Jessica (5 page)

George Thomas demands that his foreman work the tar boys hard. Ten minutes before a smoko they have to leave the shed and prepare the billy tea and biscuits for their shearers. One afternoon, a day Joe's gone to the land office and isn't with her in the shed, Jessica leaves to make tea for Jack and Billy. When she gets outside the six tar boys come at her, grabbing her and pushing her into the nearby sheep pen where they knock her down and turn her on her back. Two of them jump astride her body, one on her chest, pinning her wrists to the ground, the other sitting on her legs. There's sheep milling about and bleating and dogs yapping but the other four keep them away so there's a clearing in the middle of the pen.

‘Let me go, you bastards!' Jessica yells. ‘Let go of me!' The sheep are panicking and one comes flying down the race and crashes into Jessica and the two boys, sending them flying. Jessica rolls free and tries to get to her feet but another of the young blokes falls onto her and pins her down again while a second takes hold of her feet.

‘You'll take what's comin' to you, Jessie Bergman!' the boy sitting on her chest shouts. ‘Yer too bloody cocky.' ‘Yeah, bloody oath!' the one who's holding her legs shouts. ‘Here, gi's a hand!' he shouts at one of the others, who immediately sits astride her stomach. ‘You think you're better than us, don't yiz?' says the tar boy on her chest, the biggest among them. ‘Well, you bloody ain't, see!' he grunts. ‘Yer just a fuckin' sheila!'

With the sound of the donkey engine, the yapping of the dogs, bleating of sheep and the clanking of the wool presses they have to shout to be heard and Jessica knows it's pointless to yell for help — the men in the shearing shed won't hear her. So she saves her strength to curse them with every obscenity she's ever heard Joe use and some private ones of her own as well. But the three of them on top of her are too strong. ‘Bastards! Let me go!' she cries.

The three remaining tar boys now get to work, rubbing a preparation of Stockholm tar into her scalp with their tar sticks. It's all over in a matter of moments and the boys are up and away, leaving her lying on the ground in the sheep pen with the newly shorn sheep closing in, pissing and shitting and milling about her.

Jessica jumps to her feet, panicking the sheep around her legs. ‘You'll pay for this, you miserable bastards!' she screams after them as a wether bumps hard into the back of her knees and she falls down again, the hot tar burning and stinging her scalp.

She is shaking with anger and humiliation and wants to cry, but wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She chokes back the tears and, still on her knees among the sheep, searches for her hat, which fell off her head when she was knocked down. Jessica is still snorting and swearing when she finds it trampled in the dirt and smelling of sheep shit.

She rises again, bleating sheep up to her waist, and slaps her misshapen hat against the rump of the nearest ewe to dust it off. The slapping gets rid of some of her rage, and she gathers her wits. Jessica pushes her hat roughly into shape and pulls it over her head as far down as she can to cover her tarred hair.

She's got no time to feel sorry for herself. Smoko's only a few minutes away and she still needs to boil the billy for the lads, catch up on the sheep she's missed tarring and then sweep the second cuts and bellies away so her section of the shearing board is clean.

Jessica doesn't know how she's going to hide what's happened from Joe when she gets home. He'd be just as likely to come looking for the tar boys who worked her over and all hell would break loose. Then, like George Thomas said, any trouble in the shed because of her and Jessica gets the chop, no questions asked.

She's still cranky as hell because the only thing she's done wrong was to be a girl, but she can't do anything about it. She knows Joe needs her six shillings to help pay the bank interest on the mortgage. The man from the bank has been around twice in the last month and after he'd left the last time Joe went quiet and didn't speak a word to her for two whole days, so Jessica knows things must be real bad.

While Jessica shares most of Joe's problems around the place, money is the one thing he never speaks to her about, nor to Hester and Meg. But she sees how things are, and she knows money is what's going to finally drive Joe mad or kill him.

Jessica just manages to make tea for her boys and cut two corned beef sandwiches for them when the hooter sounds in the shearing shed for their afternoon smoko. Jack's and Billy's shearing stands are the last on the board, so they're first to come outside to take their mug of tea, sheltering from the sun under a bit of tarpaulin Jessica's rigged up as their spot.

