On The Wallaby

Short Story:

By Lorna Crouch

THE weary Sinabada stacked the last of the dinner dishes together, and breathed a sigh of relief when she reminded herself, for the hundredth time, that the house boy would be back to morrow from his weekly day off. The water supply had failed again. And Port Moresby, without water, without help in the house, without one’s own transport, was hard to take.

So, washing the dishes in a small amount of water, the lady of the paper house (wood is a rare commodity in post war Port Moresby), wiped her hands and hung the tea-towel up to dry. She frowned at it. She would certainly have to get rid of her laundry-boy. He never worked more than three hours a day for his big wage. And the colour of the linen! Leaving the kitchen, she walked out on to the verandah, “Ralph!” she called. The man stretched out on the cane lounge stirred. “Yes, Marj. What’s the matter? You look worried.”

“It’s that laundry boy. He has no idea of washing clothes. He uses all the soap I give him and takes more when I’m not looking. I’m going to sack him.”

“Very well, my dear.” The man put down his two-weeks-old newspaper. “But do you think you can get another boy?”

The lady of the house sat up very straight and determined. “If I can’t, I’ll do it myself.”

“How long do you think you’ll last, boil ing up things in the open on a hot day and carrying the wet clothes up to that line, stuck on the hill as it is?” A further unhappy thought occurred to him. “And, I’ll have to chop the wood then. I’ll have to help you, too!”

There was a frown on the lady’s prim rose atabrin-tinted forehead.

“And look at your trousers, Ralph. He’s a shocking ironer.”

“He’s a trier, Marj. A lot of the chaps’ trousers aren’t any better!”

“That’s not true. You just don’t want to chop the wood.”

Ralph laughed it off. “You’re tired to night. To-morrow when the house-boy is back and on the job again you’ll feel better able to cope with the laundry.”

She relaxed her aching bones against the canvas of the chair. She had carried her purchases two miles, watching with envy the trucks and jeeps speed by her, driven by natives and often carrying native passengers. Then the wood had been green and wouldn’t burn and the dinner was therefore late. The laundry boy had gone off early, as usual, and not until after he had gone had she discovered that there was no water coming through the taps. She had to carry two buckets full from a fortunate neighbour who had a tank.

The night was cool. The long day was over. To-morrow she would sew while Loki, the boy, worked.

The evening hours slipped away. The lady wrote three letters South to her family and left a pile of torn-up pages and old envelopes for the houseboy to clear away in the morning.

She bathed in a small basin of water and retired to her cool bed under the net. Stretching herself luxuriously, she was thankful that the house-boy’s day off had passed. But to-morrow was washing day, so she breathed a prayer that some thing would be done about the water supply.

RALPH was up before six but his wife slept on, dreaming of holidays South with the children. She woke in time to say good-bye.

“Did Loki get the breakfast properly?’*’ she asked, handing him the white helmet that she had cleaned herself.

“Loki’s got fever,” said Ralph. He kissed his wife. “Oh, and the water’s still off.”

She watched her cheery husband hurry down the front steps and out to the road to catch his friend who had a jeep. She felt giddy. She remembered that the wood was still green.

Quinine, of course. She would give the boy a good dose. Quinine worked wonders The boy should have some aspirin, too.

Then she remembered that she had just finished all her quinine tablets. Ralph was trying out a new drug, but his wife had faith in quinine and quinine only.

There was nothing for it but to walk over the hill to her friend’s place and borrow some tablets. She dressed quickly and set off with sun glasses and sunshade.

An hour later she returned and went straight to the “boyhouse” where Loki slept. The laundry-boy did not sleep there—she knew very little about his movements, if it came to that. He came and went unobstrusively, washing and ironing as the spirit moved him.

She presented the pills to the boy under the green Army net. He did not appear grateful but swallowed them with an effort and fell back with a grunt. Be lieving that a little psychology is a very good thing she said brightly, “You’ll be better by ten o’clock.”

Hot and uncomfortable after her long walk in the heat and longing for a drink of ice-cold water she entered the house with her thoughts on the refrigerator.

There was no ice-water left. Ralph must have finished it.

She was relieved to find that at last a little water was now dribbling through the pipes. She set about the day’s work by gathering up the scattered papers from the night before and crammed them into the stove to make the wood burn. Then she began sweeping.

AT ten o’clock Loki came cheerfully up the steps and gallantly accepted the broom. The lady regarded her patient curiously. It seemed that Loki’s fever had gone, if indeed it had ever been. He’d probably been gambling all night long and possibly had nothing left of his month’s pay.

But it was a bad start. Also, she had to guard against Loki getting “fever” again if he thought he was working too hard. So she helped him clean the silver and arrange the flowers.

