Published: 27 Feb 2023

Chapter 13

After dinner the family gathered about with Jim at its centre. Gavin had the most questions and mainly about the war, the fighting and the Japanese. It was evident by Jim’s expression and his reluctance to answer he was suffering from his experiences. May soon put a stop to Gavin’s somewhat interrogation, while Winnie attempted to bring Jim up to date with what was happening around town.

“Why don’t you sit out on the verandah while I tidy? There is a nice breeze,” May suggests. They make a move, “not you Gavin, you can help with the dishes.”

Owen collects a couple of bottles from the refrigerator.

“Owen,” May softly peaks.

“That’s me.”

“Jim can have his old room back, so you move in with Gavin.”

Gavin gives a look of disapproval but is ignored.

“One more thing, take that horrid mask you brought back from New Guinea down or it will give Jim nightmares.”

Once they are alone May speaks to Gavin, “don’t pester Jim about the war,” she says.

“Why?”

“Jim is obviously distressed from what he experienced and needs time to readjust to being home.”

Gavin collects a drying cloth without responding while Owen joins Winnie and Jim close by the oleander overhang at the end of the verandah.

“Who’s for a beer?” Owen asks.

Jim gives a gentle nod and settles into the cool of the early evening.

“Pam asked after you,” Winnie says as the conversation dies away.

“Pam who?” Jim asks.

“Pam West who I work with at Jebreen’s; you went out with Pam for a time before going overseas.”

“I didn’t know you were working.”

“I only started there recently.”

“I don’t remember her?”

Owen’s ears pricked towards his brother’s lack of recall, as by what Jim had shared with him before enlisting he had been most intimate with Pam and although only flimsy promises had been made, there was a suggestion that some time in the future they could announce a date.

“Anyway Pam says hello,” Winnie concludes but doesn’t press further on Jim’s ability to recall her workmate.

“Say hello back,” Jim dryly answers.

“I’ll give mum a hand and let you boys chatter,” Winnie collects the empty bottles and heads for the kitchen.

Owen’s thoughts follow his sister, ‘she seems bothered about something,’ he thinks but allowed his concern to subside.

“Do you mind if I remain and keep you company for a while?” Owen asks.

“Be my guest.”

The breeze May had suggested earlier had died away, leaving the air hot and humid.

“Hot isn’t it?” Owen says.

“Not as hot as New Guinea.”

“I should think you are pleased to be home?”

“What were you doing in New Guinea?” Jim questions ignoring Owen’s attempt at conversation.

“You have already asked me that question.”

“Then I ask again.”

“I only went along for the plane ride, as I’m thinking of flying commercially after the war.”

“Dam stupid thing to do if you ask me;” Jim says and releases a quiet yawn while stretching his arms. His shoulder pinches badly and he gives a soft yelp.”

“Is your shoulder playing up?”

“It only pulls when I forget about it and stretch.”

“Are you tired?”

“A little you don’t get much sleep in the billets.”

“Why is that Jim?”

Jim doesn’t respond to Owen’s question as the most of it are the nightmares some of the wounded live through, as the dark amplifies their fear and terror. Some were too afraid to close their eyes, as all they would see were the faces of dead comrades, while the screams and cries of the dying appear to intensify within the silence of night.

“Then why not go to bed, you have your old room and I’m bunking in with Gavin.”

“I don’t like being closed in, as it is too much like the jungle. I shut my eyes and feel as if the walls are closing in on me.”

“It must have been horrific for you.”

“Not the half of it but enough of that.”

“Will you be coming back to the farm soon?”

“Not for a while, I’m seeing someone about a little problem I have.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No:”

It was obvious Jim was only being polite when he allowed Owen to sit with him and accepting the hint, Owen readied for his own bed. “I’ll be off then, do you want anything before I retire.”

“No thank you Owen,” Jim’s voice was soft and distant.

“You know where your room is, so I’ll be seeing you in the morning but if you need anything during the night simply bang on the wall, my bed is right behind.”

“Right you are.”

Owen was dozing but awakened by the roar of an aircraft engine directly above the house. He bolted up to sitting in a start, ‘that had the sound of a Dakota?’ he thought and peered across to the dark form in the second bed, “are you awake Gavin?” he whispers.

No answer.

Owen goes to the window.

Outside everything is bathed in bright moonlight almost as if it was daylight and Sookie could be seen heading out in the direction of the creek.

“Gavin forgot to put her on the chain,” he softly voices, while in half a mind to chain her but as quickly discards the idea.

The aircraft’s engine died away to a distant hum and was no more.

