Bonzer Words!: Green Waves
...suddenly I can’t hear properly, and the air shimmers in green waves in front of me. I wonder what is happening. Am I going to die?...
Shirley Henwood tells of childhood days of self-doubt and uncertainty.
We are standing in lines for Morning Assembly at the West Preston Primary School in Melbourne. At the head of each line, keeping an eye on us, stand our teachers. The sun is hot although it is only just after nine in the morning. The smell of gum trees is in the air around us, and parrots fly past. I must be about 10 or 11. We sing the school song. The head master leads us in saying the Lord’s prayer. Then we sing God Save the King. The Australian flag is flying.
The head master talks for a long time about something, but suddenly I can’t hear properly, and the air shimmers in green waves in front of me. I wonder what is happening. Am I going to die? I shut my eyes, then open them, but the green shimmering is still there. Is this what it’s like being under the sea, I wonder? I must tell the teacher, I think. I am afraid to leave the line. We are not allowed to break ranks. I feel strange. I walk along the row towards our teacher. I try to run to reach her, 'Please miss, I don’t feel ver . . . ' I see her waist-band and the belt of her green dress coming close towards my eyes, or perhaps I am falling, I don’t know.
The next thing I am aware of is being carried by Mr Potts, who is fat and bald and wears glasses, which make his eyes big. He has a grey jacket on, and the sweat runs down his face in the heat. He carries me upright against his body, and then he starts jogging. I feel the fat of his stomach flopping against me, jiggling me up and down. I am afraid I will get into trouble for causing so much trouble. The jiggling is making me feel sick. What if I am sick all over him, I worry?
Then I am lying in the sick bay, where they leave me for some time. Later on, my mother comes, and then I am at home. I don’t remember how we got home, perhaps a teacher drove us. We don’t have a car or a phone, but I don’t think about these things, as I’ve learnt not to ask questions. Asking questions meets with remarks like, 'Because Y’s a crooked letter and you can’t make it better,’ or various versions of this saying.
They told me that I probably had sunstroke, but I am not taken to a doctor. Doctors are for emergencies, like when you are near death, or broken an arm or leg.
I am kept at home for a couple of days, and then it’s back to school again. Nobody wears hats because of the sun at Assembly. The days of "slip, slap, slop" belong to the future. When the sun is scorching in the middle of the day, we go into the shelter-sheds to eat our lunches. We put our heads under the water taps to cool off. Our hair dries in a few minutes.
We play under pine trees, make houses with pine needles, have concerts. I am a silent watcher. Although I can sing, I am too scared to ever offer. I don’t talk. I don’t know how to talk to anybody, children, or adults. Only at home to my family can I talk. I hate school. I want to stay at home all the time. I don’t know why.
© Shirley Henwood
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Shirley writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au
