Published: 17 Apr 2023

Chapter 20

Arriving in town to collect Winnie, Owen finds her as usual unprepared. On hearing the truck she poked her head out of the window and calls Owen in. Instead Owen gives two sharp blasts on the truck’s horn and curses loudly.

“Cut it out Owen, I’m not ready, so come in and wait. If you keep up that honking you will wake Ron Stephens next door and he’s on night duty.”

“Too bloody late for that,” Stephens calls from his bedroom window, “is that you Owen Parker?”

“It is Mr. Stephens. Sorry.”

“Yea, lucky for you lad I was awake.”

Stephens closes the window, as Owen enters into the house.

“That’s telling me,” he says.

“That’s the trouble with men, they never think,”

“Are you ready?”

“No sit down, I’ll only be five,” Winnie directs.

“Where is Sarah?” Owen asks after Winnie’s housemate.

“I’m here Owen,” Sarah quietly says as she enters into the room with the stealth of a cat.

Sarah is an attractive young woman with peroxide blond hair, although dark roots are sprouting from a few weeks growth. She was also inclined to show more leg than pre-war fashion desired with the notion, when the peace lifts, so will the hemline, while in the habit of re-hemming any new garment to expose even more, until the last correction entirely exposed her knees.

“Sarah,” Owen simply greets, before impatiently returning his attention to his sister. “Get a wriggle on Winnie; I have a lot to do and dad wants the truck later this afternoon.”

“Is that the best greeting you can offer Owen?” Sarah comments on his greeting. She sits close by him and lights a cigarette. “Want one?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“I should give them up,” Sarah admits, cheekily blowing smoke in Owen’s direction.

“So why don’t you?” Owen ignores the puff of smoke but is obviously annoyed by it.

“I’m hooked I suppose. I’ve been smoking since high school. We used to hide our supply in an old biscuit tin amongst the shrubs behind the bike shed, until Miss Smith caught us and sent us up to old Gray for the cuts. He gave us three each. If I recollect correctly his habit was three for girls and four for boys.”

“I copped it from him a couple of times and if you pulled your hand away he got you on the knuckles on the upswing. “We also had Miss Smith for English in Sub Junior.”

“Do you remember her famous saying?”

“I do, fly up to the office!” Owen recollects and both laugh.

“That’s the one, she is teaching in Atherton now,” Sarah shares.

“Your old man was a tobacco farmer before the war,” Owen recollects.

“Was and will do so again once the war is over. I hear Alf has landed a good contract with the military.”

“It keeps us busy,” Owen says as Winnie comes from her room, “where is your friend?”

“We have to pick Lyn up on the way,” Winnie returns to collect what she was taking for the weekend.

“Lyn who?”

“Lyn Russell, you know her younger sister Trish,” Winnie closes her bedroom door.

“Hurry up will you Winnie,” Owen again impatiently encourages.

“You are the inpatient one,” Sarah suggests and stubs out half her cigarette, “I haven’t seen you for quite a while what have you been up to?” she asks.

“The farm keeps me busy.”

“I believe the last time I saw you was the school social dance during breakup week, I was there as chaperone to my sister Mavis.”

Owen ignores Sarah’s recollection and calls after his sister, “Winnie, “Come on I haven’t all day!”

Winnie doesn’t respond.

“If my memory is correct you were at the dance with Trish and all over her like some itching rash.”

“I’ve hardly seen her since, you know the farm and all. What is she up to these days?”

“Trish often asks after you.”

“Does she?”

She does,” Sarah obviously has more to reveal but is savoring the moment and having a story to tell is delivering it line by line, while searching for reaction in Owen during the telling.

Owen crosses the room and knocks loudly on Winnie’s door, “come on Winnie!” he demands, more to be away from Sarah and her incursion into his privacy.

“Don’t rush me Owen,” Winnie snaps.

“She said she offered to let you take advantage of her as a birthday present,” Sarah continues.

Sarah was a young woman who said what she thought without concern for feelings and at times could be quite suggestive. This was obviously going to be one of those times.

“That was yonks back. Did Trish tell you that?”

“She did and more.”

“She did make such an offer but there wasn’t more as you suggest and I believed she was teasing,” Owen quietly agreed while prepared to meet anything Sarah was about to offer with equal crudity.

“She also said you turned her down.”

“I did,” Owen finally admits.

“Why would a hot blooded young male do that Owen?”

The word may not have been spoken but it was obviously inferred and Sarah may as well accuse Owen of being homosexual.

“Do you want an honest answer?”

