Published: 17 Feb 2025

Work: It was something that sneaked up on Kevin without announcing its arrival. Firstly during the Christmas long break of sixty-three sixty-four he was back to Mareeba, even if his return, as explained in an earlier chapter, was somewhat precarious. Once his mother came down from the station everything settled into what school holidays should be, although Kevin had a measure of concern towards the following year and his return to school.

Like all holiday work it comes to an end and decisions need to be made. Would it be school or – The or was something Kevin had not remotely considered and as his mother with her new partner Bob Ferguson, decided to try share farming there would need to be a new school in a new town and not Mareeba, nor would it be back to the hostel as there wouldn’t be spare money for his board. After some deliberation Kevin called an end to his school days deciding to go onto the land. Ivy attempted to sway Kevin’s decision but the idea of permanently finishing his education remained strong with the lad and once said it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders as adrenalin surged in a wave of happiness.
 
 
“So you became a farmer?” Neil suggests.

“Possibly a farmer’s offsider could be more accurate but I remained in holiday mode and wouldn’t call it work. True I found myself bagging spuds and picking beans but there was much downtime for exploring the East Barron region of the Atherton Tableland.”

Kevin pauses with a frown.

“What are you thinking?”

“Something has occurred to me. At that time Bob Ferguson had a shop in Mareeba, so what would have been my future if he kept the shop and didn’t take on share farming.”

“What do you think would have occurred?”

“That’s the sixty-four dollar question in the year of sixty-four. Possibly I would have returned to complete my education in Mareeba and without the distraction of the hostel, may have applied myself and gone on and finished high school before taken on work in a bank or local office.”

“Would that have been bad?”

“If so I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you now.”

“Possibly so, what happened when you went onto the farm?”

“It soon became obvious Bob wasn’t a farmer, more a market gardener and much too trusting of others. The owner of the property stung him badly so Bob returned to what he knew best that being shopkeeping and he opened yet a shop in Atherton. With the decision to open the shop and still on the farm there became a problem being who was going to work the shop. Mum was quick in taking herself from offering therefore Bob turned to me.”

“Yes I recollect you mentioned working in a shop – go on.”

“I believe I have mentioned boarding with a family and Michael.”

“You did mention Michael and somewhat explicitly.”

“So it was off the farm and into town to run the family business.”

“What was the pay like?”

“For a kid used to two shillings a week, ten pound ($20) was a virtual fortune, even after paying five pounds a week for board at the Robertson’s.”

“Although you have already mentioned the change I’ve never really understood old currency to new, for the tape explain shillings, pounds and pennies to dollars and cents.”

“To simplify, a shilling would be ten cents and a pound two dollars but don’t try to equate value as too many years have passed. Sometimes I think back on two shillings and in my head it remains a fair amount but twenty cents, if you dropped it onto the ground you probably wouldn’t bother picking it up. Do you know how we got pound shillings and pennies?”

“I had never needed to think about it – go on.”

“The pound comes from Latin Libra Pondo, which is a weight and there were two hundred and forty silver pennies making a pound weight of silver.”

“Interesting.”

“And then you have L.S.D and I don’t mean the drug.”

Neil laughs, “go on.”

“The L, is for Libra Pondo in Latin, being the pound weight. S, is the shilling that is either early German or Anglo-Saxon and the D, is for the penny but comes from the Roman coinage of Denarius, becoming pounds, shillings and pence – and to top the story the British pound is the world’s oldest continual currency with it beginning in the year eight hundred, making it over twelve hundred years old even with its many metamorphoses.”

“Umm.”

“Sorry Neil I got a bit carried away there.”

“I find it interesting. Then we have you as a shopkeeper, how did that go?”

“In most it was fine but I found Bob’s attitude a little difficult to accept, he would come in from the farm and immediately commence picking on my work ethics. In retrospect I suppose he had cause but you should realise I had little to no training in how to manage a shop and to make matter worse he would criticise me in front of the customers.”

“What kind of business was it?”

“Greengrocery; over time Bob had shops in Atherton also Mareeba but as I previously said he was a bad businessman, therefore he suffered many failures. Also Bob was much too trusting of others while accepting all he met at face value. He was the type of fellow who if you gave him a hard luck story would give you his last dollar.

“Did the business survive?”

