Sweet One by Peter Docker

Author:Peter Docker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction/General
ISBN: 9781922089762
Publisher: Fremantle Press
Published: 2009-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Wee Tits and Mata Hari

Izzy goes to roll over, but the swag is so tight that she can’t. She feels like a child still in the womb who knows there is a life outside. She opens her eyes. She had one of those sleeps where she can’t remember dropping off, and knows her body didn’t move a skerrick during the night. Slept like the dead. There is something else ... A dream? Izzy sits up.

Queenie is over near the back of Uncle Wadi’s shed dwelling, sitting over a fire in a cut-off forty-four gallon drum. She whispers to herself in desert language, and wafts smoke from the leaves on the fire over her skin like a morning wash. Izzy watches Queenie. Queenie seems at once like an ancient woman and a small girl/child. It’s as though she exists in a different plane where the passage of time is subject to laws other than those of this world. Queenie feels her eyes on her and looks up. Izzy smiles without thinking, and Queenie smiles back.

Good sleep?

Yeah, says Izzy.

Any dream?

Izzy nods and grins. Her eyes tell Queenie that she can’t quite get it back.

You bin fightin in your dream, comments Queenie quietly.

Izzy has some vague recollection of being in a firefight in Vietnam, and then killing a blonde woman with a plastic fork.

But fighting who? That’s the question, says Izzy.

‘To be, or not to be,’ responds Queenie.

You got a classical education?

Missionaries gotta be good for something.

Apart from sexual positions.

Overrated! laughs Queenie.

Izzy wriggles her way out of her swag, stands, and stretches.

Haven’t slept on the ground for a while, Izzy says.

Good for the soul.

It’s my back I’m worried about.

Izzy wanders over to the fire.

What time is it?

We all slept in. Cuppatea?

Please.

Queenie starts to pour tea into a tin mug from the billy.

They both hear the phone start to ring. Uncle Wadi appears in the doorway with a question signal on his hand. Queenie nods to Izzy.

Macca wouldn’t have slept in, says Izzy.

He probably never went to bed, says Queenie.

Izzy goes in to take the call. Queenie hands a cuppatea to Uncle Wadi, who sits on a milk crate and rolls a smoke.

Moments later, Izzy is back.

What now? asks Queenie.

We’re on, says Izzy.

Queenie jumps up. The little girl has returned. She skips over to the Landie, retrieves a couple of shopping bags, and skips back to Izzy.

How’d you go?

Good enough, says Queenie.

She jumps out, and throws the bottle of brunette rinse to Izzy, who catches it with one hand. Izzy regards the bottle.

You coming over to the dark side, girl, says Queenie.

What else you got?

Queenie looks down at the offending plastic shopping bag in her hand.

Nothin.

Come on, what you got?

Nothin.

And Queenie tries to hide the bag. Izzy goes after her and they quickly get into a mad wrestle for the bag, finally falling on the ground, with Izzy triumphantly gaining control of the bag. She fishes inside with her hand.

What are these?

She emerges with two ‘chicken fillet’ bra inserts.

Nothin.

Are you saying I’ve got wee tits?

Wee?

Small.

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