Then it happened.

There was shouting coming from Jim’s room.

“I got him Corporal! I got the bugger!”

“I’ve got him!” Jim again calls, followed by a measure of silence.

Owen goes to his brother’s door, it is partly open.

He quietly listens.

“I can see his eyes!” Jim shouts and thrashes about in his sleep.

“I can see his eyes!” he repeats in a horse shout while his breathing becomes laboured.

Owen quickly goes to his brother’s side, “Jim it’s only a dream I’m here with you.

Jim bolts upright with a loud gasp.

“You were only dreaming,” Owen repeats.

Jim begins to sob “it’s his eyes brother,” he says as both May and Alf arrive at the door.

“What’s going on,” Alf whispers.

“Jim’s had a bad dream that is all, he is alright now, go back to bed dad and I’ll stay with him.”

As May comes to the morning’s kitchen she finds Owen setting the breakfast fire. “How is Jim?” she quietly asks and collected the egg basket from the pantry.

“At present sleeping but he had a rough night. Did you hear that plane overhead about midnight?”

“Yes it woke me, it appeared very low,” May implies.

“I think its sound caused Jim’s disturbance.”

“Did you stay with him all night?”

“I did.”

“I’ll talk to your dad; you need to sleep awhile.”

“I’ll be alright mum I dozed a little but I am concerned for Jim. He seemed fine on the plane and when I saw him away in the ambulance at the airfield he was quite chirpy, now he appears to be a total wreck.”

“It’s the war love. I saw similar during the last war, some men never recovered from their ordeal,” May recollects.

“But Jim will be alright – won’t he?”

“It may take time, it is best not to go on about the war in his company, also speak to Gavin, as he is inclined to ask too many questions.”

A presence is felt as Jim comes to the door; May turns to him, “good morning love, are you ready for breakfast?”

“Coffee would be nice.”

“No coffee I’m afraid, it will have to be tea as coffee is rationed.”

“Then I would love a cup of tea, I will be out on the verandah,” Jim gives a slight flinch and raises a hand to his wounded shoulder.

“Is your shoulder giving you pain?” May asks.

“No it is on the mend, sudden movement pulls somewhat that is all.”

Jim was served his breakfast on the verandah and by his attitude preferred his own company, with his excuse being people made too much fuss over him. Owen gave his brother cheer and left to attend to the water pump, as it had once again failed during the previous day. While walking along the rows he sees Winnie coming from the house. He pauses to allow her to catch up. “I see you are wearing sensible shoes this time?” he jests.

“Gavin’s gumboots but they much too big and I almost come out of them with each step.”

The two slowly walk towards the creek. The sun has risen over the tall trees to the east and already has a sting.

“How are you enjoying working at Jebreen’s?” Owen asks as he commences to work on the pump.

“I like it but some of the customers are snooty, they look down on me as a poor farm girl.”

“I wouldn’t concern as most of them are nothing but poor town girls with attitude.”

“I heard Jim shouting last night,” Winnie says.

“He is having nightmares.” Owen commences to work on the water pump.

“Will Jim be alright?”

“That is a good question. Dad thinks he should improve in time and it is best for us not to pressure him.”

“What he went through must have been horrid.” Winnie says.

“I guess so.”

“What are you doing?” Winnie surprisingly asks as she seldom found interest in anything Owen was about.

“I’m trying to fix the water pump.”

“What is wrong with it?”

“If I explained that, it would take me half of the day and you would still be none the wiser.”

“There’s no need to be nasty.”

“Being truthful isn’t being nasty.”

“Anyway,” Winnie then fell silent as she walked towards the dam. On reaching the low bank she takes seating on a fallen tree trunk. Owen attempts to start the pump and at first chance it fired up without a splutter.

“Fixed it!” he laughs and turns towards his sister for complement. She appeared uncommonly distant. “What seems to be the problem Winnie, it isn’t like you to take interest in what I’m up to.”

“Nothing.”

“Righto’ then it is nothing.” Owen allowed the water to flow into the first row and with a shovel clears the way for the next. All the while he is watching Winnie’s change in temperament for anything that may illustrate her obvious mood.

“Do you know Hank Wilson?” she softly asks.

“I do, he is the co-pilot with Chip but knowing your attitude towards American fly-boys, I didn’t know you were acquainted with him.”

“I met him at the town dance.”

“Go on,” Owen quietly encourages believing there would be more than a good night out in his sister’s telling.

Winnie remains silent.

“He’s a good bloke but watch him he likes the girls,” Owen suggests.

“He’s married.” Winnie says.