The boys are all but spent, their shirts clinging wetly to their chests, their necks and faces shiny with perspiration. They sit on the apple crates she's put out for them and gulp gratefully at the hot, sweet tea in silence. After a while Jack notices that Jessica isn't yacking away like she usually does. Without looking up from his mug he says, ‘Cat got your tongue then, Tea Leaf?' Billy glances up at Jessica, and his eyes grow wide with surprise. ‘Shit, what happened to yer neck?'

‘Nothing. It's nothing,' she mumbles.

‘It's bloody tar! There's flamin' tar running down yer neck!'

Jack now looks up. ‘Hell, what's happened?' he exclaims.

But by this time Billy has put down his tin mug. Jumping to his feet, he reaches down and pulls at Jessica's hat.

‘Ouch!' she yells. Billy has lifted her hat and her blonde hair sticks to the rim, glued to it by the tar. ‘Who's done this?' he demands.

‘Ouch, Billy, let go!' Jessica yells again as Billy tries to unglue her hat by pulling still further, but more gently, finally yanking it free.

Jessica snatches at the hat and with both hands plants it firmly back on her head, then she pushes Billy away. ‘Leave off, will ya, I'm all right!'

‘No you bloody ain't,' Jack says. ‘What happened, Jessie?'

‘It's none of your business,' Jessica says, trying to sound tough.

‘Like hell it's not,' Billy exclaims. ‘Who's done this to you, Tea Leaf? You tell me and I'll fix the bastards.'

‘It was an accident,' is all Jessica will say.

‘It's the tar boys, isn't it?' Billy keeps at her. Jessica turns away to hide her tears just as the hooter sounds to call the tar boys back to sweep the board.

Jack looks down at Jessica and wipes his hand across his mouth. ‘Jessie, I'm taking you over to the big house to get you fixed up. Fetch my horse and yours too, we'll ride over now.'

‘No, please!' She looks anxiously back at the shearing shed. ‘I've gotta get back,' Jessica says, knowing that her being out of the shed is bound to come to the notice of Mike Malloy, especially if Jack's also missing. She'll be dismissed and Joe will be disgraced. ‘Please, Jack, I don't want no trouble, it can wait. I'll be right.

I've gotta go now.'

‘No, hang on!' Jack grabs her wrist. ‘There's benzine at the homestead, it should take the tar off. Maybe we should try the engine gas-oil here?'

‘Please Jack! I'll lose me job!' Jessica begs.

‘Let her go, Jack,' Billy says, ‘her hair ain't gunna get any worse if we wait till the day ends. She's right, Mike Malloy'll be out to find her if she doesn't get back.

Don't you worry, Tea Leaf, I'll sort out the lads later.' Jessica sees that Jack doesn't like Billy taking over like this. ‘Billy's right, Jack,' she says urgently. ‘Please, I'm late, Jack, it's me job!'

Jack looks a bit miffed. ‘Well, you get the horses ready as soon as we break, right?' he says crossly, sitting back on his apple crate and picking up his mug again. ‘But wait on a moment, if you go in there like this Mike Malloy will see the stuff all over your shoulders,' he points to her, ‘the tar running down.'

Jessica looks more panic-stricken than ever. ‘I'll cover it up.'

Jack grabs her by the hand. ‘Come with me.' Inside the dark little shed which houses the donkey engine Jack takes up a gallon can of paraffin. He soaks a bit of rough hessian in it and begins to scrub the tar from Jessica's neck and her collar and over her shoulders. Jessica tries not to wince at the smell and the scrubbing, and finally Jack stops. ‘There, that's better! If Mike Malloy asks where you've been tell him I kept you back.'

Jessica nods and runs back to the shed. Her scalp itches from the tar and her skin burns where the paraffin has removed the tar from her neck and shoulders. When she returns to the shed the foreman is nowhere to be seen and she breathes a sigh of relief.

Towards the end of the afternoon she manages to get away for a few minutes to find the stable boy and tell him to saddle Jack's horse and her own and to bring them round ready for when work ends.

The boys watch her all afternoon, giggling each time she passes one of them. At last the hooter for the end of the day goes and Billy, who has stopped shearing five minutes before to clean and oil his clippers, jumps from his station and walks down the board. He grabs a tar pot and stick and then collars all six boys and marches them out of the shed.

