Free Barbed Wire and Cherry Blossoms by Anita Heiss Page B

family.
    â€˜Here in Cowra, football – footy – is very popular.’ Mary loves her football as much as the others at Erambie. It’s a time when all the community can have some fun, although the men are very competitive and sometimes the women too, and on occasion there’s fisticuffs, as her dad calls it. ‘We don’t have much money here, but one ball can keep us entertained for hours.’
    â€˜Football,’ Hiroshi says the word for the first time.
    â€˜Footy.’
    â€˜Footy. I like the sound of football,’ Hiroshi says, then corrects himself, ‘Footy.’
    They both grin widely.
    Mary wants to tell Hiroshi more about the Erambie Allblacks, who played their last game in 1940, and that it’s the new players that are known as the Black Diamonds. But she doesn’t have time to go into the history of football and simply says, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
    â€˜Ashita mata,’ Hiroshi replies. ‘See you tomorrow.’

    â€˜There’s the bell,’ Joan sings out to her children two days later. ‘School’s on!’
    The kids all stagger out of their bedroom, whining about having to go to school. It’s only across the mission but the Williams kids drag their feet every time. The kitchen is warm and the air smells sweet and that’s where they’d rather stay.
    â€˜Here’s some porridge, eat it quickly and then be off,’ Joan says.
    Mary hopes her mother has managed to pick the weevils out of the oats. She tries her best but sometimes she doesn’t have enough time and the goothas start up about it. This morning they are too concerned about having to go to school, which isn’t an everyday occurrence.
    â€˜I like the days when Mr Smith is too busy for school,’ Dottie says.
    â€˜Me too, the days when the bell doesn’t ring are the best!’ Jessie agrees, having fully recovered from her hospital visit.
    â€˜Just finish your breakfast and go,’ Joan says, trying to get around with James stuck to her leg. ‘And be polite!’ she instructs. Joan doesn’t have much faith in the mission school, it’s hit and miss and she believes it’s second-rate teaching. ‘The government must think it’s good enough for the Black kids,’ she’s been known to say when the kids are at home for days on end.
    â€˜It’s a waste of time, we don’t learn anything. Mary would be a better teacher than Mr Smith or his wife,’ Betty grumbles as she ushers her younger sisters out the door. She isn’t a fan of the school and some days when she goes home for lunch, she convinces her mother to let her stay home and help clean.
    Mary crosses the mission to the Manager’s house. It’s a blue-sky day but the cold wind stings her face; she had some porridge but it wasn’t enough to warm her properly. She sees a magpie and stops in her tracks. She recalls the saying that Uncle Kevin has taught her, has taught them all: One for sorrow, two for joy, three for girls, four for boys, five for silver, six for gold, seven for stories that have never been told.
    She knows she has to see another magpie quickly so that there is joy, not sorrow. She spends the whole day looking out the window as often as she can to see a second magpie, hoping there won’t be any bad news about Hiroshi being found, or anyone she knows getting sick, or worse, dying.
    As she finishes washing the dishes that night there is a knock on the Smiths’ door. It’s a young Murray fella, hersecond cousin about the same age as Betty, who is usually very quiet. He’s been crying and is breathing heavily when Mr Smith opens the door.
    â€˜What is it then?’ Smith says coldly, not acknowledging the lad’s distress.
    â€˜My mum had a baby,’ the boy sobs, ‘but it died.’ And he pushes himself into the belly of the Manager for comfort.
    Mary drops the metal bowl she’s