it. She is wearing a white hat and gloves that come nearly to her elbows. On her lap is a white knitted handbag with brown wooden handles, she looks like she is dressed for church. She is smiling and saying hello to nearly everybody, everyone seems to know her. No one has asked who we are,
and Gertie hasn’t told anyone.
She has asked us not to talk when we can be overheard, as our accent will give us away. 

     On the luggage rack above us is a small suitcase for Gertie, propped up beside it is
a brown shopping bag with our spare clothes in it. Gertie has a suitcase because she is staying two nights with
John
. It is the first time she has visited him since he moved to
Adelaide
and is quite excited about seeing him.

       The train crawls through the town I can see the sea with what looks like a very big, white sandy beach, but Gertie has told me it is a salt lake. I don’t know what that is and I want to ask her more about it, but a man has taken the seat opposite Gertie so I have to be quiet.