“Yes I know and he has a young son under two. What is the matter Winnie, you are being somewhat avoiding.”

Winnie remains silent for a time while Owen allows water to flow into the next furrow, by spading dirt across the neck of the previous. The pump splutters but remains pumping at a good rate.

“Winnie, are you trying to tell me something?”

“I don’t know who else to talk to,” Winnie says.

“I am always ready to listen.”

Winnie hesitates but realizes she would need to eventually confide in someone, “I could be pregnant,” she says, her voice lowering to a whisper as she turns her eyes away.

“Oh.”

“Yes oh, you won’t tell dad?”

“You should know me better than to do that Winnie.”

“It was supposed to be only a little fun but I got tipsy and the fun went a little further than I anticipated.”

“Does Hank know?”

“No, I’ve told no one except you.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know; get rid of it I suppose. I was hoping you may know someone, as I don’t know anyone else I can trust.”

“Good lord Winnie do you think that’s the type I mix with.”

Winnie commences crying.

“Sorry Winnie, that was cruel of me,” Owen takes her hand in comfort and gives it a gentle shake, “I suppose I could ask about for you but it costs and by law you can’t have it done at the hospital.”

“I have a little put aside from my work but Owen I’m frighten.”

“I do know one who is worldly and may know what to do,” Owen says.

“Who?”

“Our Uncle Ted.”

“I wouldn’t want him knowing, he may tell dad.”

“There isn’t much chance of Ted doing that, seeing they haven’t spoken for close on ten years and dad threatened to shoot him if he ever set foot on the farm again.”

“Would you do so – please?”

“I’ll see what I can do, how far gone are you?”

“Not very.”

“Then don’t concern, I’m going into town on Monday and somehow I’ll search Ted out.”

“Thank you Owen but don’t tell Chip, or he may tell Hank.”

“No I wouldn’t.”

Owen watched his sister as she slowly returned to the house while considering how he could manage visiting Ted without anyone seeing him. He could wait until their paths crossed in town but that was seldom, therefore it would need to be at Ted’s house, possibly he could telephone and make arrangement to meet in private.

A further thought discouraged any meeting at Ted’s house, as it would be certain Meg Ryan would spy him and quickly be on the telephone to May.

‘If it got back to dad there will be a double whammy,’ he thinks, ‘that being visiting Ted, the other being Winnie’s misfortune.’

“Oh well,” he softly speaks in the still morning air and returns to his watering, as in the scheme of things what Alf would say was but a minnow compared with what Winnie was going through.

Owen remembers their Cousin Violet and the time she disappeared for some months. Gone to live with Aunty Lora down in Mackay was the excuse but much had been whispered within the extended family and town, with shamed being the conclusion and when Aunt Clemence was about, the hushing and tutting as she passed by.

That was long past and now Violet was married with two young boys and a useless husband two years her junior with a wandering eye. It appears time forgot Violet’s plight but there was always whispers and that was something he didn’t wish for Winnie. Besides Violet had the option of a forced marriage but with Hank already married that option wasn’t available for Winnie.

How could Owen telephone his uncle without being overheard, as May was always about the house during the day? Eventually he decided calling from the post office but how could he ask for help when he had avoided Ted for so many years, yet there was no one else and once contact was established he would need to be social with Ted, he couldn’t use his uncle when it suited then disregard him, even to Owen’s young mind that would appear hypercritical.

At that moment Owen had his watering to finish and Monday was a place too far, he would do his deliveries to the airfield and decide further once in town for supplies but even if he had suggested asking Ted for assistance it was one he was already regretting.

It was a stressful weekend for Winnie being at home as May was quick to pick up on any change in her manner and was never slow in asking questions. Winnie quietly assured it was nothing but the time of month, which May accepted but by midday on Sunday Winnie was so tense she wished to return back to town, missing out on May’s Sunday night dinner.

“I have cooked especially,” May protests as Winnie finds her handbag and the few things she had brought with her for the weekend.

“I’m not feeling well,” Winnie excuses.

May becomes concerned, “if you are not well, you should call in sick and stay here so I can look after you.”

“No, I’m sure I will be alright by the morning.”

“Should you see a doctor?”

“I’m not that unwell mum,” Winnie attempts to laugh, “I’m only a little of colour, as I said before it is only -,” Winnie doesn’t repeat her previous reason as the boys are close by.

“How will you get back to town?”

“Owen can drive you,” Alf suggests.

“You will call me in the morning.”

“Yes mum.”

“On your way you better say goodbye to Jim, he is on the front verandah.”

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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