Calypso Summer (22 page)

As the police vehicle passed by the houses down my street I sat there cursing Run.

19

We were pushed into an office as soon as we arrived at the Henley Beach Police Station. Constable Williams prepared an ink-pad and pulled out a folder from his desk drawer.

‘I want to call my Dad,' Clare insisted.

‘Too bad,' said Constable Wilmot.

‘I-want-to-call-my-dad! We're allowed one call. I want Dad here when you take our statements.'

‘This isn't television. I'll tell you what you can and can't have.'

‘How old are you?' Constable Williams asked Clare.

‘Twenty-one.'

‘You're an adult, no need for a parent to be present.'

‘What about a lawyer?' I asked.

‘Does Bob Marley here have a lawyer does he?' Constable Wilmot sneered.

I wanted to take a shot at him.

‘I want my dad … now!' Clare screamed.

The two officers looked at each other and Constable Williams said to Constable Wilmot, ‘Get him down here, he might be involved too.'

‘My dad's a professional. He works in a health clinic.'

‘Yeah, right, and your boyfriend Bob here is in the health food business,' said Constable Williams. The two police officers laughed.

‘Fucking arseholes,' Clare said under her breath.

‘Take it easy, don't let them get to you,' I told her.

Constable Williams grabbed Clare's hand and pushed her thumb down onto the inkpad and then onto paper. I gritted my teeth.

When our fingerprints were taken, Constable Williams started jotting down our details. ‘Nationality?' he asked but didn't even wait for me to answer. ‘Abo … little wannabe Bob Marley prick,' he said before writing something down on his note pad. Then he looked up at Clare. ‘Nationality?'

‘Aboriginal,' Clare said proudly.

‘Yeah, right and I'm Michael Jordan. You're too pretty to be a nigger, love,' he said.

There was a police baton resting on the edge of a desk within reach of where I was sitting. I knew I could grab it and start lashing out at the officers. Williams hooked the tip of his pen under the strap of Clare's bikini top. She flinched as the tip of the pen scraped her skin. I couldn't hack it anymore. ‘Fuck you,' I said, jumping to my feet. Constable Wilmot grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. Then he pushed my head into the table, holding his weight down on me.

‘You going to be calm? Are you calm? Are you calm,' he repeated.

‘I'm cool, I'm cool,' I said letting my body go limp.

Constable Wilmot released the pressure, pulled me upright and pushed me back into the seat. I caught my breath as I looked at Clare. ‘Just tell them what they need … don't worry about what they say, and don't worry about a thing, it's all going to be alright,' I told her. But really, I didn't have a bloody clue what was going to happen.

°°°

Frankie came into the interview room and I could see the cops kind of freak a bit when they saw how black he is. He came straight from his New Year's party and was wearing some flash leather thongs, shorts and short-sleeved shirt. ‘Mr Stewart,' said Williams, standing from his chair and holding out his hand for Frankie to shake.

Frankie was hell pissed off. ‘What in the bloody hell were you thinking Calypso, getting Clare into this mess?' he asked me. ‘You alright love?' he asked Clare.

Clare wiped her cheeks. ‘I'm okay,' she said. ‘It's not Calypso's fault.'

‘So why you got these kids here?' Frankie asked.

‘We found a very large quantity of cannabis in Mr Summers' apartment,' Constable Williams said, tapping a pen on his notebook.

‘Is this true?' Frankie asked me.

‘Yeah, but it's not mine,' I told him.

‘So whose is it?' he asked.

‘I'll tell you but I'm not telling them … treating us like dogs.'

Frankie sat down between me and Clare and looked at the two constables. ‘I know Calypso looks like your man but he's a good kid. I been watching him. See, he's just started going out with my daughter here. I know his family. He's trying to do the right thing. You need to find out who else comes in and out of his place.'

Constable Williams tapped his pen against his chin as Wilmot simply stared down at the note pad in front of him. ‘Is it someone else's cannabis, Mr Summers?' Constable Williams asked.

That's what I'd been trying to tell them but I just sat there as if no question had been asked of me.

