Rainbow's End Read online

  DOLLY DYER: [radio voice-over] From the House of Biba, Gladys…

  The scene fades out as the lights fade back to reality.

  DOLLY: Mum’ll be on the radio, she’ll win all those wonderful prizes, she’ll be a hero—

  GLADYS: [correcting her] Heroine.

  NAN DEAR: Why you don’t listen to Jack Davey, Gladys. At least he’s Australian, not one of them flash Yanks.

  DOLLY: Get with the times, Nan, this is the fifties!

  NAN turns her full attention to DOLLY.

  NAN DEAR: I’ve heard you were talking to Leon Arnold.

  DOLLY: So?

  NAN DEAR [threatening her] Speak cheek to me… Where were you talking?

  DOLLY: Just… along the track…

  NAN DEAR: He’s your uncle’s cousin.

  DOLLY : I’m not marrying the boy. [Learned by rote] After all, I can’t marry an Arnold, can’t marry an Anderson, can’t marry a Brock.

  GLADYS: You can’t marry anyone—

  DOLLY: —they’re all related—

  GLADYS: —least not till you’ve finished your studies. And get a good job. In town—

  DOLLY: By then I’ll be old. How old were you, Nan?

  Her chewing-gum bubble pops.

  NAN DEAR: Just get the water.

  DOLLY: Yes, Nan.

  NAN DEAR: And don’t let that boy get fresh. He’s got a wild look.

  DOLLY: No, Nan.

  NAN DEAR: [to herself] Motherless child, poor lad…

  GLADYS: And practise your French verbs.

  DOLLY: Oui, Madame.

  NAN DEAR & GLADYS: [simultaneously] Good girl!

  DOLLY pushes an old pram, which holds a kero tin, in the direction of the river. They watch her depart, then both sigh.

  NAN DEAR: French verbs! Mink stoles! You put ideas into that girl’s head.

  GLADYS: She needs to know the world is bigger than just this.

  NAN DEAR: She doesn’t need to know any more than she does. [Beat. Holding up a rabbit] I’m taking this over to Ester’s. Seems they’re in a bit of a spot. She’s with child again…

  GLADYS: Oh, I didn’t know—

  NAN DEAR: …and she woke up with an [mimicking BOB DYER] ocular contusion… from that whitefella husband of hers.

  GLADYS: I hadn’t heard.

  NAN DEAR: If you spent less time on them quiz shows, you’d know more.

  GLADYS: Yes, Mum.

  NAN exits with rabbit in hand.

  SCENE TWO (B)

  The lights come up on DOLLY pushing the pram, while a Brylcreemed lad, ERROL, wobbles up on a bicycle from the opposite direction. He nearly falls off his bike at the sight of her.

  ERROL: Morning, miss.

  DOLLY nods and ERROL checks out the contents of the pram as he passes. Once they have passed each other they look back and check each other out—an instant spark of attraction passing between them. DOLLY exits.

  ERROL dismounts and studies his map. He looks puzzled, but puts the map away and pushes on towards GLADYS, who is still chopping wood.

  ERROL pulls out a heavy book from the pannier on his bike and takes a tentative step towards GLADYS.

  Excuse me, sir…

  She stands there with the axe.

  GLADYS: Yes? Can I help you, lad?

  ERROL: Sorry, er, ma’am. [Extremely nervous] My name is Errol Fisher.

  I am a representative of… er… I am in this area today, with quite an amazing offer. Um… I have a presentation regarding…

  He offers the book. GLADYS looks at it with interest.

  As you can see… it is that most famous of tomes, the—

  DOLLY has returned and at the sight of her ERROL clumsily drops the book. GLADYS picks it up…

  DOLLY: I don’t think so, mister. They’re not for the likes of us.

  …and dusts it off tenderly. She hands it back to him.

  ERROL: [defeated] : Rightio.

  ERROL turns his bike around.

  GLADYS: Wait. [To DOLLY] Haven’t you got a job to do?

  ERROL turns back, a glimmer of hope. DOLLY puts her nose in the air and exits.

  [To ERROL] What did you say that was?

  ERROL: It is…

  Celestial music is heard for a moment.

  …the Encyclopedia Britannica! If I could be permitted to demonstrate its points, its, um, say… say…

  GLADYS: Salient?

