Chapter 6

I asked mum whether she minded Jimmy joining us, too. She said "Of course not" and asked whether I thought Sandra might "like" being seated between Jacky and Jimmy. I roared. I also realised that mum was fully aware of one daughter-in-law's prejudices.

"No, but you could put Jacky between Weena and me and Jimmy on the far side of her. He's her patient."

"Yes. She already told me not to give him meat."

Dinner was a bit strange. It was clear that Andy and Becky were extremely curious about Jacky and Jimmy, but were afraid to ask questions. Sandra observed them washing up and noted that they both used knife and fork, but she was offended and felt she was the butt of some sort of joke. Mum, dad, David, and I had known Jacky for about 25 years, maybe a bit more, and most likely he'd eaten more meals here than Sandra had. And adding in Jimmy was nothing.

Dad talked about the cattle and Jacky participated in that. But curiosity ate at Weena.

"Jimmy, why would your dad come here?"

"He happy I'm better. Wanna thank you."

Jacky added: "Jimmy son of the chief, the leader of the Kullila. Weena, the band, the tribe is in your debt."

"I didn't know."

"That's why it's important. You and Gordy helped a sick person without knowing who he was. It's like the stories they told in church. You were good Samaritans. You did not pass by on the other side. You did not care that he wasn't European. Gordy and David and their dad and mum have been good to me since I was Andy's age. Jimmy now knows this. Jimmy's dad knows this. And soon many different bands will know, too.

"Jimmy's dad will come to honour you."

"So Weena did something important?" asked Becky.

"I'm a nurse, sweetie. Everytime I cure someone. it's important. Everyone I take care of is important to me. Jacky thinks it's special because I didn't care who Jimmy was. All I cared about was that he was sick and I could help. So I did. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. You and Gordy go around doing good things. Helpin' people."

"Not quite."

"Daddy said you helped people near the Alice and that Gordy helped the Navy," put in Andy.

"They've got you," I added. "May as well be a heroine."

"And part of that's helping me clear table before dessert," said mum.

I looked at Jimmy. "Jacky, why don't I run you and Jimmy back to your site? I don't think he should walk so far tonight."

"Sure thing, Gordy."

Jacky stuck his head in the kitchen and thanked mum. Then he thanked dad ("boss") and he and a visibly tired Jimmy said "bye" to everyone. We went outside. About halfway to the camp, Jimmy fell asleep.

When I got home it was to get the tail end of Sandra orating on how we shouldn't have had Jacky and Jimmy over. " ... their kind."

"Sandra, I think you should just shut up and take your children home," I heard Weena say. "I can't tell you what I think with them here. And I think you should try life without your head in one of your orifices."

"What's 'orry fishes'?" asked Andy as I walked in the door.

"Glad you're back, Gordy," David said. "We were just getting ready to go."

"Yes," said Dad. "The girls were just saying adoo."

Five minutes later they were gone. "You did tell me she was a bitch," Weena remarked. Mum and dad both laughed.

Monday morning I called Janice and asked her whether she could obtain the two reports and send them to me in Queensland. We chit-chatted a bit and then I had another cup of coffee. I saw Jacky by the fence and went out to say hello. He told me that Jimmy was OK, but felt weak. I asked him how he was doing generally. It turned out that Jacky had met a woman he liked. But he didn't want to go live in one of the Brisbane suburbs and have a "town job." I told him I had an idea and perhaps he could come by either this afternoon or tomorrow (Tuesday) morning.

"Tomorrow. I've got to ride the east fence today." I nodded. He got a wire-stretcher, cutters, and a coil of wire from the shed and headed towards the barn. Some of the work could be done using an ATV, but a horse was more reliable for a lot of things.

It was 10am. I went to see whether Weena was up. She was sitting at the table chatting with mum.

"Is dad around?"

"He's in the southeast pasture. The forage is getting thin in the southwest so he's got Jacky and Algy riding the fences and he's checking the grass. If it looks OK, they'll move the cattle on Thursday or Friday. He may sort them, too. There's a buyer from Vietnam looking for meat for export. He's travelling now, but he's supposed to be at the Roma Yards next Tuesday. Your dad thought he might have six loads of fats ready. He'll talk to you tonight as he's got a problem about live shipment."

We did talk after dinner. Dad was worried because there were news reports of livestock deaths in transit. "It may not be maltreatment," I told him. "When Charlie's cattle were shipped from the states, several disappeared into the ship's galley. Oh, I'm certain a couple died or were washed overboard in storms. But..."