Flight of the Jabiru (20 page)

“That's so sad,” Lara said, finding it incomprehensible. She'd never heard anything like it before.

“One family here had their daughter taken from them ten years ago. It was a real miracle, but Jiana returned about six months ago. She's a lovely, bright girl, and she's had some education. Apparently she was put into service when she was about twelve. She was working for a well-to-do family in Tennant Creek. Her employer ran a mine and she claims he was a hard man. His wife treated her fairly, though.”

“How did she find her way back here?”

“She said she had memories of her life beside the billabongs, so when she was sixteen she plucked up the courage to run away. Somehow, she made her way to the Mary River and eventually, here. It was the most joyous day for her mother, but Jiana hasn't settled back into her family's way of life. She's been gone too long and is torn between two worlds, which is quite sad. Now you see why the Aborigines had a strong reaction when they saw you.”

“Yes, of course. I told them I was there for the children, to educate them, so I can see why they thought the worst.”

“I would've gone with you to the Aboriginal settlement if I'd known you were going.”

“I really want to help the children, Betty, so if you would go with me to explain that, I'd appreciate it.”

“You have to know, Lara, even if the parents trust you, getting the children to attend school every day will be a real uphill battle. They are used to their freedom and they live a different way.”

“You leave that to me, Betty.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

At ten o'clock on Saturday morning, Betty decided she would visit the Aboriginal community. She'd been up since before dawn kneading bread dough and feeding her livestock. When the bread was in the oven, she milked the cows, collected chicken eggs, and then began her household chores, all before her family had opened their eyes, including her lazy husband.

The busiest time in the store was between eight and nine o'clock, so the rush had passed. All she needed was for Colin to watch the store for an hour. But as usual, he was harder to find than a crocodile with a sense of humor.

“Where's your father?” she barked at Robbie in frustration when he came into the store to get bait for fishing. She looked him over and cringed. He'd been dressed decently and washed before eight, but he now looked like somebody else's child. He'd changed into shorts she thought she'd passed down to Ronnie, and a shirt with no buttons, and he wasn't wearing shoes. “How many times do you have to be told to keep your feet covered? You never know what you could tread on down by the billabong.”

Robbie mumbled something about the Aborigines not wearing shoes.

“You're not an Aborigine,” Betty shot back crossly. “How did you get covered in mud? Never mind,” she snapped, suspecting he'd been digging for bait worms. “If you get a discarded fish hook in your foot you'll know about it, my boy.”

She knew she was taking her bad mood out on her son, when he was not to blame, but she couldn't help it. She'd looked in the pub for Colin, but even Monty had been absent, which meant the two of them were most likely together, and up to no good.

“He's out the back of the pub with Uncle Monty,” Robbie said.

“What are they up to?” Betty suspected the two of them were deliberately keeping out of sight, which meant she was right. They couldn't wait until lunchtime to crack their first coldie.

“Dad said he didn't want me hanging around because he's having a meeting,” Robbie said as he helped himself to fish bait from the fridge and then headed for the door with his fishing pole.

“Make sure you stay on the jetty,” Betty called after him. “And look out for your brothers, especially Richie.”

Betty closed the till, intent on surprising her husband. That he was never available when she needed him always made her ropeable. She was determined he'd get a piece of her mind, even if it showed him up in front of his mates.

“Meeting, indeed!” she grumbled as she pushed through the door, almost colliding with Joyce Castle, who claimed to have forgotten to pick up baking soda and sugar when she'd been to the store earlier. She had Sarah in tow, who was nagging for ice cream. Betty told Joyce that Colin would serve her shortly.

“Where is he?” Joyce asked when she couldn't see him in the store.

“Taking a meeting, apparently,” Betty said mockingly. “That's what the men are calling their early morning drinking sessions. You've got to give it to them. They're creative!”

“Peewee is fishing on the jetty with Harry and Tom,” Joyce said proudly. She was the boss in their house, and she liked the other women in town to know it. Betty liked Joyce, but it annoyed her that she insisted on ‘bragging' about her well-behaved husband.