‘Calypso,' said Frankie, ‘it's easiest if you just tell them, they'll find out anyway and you're just holding me up from getting Clare out of here and getting back to our party.' Frankie was trying to sound calm but he was furious.

I looked at Clare's face that was all red from crying and thought about how the cops treated us like pieces of shit. ‘I'm sorry I've got Clare into this mess, Frankie, but there's no way I'm telling them anything.'

‘Well, we'll just have to put you in a cell until we find who the cannabis belongs to,' Constable Williams said.

‘Is this what you want?' Frankie asked.

I nodded my head.

‘You're free to take your daughter home Mr Stewart but we'll have to keep Mr Summers in custody while we work through this. Constable Williams opened the door.

‘Do you want me to call a lawyer, Calypso?' Frankie asked. ‘I can call someone from Aboriginal Legal Rights.'

‘Yeah, but not for me,' was all I said.

Frankie put his arm around Clare and said, ‘Hang in there.'

I felt like being sick as Frankie and Clare left the station. The cops took the laces from my shoes, my necklace, keys and my wallet and made me sign a form.

°°°

‘How long are you going to keep me here?' I asked Constable Wilmot as he pushed me into the cell.

‘As long as I want or until we find another suspect.' The officer slammed the door.

I'd never thought I'd end up in a cell. Not even when I was selling ganja. I thought I'd just get a fine or something if I got caught. I sat on this prickly grey corrections blanket on the edge of this tiny bed as the constable locked the door and walked away. I kicked the stainless steel toilet in the back of the cell, only inches from the bed. I sat there knowing I'd be waiting until Run was detained and questioned before I was released. I thought it could take days.

I couldn't stop thinking about what the cops had done to Clare and how I couldn't do anything about it. And I knew Gary's shop would be closing down too. There was no way Clare would want to be with me when I didn't have a job, I thought. I mean, look at what I'd put her through. I imagined her crying in her room as Frankie told everyone at his party that I'd been locked up. I couldn't breathe. I started crying. And it wasn't just like a few tears, I was bawlin' with my head in my hands. I hadn't cried since I was a little fella.

It was ages until Constable Wilmot finally grabbed me from the cell. I was nearly asleep when I heard the key turn in the lock. ‘Grab your gear from the office, Mr Summers, you're free to go.'

I looked at the Constable all blurry eyed and shit, not knowing if he was bullshitting or what. ‘Come on,' he said. Then he led me down this white corridor towards this huge door with bolts and shit on it. Just before we reached it, the door swung open and Run and Robbie came through with their hands cuffed.

‘You're a fucking snitch,' Robbie yelled. The officer escorting him told him to shut his mouth and pushed him toward the cell I'd just come out of. Run spat at me and it sprayed across my neck
and chin and onto my new shirt. If the police officers weren't there I would've lifted both of the little fuckers.

It was almost five o'clock in the morning when I signed for my things at the police station counter. I was buggered and dragged my sorry arse back to my flat. New Year's parties were still raging everywhere. They were only making me more pissed off.

20

I woke up the next morning with someone knocking at my door. Everything rushed back to me … Gary in the taxi, being locked up, the police treating us like dogs and Run spitting at me. I pressed my pillow down over my face, thinking it was the police wanting me to put shit on Run. If it was Mum or Evelyn I wasn't up for them putting Run's shit on me.

I didn't expect to see Uncle Ray at the door. I'd forgotten about him coming to town. He was wearing a pair of slacks with a belt and a collared shirt that was tucked in and unbuttoned halfway down his guts. His boots were all polished and his hair was slicked back.

‘Had a rough night, neph?' he said, pushing past me into the flat. ‘Where's your coffee?' he asked as he walked into the kitchen. I handed Uncle Ray the coffee and he turned on the kettle and grabbed a mug from the sink.

‘Had to leave Port Germein at the crack of dawn to get here, you little shit. Old fella needs a good sleep you know, neph, and what, you still sleeping there at ten o'clock?'

‘I was arrested last night, Uncle. Didn't get out of the lockup until real early this morning.'

‘True?' Uncle Ray said, pouring hot water into the mug. ‘You're not the only fella that's been locked up before, Calypso. Want a coffee, neph?'

