No regrets

NO REGRETS”

The old cabin creaked and groaned Ralph thought to himself I bet it feels exactly like I do. Ralph wasn’t old he just had lived a hard life compared to the average Jo blow. Reaching out his hand he picked up his watch realising he wouldn’t be able to read it in the dark as it’s hands didn’t glow anymore. Dam he thought I’m going senile, slowly rising from the bed to a sitting position Ralph searched for the switch of his bed side lamp flicking it on. The light was bright and made his sight bleary, glancing at his watch he could just make out that the big hand was on the eight and the little hand on the two. Twenty to three in the morning what the… he thought, feeling agitated and restless he knew that there would be no more sleep tonight. 

His mind was a whirl of thoughts he had shorn 145 sheep yesterday and he knew there was at least that number to shear again today. What the heck was on his mind. He shook his head like a baby shakes a rattle hoping that would unblock his wayward thoughts. Sitting back down on his rickety bed Ralph tried to think. Lately this has become a nightly ritual waking up in the middle of the night for no good reason. Life is funny like that, tries to make you think all is good but you know it’s not, I think I’ve got a case of the guilts. “Guilts”I don’t think so he thought, he had no regrets nothing that would keep him up at night or so he thought. He just couldn’t figure out what was annoying his mind so much that it kept him from sleeping. His memory started to wander back to his childhood.

There were eight of us all together in the family Da, Ma, Rodney, Richard, Robert, Ralph, Ella and Fran. Even though there were only two bedrooms in the house . The boys sprawled out in the living room and the two girls shared the other room and of cause Ma had her own room which she shared with Da when he came home. As there were no beds to sleep in we all slept on the floor covered up with 2 blankets each. If it was really cold we would layer up our clothes and wear them to bed. Since we were already dressed we didn’t waste time having to get dressed in the morning. It was up to us boys to rise early and begin the morning ritual of folding back our bed blankets and stacking them up in the alcove next to the pantry so there was room to move in the house. Then we would take in turn of chopping the wood, collecting the kindling and lighting the burner. Rod being the eldest took his job of being the man of the house very seriously it was his responsibility to put the porridge on and fill the kettle ready for ma to get up and start the day. 

Life for the Grant family had always been one struggle after another. Rod being the eldest son took it upon himself to be the one to look after us he was 16 and would be turning 17 in just a few months. Rod had always said being the boss of the house he could provide for the family better than anyone and that he knew the tricks of the trade in which he could teach the rest of us. The three elder boys often took to the streets to ply their trade whatever that was I wasn’t part of it I was too young. Rod said I had to wait a few more years then their secrets would include me. I never thought much about where the food and clothing came from. I just knew it would turn up. Ma always told the elder boys keep your noses clean every time they went out. I would give a little giggle at that. Why did we have to keep our noses clean I never could understand why.

By the time I had turned 6 the elder boys did take me under their wings and provided me with the information and the tricks to the trade. The trade was pick pocketing. Rod, Rob and Rich taught me what to look for in a unsuspecting victim, how the boys all worked together either standing as a watcher, creating a diversion or pretending to have a punch up allowing the other boys to pick pocket the victims who were trying to break up the fight we would quickly disperse and get away without anyone noticing what they had just lost, their wallet or purse. 

Ralph learned quickly that you only succeed by being strong and fast on your feet in this game. By the time he was eight he was indeed very strong and swift he could pick a pocket and be out of there faster before the person realised what had happened. That’s how he got the nickname ‘swiftly shifty’. Even his older brothers didn’t have the nous or know how to keep up with him. The boys basically lived on the streets now.

Ralph had learned the pick pocketing trade from his older brothers and he was really good at it, it was better than starving. Even ma was grateful but never asked or commented when we brought home the money to her. The younger two girls Ella and Fran always got a new dress or shoes when we had a decent haul. We brothers treated our sisters like princesses we made sure that they were never poked fun off or looked down upon. The Grant family had standards even if we were thieves.

