Wandering Girl (2 page)

Every month we had to change our duties, like whoever used to wash pots or wash the dishes, or clean the dining room up after meals, would change to the laundry duties or the kitchen duties and or, and or...

We used to attend school at the mission. I guess I wasn't very bright, I stayed in grade seven for two years. I couldn't even tell the time when I left school to become a working girl on the mission. This meant you had to help on the mission till you were old enough, like fifteen or sixteen, to go out and work for white people.

The way I learnt to tell the time was through the nun I used to work with in the kitchen pointing at the different times she wanted me there to help her. If I wasn't there on time I used to get a hit!

I'll never forget the Christmas parties we used to have at the mission every year. It was a sad time - sad because most of the kids used to go home to their families while others like me always stayed behind. We had no-one to go to. Instead we used to have to help do all the jobs, like the harvesting, though that used to be a lot of fun.

Out we would go into the paddocks with the brothers and some of the nuns. Since there weren't so many of us, we had a lot of privileges during the holidays. While we helped with the harvesting we were allowed to take our dinners with us - sandwiches and cordial - and we were allowed to have as much cordial as we liked. Then we'd bog into our watermelon. One of the nuns would tell us we could go for a swim in the dam, which was nearby, and we'd scramble like chooks off to the water.

By the time the nun reached us we'd be looking like drenched ducks in our dresses, as we never had bathers in those days. The nun used to sit on the bank of the dam, while the cattle were all around us, doing their business in the water. We'd be calling out to sister to look at us diving and splashing.

When she thought we'd had enough swimming she called out to us but we used to make out we never heard her, and keep disappearing by ducking our heads under the brown surface. When we'd come up for fresh air, we'd look at sister and we could see from her face if we'd gone too far.

So we'd race one another back to our work until in the evening we'd go with all the nuns for a walk about two miles down the road. One of the nuns would chuck lollies out to us from her apron pockets and we all scrambled over the ground to get our fair share. Then every Sunday we would be off to the nearest town for a picnic and the brothers or nuns used to buy us each an ice cream, which we did look forward to. We used to lick it slow, so as to make it last longer, although it would melt on us and make us lick faster than we wanted to.

The Christmas party brought us all together like one happy family. This was the only time I felt close to everyone, because all year around we did things separately.

The brothers would go out and cut down a big pine tree, then bring it back and plant it in a large bin of sand. Us girls used to help the nuns decorate the tree and dining room. Come night time the whole dining room would be lit up with candles and coloured lights. All the priests and brothers and nuns used to be there. Then one of the nuns would start to play the organ to the tune of Silent Night. We joined in with them, though they sang in German. We learnt a lot of the German language in the mission!

When the carols were finished we would make a dash to the table to find our presents. The nuns were like real mums. I reckon the look on our little faces when we opened up our presents and cuddled our peg dolls, brought a tear to their eyes. I suppose they were missing their families in Germany too.

After all the festivities were over, everything got back to normal. And so the years went by until this particular spring morning when I awoke feeling very emotional. For the first time in my life I was leaving my home, at the age of sixteen years. I didn't know what to expect, I was frightened, I didn't want to go - but I had no choice.

There was no time for tears or goodbyes. The nuns had all my clothes packed. Everything was brand new. “Oh God,” I thought, “I am going to miss these dear nuns.”

I said goodbye to all my mates in a very emotional state. Then the white people arrived to take me away. They were In a smart car and both were well dressed, old looking, about fifty I suppose. The man was short and round, with a plump face and beady eyes. His wife was short too but slim, with a lined face and a turned up nose. She had a dainty look.

The Father in charge introduced me to them, and told me I had to work hard for these nice people. And not to forget to say my prayers, as he would be ringing up from time to time to find out how I was progressing in my work. Then he gave me a pat on the back and the lady opened the back door of the car. I got in and sat down nervously.

As the car sped on my journey into the unknown, I sat back with a feeling of anguish and grief. The journey was quiet for most of the way, the man and woman just making conversation between themselves, and I dozed off to sleep.

DARK SERVANT

When I awoke we were driving through this pretty town. The lady turned to me and told me we were nearing our destination. Just a couple of miles beyond the town and we would be there, at their farm.

The countryside was very picturesque. There were big hills all around, which reminded me of my Wandering home. We drove on for another mile and the man slowed down. He veered off to the right. I looked up as he stopped the car to get out and open the gate. It was getting on dusk and I saw lights on the hill. It looked real pretty from down here.

We bounced over this bridge with a little brook running under it. The ducks seemed so content just paddling with the flow of the water.

