An old locomotive wheezed and clattered
as it carried me rapidly from the city
to lonely paddocks
where livestock lazily browsed.
Arriving three hours later
I carried my luggage
to the Echuca Technical School
because I had nowhere to stay.
I left my suitcase
at a red brick edifice
when directed
towards the Murray River.
Adolescent boys inside a pontoon
were splashing the tepid water
into dissolving patterns
supervised by indifferent teachers.
Moments suspened in time
frozen in the summer heat
in a sort of limbo
waiting.
I was ferried around
hotels and guest houses
until a teacher suggested
I share his hotel room.
The next day
I met my art department colleagues
and some others
later in the staffroom.
Pupils stood at attention
intoned the oath of allegiance
saluted the flag
and were marched to classes.
Forms were graded
alphabetically
according to ability
from the brightest to the dullest.
I taught free drawing
alternating with lettering
and clay modelling
in solid form and relief.
Folios were distributed
with sheets of drawing paper
quarto size for forms 1 & 2
half size for form 3.
It was teaching the old fashioned way
with the holiday themes, posters
and outdoor sketching
from something on the blackboard.
Corporal punishment
was used as a teaching aid
and as a means of self defence
with the strap the usual weapon of choice.
The unwritten syllabus
involved psychological warfare
waged unremittingly
with casulaties on both sides
My Achilles was discovered
with devilish ingenuity
when the term mulehead
could drive me to impotent distraction.
As a suburban stereotype
I was unprepared
for those early country days
of tedious, lonely Sunday ways.
Isolated and at a loose end
I wandered dreary empty streets
at times sharing my room with drunks
with my roommate was away weekends.
It was different during the week
with procedures to learn
discipline to keep
and classes to teach.
But I deceived myself into thinking
I had the ability to succeed
and would dedicate myself
to a long and illustrious career.
In reality I was still drifting
just going through the motions
hopelessly optimistic
with little will of my own.
I flew back to Melbourne
to pick up a car
a black FJ Holden
Pop managed to get for me.
Drinking was a social way of life
with choir practice on Fridays
at the Caledonian Hotel
with Pete telling dirty jokes until six.
Across the border
over the bridge that spanned the river
at Moama in NSW
such restrictions didn’t exist.
I was about to leave
on the last day of the year
and became aware
of someone hovering nearby.
She was a pretty student
whose name was Jill
and it appeared
she had missed her bus.
Gallantly I offered to drive her home
to her parent’s dairy farm
thus beginning
a brief and romanic interlude.
We drove to a lake one evening
to enjoy the view
but got bogged and had to phone her Dad
who towed us free laconically.
Helen
arrived at the school
to catalogue the library
and enhance my social life.
Kissing her could be an ordeal
in the lobby of her hotel
while the same guest appeared and reappeared
like a horse on a carousel.
That and holding hands
lasciviously
was about as far as you went
back then.
I left the pub and rented rooms
then foolishly agreed
to drive the landlady’s son
across the border to NSW.
Instead of leaving
I stayed too long
and became involved
in a drunken altercation.
When he insisted I take off my coat
we became involved
in a stupid scuffle
until we were finally separated.
My landlady was informed
and icily asked me to leave
but I soon found refuge
with Bernie my boozy colleague.
I later moved
to a primitive weatherboard shack
on Miss Hicks’ turkey farm
with a vicious blue heeler.
It was my final year
at the Campaspe River shack
without refrigeration, hot water or TV
and only a wood stove and outhouse.
Some hot summer evenings
I would drive over forest tracks
to stop by the river
and swim naked and alone.
I played tennis
on nicely manicured grass courts
and table tennis socially
and competitively.
On dull boring Sundays
I’d drive into NSW
and roam tussocky paddocks
seeking rabbits to shoot and cook.
I joined the local drama group
with Doll and Fred
to paint and design props for plays
even appearing as an extra once.
I painted a portrait
of the chemist’s wife
although I knew
my interpretation pleased her not a jot.
A private pupil
(who unknow to me was a notorious cheat)
owed me money
and disdainfully refused to pay.
The Echuca schoolchildren
were taken by special train
to see the 1956 Melbourne Olympic Games
and a bout of food poisoning for me.
Later in the year
when the rivers flooded
I helped build sanbags
to build levee banks.
I was going nowhere
as a temporary teacher
without teacher training
and the required industrial experience.
Allowed one year (out of two)
in lieu of part time work
I thought I’d paint overseas
to qualify for teacher training.
With Pop’s financial help
I booked a cabin
on a cargo-passenger vessel
the Tintagel Castle.