‘Might as well, I feel like shit.'

‘What they lock you up for?'

‘They found ganja here. They thought it was mine.'

‘Whose was it then?'

‘It belongs to my cousin Run.'

‘Yeah, I know who Run is … Well, when he's not busy, you tell him to come and see me.' I almost laughed because it sounded like Uncle Ray wanted to score from Run but then I thought about Gary and just hung my head. ‘What's wrong,' Uncle Ray asked, handing me a cup of coffee.

‘My boss, I saw him last night. Things aren't going that well with the business. My boss, he's got a gambling habit.'

‘How bad is it?'

‘He goes to the pub every day to put on a bet. He reckons he's about six weeks overdue with the rent.'

‘What about this other bloke we're supposed to be meeting?'

‘Don't know much about him, Gary just said that he works with Aboriginal communities putting together products from their things and selling it for them.'

‘Well let's just meet with them then and see how we go.'

‘I'm not up for it Uncle Ray … I mean I was arrested with my woman last night and it looks like I'll probably lose my job. Fuck knows how I'm going to pay for this place,' I said looking around my flat.

Uncle Ray drank his coffee, raised an eyebrow and just sat there looking at me for a long time. Then he said, ‘Locked up, losing your job. Let me tell you a story about losing your job and being locked up.'

I was sitting on my lounge, exactly where I'd been getting it on with Clare before the cops came. Uncle Ray was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. ‘Do you know that little town Melrose?'

‘Nah.'

‘Well it's just on the other side of the hills there … in our country. Anyway, it was one of the first places in South Australia outside of Adelaide to have coppers.'

I sipped my coffee and looked at the clock. It was near half past ten.

‘Also had the first brewery there too in Melrose. Those brewers tapped into our sacred waters to brew their beer. That place is real sacred country you know. The police set up a rations depot, making Nukunu have to take their charity because … well, just about all the land was taken for their bloody sheep and Nukunu had no bush tucker to eat, all the bush was being cleared, see?'

The sugary hot coffee started to hit the spot and I listened really carefully to Uncle Ray's yarn.

‘Having coppers in town and a brewery, well they had to build a courthouse and a lockup didn't they? Who you reckon built those lockups?'

‘You?' I said.

‘Come on, I'm not that bloody old, neph … it was the century before last. It was Nukunu fellas though, our old people. See they were made to build those lockups. They were fighting for their lives, just trying to survive. Farmers were shooting at our people whenever we tried to get a feed on our own yarta, the government didn't want us there … you know?'

I nodded, understanding where Uncle Ray was coming from.

‘But see, it wasn't only the authorities and pastoralists poisoning our old people … it was the brewery and all that grog. Our mob seen all the whitefellas drinking and thought it was okay for them to drink too, after all, they were making that drink from our sacred waterhole, see. And long story short, the fellas started
getting thrown in the lockups they'd built with their own murras. And a blackfella would die in those prisons back then. It would've been like taking a fish out of water.'

‘Unbelievable,' I said.

‘No, that's a true story, neph. So don't go complaining about losing your job and getting chucked in prison for a little while.'

‘Just makes me wild, Uncle Ray, knowing how they treated us, how I was treated like a dog last night.'

‘Well use it,' said Uncle Ray.

‘What you mean use it? Use what?'

‘The fire in your gut, neph. Don't let it burn you up, but use it to get whatever you need … for yourself, your family ... and the mob.'

‘Like what?'

‘Well, for a start … today we got to go see if this fella wants to buy our things. Come on, you better clean yourself up, neph.' Uncle Ray looked at his watch. ‘Go on, get cracking. That sign down there says Resident Parking Only, I don't want no parking ticket.'

21

I stepped out of my bedroom wearing the clothes I'd bought for all of my job interviews: the black slacks, long-sleeved shirt and polished black shoes. I had a shave and pulled my dreadlocks back with red, yellow and black bands.

‘I thought we were going to see your boss today, not the bloody Queen, Calypso. You look proper deadly, neph,' Uncle Ray said, jingling his car keys.