“It did for a couple of years even after I returned down here to Melbourne, leaving my mother to suffer Bob’s criticism but on my first holiday back to Queensland they had again set up business in Mareeba and appeared for once to be prosperous.”

“Tell me a little more of your time in Atherton after leaving school.”

“Did I tell you I started a commercial art class by correspondence sent up from Melbourne?”

“You did.”

“I also joined the local theatrical club.”

“How did that go?”

“It didn’t; the average age of its members would have been forty-five and women; even the men were old women. What I expected and what was on offer wasn’t compatible, I thought within a week I would be playing a character in some Shakespearian play, possibly giving an academy performance of Marc Antony’s funeral oration, friends Romans and Countrymen, lend me your ears et-cetera, instead I was to be the muscle behind arranging sets, I suppose you could say I was to be the local theatrical society’s go-for.”

“Go-for?” Neil asks.

“Go for it.”

“Therefore you didn’t get an acting part.”

“Nope, I only lasted for one meeting.”
 
 
There was a further flaw in Kevin’s acting ability, that being reading aloud in public. During his final year of primary school the teacher would have the class stand in turn and read from the class reader, or some novel set for the year’s curriculum. If in solitude and being his wish Kevin could read aloud until the cows came home but in public he froze, which appeared contradictory to his usual gregarious disposition. Instead while waiting his turn Kevin would become nervous and when it was his turn to read, he would stand and within half a sentence lose his place then muff the words.

Sit down Barker you’re useless was the teacher’s response.

From then on Kevin Barker became useless at reading aloud in public.

As an adult and working, there were times when Kevin needed to attend training courses and guess what, the course instructor entertained him, or herself but having those in attendance read passages from the manuals. Also there were work projects and necessity to deliver them coherently. Kevin recalled the first time he had to deliver a project and how his hands shook so badly it was necessary to hold the page at opposite corners and pull in adverse directions, thus removing the tremble. What saved the day he turned to comedy and found once he had his audience laughing he was fine. Eventually with much effort Kevin become efficient but he never forgot those damaging words from his grade eight teacher – Sit down Barker, you’re useless
 
 
“So we have you living and working in Atherton and by your account you didn’t like the town,” Neil suggests.

“It wasn’t the town but those who lived in it. I was an outsider and like many small communities you need to be born there to be accepted.”
 
 
Atherton is a pleasant town in the heart of its tableland, surrounded by high mountains and green pasture. Although Mareeba is larger and considered to be the principle centre, the two towns are, as the adage goes, like chalk or cheese, Mareeba being the gateway to cattle country could be said to have a playful disposition. On the other hand Atherton leans more towards farming while displaying a reserve character, having a hard husk to break through if you are an outsider.

Kevin may not have enjoyed Atherton although for anyone who wished to visit the town and its Tableland would find much to entertain, being the perfect environment to bring up a family.

Although the Tableland is well north and tropical leaning towards two seasons the wet and the dry, during the cooler months a visitor could be forgiven for believing they were far to the south. The topography was once volcanic having extinct volcanic lakes and mountains in abundance, while the rich red soil and generous rainfall could grow any crop one wished to plant, even grapes near Herberton.

As for wildlife there are kangaroos that climbs trees, the cuscus an animal the size of a cat similar to a possum (opossum) and a large flightless bird the cassowary, growing to five feet being more than capable of killing a man with its powerful legs. Before the turn of the twentieth century the tablelands had a strong indigenous population but since most had been moved on to make way for clearing of the tropical forest for farming, leaving little of the rain forest to become pockets of nature reserve.
 
 
For Kevin his year living the life of a farmer gave him time to look inward, that being a novelty for the lad, as with most things he skipped over the surface of his emotional character like a stone across a shallow reality, with little interest in politics or furthering a niche in adult society. In Kevin’s mind he remained at the hostel amongst a host of ideas and tribulations, none of which he had taken serious often bringing him into strife. No man is an island and young boys are no different, you are either with us or and the ‘or’ was something Kevin often failed to contemplate during his time at the hostel, even so he remembered the good times and comradely. Now he was pining for the masses, the cries of kids at play, the joining together of the like minded but most of all he was missing the regimented way of hostel life.