We drove up to the house and in the driveway he stopped the car. The house looked enormous! The woman turned to me and told me to get out. She climbed out herself and told me to follow her inside, which I did.

We went into the kitchen and sat down. She said she'd put the kettle on and make a cup of tea and that she shouldn't be long, as she was going to her room to freshen up after the long journey.

I sat there feeling rather uneasy and on edge, got up and thought I'd take a peep Into the next room. What I saw took my breath away!

The floor was covered in a beautiful dark, rich red carpet. The furniture was all antique and shone magnificently. The silverware, placed effectively around the room, glittered vivaciously. Even the brick work around the open fire place was polished up to a deep dark red colour, and the chandelier hanging from the ceiling sparkled like a jewel.

In one way I was glad I had come to this nice place. I couldn't wait to write back to the mission to tell my mates. Then I heard footsteps coming so I quickly went to sit on my chair - innocently!

They came in and the man sat down, while she pottered around getting the tea things ready. I sat very quietly there, listening to their conversation, which they were having between themselves.

When everything was ready she sat down, turned to me and told me their names were Mr and Mrs Bigelow.

As she poured herself and Mr Bigelow tea in beautiful cups and saucers, I wondered if I was going to get a cup. I could only see two cups and saucers on the table, when she went to a cupboard In the far left of the kitchen, and I thought, “Oh, that's good, she's going to get me a cup and saucer.” To my amazement she came back to the table with an old tin mug, poured tea in it, and placed it down in front of me.

She must have seen the bewilderment on my face as I looked at her. I wasn't the type of person to speak out, being brought up in a strict environment. We were taught never to speak out to people unless we were spoken to first, no matter what the circumstances.

I politely asked her if I could have a cup and saucer to drink from, as I wasn't used to drinking out of tin mugs and never had done so in the mission.

The answer I received back was in a very irate and furious tone of voice. She stated to me that I was there as her dark servant, that I was to obey her orders, and do what she told me to do! I took the tin mug and drank my tea with a very confused mind.

Now that we had our cup of tea, Mr Bigelow said he was retiring to the lounge. Mrs Bigelow said she'd take me to my room - which I couldn't wait to see, as I imagined it to be like the beautiful dining room I'd seen.

So we went out the back door of the kitchen, away from that nice room, up some stairs and past an old shower room. It looked like a place where she'd keep her dogs. I had caught a glimpse of them as I came in.

We passed a big rack of shoes, went up another set of steps, then she opened a door and switched on the lights. I wondered where my nice room was: we were in a garage!

She opened a door on her left, reached up and got an old burner down from a hook - and lit it.

Through the dim light of the lantern I saw my case standing next to an old wooden bed. I cried out, and asked her what my case was doing in this horrible dirty room? Could she have possibly made a mistake?

I suppose I shouldn't have asked, as I only burdened myself more by having to be told sharply, I was her dark servant! This room was to be my bedroom while I was here working for her.

She continued on with a fierce tirade of orders, saying she wanted me to be up bright and early. If I looked in the cupboard next to the bed I would find an old alarm clock. I was to set it to five o'clock. Just outside my door in the garage, I would find a big straw broom. With that broom I was to sweep her driveway which, as I later found, went for about a mile around her house and finished down near some gates leading to the orchard. After that I was to go and wait for her in the kitchen to get my orders for the rest of the day.

With a haughty look about herself she strutted out the door, leaving me with feelings of animosity and humiliation. I fumbled through my case to find my nightdress and slowly put it on, blew the flame out and got that old familiar feeling called homesickness. I cried myself to sleep.

ORANGE JUICE IN THE MORNING

When I awoke, it was to the shrill sound of the alarm clock. I reached over and turned it off, then lay back on my pillow to familiarize with my new surroundings. When I recalled where I was my heart sank. I jolted out of bed and thought I'd make a good impression on my first day, though I had no heart for it at all.

I lit the old burner up to see what I was doing. I got my working clothes out of my case, a clean set of underwear, a dress which came down to the ankles, a full length apron, shoes, ankle socks and a scarf so the wind wouldn't blow my hair around while I was sweeping the driveway.

It was still pretty dark when I opened up my bedroom door. The wind was blowing and howling, and the light from the lamp was reflecting on every obstacle, making the whole surroundings pretty scary.

I hesitated, stepped back inside the room, and thought to myself, “I'll have a wash later on when I finish sweeping, as it will be lighter and I can see a bit better.”

So I got dressed and tried hard not to be frightened. When I was ready, I picked up the old burner, set all my fears aside, got the old straw broom and started sweeping.