The other shearers watch, confused. It's a tar boy's job to do the last sweep and clean up. First in, last out, the lowest works the longest is the rule. The donkey engine comes to a stop, then the wool press does the same and the shed has suddenly quietened down.

‘What's up, Billy?' one of the shearers calls, but Billy doesn't answer, roughly pushing the boys ahead of him. The shearers look at each other and then at Jack, who's grabbed hold of Jessica so she doesn't run for her horse. ‘A spot of bother with the tars,' Jack says. ‘They'll be back in a while, Billy's just sorting it out.' He is holding the shears and, spying a bit of Jessica's tar-covered hair sticking out from under her hat, snips it off and puts it into his pocket.

The men are not happy. Billy and Jack are the youngest shearers in the shed and have no right to be taking such liberties when the boys are needed. But they let it go and turn back to the oiling of their clippers and their preparations to leave. Perhaps they wonder why Jessica is standing with Jack, and not among the tar boys, but minding your own business is the first rule of any shearing shed and Jack is still the boss's son. Jessica is shaking like a leaf and Jack is right to hold her. She's near to panic and she'd have scarpered, running for her horse to get home.

‘Come on,' Jack now says, leading her out of the shed.

‘They'll think I'm marching you out, like Billy's doing with the others.'

‘Please Jack, stop Billy, he's gunna ruin it for me,' Jessica cries.

‘Leave Billy be, Tea Leaf, he's old enough and ugly enough to take care of himself. Come on, we've got to fix your hair,' Jack replies.

‘No, no, please stop Billy. You said the benzine will fix my hair, that's all that matters. We can do it later. It was a joke, that's all. Just a stupid joke.' Jessica reaches over and pulls at Jack's sleeve. ‘Your father said he'd fire me if there was trouble. Jack, please, Joe needs the money I make for the mortgage. You've got to stop Billy before it's too late, before he wrecks everything!' she pleads desperately.

Jack stops, and looking into Jessie's eyes sees the panic there. They've reached the horses tethered to a stump. He unties both reins and hands Jessica hers as he thinks for a moment. ‘I'll try,' he says finally, ‘though Billy can be a stubborn bastard.' Then, placing his boot in the stirrup, he swings into the saddle. Jessica does the same and they ride to where Billy has collected the six tar boys behind the shearing shed.

The boys stand in front of Billy with their heads bowed. Five are barefoot and only one wears a pair of heavy boots, which are too big for him. They are all dirty and sweating and their top lips have turned to snot runs. When they're running around the shed you wouldn't notice what a bedraggled lot they are. But standing together in the late afternoon sun in their rags and tatters, filthy dirty from the day's work, sniffing and forlorn, they're as pathetic-looking a mob as you'd ever wish to see, Jessica thinks to herself. But she knows too that while her clothes are better, well patched by Hester, she doesn't look much different.

‘Righto, here's what's gunna happen,' Billy is saying as Jack and Jessica come riding up.

‘Hey, Billy, what say we leave this to Mike Malloy?' Jack calls down to him.

Billy turns and looks up at Jack. ‘Nah, it's our business, Jack. They did it to our tar boy, it's ours to fix.' Jack climbs down from the saddle and tethers his horse to a tall mallee stump behind Billy. Jessica does the same.

‘Mate, Jessie doesn't want you to go on with it,' Jack continues. ‘She says it was just a joke they played on her.' The tar boys all look up hopefully. Billy fixes his eyes on Jessica. ‘Some joke! Take off yer hat, Jessie.' Jessica shakes her head.

‘Jessie, lift yer hat, that's a bloody order!' Billy shouts.

‘Lift it, Tea Leaf,' Jack whispers beside her.

Her hat is stuck firmly to her hair and she tries to remove it, lifting it gingerly, trying not to show the pain it's causing her. She winces and gets one side of the hat free so that it lifts like a hinged lid, just enough for them to see that her scalp and short fair hair is completely covered and matted with tar. Some of the men have come out from the shed to see what's going on, and a couple of them whistle with surprise at this sight. Jessica quickly pulls the side of the hat down again, flushing with embarrassment. ‘Please, Billy, there's no harm done,' she pleads.