formed on the glass that contained him. Nevertheless we swallowed him.
To give him power over us, that was why. No voice of his own, he was compelled to speak through us.
At other times we jumped into the froth of beer as if it was the spume of surf, like delighted children.
MAKING AN IMPRESSION
Young Sibley was around a lot. Heâd got to the stage where he got the guys to make marks on paper, or point to one of a set of choices, or manipulate blocks and sticks of different length. Most of the time all they had to do was point to something, the tests were aimed at a minimum of familiarity with written and spoken language.
Once, Sibley looked up as Alky Jack passed and I looked too. I wondered if we saw the same man.
One day a paper dropped off his pile when he was sitting out the back of the pub at a table. I thought Iâd better retrieve it for him before the others got to it. He could be writing things that would upset them. He might have forgotten they were taught to read and write at primary school, and most of them still could.
The paper had some guyâs name on it, and a summary of the impressions they made on Sibley.
Danny: Neglected at home. Fair intelligence. Health poor.
Ernie: Splendid memory. Most co-operative. Hard to see how he fits in with this group.
Mick: Easily led. Quiet disposition. Anxious to please. Born loser.
Flash: Rather dull. Sexually backward.
King: Good open disposition. Hesitant. Anal passive?
Darkfellow: Companions regard him as violent, unpredictable.
Lance: Plausible disposition. Completed secondary education. Could be assimilated.
Great Lover : Quick witted, mod. intelligent. Conscientious, painstaking.
Alky Jack: Sullen disposition, unco-operative, rambling speech. Fixed ideas. Premature senility?
Serge: Good open disposition, honest, well-spoken, gentle manner. Effeminate?
I stowed it away quick. If the King or Serge saw it, old Sibley was dead. Anal passive? Effeminate? What next? As for born loserâGod Christ almighty.
THE SHOW
There were a lot of people round for the Show at Castle Hill, and most of the drinking was done not there but down at the Bull.
Ten of us lined up at the bar and to save time we ordered a hundred middies.
âA hundred? You kidding?â said the barmaid.
âFair dinkum,â we said solemnly.
She called the licensee, who sat on the problem for ten seconds before answering.
âYou got money?â he demanded. The pistol showed in his pocket.
âWe got money,â we said, and flashed twenty of it.
âGive,â he said, his hand out.
âGive,â we said, pointing to the bar.
We drank the ten each in an hour. It was a hot day, the beer hardly touched the sides. Who cared if the last five were flat, it was a good laugh.
At the Show, there were stands everywhere with goods for sale. Where did the word goods come from? I wouldnât have called most of them good.
There was a drinks tent. That was a good. The others went off looking at the ring events, but Mick and I wandered over near a blonde and got talking to her. She pulled us out of sight round a corner.
âSheâs got a jealous husband,â Mick said, and she laughed.
âHow about a bite to eat and a drink?â Mick suggested, and she said OK, but first she had to go off to the Ladies.
âGet her full and youâll be right,â Mick said to me while she was gone.
There we were in the drinks tent. We sat her in the middle so the bottle of wine passed back and forth and she was drinking two to our one. In a short time she was full. Full? She was blind.
She was friends with some people showing machinery at the Show, and borrowed their caravan for an hour. She dragged us inside and both of us went through her several times. She wasnât much, but she really went off her head, and made up for it in enthusiasm.
When weâd had enough and the hour was up, we went to the door of the caravan to see if the coast was
To give him power over us, that was why. No voice of his own, he was compelled to speak through us.
At other times we jumped into the froth of beer as if it was the spume of surf, like delighted children.
MAKING AN IMPRESSION
Young Sibley was around a lot. Heâd got to the stage where he got the guys to make marks on paper, or point to one of a set of choices, or manipulate blocks and sticks of different length. Most of the time all they had to do was point to something, the tests were aimed at a minimum of familiarity with written and spoken language.
Once, Sibley looked up as Alky Jack passed and I looked too. I wondered if we saw the same man.
One day a paper dropped off his pile when he was sitting out the back of the pub at a table. I thought Iâd better retrieve it for him before the others got to it. He could be writing things that would upset them. He might have forgotten they were taught to read and write at primary school, and most of them still could.
The paper had some guyâs name on it, and a summary of the impressions they made on Sibley.
Danny: Neglected at home. Fair intelligence. Health poor.
Ernie: Splendid memory. Most co-operative. Hard to see how he fits in with this group.
Mick: Easily led. Quiet disposition. Anxious to please. Born loser.
Flash: Rather dull. Sexually backward.
King: Good open disposition. Hesitant. Anal passive?
Darkfellow: Companions regard him as violent, unpredictable.
Lance: Plausible disposition. Completed secondary education. Could be assimilated.
Great Lover : Quick witted, mod. intelligent. Conscientious, painstaking.
Alky Jack: Sullen disposition, unco-operative, rambling speech. Fixed ideas. Premature senility?
Serge: Good open disposition, honest, well-spoken, gentle manner. Effeminate?
I stowed it away quick. If the King or Serge saw it, old Sibley was dead. Anal passive? Effeminate? What next? As for born loserâGod Christ almighty.
THE SHOW
There were a lot of people round for the Show at Castle Hill, and most of the drinking was done not there but down at the Bull.
Ten of us lined up at the bar and to save time we ordered a hundred middies.
âA hundred? You kidding?â said the barmaid.
âFair dinkum,â we said solemnly.
She called the licensee, who sat on the problem for ten seconds before answering.
âYou got money?â he demanded. The pistol showed in his pocket.
âWe got money,â we said, and flashed twenty of it.
âGive,â he said, his hand out.
âGive,â we said, pointing to the bar.
We drank the ten each in an hour. It was a hot day, the beer hardly touched the sides. Who cared if the last five were flat, it was a good laugh.
At the Show, there were stands everywhere with goods for sale. Where did the word goods come from? I wouldnât have called most of them good.
There was a drinks tent. That was a good. The others went off looking at the ring events, but Mick and I wandered over near a blonde and got talking to her. She pulled us out of sight round a corner.
âSheâs got a jealous husband,â Mick said, and she laughed.
âHow about a bite to eat and a drink?â Mick suggested, and she said OK, but first she had to go off to the Ladies.
âGet her full and youâll be right,â Mick said to me while she was gone.
There we were in the drinks tent. We sat her in the middle so the bottle of wine passed back and forth and she was drinking two to our one. In a short time she was full. Full? She was blind.
She was friends with some people showing machinery at the Show, and borrowed their caravan for an hour. She dragged us inside and both of us went through her several times. She wasnât much, but she really went off her head, and made up for it in enthusiasm.
When weâd had enough and the hour was up, we went to the door of the caravan to see if the coast was
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