Part 4
As, I was just about to let her fly into the hopper below, heard,
“Spud!”
So, with the full shovel still held high, turned to see Tommy, his face all swollen and shaking my head asked,
“What happened?”
But knowing it was O’Shannasy, turned back and holding the shovel with one hand, raised it too shoulder height, then, as I twisted my wrist and the coal began spilling out into the hopper below. Growled in a deep voice,
“Oh, I feel like the Great John L must have felt! Or, with a sheepish chuckle, hopefully good enough to belt the tripe out of that bloody mate of yours, O’Shannasy.”
“Spud, you know I could have beaten the mongrel, if you had been there, but on my own, there was too many.”
I looked at Tommy’s bruised face and thought,
’ Oh no, I love you just the way you are, but wish, just once you would do your cool and tell ‘em fuck.’
Then as the nerves in my stomach, started to tighten, grabbed my shirt, gave Tommy a wink, turned and as we climbed down from the coal wagon, said,
“Come on mate, let us go down to the old Central, he’ll be there, out the back running the rabbit for old Wilson the bookie.”
As we began crossing the tracks, to head up town, I put my arm around Tommy shoulders and giving him a hug, whispered in his ear,
“Let me go for it, you just watch my back okay.”
As we drew closer to the old Central the nerves disappeared and as a smile came to my face, began softly whistling through my teeth. On reaching the old Central, turned into the alleyway and began slowly walking along to the stable’s area out the back. Where leaning against the wall, surrounded by some of his gang was Lippy O’Shannasy.
On sighting him, I walked straight up, dropped my left shoulder slightly and smacked him right in the mouth. He was just coming off the wall, to say something, when the force of my punch, drove his head back against the wall. So, as not to lose him, grabbed a hand full of his hair and screwing his face around towards me began savagely bashing the shit out of him. When through the screams heard, Tommy yell
“Spud, you are killing the bugger!”
On hearing this stopped, but still holding his hair, looked to see blood running from his nose, his mouth and from a very nasty gash along his eyebrows. And thinking he had had enough, wrenched his head around so I could look into his eyes, then, ‘ loud enough for his gang to hear’, shouted.
“If any one of you bastards, ever again touch my brother, so help me god, I will bash you too death!”
And with that, as I gave him a vicious backhanded across the face, let him go and as he fell backwards against the wall, rounded on his mates. But on seeing they were not going to fight, wiped the back of my right hand across the arse of my pants, ran my fingers through my hair, gave Tommy a wink, turned and as quietly as we came we left.
But on rounding the corner and started heading back to our side of the tracks, heard Tommy whisper,
“Thanks, but hell you scare me sometimes, it’s like you know exactly what you are doing and go at it so fast. Hell, I bet that whole thing did not last twenty seconds, yet, he will remember that, for the rest of his life.”
On hearing him say this, thought to myself, yes I also am scared, But it seems fighting comes easy, the only thing is somehow I can punch so hard, one day something bad could happen, so muttered, “Yeah”
Feeling a gentle shake, started to struggle when heard,
“Oh, Mr Bradshaw, you worried me, you were shaking so bad and muttering over and over, Tommy, I thought I had better wake you.’
By now, completely exhausted and worrying about Tommy, started to close my eyes, when this strange feeling of knowing her before, came back, so asked again,
“Could you please tell me where you come from, there is something there, that is bothering me?”
She stared at me for a moment then as if satisfied, replied,
“Monto.”
“Oh yes,”
I gasped,
“That’s it,”
And, ‘with the feeling I was right’, hoarsely whispered,
“You must know Tommy Wilson, we also lived in Monto?”
She frowned for a moment then asked,
“How long ago, because I do remember my mother Mollie, before she died, would every A. N. Z. A. C. day, place flowers on the grave of a Sgt T Wilson. When, I asked her why, she told me that Mr Wilson had been killed, when he and his mate Spud Bradshaw, had been blowing up some railway bridge in Italy and the flowers were for, this Mr Spud Bradshaw?”
Then with the smile only a woman can give, continued with.
“They were lovers before the war and I think, though she never really said, he was my father and it was as close as she could get to him, his remains were never found,”
To stop and stare at me for a moment, then as tears began to flow, put her hand across her mouth and gasp,
“You poor man, Oh no, you are Spud Bradshaw.”
But not wanting to hear this, started shaking my head, when out on the clear night air, came old Khalu quilling his tune, and with the feeling Tommy was here somewhere, stood. Too see him over by the rows of spuds and onions waiting and with a gush of happiness, began running along the platform, crying out.
“Tommy, wait we will watch her together, our big black beast with its whiskers of steam and greasy black hair, as she rushes by.”
I would like to end, with this short verse,
In death as in life
We are in the company of friends
Ash Salaam