Cross with Colin, irritated with Joyce, and fed up with the heat and so much work in general, Betty was still mumbling under her breath when she marched through the pub, towards the back door. When she reached the door, which was ajar, she stopped to take in the scene outside. To her surprise, Charlie, Errol and Don McLean were with Monty and Colin and they all looked very serious. Betty's first thoughts were that the pub must've run dry, especially as no one was drinking. She imagined their ‘meeting' was about who would make the run to the city to fetch a keg. As Colin and Errol were the only two residents with vehicles, Betty surmised it was going to be a short meeting, the outcome determined by nothing more complicated than flipping a coin.

The men were standing in a half circle, fifteen feet from the back door. Betty was about to barge outside; primed to blast Colin, but something about the men's demeanor stopped her. Then she heard Monty say something quite unexpected.

“If you don't help me dig the shelter, then you can't join me in it when the bombs start dropping. So who's in, and who's out?”

There was silence as the men glanced at each other, dubious about Monty's dire prediction of their fate.

Betty didn't know what to think. Everyone had discussed the war in Europe and what they thought the Japs might do, but she hadn't really thought they'd bomb Australia.

“I'm not wholly convinced we're going to be bombed, so all this work could be for nothing,” Colin suggested.

“I told you what's been written in the papers lately, Colin,” Monty said urgently. Colin didn't read well, so Monty often enlightened him on interesting news over a cold beer. “If the Lands office and the Administrator are worried, then we should be, too.”

“But Australia has always seen itself as safe, due to its isolation.”

“It's true that Australia feels a long way from Europe and the fighting over there, but if the Japs were to invade Malaya, Singapore, or even New Guinea, and there's talk they might, then the isolation has gone,” Monty said. “If they wanted to attack us from any of those places, then they'd be here before any military from down south could come to our rescue, not that there are many soldiers to spare. They're all in Europe, fighting.”

Betty had heard enough to be alarmed. She stepped outside. “Aren't there enough Aussie and American soldiers in Darwin to protect us?”

Monty looked worried. “I'm afraid not, Betty. And the fact that the Americans are here, building a big armament, is a good reason for the Japs to attack. If they were to surprise us by air, they'd obliterate this place.”

Betty paled at the thought.

“Stop frightening my wife, Monty,” Colin said protectively.

“She should know the facts,” Monty retaliated.

“So you are serious about this bomb shelter you want to build,” Betty said. She could see that Monty had marked it out with stones and it was a good size.

“Dead serious. A lot of people in the city are digging trenches, apparently. I hear the Chinese were the first to start, and they know all about war.”

“If there's a serious threat and we're not surprised, then I'm sure the citizens of Darwin will be told to evacuate before we're bombed,” Don added. “But of course there'll be some who'll choose to stay.”

“Evacuate!” Betty said in alarm.

“I'm sure it won't come to that, Betty,” Colin said, trying to calm his wife.

“How many people would your shelter hold?” Betty asked Monty.

“At a push, we could probably squeeze all the locals in,” Monty said. “There isn't that many of us.”

“And would a shelter really save our lives if this place were bombed?”

“It would, as long as the shelter didn't take a direct hit, and that's unlikely to happen.”

“Then Colin will help you dig it,” Betty offered.

Colin's eyes widened. “I will!”

“Yes, you will,” Betty said determinedly “You've certainly got the time and I want our kids to be safe from the Japs. Meanwhile, I want you to watch the store because I have an important errand to run. I'll be about an hour, so I'll be back to make lunch.” With that, Betty turned to go. “And don't keep the customers waiting,” she called over her shoulder.

“We'll begin work right away,” Monty said to the men. “I've got a couple of shovels. You can use one, Colin, as I don't suppose you have one of your own.”

Colin mumbled something about never needing one.

“If the rest of you could bring shovels that would be handy,” Monty said. “We'll get some of the other men to help, too.”

“Tomorrow's Sunday,” Colin said. Even though it was the dry season, he was still appalled at the idea of digging and working up a sweat. “We can't work on a Sunday.”

Monty rolled his eyes. “You're not religious and you're not attending church, so what difference does it make?”

“You know it says in the bible that no work should be done on the Sabbath.”

“How would you know what it says in the bible?” Monty countered impatiently.