But all good things must come to an end. My brothers and I got nicked which was very unfortunate for us. We were all taken to the goal holding pens where the local law man decided our fate. Every day Ma came down to the holding pens and begged the authorities that we would never walk the streets again. No one was listening, my three elder brothers Rod as he was 18 and considered an adult was sentenced to hard labour for a period of 10 years, Rich and Rob were sent to a workhouse in the capital city of Brisbane for wayward boys until they were 21 and I was sent to a place where the nuns looked after you out in the countryside of Queensland. As part of my punishment i was to have no contact with my family from then onwards, no letters and no visits no communication at all. I was to live at the convent until my 16 birthday that was 7 years away.

During my time at the convent I worked hard I even started a veggie garden for which I was very proud of and results of the garden ladened the dinner table every night and as Ma would say I kept my nose clean. As I was not allowed to have visitors or mail I lost track of my family which was probably a good thing a mouth less to feed for ma. The kids in the convent were treated ok at least we got fed and had a bed to sleep in. The worst thing was having to pray to God every day multiple times for my sins. I always felt that I was lying when I said “God please forgive my sins” and I’ll try harder to become a better person. Rubbish I am who I am. The years rolled past and I was getting closer to my sixteenth birthday. I was feeling anxious what will I do? where will I go?.

Then on my sixteen birthday and before I left the convent old mother Frances, who was mother superior gave me her voice of reason. Ralph she said, after today what you do and where you go will be the mark of your future make it as bright as you want and never ever look back only forward. She shoved a pound note in my hand and scooted me out the back door. There was no formal farewell or goodbye from anyone it just felt strange I was to take my leave immediate. Where was I to go from here and what was I to do, even though I was just sixteen I stood a good 4 inches above any other sixteen year old and I certainly wasn’t puny. I had a stocky build and I often heard the men who worked around the Covent comment that I was built like a brick shithouse. With my small back pack holding my minimal belongings and a couple of apples I had nicked off the table i took my leave and began my journey along the old road. Mother Frances had stated follow the road for about 10 miles and I will reach the township of Jondaryan. Making my way along the road i was totally in awe of my surroundings the view was incredible sweeping hill sides and low plains, I was glad I had the apples as it was a fair hike and I had to walk.

It was almost dusk when I strolled into Jondaryan. I knew I had to find somewhere to sleep as the winds were rising. I needed to take a room at the local pub. I did have a pound in my pocket but I had to be frugal I didn’t know where my next lot of money would be coming from. I had no desire to go back to pick pocketing and to fall backwards into my old habits.

I noted a pub on the corner, as I had never been in a pub I felt a little apprehensive what if they threw me out for being too young. Strolling into the pub no one even took notice of me I casually walked up to the bar and asked for a room for the night, 3 shillings the barmaid said it comes with grub tonight and a light breakfast tomorrow morning. Pulling out my pound note I paid her. She didn’t even ask me my name or business she just stated, take the stairs to the second floor room 10 on your left.

Come down for some stew when your ready. Bounding up the stairs two at a time I found my room throwing my backpack on the bed I reached for the water jug and picking up the towel which had been provided and the jug I headed into the corridor to find the bathroom which was just next door very convenient, Standing at the basin the thought of a stew started my stomach to rumble I had only eating the apples today. I changed my shirt and headed back downstairs I found the dinning area seating myself down when the same bar maid who checked me in approached the table. Do you want a pint with your stew it will be three pence extra. Not wanting to give away my age I requested just a glass of water as I didn’t want to get in trouble if the girl probed me about my age or waste my money this early after leaving the convent. After eating my stew and having a full belly I was ready for my bed. Climbing back up the stairs I opened the door to my room. The bed did look inviting and I was exhausted. Laying on top of the bed in my clothes I feel asleep. I slept like a baby that night. I don’t think I even moved.

