|
Cynthia lives with her
husband Norm in a suburb of Melbourne. They have a rather unattractive baby.
Cynthia puts the baby in Arthur’s arms and says. ‘Look at you with Grandad!’
The baby starts to cry.
'No worries,' says Norm. Norm is a jolly swagman. All his mates are jolly swagmen too. At Christmas they camp out by the swimming pools drinking beer and cooking chunks of meat on barbies. Sometimes they sing drunken songs. Arthur tries hard but he can’t get into the swing of things. Sensing his discomfort Cynthia suggests a trip to the outback.
‘Have a look at Ayers Rock,’ says Norm, ‘you can climb it but the abos don’t like it.’
‘You’ll be right Arthur.’ say Norm’s mates in chorus. ‘Watch out for roos,’
McCafferty’s take him on a bus ride through seemingly endless red desert and grey bush. Arthur spots the occasional kangaroo hopping off to nowhere. A hard country to love he thinks but there is something attractive about its very strangeness. He gets off at a town somewhere in the middle and thanks the big beefy driver, ‘No worries mite,’ she says, and he wanders out of the bus station into a shopping mall where he buys an ice cream, sits down on a bench and tries to remember who he is supposed to be. All around him Australians in shorts are wandering in and out of shops. Except for some black ones who are sitting on patches of grass. Those must be aboriginal people thinks Arthur. A strange sort of cultural collision is going on here.
Arthur walks through the town until the buildings stop. There is nothing but red desert and scrub, a hazy distant mountain range. Arthur keeps walking. He doesn’t know why. It just seems like the thing to do. It is very hot. The sun is blinding.
Arthur wanders in circles until he comes to an area of broken glass and old beer cans. There are abandoned vehicles everywhere. Flies by the swarm. Scraps of cloth hanging limply in no breeze. By this point Arthur is delirious. Then he spots what looks like a small oasis, blue gums round a billabong, a Toyota minivan with no wheels. Arthur collapses on the ground in front of a fridge with no door. Hard to say how long he’s out of it. When he eventually recovers the first thing he sees is a somewhat unkempt woman with matted frizzy hair. A vision of loveliness.
‘G’day.’ Says Arthur (he picked up a bit of Strine in Melbourne).
‘Merry Christmas,’ says the dream person. She is wearing half a tracksuit and a large bra. ‘Going walkabout?’
‘Yes I suppose I am.’ Says Arthur.
‘I’m Alice. Fancy a beer?’
Alice? That’s odd. His head is still spinning and the warm beer doesn’t help much. Alice has a broad flat nose and a lovely smile. She seems like a kindly soul thinks Arthur.
‘There’s no ice.’ Says Alice.
‘That’s alright.’ Says Arthur.
‘And no TV neither. The power’s off.’
‘Really it’s OK,’ says Arthur, ‘don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Just need to sit down for a bit.’
‘Take your time luv.’ Says Alice.
‘Will you marry me Alice?’
‘Alright.’
This is madness thinks Arthur. I must get a grip. What about my promise to Duan? He struggles to collect his thoughts.
‘Look Alice, I’m sorry. I just remembered something. I can’t marry you after all.’
‘That’s alright luv,’ says Alice. ‘Have another beer anyway.’
The baby starts to cry.
'No worries,' says Norm. Norm is a jolly swagman. All his mates are jolly swagmen too. At Christmas they camp out by the swimming pools drinking beer and cooking chunks of meat on barbies. Sometimes they sing drunken songs. Arthur tries hard but he can’t get into the swing of things. Sensing his discomfort Cynthia suggests a trip to the outback.
‘Have a look at Ayers Rock,’ says Norm, ‘you can climb it but the abos don’t like it.’
‘You’ll be right Arthur.’ say Norm’s mates in chorus. ‘Watch out for roos,’
McCafferty’s take him on a bus ride through seemingly endless red desert and grey bush. Arthur spots the occasional kangaroo hopping off to nowhere. A hard country to love he thinks but there is something attractive about its very strangeness. He gets off at a town somewhere in the middle and thanks the big beefy driver, ‘No worries mite,’ she says, and he wanders out of the bus station into a shopping mall where he buys an ice cream, sits down on a bench and tries to remember who he is supposed to be. All around him Australians in shorts are wandering in and out of shops. Except for some black ones who are sitting on patches of grass. Those must be aboriginal people thinks Arthur. A strange sort of cultural collision is going on here.
Arthur walks through the town until the buildings stop. There is nothing but red desert and scrub, a hazy distant mountain range. Arthur keeps walking. He doesn’t know why. It just seems like the thing to do. It is very hot. The sun is blinding.
Arthur wanders in circles until he comes to an area of broken glass and old beer cans. There are abandoned vehicles everywhere. Flies by the swarm. Scraps of cloth hanging limply in no breeze. By this point Arthur is delirious. Then he spots what looks like a small oasis, blue gums round a billabong, a Toyota minivan with no wheels. Arthur collapses on the ground in front of a fridge with no door. Hard to say how long he’s out of it. When he eventually recovers the first thing he sees is a somewhat unkempt woman with matted frizzy hair. A vision of loveliness.
‘G’day.’ Says Arthur (he picked up a bit of Strine in Melbourne).
‘Merry Christmas,’ says the dream person. She is wearing half a tracksuit and a large bra. ‘Going walkabout?’
‘Yes I suppose I am.’ Says Arthur.
‘I’m Alice. Fancy a beer?’
Alice? That’s odd. His head is still spinning and the warm beer doesn’t help much. Alice has a broad flat nose and a lovely smile. She seems like a kindly soul thinks Arthur.
‘There’s no ice.’ Says Alice.
‘That’s alright.’ Says Arthur.
‘And no TV neither. The power’s off.’
‘Really it’s OK,’ says Arthur, ‘don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Just need to sit down for a bit.’
‘Take your time luv.’ Says Alice.
‘Will you marry me Alice?’
‘Alright.’
This is madness thinks Arthur. I must get a grip. What about my promise to Duan? He struggles to collect his thoughts.
‘Look Alice, I’m sorry. I just remembered something. I can’t marry you after all.’
‘That’s alright luv,’ says Alice. ‘Have another beer anyway.’
No comments:
Post a Comment