  ERROL: Yes, salient points… Rather, if I could just—at least—run through my, you know… Well, I would truly appreciate it—

  GLADYS: Sit down, son.

  ERROL notices GLADYS is sitting on a kero tin so he does the same.

  ERROL: Presenting… the Encyclopedia Britannica. [His spiel begins.] Your entrée to the world of learning, a world of discovery, a world of fascinating facts…

  GLADYS flicks through the book with interest.

  GLADYS: Like on Pick-A-Box?

  ERROL: Yes! One of last year’s contestants read the Britannica for half an hour each night, and attributed that to the secret of his, his, um…

  GLADYS: Success?

  ERROL: Yes! His success!

  GLADYS: Only half an hour?

  ERROL: But that’s not the end of it! Madam, do you have children?

  GLADYS: Yeah, four of ’em. All grown up and working, except Dolly, she’s my youngest. You know, Bob Dyer’s wife’s name is Dolly. You saw her just then—my Dolly, not Bob Dyer’s Dolly.

  ERROL: That was your daughter? And you’re her…

  GLADYS: Yes. [With pride] Her mother. Mrs Banks.

  ERROL: Mrs Banks. [Beat.] Where were we? Yes—for keen fans of Pick-A-Box, there’s nothing like the Britannica… er… Children—you have four… um…

  GLADYS: But only one at home, the boys are all away shearing.

  ERROL: Yes… because it is for school-aged children… [Nodding in DOLLY’s direction] She’s…?

  GLADYS: School-aged. Nearly seventeen.

  ERROL: Ah! …that this encyclopedia set is most beneficial. It will open up a world of dis…

  GLADYS: Discovery.

  ERROL: Discovery… set them up on a lifelong love of learning, help with school assignments, allowing them to reach their full potential…

  The lights change for a dream sequence. GLADYS sees DOLLY in a robe and clapboard hat.

  GLADYS: [to herself] My girl, a graduate…

  The lighting fades back to reality. GLADYS looks around, fearful that her ‘daydream’ has been witnessed, but it hasn’t. NAN returns. ERROL rises politely.

  ERROL: Ma’am.

  NAN DEAR: [hissing to GLADYS, jutting her lips in ERROL’s direction] What’s he doing here? He’s not the Welfare?

  GLADYS: No.

  NAN DEAR: Churchy type? Tell him we only got time for Papa Dear. He’s our pastor.

  GLADYS: The lad’s doing a presentation.

  NAN DEAR: A what?

  GLADYS: Mum.

  And she’s dismissed. Glowering, NAN tends the fire.

  You were saying? Set them up? Just one book will do all that?

  ERROL: Not one, ma’am. Twenty-four!

  GLADYS: [faintly] Twenty-four?

  ERROL: You’ve seen the condensed version. Now imagine your own leather-bound library in the environment of your own home…

  They are lost in their thoughts.

  GLADYS: Set them up for life, you reckon?

  ERROL: Er, it appears that at this point in time, I am expected to… Well, it’s here that I get out the sales order form…

  NAN hovers.

  NAN DEAR: [to GLADYS] Ask him what it says in that there encyclops about the Aborigines, eh?

  GLADYS: Now, Mum.

  ERROL timidly flicks through the volume.

  ERROL: Er… um… it says, that… Well, I’m quite sure there’s a full and very enlightening entry in the complete set.

  NAN DEAR: [to GLADYS] Is he just?

  GLADYS: Mum!

  ERROL: So, Mrs, er… Banks… if you’re interested, we can fill in
your details…

  He hands a fountain pen and the order form over to GLADYS. She freezes momentarily. DOLLY returns unnoticed.

  GLADYS: Now where have I placed my glasses…?

  NAN springs into action.

  NAN DEAR: Neglected to tell you, love, I stood on ’em. Earlier. All smashed.

  ERROL: That’s terrible!

  DOLLY stands over ERROL.

  DOLLY: You made a wrong turn somewhere. Hand over your map.

  ERROL: [worried] It’s the company’s! If I misplace it they will dock my pay tuppence.

  DOLLY: You got an encyclopedia, so how come you know nothing, eh?

  ERROL: Er…

  DOLLY: As Nan would say, you really came down with the last shower, didn’t you? Hand it over.