I arose early next morning gathering my things I headed downstairs for breakfast. After a bowl of porridge and a cup of tea, I headed out to explore the next chapter of my life, trays and brays were the mode of transport in this town so I managed to hitch a ride with an old drover who was heading North to Galea Station. The old drover could certainly talk but he did make sense he told Ralph that a strapping young man like himself could definitely find work as a shearer’s Rousey. A what! I stated. A rousey he said he does the odd jobs around the shearing shed. It’s good money the old timer said and you never know you might be good enough to be a shearer one day. After half a days travel on the dray I was bone weary. I asked the driver if he could at least drop me near the Galea Station so I could try my luck getting a job as a Rousey.

The old drover responded that he would drop me off at the turn and it will be about a miles walk to the station. As the turn approached we both said our goodbyes and I headed off down the road. As I walked into the shearing farm turning my head looking around I could see hundreds and hundreds of sheep waiting in pens. I saw a dark skinned boy sitting on the fence I approached him and asked where could I find the boss. He pointed a boney finger over yonder. I made my way to the shearing shed where I found the boss a Mr Mac who looked quite at home in the shed. He was a tall well built man wearing an old pair of pants a blue singlet and a slouch hat. I let him know that I was looking for work he asked my age and whether I have worked before as a Rousey, I lied and said I was seventeen and a half and I had worked on a station as an odd job person. Mac as he told me to call him gave me a job as a Rouse-about there and then. Mac stated that I would get three square meals a day, a bed to sleep in and 8 shillings a week and I had to learn quickly. No one was ever the wiser, about my age, as a Rouse-about my duties lead me to assist the station hands to pen sheep for shearing, pick up the fleece after it has been shorn and throw it onto a large table for 'skirting' the process to remove stained or coloured pieces and skin from the wool. I learned fast gaining skills and learning all the tricks of the shearing trade. It was tough and dirty work but I loved every minute of it. At the end of each shearing season with money in our pockets we moved on to another station to start all over again. I was getting a name for myself of being reliable and a hard worker.

The head shearer John Howe known as Jackie approached me when I had turned officially 18 and wanted to know if I could see myself as a shearer. For sure was my answer I’d do anything to become a shearer my ambition was to be just like Jackie a Gun shearer, he could shear 240 sheep a day using the blade shears. Jackie was legendary in the sheep industry. He personally took me under his wing. He showed me how to shear sheep using blades, most important he said sharpen your shears every night make sure your blades are straight and the blade glints they should be able to glide through that wool like slicing bread. Jackie even taught me how to prop the sheep up as not to use my back muscles too much. He stated that is why a lot of shearer’s get aching backs and quit shearing they don’t prop up their sheep properly. 

Being a shearer was hard work but I loved it, there was no other life for me I’d found my niche.

After leaving one shearing shed and before our next shed we had what we called down time which saw us go into the nearest town and spend up some of our hard earned cash. As the years rolled on I learned to drink hard, love hard and work hard but I never regretted those I left behind. The married life with a family was not me, I’d seen enough of the blokes who sheared and brought their family along with them. Not that i minded the women folk as would earn a wage cooking for all of the men on the job and the kids would help in the shed picking up the wool. But it was a hard life for a single bloke let alone a bloke with a family. Money was earned the hard way and I even managed to put some money away just in case. By the time I was 28 I was one of the best shearer’s around I was the gun.

I had a reputation to uphold. I could easily shear 250 sheep a day even beating Jackie’s best tally. I had a lot of challenges from the younger guys who all thought they were gun shearer’s trying to beat me but I wasn’t called swiftly shifty for nothing that name was my legacy. I even made a few bucks from my challenges. So regrets I don’t have any. Like mother Frances told me my life has been my own. I had no one who relied on me, I had no family, I was my own number one person. I felt better and more relaxed I looked down and glanced at my watch 4:30 am well I may as well get up and start me day, making my way to the kitchen the cook poured me a hot cuppa tea and while I filled my belly full of tucker. I headed over to the shearer’s shed. The sheep were already in the pens. Rousers were laying out the tools for the day and making sure all was good to go. Well I said picking up me shears and studying them with a glint of my eye “what’s me target today boss”.