“I’m not all that fussed.”

“Then why ask?”

Sarah shrugs it away. “It was simply conversation.”

Owen wasn’t going to allow Sarah get away with her forwardness, “because a root is like a meal and one helping will never satisfy, as you always want more and I didn’t want to start a relationship with Trish.”

Sarah titters, “that’s dumb.”

“It is the only reason I’m offering.”

“It’s still dumb and I don’t think that is the real reason Owen.”

Owen laughs.

“What’s the joke?”

“You women talk such a lot of crap.”

The humour dissolves and Owen closes down the conversation as Winnie finally returns.

“I’m ready,” Winnie declares as she comes from her room.

“You’ve changed your dress.”

“I’m still not happy with it. What have you two been talking about; not me I hope.”

“No Owen was telling me why he turned down a good time with Trish Coventry,”

“Sarah!” Winnie shrieked in aversion.

“Well he did turn Trish down; ask him.”

“I’ve said all I’m saying on the matter Sarah. Come on Winnie I can only hope your friend Lyn is ready when we get there.”

As they turned into Iluka Street to collect Winnie’s friend, Owen momentary pulls the truck to the side of the road, “I have some news for you before we pick up Lyn,”

Winnie understood well what he was about to disclosed and could feel her hand tremble with nervous anticipation.

“Lyn knows,” Winnie quietly admits.

“About you being pregnant or your intention?”

“Both Owen.”

“Even so, I’ll explain now and you can decide what you want to share with Lyn.”

“I’m listening but I’m anxious.”

“Chip has arranged it for Wednesday week and he will give me the details before the day.”

“It,” Winnie says.

“It’s only a word Winnie.”

“Why not say abortion, as that is what it is,” Winnie snipes from guilt towards her decision.

“I’m sorry Winnie I was only trying to protect your feelings.”

“You can imagine how I feel.”

“I guess not. Do you still want to go with the procedure?”

Winnie gives a half nod as Owen continues on to collect Lyn.

“Again I ask, are you sure you want to go through with the termination?”

“No but the alternatives are much too frightening.”

“You realize whatever you decide you will always have my support.”

I appreciate your support Owen. Yes tell Chip I will be there.”

The Parker telephone rang during the evening news and as she was passing answered by May. There was a moment of greeting and some light humour before she calls into the living room. “It’s Chip for you Owen.”

Owen approaches with expectancy as the contents of the conversation he was about to have had already been structured.

“Hello there,” Owen cheerfully answered.

“I only have a minute.”

“I’m listening.”

“It is all arranged for Winnie, so does she still wish to go ahead with it?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be flying on Wednesday morning and fortunately it is a quiet time at the base, so there shouldn’t be too many questions.”

“That would be pleasing, so Wednesday it is.”

“I have also clued up Bill Harding.”

“Who is Bill Harding?”

“He should be the guard on duty and he believes Winnie is simply visiting to associate with military nursing.”

Owen sees May straining to hear as Winnie’s name is mentioned. He turns away and lowers his voice.

“I’ll be gone for on a week this time, so when I return you know what to expect,” Chip gives a light chuckle.

“What will I expect?” If grinning makes a sound, that coming from Owen would have been deafening.

“I’ll have some leave and I think you know what I have in mind.”

“I look forward to it, so I will see you then.”

“What is Chip up to?” May asks as Owen finishes the call and joins her in the living room.

“What pilots do I guess – flying.”

“Don’t be obtuse.”

“He is going away for a week and had to cancel our pub night.”

“You are starting to drink too much young man and you are still under the legal drinking age.”

“It’s the war Megan-may, if I’m old enough to kill, or be killed than I’m old enough to have a couple of beers.”

“As long as it is only beer.”

Alf gives a frown as he folds the newspaper to the coffee table which is noticed by Owen. That frown meant his father was thinking and coming to some conclusion which had nothing to do with the headlines on the tank battle, fifteen miles from the town of Tobruk in North Africa. “There is a dance night at the town hall on Saturday night, “Alf says.

“There is,” Owen answers.

“You should go along, meet up with some pretty young girls and as Jim will be home take him along with you.”

“I can’t as the truck has a blown headlamp.”

“It hasn’t anymore.”

“Since when?”

“When you were collecting Winnie on Friday, Chip arranged the delivery of half a dozen bulbs with one of his mates as he was passing this way.”

“Anyway I can’t dance,” Owen admits.

“Do what you young fellows do these days and jiggle about to blaring music.”

“The jitterbug,” Owen laughs.