Kevin’s workload on the farm had been light as Bob’s share of the land was small, possibly no more than two acres being planted with seed potatoes and stringless beans, which once planted in the well watered rich volcanic soil of the Tablelands, required little further attention. Once in the shop he was expected to clean and restock shelves but most of all he needed to be subservient towards the customers. At times he did what was required, that is when he had run out of comics from the shop’s book exchange.
 
 
For entertainment while on the farm there was the radio, or wireless depending on one’s vernacular preference and little more. Being the early sixties the radio waves were chocked with news on the war in Vietnam and the need for conscription. As Kevin was seventeen the chance towards conscription was something too far too consider. Nevertheless his mother showed concern.

“When it’s your turn to register for National Service, I want you to join the navy;” was his mother’s advice after an evening’s news reports on the arrival of Australian troops at some place called Vung Tau.

“Why?”

“You will be safer, as North Vietnam doesn’t have a navy.”

Truthfully North Vietnam did have a navy but wasn’t strong enough to give America too much trouble except possibly during the Gulf or Tonkin incident involving the USS Maddox. Kevin shrugged away his mother’s request although some years later when in the city and having to register he did realise the value of his mother’s advice. By then he would have been pleased to join the ranks of young good looking, lean twenty year old men but not to fight, it would be for the regerminated life he still desired from his years at the hostel.

When it was Kevin’s turn to register his mother was no longer present to give advice and he had developed a measure of excitement towards national service. Eager or not his birth date wasn’t selected from the barrel and for a moment he felt disappointed. In retrospect it could be said that was one lottery he was fortunate not to have won.

Kevin was no different to others born in the years after the Second World War, lacking in understanding of the hardship endured by fighting men. The would be soldiers of the fifties and sixties hadn’t seen their mates blown apart, suffered from bad health brought on by the heat and mud on the slopes of the New Guinea’s mountains and lacked understanding towards that day in April when Diggers (WW2 soldiers from Tobruk) gathered in numbers to drink away memories while rekindling past friendships.

Ivy had a brother fighting away during that war, who on being brought back from fighting the Germans and Italians in North Africa was dumped into the waiting arms of the Japanese on the Island of Borneo. From capture it was a short distance to Changi in Singapore, then to the Burma Rail and Hellfire Pass, before ended as a slave digging coal back in Japan. Kevin’s uncle had survived the prison camps, even the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki but he now lived far away and even if Kevin asked, his uncle never spoke of those times. In the most those who really suffered the war didn’t share their experiences, besides if they did those who were not amongst their ranks could never understand. Kevin had another uncle who was too young for war service but during the occupation of Japan as part of the occupational forces and posted close to Hiroshima thankfully he received no adverse effects from nuclear radiation and lived into his nineties.
 
 
Once away from the farm and living in town Kevin believed he would find a number of like minded lads ready to befriend his interests but he was an outsider and most lads of his age remained at school, those who left early from education usually went bush becoming timber getters, stockmen or drifted down the coast to the sugar farms and fishing boats.

During his year in Atherton, Kevin never felt more alone, even his time on the farm wasn’t as lonely as town life. There was the unrequited affiliation with the lad where he found board but Michael, or Mick as he was growing to prefer, remained at school in his final year. There were also Michael’s sisters who all but ignored him and his girlfriend Judy, who was fifteen and besotted.

Kevin was not.

Sex:

It is a small word with a huge responsibility and Kevin was as irresponsible as any lad of his age. On a number of occasions he attempted to take his relationship with Judy further but wandering hands brought about rejection most severe, so it was kissing and late evening walks with the occasional theatre night and more kissing. Kevin hated the kissing as it led to nothing but a gut full of creamy makeup or lipstick and did young girls in the sixties trowel it on. Besides he lacked flair and not taking the night to a more erotic level was considered nothing but a waste of time.

Sex for Kevin was simply a valve to release pressure as the ins and outs of intercourse were never realised, as for foreplay that had not been introduced to the vocabulary of the sixties youth, no more than responsibility for their actions.
 
 
At this point Neil interrupts, “I have had a thought,” he says.

“What would that be?”

“Your girlfriend Judy, what if she gave you permission?”

“Do you mean for sex?”

“Yes, what if she obliged and became pregnant?”

“Ow, that is something I didn’t consider at the time or since. That would have thrown a spanner into the works. Possibly I would have had two options, the first to marry her, the second leave for Melbourne sooner than I intended.”

