The Glass Canoe (25 page)

THE FUTURE OF DOORSTOPS

I spent a while bringing back the empty barrels and putting them in the right place. Walking wasn't pleasant, my balls were up like a football. Well, a cricket ball.

The wounded went to hospital, we drank with the strangers. They weren't bad guys. Came from a rather big country town, as country towns go.

What would I do with the doorstop? There was no future for doorstops in a brand-new pub. I didn't want it opened at the brewery, or thrown on a tip. I made a trip to the car while the cops were elsewhere.

The publican called his manager in from a party; they took turns to keep watch all night. We got bottles and cans, went to the Great Lover's place and drank till morning. The strangers told us stories of what it was like being a drinker out west. One was in the team that took the Amco Cup from the city teams. No one
mentioned good manners or bad; it wasn't the time or the place.

They left round midday Saturday to pick up the wounded from hospital and called for a farewell drink on their way home and headed west around two. By then two jokers on ladders were knocking nails into fibro sheets and had the beam up where it belonged and the iron roof nailed down.

They found a broad-brimmed hat under the mess and nailed it up for a souvenir. Just under the clock.

The barrel bothered me.

The races were over. The Cross was full of stories and satisfaction, blackened eyes, cuts and bruises and limps. Like the aftermath of some gigantic game of football. Stories were being worked into legends.

Mick was limping, but he felt a bit better. He hadn't gone to the doctor yet and started the long business of X-rays and tests; later he had a big operation while the doctors tried to fix up the nerves that went down to his leg. There's a scar beside his spine now, a scar like a fishbone.

‘The barrel, Mick.'

‘Barrel?'

‘The empties got thrown round. Mixed up.'

‘Christ.'

‘I've got it.'

‘You?'

‘Took it in case the cops kicked it.'

‘Where is it?'

‘My room.'

He thought.

‘No one'll see it. Not ever. Could put a cushion on it, make a seat. Or use it for a swimming barrel for the kids up the Lake. To try and stand on while it's rolling. Unsinkable. Or could be a fixture up on the roof when they build a new pub. You could do the welding, a couple of chains either side, nice and shiny, see it for miles.'

I knew he'd want it where he could see it. If he did the welding it would never fall, and it would be awful hard to steal.

‘The sign's a good idea. You keep it up your place till the time comes, OK?'

I saw him talking hard to Nick, the publican. Who looked dazed still. I guess he'd learned he wasn't the only one could bring about change.

SOME LITTLE MATTER TO BE SETTLED

The man with the basket of food came round at six. He stopped at a group of the boys sitting in the sun at a table covered in slops and the water that dripped off the sides of glasses. On the table they carefully spread a road map. The water came up through the paper and formed lakes and inland seas in places that never even saw much rain. The boys didn't mind. They stocked up with garlic sausage and stuff and put it on the four corners of the map to hold it down at the edges. They began following roads with their fingers, calling out distances, remembering times they'd been at the different towns in the western part of the state.

I went over to look. Yes, they had the right town. Like all the other waterholes, it was marked in red.

As I walked past to the phone to ring my darling about our Sunday together—she wanted it to be special, she said—I heard them wondering what date the King and Serge and Mick would decide on. They were happy. It was like looking forward to a picnic.

There was a notice on the phone: Out of Order.

Out of order? I was just about to ask Nick if he'd reported it, when I remembered. I eased over to the little white junction, pulled it apart, ditched the insulating cigarette paper and put it together again. Dial tone. I put in money and called my darling.

Have you ever had someone climb all over you from the other end of a telephone line? I could feel her warm breath on my face.

When I got off the phone the King and Mick gave me a wave. Serge was there. I went over. Mick was holding his back.

‘Are you in?' said the King.

‘I'm in.'

‘Thanks, Meat,' said Mick.

‘How's the back?' I asked.

‘Crook.'

‘I don't like the slipper,' I said. It was the only word of comfort I could think of.

‘How does Easter suit you?'

‘Whatever suits the rest suits me.'

They nodded. Didn't speak for a while.

The King said, ‘You're looking after the barrel?'

‘That's right.'

They nodded again.

‘A cute trick, that broken arm,' said Serge, grinning at me.

‘Like an iron bar,' I said. No one said nose.

‘Maybe we take some tricks with us,' he said.

We all thought.

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘Maybe.'

‘What about that wall,' said the King innocently, not looking at Serge.

‘What wall?' said Serge. Just then a BB tinkled on one of the glass doors. We all looked out the back, pleased. Even Mick.

‘Butterflies are in season,' Serge said.

‘And brick walls,' said the King. That was the nearest they got to laughing. I don't have any authority to keep up—I'm not a mountain peak—so I laughed out loud, thinking of the beautiful day it was going to be tomorrow. They watched me till I stopped.

Mick looked down at me and said, ‘Now you know what a football feels like when it's kicked.' I looked down at the swelling. I had it held up with two pairs of briefs.

‘How'd they miss the old feller?' said Mick.

‘Easy. I strap him to the inside of my leg in three different places: one high, one halfway, and one just above the knee.'

‘I thought you tied it round your waist like a belt,' Serge said.

‘Not when there's glass on the floor.'

I went to the bar to get us a small fleet of glass canoes to take us where we wanted to go. I thought of the tribes across Australia, each with its waterhole, its patch of bar, its standing space, its beloved territory. It was a great life.

Down the back of the Cross kids were shooting butterflies.

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