“That’s it the jitterbug. Now the waltz, that is poetry in motion, you should have seen your mother on the dance floor, yes poetry in motion she was and as graceful as a swan.”

May gives a smile of fading memory.

“As I said, I can’t dance and it’s your fault dad.”

“Why is that so Owen?”

“You’ve kept me working here on the farm for so long; I didn’t have time to learn how to dance.”

“Poor excuse, when I was a lad I had to work cattle miles from anywhere for months at a time and I still learned to dance – also I agree with your mother, I think you are drinking too much.”

“I never have more than a couple and as I said, I never touch the hard stuff. What’s on your mind dad?” Owen asks as it was more than obvious his father was skirting around a thought that was much deeper than Owen’s dancing ability.

“Only at your time of life you should get out more; that is all I am saying.” Alf gives a cheeky grin as his gaze returns to May, remembering their younger days when he gave up cattle for the softness of a woman’s touch.

Owen remained taciturn but the direction of his father’s questioning was more than concern for his social activities, it was aimed directly at his association with Chip, therefore he would need to be more secretive towards their involvement in the future.

“There was that girl who was sweet on you at school,” May takes over as Alf concludes and returns to his newspaper.

“Who would that have been mum?”

“She visited here on a number of times, what was her name?”

“Trish,” Owen suggests.

“That was her name, Patricia, such a lovely girl and she was so obliging.”

“She was a little too obliging and her name is Trish and short for nothing.”

“Anyway why don’t you see her anymore?”

“It just happens that way I suppose, are you in a hurry to become a grandmother Megan-may?”

Alf smiles towards the suggestion and speaks, “Megan May can we come out to play. I remember when you were carrying young Owen you were radiant.”

“Dad!” Owen loudly interjects.

“Well that is how it happens; the storks don’t bring babies you know.”

“That’s enough Alf,” May quietly warns.

“I may go to the dance night,” Owen gives as a late suggestion hoping it enough to divert the subject.

“Take Gavin with you,” Alf says.

“A moment ago you were trying to marry me off, now you want me to take Gavin and ruin any chance of meeting a girl.”

“I’m not going to no dumb dance,” Gavin quickly declines.

“Jim is coming home next week,” May diverts from her husband’s banter while concerning for her eldest.

“Anyway it will be Jim’s first turn to marry not mine,” Owen says.

“Possible he will pass the baton to you son,” Alf says.

“Maybe – hey Gavin what about you, do you have a girlfriend?” Owen diverts the questioning to his younger brother.

“Gavin is too young to be having girlfriends,” May says.

“I’m off to bed,” Gavin grumbles and departs company.

“Owen you mentioned Wednesday and Winnie while on the telephone to Chip, what’s on for Wednesday?” May asks.

“As I’ve already said Winnie is interested in nursing and Chip has arranged to introduce her to Ray Jenkins the base’s medical officer.”

“Winnie isn’t suited for nursing, as I remember she would all but faint at the sight of blood,” Alf discredits and continues in humorous tone, “and there was that time I took her down to watch the birth of the piglets and she was physically sick.”

“She is only going along to see what army nursing is about; I don’t think she is serious.”

“As long as looking is all she is doing,” Alf says.

“I always thought Winnie was sweet on Chip,” May says and drifts away into a land populated by romantic memories and projections of a large family wedding she intended for Winnie, being to a well healed local man, with standing in the community and not one from the military, especially a foreign military.

“Sometimes Megan-may your love making doesn’t go to plan,” Owen interrupts his mother’s dreaming.

“That isn’t how I meant it,” May protests.

“Too many of our fine young women are falling for American’s with their silks and perfume. The way it is going there won’t be anyone left in the country for Owen to hitch up with,” Alf attests.

“Roslyn Stewart,” May mentions without clarification.

“Who is Roslyn Stewart,” Alf asks.

“Len Stewart youngest from the property up on Millers Road,” May says in a disturbed tone as she collects her sewing and commences unpicking a number of stitches that have collected another part of the garment along with the mended rent.

“What of Roslyn?”

“She fell short with an American marine and now she is expecting. Her dear mother is distraught and Len has threatened to disown her.”

“Where do you hear such gossip mother?” Alf asks.

“Meg Ryan told me.”

“How is Winnie getting to the base?” Alf asks while wishing to divert a pleasant evening’s conversation away from fallen women and oversexed American servicemen.

“I am hoping I can drive her in the truck and thought she may need a chaperone.”

“You can take an order at the same time,” Alf agrees without question and pleased Winnie wouldn’t be attending the base on her own.