“So you would have married Judy?”

“I don’t think Judy’s family would allow the marriage. Mum wouldn’t have been pleased but would have supported me. Therefore as I said more than likely it would have been an early departure for Melbourne.”

“Anyway continue by what you were saying you were ready to leave Atherton.”
 
 
There was another reason towards Kevin’s decision to leave Atherton, being an innocent late night encounter with Michael. Kevin had enjoyed a picture night with Judy and on returning home found Michael in bed with the light out. At that time Michael’s room was an enclosed portion of the house verandah, next to that was the room for his sister.

Returning to a dark house Kevin realised Michael was home. Innocently he entered into Michael’s room and commenced conversation, most likely about Judy or the movie he had seen. Kevin was seated on the bed when he heard the front door open. It was Michael’s Sister Leah returning from a night at a school function. “Are you in bed Michael?” she softly called.

“I am; how was your night?”

“Wendy asked after you.”

“Did she – what did she say?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning, goodnight,” Leah softly calls as she goes to her room.

“Goodnight,” Michael responds.

Kevin also and foolishly responds; “goodnight Leah.”

Leah’s door closes and soon after Kevin returned to his room.

No hanky panky that night.

The following day Michael’s mother takes issue with Kevin, challenging him on why he was in Michael’s room with the light out.

“Nothing, I had just returned home from going to the movies and was talking, that is all.”

Kevin’s reason wasn’t fully accepted and from then on there was a chill between Kevin and the family.

Soon after Kevin’s challenge from Mrs. Robinson, Michael once again left home, accepting work with the father of one of his school mates. Now Kevin is limited to one friend and that is Judy, who wishes to take their relationship to the level of a promise when she finished school they would marry. Even so they were both too young to consider anything other than a picture night, not forgetting the kissing and Judy had made it clear that there wouldn’t be anything else without a ring on her finger.

Over the following weeks Kevin’s situation at the Robinsons remained cold, the girls avoided him and their mother hinted as Kevin’s mother and Bob had recently taken up residence in town, possibly it was time for him to live there. Decision number two is made, Kevin would return to Melbourne and his maternal grandparents, so with his first year at the shop approaching and holiday time owing, he would depart soon after.
 
 
Neil intervenes, “explain again what was decision one?”

“If you recollect it was to give up returning to school.”

“Did the situation at the Robinson’s improve once you had decided to leave?”

“A little but it was obvious nothing would be the same, especially since Michael had left home.”

“Did you see any of the Robinsons again after you left for the city?”

“Yes I visited when I travelled home on a number of occasions but it was some years before I met up with Michael. It was when Wayne and I drove home and he met my mother. We stayed in Mareeba and travelled to Atherton to visit the Robinsons and Michael happened to be home at the time.” Kevin smiles, “mulberry pie,” he says.

“Why do you mention mulberry pie?”

“The Robinsons had a huge mulberry tree in the back yard, the mulberries were in season and she had made a pie. It was the first time Wayne had tasted mulberries.”

“So you spoke with Michael.”

“Yes while Wayne was in conversation with Mrs. Robinson and enjoying his piece of pie, Michael and I had a conversation in his room.”

“Did Michael remember your night visits?”

“I think he did although he changed the story, saying if his mother looked in on him, I would pretend to be him in bed while he hit the town with his mates.”

“That sounds a little convoluted.”

“I suppose it was better than admitting anything about our little late night capers.”

“So you introduced Wayne to your mother, did she realize your association with Wayne?”

“I never said anything but mothers can work things out, besides I have never admitted being gay to anyone who wasn’t gay.”

“What would have happened if you did?”

“That is a good question, possibly not a lot. Besides I never considered myself gay, simply a lad who liked playing around with men and one day I would marry and have lots of kids.”

“Therefore you were in denial?”

“Possibly, or as I have already said I never thought too deeply on life or my future only the now, I suppose you could describe my attitude as hedonistic – a goodtime boy. Although I must admit I feared being branded as gay.”

“And were you ever called out?”

“Not directly although I recollect there were often innuendoes especially at work here in Melbourne.”

“Not at the hostel?”

“It was different at the hostel as we used the word poof (gay) as both insult and complement without relating its insinuation and unless you were caught at it then everyone was straight.”