The laundry-boy had arrived and was watching patiently the trickle of water slowly fill the buckets. She knew her best sheets were in the boil to-day and that the minimum amount of water would be used and she visualised the result with a shudder. There were some things it seemed one couldn’t escape from in this laundry boy.

But it was a very hot day. Better not to sack him now.

Loki kept a rag tied round his head to remind his Sinabada that he had a head ache She kept her eye on the boy as she sat on the verandah in the half hour be fore lunch and did a little sewing.

Then he appeared before her, a smile from ear to ear. “Sinabada. my brothers

they come.” Crowding around the open kitchen door were a group of the biggest natives ever to visit civilisation, smiling confidently in the lady's direction.

Of course! Native custom demanded a free meal from the brother working in the big city and the men just arrived by canoe from the back of beyond were look ing forward to tinned meat and tea.

Loki explained that he had spent all his money. Could he borrow some of the tins of meat from the storeroom, and some tea? With a deep sigh the lady put down her sewing and went to examine the shelves of her store. Another ship was due from South any day. It was just as well. There were few tins left and the big stores in the town had sold out of everything except bully-beef. She looked at the savages, wonderingly pointing out to each other the cupboards and utensils, and for some inexplicable reason (perhaps it was the heat)*jshe handed all but one tin to Loki. TMtship might be in to morrow.

O, kind Sinabada. Very good Sinabada.

Then they all disappeared into the boy house. Loki’s mind was certainly not on the preparations for lunch and, in desperation, she sent him off to join his “brothers.”

“T>AD show that boy having fever, Marj.

O Makes a lot of work for you.” Ralph patted the shoulder of his brave wife.

She was too tired to go into lengthy ex planations and changed the subject.

As she gathered the dishes and pre pared to wash them Loki came hurrying up the steps to beg for some sugar. He shook his head sadly at the sight of his Sinabada stacking dishes.

“Sorry, Sinabada,” he said sincerely, “me wash-em quick-time.”

At three o’clock they were still un washed and there were no messages done.

It would have to be dinner out of the last tin to-night. Loki would have to walk into town and try to get some vege tables or fruit. She called to the boy.

He came cheerfully and agreed to go at once. His brothers would wash the dishes. Off he went, attended by two big men who were to see the sights of the big city for the first time. Two other men, witlj broad smiles and enormous limbs, had shyly taken i&ssession of the kitchen under orders from Loki. and were handling the plates uncertainly.

They understood no word she said, but kept on smiling and swilling the plates in the soapless water. So in the end she gave it up and retired to the verandah.

She avoided looking in the direction of the clothes line. The laundry boy had once again finished the washing in so re markably short a space of time that it gave no confidence in the result.

Hours passed and the kitchen helpers retired to the boyhouse and slept. Loki was late. Ralph would be home before long. At 5.30 Loki returned. He flung an empty bag on the floor. No vegetables.

But he had seen his master who had given him this note.

The Watsons had arrived by plane from Lae and as there was no room in the hotels he had asked them to stay.

They would be out for dinner.

That gave her half an hour to organise dinner for four. It was with the false hope of the desperate that she scanned the shelves of the storeroom again and again. One tin only! She began to feel a burning at the back of her eyes.

The stove would not be hot enough for scones or cake for hours yet. Loki was only lighting it now in a leisurely fashion.

As the fever mounted to her brain she imagined she could hear the engine of the jeep. And the Watsons would see her badly-washed clothes on the line. They had such good boys and their home was perfectly run. What would they think of her? It was like a nightmare.

She felt delirious and began to confide in the houseboy that she hadn’t enough food for her guests.

The four “brothers,” seated on the steps, asked for the lady’s speech to be translated. This being done, there was much talking and waving of hands and suddenly the audience disappeared towards the beach. Loki smiled encouragingly at the Sinabada standing so still at the storeroom door.

“My friends bring plenty kaikai,” he said nicely.

As the lady of the paper house watched the last tin of M and V heating on the stove, the jeep drove up and the Watsons arrived. They were delighted to see Marj. again, so well, too—quite a colour. So very good of her to have them.

The guests were shown to their room and explanations were made about the water supply, and then the lady left them

to answer her houseboy's call from the back of the house.

Four grinning men were placing raw sago and bunches of cooking bananas on the floor. There were coconuts also. Loki was delighted with his friends. They were his true brothers. They come from a village where there was always plenty of food. Moresby was no good. He pointed to a banana leaf wrapped into a parcel, Inside, he said, was wallaby. * * * HHHEY sat on the verandah and Ralph X gave them drinks. The ice tinkled peacefully against the frosting glasses, Ralph’s wife chatted unconcernedly. “Mrs.

Watson,” she said gravely, “I hope you don’t mind, but we dine rather late here, rm afraid. Wallaby does take such a lot of cooking, too, doesn’t it?”