Wednesday morning and Owen arrives early to collect Winnie. On entering into the house he is relieved Sarah isn’t there to meet him, “where is Sarah?” he asks.

“She has left for work, I won’t be a mo’ just finishing my makeup,” Winnie calls from her room.

“What about you, how did you get the time off?” Owen calls through Winnie’s partly closed door.

“Pam is covering for me and will report that I called her at home, saying I’m feeling sick.”

“Have you told Pam why you are taking the day off work?”

“No.”

“Won’t Pam want to know why you are taking the day off?”

“I told her I wished to visit Aunt Ruth who isn’t well.”

“I suppose that will work but does Pam know Aunt Ruth?”

Winnie comes from her room, “fortunately not.”

“Are you ready?”

“No.”

“Do you want to call it off?” Owen asks.

“No.”

“Then come on,” Owen quietly encourages.

Instead Winnie is frozen to the linoleum covering of the living room floor and Owen is lost for words. Should he encourage, make fun of the procedure or remain silent.

Lengthy seconds pass.

“Time,” Owen quietly speaks.

“Yes time.”

The trip to the airfield was a most somber affair, gone Owen’s usual banter towards his sister, gone the intimacy between siblings. It wasn’t until they reached the gate before Winnie found words and none of them are positive.

“Should I go through with it?” She quietly asks Owen as the sentry leisurely approaches the truck, his rifle slung in such a position if attacked he would more than likely do damage to himself than any opponent.

“I can’t answer that question and will support you whatever you decide but whatever you decide it will need to be now and quickly.”

“I was thinking aloud. I have to go through with it, as I don’t think I could bare the alternative.”

“Why so, except for the obvious?”

“I’ve met someone and he has asked me,” Winnie whispers.

“Asked you what Winnie?”

“He has asked me to marry him.”

“It is the first I’ve heard of this new bloke of yours?”

“Never mind that,” she cuts short.

“Are you frightened?”

“Very much so – shush the guard will hear you.”

The guard firstly examines the contents on the tray then comes to the driver’s side. Standing on the truck’s running board he pokes his head through the open window. It is a different sentry than who Chip said would simply wave him through.

Owen is somewhat panicked.

“Owen Parker, isn’t it?”

“That’s the fellow.”

“Your delivery is early this week.”

“My dad has spoken to your lieutenant.”

“Has he now and who is the young lady?” His eyes are on Winnie’s low cut dress, becoming a welcomed distraction from any inquisitiveness towards their visit to the base.

“My sister Winnie.”

“Hello Winnie,” the guard tone is laced with sexual overtone.

“It has been arranged for Winnie to look around the medical facility – she is thinking of taking up nursing and has an appointment with the medic.”

“She would be a change from some of the rough-heads we get in the services,” the guard’s vision remains fixed on Winnie but obviously disregarding her presence in his conversation with Owen.

“Is everything alright?” Owen distracts.

“From where I stand I’d say so. What are you doing Saturday night girlie?” he asks Winnie.

“I have a boyfriend.”

“And I’m married but if you don’t tell her, I won’t.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Right you know where to go,” the guard waved them through as the officer of the day approaches.

“Pig,” Winnie comments towards the soldier’s attitude as Owen parks close by the medical hut and is immediately met by an officer wearing captain’s bars.

“You would be Ray Jenkins?” Owen asks.

“Yes that’s me and this would be Winnie?” he nods to Winnie through the truck window and warmly smiles.

“Hello,” Winnie attempts to be courteous but is obviously shaking with apprehension.

“Come along we have to be done and out of here within the hour.”

‘Done,’ Winnie thinks as Jenkins helps her down from the truck’s cabin.

“How far gone are you?” he asks as they enter into a Nissan hut, its door marked with a large red cross and a notice not to create loud noise in the vicinity of the medical facility.

“Only a few weeks,” Winnie’s voice is trembling and fading.

“Does the father know?”

“No.”

“Then it is fortunate he is flying today.”

“You won’t tell him?” Fear builds in Winnie.

“It’s none of my business but it as well, as the brass doesn’t like this sort of thing happening within the ranks, as it gives the service bad publicity and is a distraction from doing their job.”

Both follow Jenkins into the hut, finding it well appointed and servicing not only a ward but a number of small consulting rooms.

“No patients today,” Owen gives observation of the empty ward with its two rows of immaculately made beds.

“We appear to be a healthy lot at present,” Jenkins jokes and immediately guides Winnie towards one of the rooms, “you wait out here,” he directs to Owen.