“At it you say.”

“Well fiddling about, even now I could name at least ten fiddlers during my second time at the hostel.”

“Do you remain in contact with any of them?”

“A couple but nothing is said, I guess it is like the old adage, when we were boys we play at boy’s games and as adults we put them aside.”

“Some don’t put them aside.”

“True but in the most I didn’t realise men’s games until I met Wayne, I had no idea there were saunas and gay clubs, or shacking up together.”

“What about when you returned to Melbourne when you were eleven, did you make many friends?”

“Not at first, it wasn’t until my grandparents bought a new house and I went to the third Melbourne school but the friendship only lasted for a number of months.”

“Why was that?”
 
 
Late in sixty-one while Kevin was living with his grandparents at their new house in Westall, there was a new state primary school built over the back fence and unknown to Kevin he had been enrolled there for grade six in the following year.

During the building of the school Kevin and a local lad he had befriended used the site and unoccupied building as their playground. One of their games was to climb high in the rooms and jump into the bundles of insulation. It come to pass their game wasn’t very sapient as the insulation was made from glass wool ending in a multitude of itching scratches, also being discovered in the act and told to bugger off or the security guard would fetch the cops.

With the commencement of the sixty-two school year, Kevin became closer to his friend Jimmy Potts as they were in the same class. Often Kevin would spend much of the weekend in Jimmy’s company at his mother’s house. Jimmy’s mother was divorced and to make end’s meet she often worked weekends, leaving the boys alone at the house but they were responsible enough and didn’t cause trouble. Even so Kevin often made guarded remarks about sex which Jimmy either didn’t understand or pretended not to.

It was Saturday afternoon with the boys home alone when they received a visit from Jimmy’s uncle Ted who arrived tanked to the eyebrows on booze. Out of courtesy Jimmy allowed his uncle into the house. Teddy made himself comfortable on the couch with Kevin at the far end and Jimmy on a separate chair.

It wasn’t long before Ted’s intention became obvious, possibly that was why Jimmy took a distant chair. Ted began by fiddling with himself as he made suggestions towards Kevin. Usually anything to do with sex was of interest to Kevin but Ted was a man in his thirties and obviously drunk, besides even if it was his desire Kevin would never do anything with Jimmy present. In a way Kevin egged Ted on while Jimmy remained silently detached.

Ted then asked Kevin if he had ever been ‘nightied’. Kevin nervously laughed as the word meant nothing to him but became clear when Ted commenced fiddling with his fly buttons; it was obvious Ted and had wet his pants. Kevin watched as Ted unbuttoned his flies bringing out his member, laying it across his damp crotch. It was a strange sight resembling a large sagging sausage and no matter how much Ted fiddled he couldn’t bring on an erection. Then without warning Ted reached across and groped Kevin, who allowed the fiddle for a few seconds more out of shock before he scarpered from the room with Jimmy close behind with both boys laughing while mocking Ted’s intentions.

Later that night while Kevin was in bed with his mother on nightshift there was a visitor. At the time Kevin’s Uncle Brian was living at home and answered the door. Moments later he is in Kevin’s room saying Jimmy’s mother wished to talk to him. It appeared Jimmy had told his mother about the visit from his Uncle Ted, saying Ted had ‘nightied’ Kevin, that is if Ted’s quick and failed grope on Kevin could be considered anything but an unwanted molestation, even so the woman wasn’t accepting Kevin’s account saying he was no longer welcome at the house.

Once the woman departed it was Uncle Brian who continued with the interrogation but Kevin held to his story, besides nothing had happened even if he had been interested in what Ted was about but being interested didn’t mean wished for it to go further. Eventually Kevin was allowed to return to his bed and the episode put aside. If anything had been said between his uncle, his mother and grand parents it was never shared with Kevin. As for Jimmy, they still met at school but the friendship was definitely broken and a short time later Kevin and Ivy returned to Queensland.
 
 
“It appears you were badly done by,” Neil suggests.

“Yes even now I find it confusing and I don’t understand why Jimmy said anything, then in retrospect possibly it wasn’t Jimmy but his uncle who told Jimmy’s mother. At the time he was drunk enough to say anything.”

“Here’s a related question, what about pornography back in the fifties and sixties?”

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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