Main Beach
Without Prejudice
We lived in Mountbatten Avenue Main Beach, Gold Coast. the house was fabulous, cool airy, with mangoes and pawpaws in the back garden, flat roofed.
A courtyard in the middle, out back passion fruit on vines. We loved it there, David, George, and I walking across the rickety old wooden bridge every day to School.
The school was Southport State and was one of the best we ever went to. Kids could come with no shoes on, bare chested as well, as long as they came. That was the main thing. There was a "Special School', the kids contained behind a mesh fence and the rest was just dirt and trees.
We lined up for Assembly in the sun, sweating furiously and one day I fainted. Everything strangely turning white and then just a buzzing in my ears and then I was waking up in the class room, lying on one of the long wooden benches.
I felt weird for a while but snapped out of it, and looked around me, anxious faces staring down at me. I was soon back sitting at the top position in the class, sitting next to the dirtiest boy I had ever seen.
His ears were mainly what I saw, full of yellow wax, and so dirty you could have grown potatoes in them, his hands always covered from the blue ink in the ink wells. He would screw up bits of blotter and soak them in there. Then flick them at others. He never wore shoes and his bare feet were hard callused and black.
But he was supremely intelligent and it was hard to keep beating him at exams. I would win on my essays and he was better at Maths. His name was Steven Cooper and one of the brainiest kids I was ever to meet. I caught him trying to peek at my English Comprehension, one day and covered my work after that.
Every child in Queensland was provided with free stationery, books and a "Port", a suitcase for all your "stuff". We loved picking out all our protractors and Compasses, pencil cases and Derwent pencils in a tin, Lakeland. Rulers wooden, which chipped and split easily, erasers, exercise books, music books.
Text books were usually old and contained at the school, handed out each lesson.
And Dad helped me cover my books, with Woman's weekly pictures glued on and then covered in cellophane. My Dad made then so well and in his Copper Plate handwriting would mark name, and class on the front. I loved my hand covered books.
And every night we crossed back over the old wooden bridge, ending where the road to Sea World is now. George and I staring down at the man of wars and stingrays silently floating past, magnificent in their size.
George and I went fishing there one hot Saturday morning, and he was trying to bait his hook. A cyclist whooshed by catching George's line and there was harsh scream.
The hook going straight through, George's finger and coming out the other side.
I ran home and Mum called an Ambulance and George was rushed off, having to have the barb cut off and the rest of the hook sliding out. He was out of action for a while, tetanus shots in his bum for a week and bandages and a sling.
We went to the foothills as well, puckered up by Spinifex, and rode and ran and swam, where the Sheraton Mirage is now. We built bonfires at night, looking out to the blackened surf, hearing it's gentle whoosh and planned our lives from that point on.
Staring out at the winking lights of freighters slipping by. We toasted twisties on sticks, ( bits of damper) and had a new device called a Jaffle, round and blackened by many fires.
George never again threw petrol on a fire after Canowindra where he kept throwing it on the fire out back and he was obsessed with it.
Until one day it flashed back and burnt his hand and his hair and he didn't have eyebrows or eyelashes for months. Every time he approached I was sure of a faint burnt smell.
We could swim in the people's pool opposite for 5 pence, so we did, endlessly, drying out on the boiling concrete enjoying the bubbles of heat as we lay face down. Our speedos drying in minutes.
George began seeing how far he could get underwater with out coming up for air. he made an obsession of that, too. Writing in his diary, how long he could hold it in and Jackie and I found it one day and wet ourselves reading it.
George as far as I was concerned was a weirdo that I just had to put up with, him being my brother and all.
He would wait until Mum was out of the way and punch me or hit me and I would hit him straight back, so he'd thump me harder. He was big and could really fight, hurting, so I made sure I didn't get in his way too much.
But he could be good too, running with me through darkened streets to get to squad on Thursday nights. Squad was necessary if we wanted to compete in races at school.
And suddenly I started to develop, which no one seemed to notice except me.
Until I begged my Mother to buy me a new swimsuit, the faded red speedos were not doing their job any more
And I tried on so many, finally deciding on a pair that had a litle under wire and pointy cups, tiny, mindst you, but still it was my armour against pring eyes.
And then everyone noticed, the new look and I was teased unmercifully, but I didn't care. My girls were safe and contained in a "house", so all was well.