“I have a delivery to make, should I do so while I am waiting?”

“No, I would rather you remain here.”

They enter and close the door.

“Now Winnie are you sure you want to go through with this procedure?” the medic clinically asks.

“Yes but will it hurt?”

“More uncomfortable I should think; you do realize it is a procedure that terminates what would one day become a young man.”

“Or a young woman,” Winnie corrects.

“Yes, or a young woman, so if you have doubts it is now you should say so, as termination can be somewhat distressing to live with.”

“No doubts only fears. How do you do it?” Winnie had heard many stories of knitting needles and bungled backyard terminations resulting in infections or worse.

“I’ll speak clinically. Unfortunately it will be quite personal, I will use a plastic tube that enters through the vagina into the uterus and flush out the pregnancy.”

“That almost sounds simple,” Winnie attempts to laugh.

“Simple yes and I assure you it will be hygienically executed.”

“How long will the procedure take?”

“Not long between five and fifteen minutes and then you can go home.”

Outside the room Owen quietly waits, his gaze is on a large notice warning of venereal disease with vivid diagrams of infected parts, others of tropical ulcers, their treatment and the many ailments that a tropical jungle can inflict. Beyond the hut’s window there is conversation, Owen fears they will enter and question. The conversation dies away, replaced by the sound of a motor vehicle with squeaky breaks. It parks alongside the hut and more voices are heard. Owen peers through the grim of the window and takes a worried breath as the occupants approach the hut doorway but is relieved when they continue toward the billets.

Five minutes silently pass and then another ten before the door to the consulting room opened. The doctor showed Winnie out, her hands trembling and face ashen.

“All done,” Owen says.

No one answers.

Jenkins placed his hand to the middle of Winnie’s back as he guides her towards the exit, “I want you to take it easy for a day or so and you shouldn’t feel any ill effects.”

“Can I go back to work tomorrow?”

“You could but I rather you didn’t,” The doctor then addresses Owen, “I hope I can trust you both to keep this quiet.”

Owen agrees.

“I’ll speak with Chip Miller when he returns, now I think you should be away, as I have a number of patients arriving in a short while.”

“Thank you,” Winnie says, her voice trailing to whisper.

“You take it easy now Winnie,” Jenkins advises and returns to his consulting room.

At the gate they are again met by the same sentry, who through boredom or still smarting from Winnie’s previous rejection, decides to again check the contents of the truck before allowing it to pass.

The guard takes his time.

With his head poking out of the truck’s window Owen calls, “hey mate is there a problem back there?”

Eventually the guard comes to the passenger window.

“Empty,” the guard says regarding the truck’s contents.

“What did you expect?”

“There has been a lot of pilfering of late, can’t be too careful,” the guard then returns his attention towards Winnie. “Any further thoughts on going to the dance night?” he asks.

“Not if -.”

“If what girlie?”

“Not if you were the last pig on earth,” she growls as Owen quickly moves the truck away.

The drive back into town was quiet with the first words spoken by Owen as he pulled up outside Winnie’s house. “Will you be alright being alone?”

“Sarah will be home from her shift in a little while.”

“How do you feel?”

“A little strange but otherwise I’m fine.”

“I will call you this evening.”

“No, you go now Owen or you will have dad on your back. I’ll be fine and don’t use the telephone otherwise you will have mum asking questions and I may not be able to hold the lie.”

Owen waits until Winnie is inside the house before departing. Once home he would have to explain Winnie’s thoughts on her visit to the base and if she remains interested in nursing. He commences to formulate answers but after his failure to do so when he met up with his Cousin Gregory, he decided to simply answer with whatever came to mind when asked.

After returning home Owen was barely through the door before May began her questions on Winnie’s visit to the bases medical establishment. May wished to know everything but more so why Winnie hadn’t confided in her, as during her last visit to the farm, she appeared to avoid any conversation on her wishes to do nursing, while what she did offer was vague.

“I think Winnie has a new feller’,” Owen offered under stress from May’s questions and the developing lie. Immediately he regretted speaking.

“Who is she seeing?”

“I don’t know any more than that.”

“Owen you must know something otherwise you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“She only mentioned it in passing.”

“Is he from the town, possibly it is Leon Colyer, his father has the chemist and was once keen on Winnie.”

“It could be, she didn’t say.”

“Never mind I suppose she will let us know in her own time.”

“I suppose she will,” Owen concluded, knowing that once he was gone from company May would be on the telephone to Winnie. He curses himself for speaking and knew he would be well chastised at his next meeting with his sister.

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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