“Everyone knows that it says that in the bible,” Colin stated indignantly. “I'd better go and watch the store or Betty will have my hide.”

“Are you there, Lara?” Betty called from the back door of the rectory.

“In here,” Lara shouted from the living room where she'd been reading after doing some morning chores. She put down her book and went through to the kitchen where she was startled to see Betty in the doorway with three Aboriginal women behind her.

“Lara, I'd like you to meet the Billingjana sisters, Nellie and Jinney.” She gestured to the eldest two women, who looked about forty. “They have children of school age. And this is Jiana Chinmurra. I think I mentioned that Jiana recently returned to the community. Ladies, this is our new teacher, Miss Lara Penrose.”

The two older women nodded shyly, but Jiana spoke. “It's nice to meet you, Miss Penrose,” she said politely. She was a nice looking girl with a much lighter complexion than the other Aboriginal women. She was quite tall with her hair neatly secured in a bun, and she was wearing a nice dress that was clean and ironed. While the women had nothing on their feet, Jiana was wearing sandals.

“Hello, ladies,” Lara smiled at all three of them. She noticed the women were eagerly trying to see past Betty, into the kitchen. “Please come in,” she said, drawing them all out of the sun.

“I've been out to the community, Lara,” Betty said in the kitchen. “I've explained who you are and that you'd like more pupils, and Nellie and Jinney expressed a desire to meet you.”

“That's wonderful. Would you like to see the school room?” Lara asked the women, but they appeared to be still taking in every detail in the kitchen, so they didn't reply.

“I think they just wanted to meet you,” Betty supplied. The two sisters still hadn't said anything, so Lara wasn't sure how much English they spoke or understood.

“Right!” Lara smiled at the women. “Will I have more students on Monday?” she asked eagerly. “The bigger the class numbers, the more government funding we'll get.”

The women's mood instantly changed and they began jabbering between themselves in the Aboriginal language while giving Lara angry glares. They then threw up their hands and headed out the back door, clearly upset. Jiana remained.

“What just happened?” Lara glanced from Jiana to Betty.

“You shouldn't have mentioned the government, Lara,” Betty said in frustration. She followed the women outside to see if she could calm them down.

Lara was dismayed. “I didn't realize I was saying something I shouldn't have,” she said to Jiana. “I just meant if I had bigger numbers in school, then we'd get more money from the government, which means better teaching aids and books for the children. It's a good thing.”

“They are sensitive about the government,” Jiana said with sadness.

“Do you think they'll come back when Betty explains what I meant?”

Betty poked her head through the door. “Not today,” she said. “You do realize that if you enroll Aboriginal students you'll have to give them white surnames to protect them,” she added.

“I hadn't,” Lara said. “But it doesn't matter to me what names we use. I won't be asking for birth certificates as proof of identity.”

“They don't have birth certificates,” Jiana told her.

“Of course they don't,” Lara said feeling foolish. She doubted any of the Aboriginal children were born in hospitals or registered. Most white babies in England were home birthed, unless there was a medical reason for the mother to be taken to hospital.

“Would you like to see the school room, Jiana?” Lara asked, hoping she'd report favorably to Jinney and Nellie, and perhaps other mothers in the community.

“Yes, Miss Penrose,” Jiana said eagerly.

“Please call me Lara. Only my pupils need call me Miss Penrose,” Lara said. She took Jiana through to the schoolroom, which now looked nothing like a church, and told her about the students from Shady Camp and how quickly they were learning. Jiana didn't say much at first, but Lara could see she was intelligent because she took a keen interest in what the children were doing.

“Did you have schooling as a child, Jiana?” Lara asked, hoping it wasn't an insensitive question.

“Yes, Lara. I was in an orphanage on Melville Island. We were taught by Catholic nuns.”

“Nuns!”

“Yes, they were very good to us.”

“What was it like living in an orphanage, on an island?” Lara couldn't imagine how isolating it must have felt.

“It was very hard at first, but there were nearly two hundred of us and we were all in the same situation. It took awhile to get used to it and accept things, and of course I missed my mother like all the other kids, but the nuns were kind. Sister Theresa tried to be like a mother to us.”