Love Janette
Love Janette
We lived in Mountbatten Avenue Main Beach, Gold Coast. the house was fabulous, cool airy, with mangoes and pawpaws in the back garden, flat roofed.
A courtyard in the middle, out back passion fruit on vines. We loved it there, David, George, and I walking across the rickety old wooden bridge every day to School.
The school was Southport State and was one of the best we ever went to. Kids could come with no shoes on, bare chested as well, as long as they came. That was the main thing. There was a "Special School', the kids contained behind a mesh fence and the rest was just dirt and trees.
We lined up for Assembly in the sun, sweating furiously and one day I fainted. Everything strangely turning white and then just a buzzing in my ears and then I was waking up in the class room, lying on one of the long wooden benches.
I felt weird for a while but snapped out of it, and looked around me, anxious faces staring down at me. I was soon back sitting at the top position in the class, sitting next to the dirtiest boy I had ever seen.
His ears were mainly what I saw, full of yellow wax, and so dirty you could have grown potatoes in them, his hands always covered from the blue ink in the ink wells. He would screw up bits of blotter and soak them in there. Then flick them at others. He never wore shoes and his bare feet were hard callused and black.
But he was supremely intelligent and it was hard to keep beating him at exams. I would win on my essays and he was better at Maths. His name was Steven Cooper and one of the brainiest kids I was ever to meet. I caught him trying to peek at my English Comprehension, one day and covered my work after that.
Every child in Queensland was provided with free stationery, books and a "Port", a suitcase for all your "stuff". We loved picking out all our protractors and Compasses, pencil cases and Derwent pencils in a tin, Lakeland. Rulers wooden, which chipped and split easily, erasers, exercise books, music books.
Text books were usually old and contained at the school, handed out each lesson.
And Dad helped me cover my books, with Woman's weekly pictures glued on and then covered in cellophane. My Dad made then so well and in his Copper Plate handwriting would mark name, and class on the front. I loved my hand covered books.
And every night we crossed back over the old wooden bridge, ending where the road to Sea World is now. George and I staring down at the man of wars and stingrays silently floating past, magnificent in their size.
George and I went fishing there one hot Saturday morning, and he was trying to bait his hook. A cyclist whooshed by catching George's line and there was harsh scream.
The hook going straight through, George's finger and coming out the other side.
I ran home and Mum called an Ambulance and George was rushed off, having to have the barb cut off and the rest of the hook sliding out. He was out of action for a while, tetanus shots in his bum for a week and bandages and a sling.
We went to the foothills as well, puckered up by Spinifex, and rode and ran and swam, where the Sheraton Mirage is now. We built bonfires at night, looking out to the blackened surf, hearing it's gentle whoosh and planned our lives from that point on.
Staring out at the winking lights of freighters slipping by. We toasted twisties on sticks, ( bits of damper) and had a new device called a Jaffle, round and blackened by many fires.
George never again threw petrol on a fire after Canowindra where he kept throwing it on the fire out back and he was obsessed with it.
Until one day it flashed back and burnt his hand and his hair and he didn't have eyebrows or eyelashes for months. Every time he approached I was sure of a faint burnt smell.
We could swim in the people's pool opposite for 5 pence, so we did, endlessly, drying out on the boiling concrete enjoying the bubbles of heat as we lay face down. Our speedos drying in minutes.
George began seeing how far he could get underwater with out coming up for air. he made an obsession of that, too. Writing in his diary, how long he could hold it in and Jackie and I found it one day and wet ourselves reading it.
George as far as I was concerned was a weirdo that I just had to put up with, him being my brother and all.
He would wait until Mum was out of the way and punch me or hit me and I would hit him straight back, so he'd thump me harder. He was big and could really fight, hurting, so I made sure I didn't get in his way too much.
But he could be good too, running with me through darkened streets to get to squad on Thursday nights. Squad was necessary if we wanted to compete in races at school.
And suddenly I started to develop, which no one seemed to notice except me.
Until I begged my Mother to buy me a new swimsuit, the faded red speedos were not doing their job any more
And I tried on so many, finally deciding on a pair that had a litle under wire and pointy cups, tiny, mindst you, but still it was my armour against pring eyes.
And then everyone noticed, the new look and I was teased unmercifully, but I didn't care. My girls were safe and contained in a "house", so all was well.
Love Janette
Love Janette
