This is really good. I do be careful. I’ll tell Dad.
“Could you, please, write down for my Dad, the details in my new note book, Sir, while I have a look around?”
“Sure! Tell your Dad, he can put the Flying Scotsman on lay-by and I will put it away for your birthday. Nobody else will get it, that way.”
So I am having a good look around, especially at the monster Meccano sets. And here there’s a bright shining brass steam engine machine. It uses real water that you heat up in the little engine boiler, until it gets so hot that the steam power turns the big wheel... I’d like one of those.
Bit sad! All I can afford today is a yellow and green Dinky truck, not much bigger than a match box, easy to fit that into my bag.
Now it’s time to have early lunch... Just round the corner in Edward Street. First say goodbye to the shop man.
“Thank you for your trouble. I’ll make sure Dad will be back here soon. You could write down my name .It is Fred Jones. My Dad is Mr Charles Jones. We live in Alfred Street, Corinda. I have to go now for an early lunch.”
Off down the street. Maybe I should not have given my name, too bad. Be more careful, next time.
There it is - The Colony Club. I’ll keep Mum’s sandwiches for tea. Goodness knows where I will be by then. The waiter, who knows me, is standing at the door. Does that a lot. Likes the fresh air, even though the air moves around a lot in The Colony Club.
I love the big ceiling fans that are right across the room, hanging down, and going to’n’fro. Mum says they are copied from Singapore; but in Singapore they don’t have a machine to make them go. They just use the natives. Must be a boring job pulling the ropes. Sure makes the place the coolest café in Brisbane.
“Where’s your Mum to-day? She always comes with you.”
“Oh today, Mums got to go to get some corsets fitted at that place in the TNG building called New Age Creations. Said it’s not the place for a twelve year old boy. The fat ladies don’t like boys gawking at them. I said, “I don’t gawk!”, but she told me to go and get an early lunch here at the Colony Club, because you know Mum and me too. Then I have to go up to the School of Arts Library and pick out my next eight books. She said she’d get late lunch at the Colony Club and then she’ll meet me at the Library. I just have to stay there reading Biggles, or whatever, till she gets there.”
“The waiter says, “Thanks for the long story... Almost got us both to afternoon tea time.”
I think, he thinks, he’s funny. I give a grin.
“You better sit up the back corner, where you like to be, and can see everybody. I suppose the usual: pie-an-peas with mashed potatoes, a piece of pavlova with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a glass of ginger beer.”
“Yes, please”
“I will put it all on the bill. Keep it for when your Mum comes later.”
“Thank you a lot.”
This is just the best meal. And Mum’ll pay later (quite a bit later) and I’ve still got plenty of money from the money box. Think of all those kids back at school eating squashed ham or peanut butter or Windsor sausage sandwiches and apples and all that. Here I’ve got a hot pie, hotter than what comes off the pie man’s truck on Fridees.
*******************
Now I’m off to have a sit n think, in King George Square. Work out what next to do. I have missed the train to Sydney. It goes about now. I’d never get to the station on time. Too bad. Grandpa says, “The world is wide.” Plenty other places to see.
Strange how my Commonwealth Bank Money Box looks exactly like the big Commonwealth Bank over there. Wonder if the tin-makers copied it, when they made the box. It looks so real, real.
I will walk round to Roma Street. Take my time. Look at anything interesting. Won’t catch a tram this time. Don’t part with your money, unless you have to. That now is my motto. So far I have not spent a penny, which reminds me to go to the lavatory soon! Funny how in the Ladies, Mum told me you have to put a penny in the door slot to get the door open. Lucky we don’t need to sit down for a number one. Last time I had a big wee I nearly drew a rabbit in wee not oils. Funny how your mind wanders. What was I thinking about??? Oh the money... and not paying at the Colony Club. Mum is going to be so angry, when I get home and tell her that we owe money at the Colony Club. How I told the man she’d pay later. Better not forget! Dad will be mad, but I will deserve it. Can’t do anything ’bout it now. Better get up, get going. Can’t sit here for the whole arvo. Gran says in life you got to get up and get going, especially in the hard times. So “pack up me troubles in my old school bag and smile, smile, smile”... Is that how the song goes?
Great! Roma Street Railway Station at last... Didn’t take that long after all. Gees! There are lots of places to go to on the boards. But who’d want to go to Pinkenba? Better Toogoolawah. Never been there. Ferny Grove looks good. I think there is a creek you can swim in there. Not sure how I’d find it. If you don’t know, ask a policeman; but he might ask me why I am not at school and me saying, I am going by myself to the dentist, will seem a bit funny, after asking the way to the creek. Think I’ll forget about Ferny Grove. Go there another day.
Wow. A lot of places on this board I’ve never been. Like Mr Brown’s lessons on Geography and the Products of Queensland. Bundaberg: sugar and rum. Rockhampton: beef. Longreach: not sure, something to do with QANTAS, the Queensland and Northern Territory Aerial Service. Mr Brown drummed that into us. Don’t think Qantas is a product... Won’t worry, but think I’ll go for Longreach. Wonder how long it takes to get there? I’ll be able to say to Dad, I been where you said I was born, you know the joke, when I reached over past Grandpa to get the tom sauce bottle. I did ask Grandpa three times to pass the sauce please!, but he was talking too much; or didn’t hear. So I just leaned as far as I could and grabbed it. Then Grandpa says, “Where did he come from?” (Not too pleased) So Dad says quick as a flash, “He was born in Longreach .Didn’t ya know?” And all Grandpa says is, “Matter of fact. No.” End of story.
I wish I had known I was going to Longreach, last night. I could have put a clue in my letter, like “Off to visit, where I was born. Hint, Hint, Ask Dad.
I better stop all this day dreaming and work out what to do next... I know, I will do what I saw my rather naughty, Aunty Mildred do, when she was off to Charleville. I will just buy a Platform Ticket for one penny and then hop on the train, when it’s about to go: even if Mum says, “Don’t you ever try to copy Aunt Mildred.” Sometimes you gotta break the rules but. Trouble is, when Aunty is on the train, when the ticket man comes around collecting tickets, she gives him a fiver and asks for a good seat. When I ask Aunty about this she says, “The porters don’t get paid much They like real paper money better than little pieces of cardboard tickets!” and she adds, “You’ll understand, when you grow up.” Mum says with a sour face, “Some of us never understand.” Sisters have goes at each other, sometimes, not nice. But I don’t have a five pound note. Have to work something different out. First step: go to the ticket counter.
“I want a one penny platform ticket, please”
“Who are you with?”
“With my Aunt Mildred who is going to Charleville, I mean Longreach. I came with my Mum, but she is trying to settle Aunt Mildred down. They have hurried ahead. Aunty always thinks she is running late, even when she ain’t.”
“Where’s the money sonny? Thanks! Here’s your ticket. Platform Three”
Lucky! He did not ask something like, “How come your Mum hasn’t bought a platform ticket?” I’d have to say, “Sorry Mister. I forgot. Please give me two. Then I would have spent another penny, but not the Ladies Lavvy way.
THE NEXT TRIP
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