Читать книгу Cops, Crocs & Leopard-Skin Jocks - Bob Magor - Страница 16

We’d just finished eating one of Anne’s substantial dinners and we all leaned back on our chairs. Roy stoked the fire up to heat the shower water. When it was hot the cut-off keg full of water would be transferred to the concrete bathroom where a bilge pump pumped the water through a shower head.

‘I don’t care how primitive I live, I’ve always insisted that we go to bed clean,’ Roy said, as he tested the water.

‘I’m not having a shower, Daddy,’ announced Kimberley.

‘You bloody well are, you little bitch,’ Roy replied affectionately.

‘None of us get into that caravan without a shower,’ Roy stated with pride.

‘Another good mate from my poaching days was old Bradley. He owned Bradley’s Secondhand Shop in Darwin. He was an old bloke in his mid-seventies who loved going bush and would drop everything whenever he got the opportunity to join us. We gave him a terrible time but he took it all so he could keep coming. We should have been ashamed of ourselves.

‘I always made it a point of shoplifting from his shop because he was always taking me down if I didn’t watch him. I knew he stole from me and he knew I stole from him. I think over the years we came out about even. It was a game we played together.

‘Johnny Bell and I had big nets, but Bradley had smaller mesh nets so he caught smaller fish. He was an old con-artist so we watched him like a hawk. We came back to Darwin one night when it was cold by Darwin standards. Because of the temperature I just lay my gutted fish out on the grass to keep them cool until dawn. When I got up next morning, I went to get my fish and I could see these big shadowy outlines on the dewy grass where my fish had been. In their place were fish about half the size. He was a hungry old shit. I grabbed my fish back and abused him but all he did was laugh. He never expected to get away with it but he sure got the reaction he wanted. I guess he owed us a bit.

‘I remember one time when we were camping out on Alligator Billabong. We were pretty hungry and all we had to eat were spuds. I was cooking them on the fire. We only had three between us so I ate mine, and Bradley’s, and Colin Powell ate his. Old Bradley’s eyesight was pretty bad so I stuck a pandanus nut in the fire. It was the right size for a spud and he couldn’t see well enough to tell the difference. You can use pandanus nuts for heat beads because they hold their heat well and get red hot. The old bloke carefully turned it over and over in the coals, getting hungrier all the time. After about half an hour he rolled it out of the fire. Poor old Bradley burnt holes in everything he tried to pick it up with until he realised what it was.

‘ “You pair of bastards!” he yelled with a disappointed glare when he realised he was about to go without tea. He always seemed to come off second best.

‘We were coming back from Shady Camp once and my daughter Betty was still in nappies at the time. She was standing on the back seat rubbing a nappy filled with ice on my head to cool me down. Old Bradley said, “Oh, I’d love that to happen to me.” I looked around and saw a dirty nappy still on the back seat.

As I was driving along I reached around and grabbed it and started rubbing it on top of his bald head. “Oh, that’s lovely,” he moaned with delight.

“What are mates for,” I told him and kept rubbing. All at once the nappy began to leak a bit and run down past his ears.

‘ “You dirty bastard!” he yelled, looking completely disgusted.

‘But then we just abused him for being on the nose. We made him get out at a creek and wash himself because we couldn’t stand the smell. For some strange reason he still liked going bush with us!

‘Out beside the Corroboree Camp road there was a water tank. It was the height that we could stand on the tray of the Toyota and jump in and have a good wash after fishing all night. The inside water level was about eighteen inches below the rim and when we young blokes finished our swim we’d just spring back over the edge onto the tray of the Toyota again. The first time we jumped in old Bradley was with us and he joined in. He got in okay, but when it came time to get out his strength failed him. He splashed around and pleaded with us to haul him out.

‘ “No Bradley,” I said. “It’s ten dollars or you stay there.”

‘He was bobbing up and down while he swore and swallowed water. He persisted for ten minutes before he scrambled out with bruises all over him and skin off the inside of his legs. I think he would have sooner drowned than pay us money.

‘He had the occasional win though. One time I had an order for some beef in town so Bluey Farrell and I found this beast that seemed homeless and slaughtered it where it stood. Bradley came with us just to get in the way. He loved jewellery and this day he was wearing a lovely man’s diamond ring that he’d picked up somewhere. It was worth a lot of money and he was very proud of it.

‘We cut up the slaughtered beast on its skin and then loaded into the back of the Toyota. We were heading back into town when Bradley said, “My ring. It’s gone.

It must have slipped off when I was helping gut the bullock.”

‘ “Well, we’re not going back now,” I said. “It’s twenty miles back.”

‘ “It’s a valuable ring,” moaned Bradley. “I’ll give $150 reward if you find it for me.”

‘Well, 150 bucks was a lot of money, so for the next month, whenever Bluey and I went past the spot on our poaching trips we’d stop. We’d carefully sift through the heap of decaying guts and crap to find Bradley’s ring and get the reward. The treasure-seeking became more repulsive as the weeks went on until we finally declared that it wasn’t worth the effort.

‘About eight months later, Bradley was in the Dolphin Pub one night taking photographs. Photography was another enterprise that he dabbled in to make a few bob. As he twisted the camera around to get a better angle I spotted this big diamond ring on his finger.

‘ “Is that the ring you lost, you old bastard,” I roared. He gave a big grin of satisfaction. He’d slipped the ring off his finger and into his pocket when we had started messing around with the fatty beef. He’d had a great laugh every time we came back from out bush and told him how we’d scraped through the decomposing mess. He reckoned he owed us one. He was right.

‘Bradley loved his grog and always took a reasonable supply when he came away with us. I never drank much but I didn’t mind if others did, so long as they didn’t annoy me. Bradley had a skin-full one night and he put on a fair performance until he finally passed out and went to sleep. He then put on a much bigger performance with his snoring. I couldn’t get to sleep all night for his noise so next morning I was a bit cranky. I had revenge next night when he was still feeling a bit crook. He asked me for a Serepax to get to sleep. I often used them to make me switch off at night and Bradley knew that I had some.

‘ “No worries, mate,” I said. Bradley wasn’t to know that the tablets I gave him were for piddling. The poor old bloke wore a path out into the bushes all night. I only grinned next morning when he mentioned that he was going to see a doctor because there was something wrong with his bladder.

‘Bradley was really a great old bloke and he’s not forgotten. He had a lovely bone-handled knife with intricate carvings on the handle. I took a liking to it and was always trying to kid him into giving it to me, but he wouldn’t be in on it.

‘ “You can have it for thirty dollars,” he’d say. “It’s worth ten times that amount so that’s a cheap deal.” I’d always answer, “But you’re gonna die soon Bradley. If you give it to me, it’ll be something to remember you by. Every time I use it I’ll say, “That was Bradley’s knife. What a great bloke he was for giving it to me.”

‘ “Thirty dollars,” he’d say dryly.

‘Just before he died he did give it to me, and true to my word, every time I peel an apple with it I say, “This was Bradley’s knife.” Lenice is sick of hearing it.’

As we stood up to head for bed Roy rushed off to his caravan and came back with something behind his back.

‘This was Bradley’s knife,’ he grinned, showing his prize.

‘Shut up, Roy,’ Lenice yawned.