  ERROL: Yes, miss.

  DOLLY: Here’s where you went wrong. You turned onto this track, whereas you should have headed over this way and not crossed over the railway line. Here’s where all the toffs live. The whitefellas in their fancy new homes that Mum reckons they think is too good for blackfellas. Shoulda known when you come across blackfella housing that you’d missed your turn-off. You must have a lousy sense of direction.

  ERROL: Yes, miss.

  GLADYS stands up and picks up the axe.

  GLADYS: Yes, son, you’d better ride on over there. That’s where you’ll be selling your encyclopedias. Not here.

  The other two nod in agreement.

  ERROL: Yes, ma’am. I’ll just leave my calling card. I’ll write my name on it. Just in case, ma’am.

  GLADYS: Don’t get called that too often—ma’am. [She laughs.] Just in case!

  ERROL: Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.

  GLADYS: Dolly, show the young man the track. Point him in the right direction.

  DOLLY and ERROL move off. NAN rushes over to GLADYS.

  NAN DEAR: [hissing] Call her back. Right now.

  GLADYS: He’s an [with awe] encyclopedia representative, Mum.

  NAN DEAR: Think I don’t know a snake-oil salesman when I see one!

  GLADYS: He seems nice. Real polite. And she needs to talk to people who are doing something with their lives. People with important jobs, not just picking, like us.

  NAN DEAR: We only pick ’cause that’s all they’ll let us do.

  GLADYS: Exactly.

  NAN is watching DOLLY and ERROL suspiciously from the window.

  NAN DEAR: Anyway, he smells of perfume. What kind of fella smells of perfume?

  GLADYS starts singing ‘I’ve Got the World on a String’. She is looking at Errol’s card. NAN notices.

  Now, Gladys, you won’t be needing any of them encyclops. Won’t help you answer any more questions on the Colgate Palmolive Pick-A-Box, will it?

  GLADYS: Yes, Mum. No, Mum.

  NAN DEAR: That’s right! So don’t go getting ideas. Hardly got two pennies to rub together.

  GLADYS continues to sing softly, as the spotlight goes on DOLLY and ERROL.

  DOLLY: Sold many?

  ERROL: Um… This is my first presentation. Well, the first one I got all the way through, anyhow.

  DOLLY: Fair dinkum?

  ERROL: You see, I just got in. The company gave me a map and a bicycle and a train ticket to Mooro—Moo—roo—

  DOLLY: Mooroopna.

  ERROL: Thanks. I’ve never been so far from Melbourne.

  DOLLY: So you’re from the big smoke? What’s it like?

  ERROL: Good, I suppose. Just like anywhere. [He looks around.] There’s picture theatres and municipal pools—

  DOLLY: They have them here too, you know…

  Except they’re segregated. She moves away from him.

  You go the way I told ya. On the other side of the railway line. You’ll sell plenty of them encyclopedias there. Fancy coming to The Flats!

  ERROL: Yes. But all’s well that ends well.

  DOLLY looks at him, puzzled. He couldn’t possible mean her, could he?

  I get to deliver them. In four weeks… [Shyly] Will you be around in four weeks, when I make my deliveries?

  DOLLY: ’Spose. Not going anywhere.

  He goes to put the book in the bicycle pannier but his bike is not there. A bicycle bell is heard offstage.

  Not delivering them on ya bicycle, I hope?

  ERROL: No… the company utility. Where is my bicycle?

  DOLLY whistles extremely loudly.

  DOLLY: [in a loud blackfella accent] Oi! You little monkeys, get that ruddy bicycle back ’ere, or I’ll give youse a kick up the moom! [Politely] And you were worried about losing your map!

  The sound of the bicycle being dropped offstage.

  There it is. Well… goodbye, then.

  ERROL: Goodbye, then… and thanks.

  DOLLY: What for?

  He stands and watches her while she returns to the humpy.

  The lights go down then come up on the interior.

  As DOLLY enters, GLADYS puts down Errol’s business card with a sigh, but remains transfixed by it.

  GLADYS: You’re right, Mum.

  DOLLY: What is she right about?

  NAN DEAR: She’s the cat’s mother. And I’m right about everything.

  NAN begins stoking up the fire.

  DOLLY: [chuckling] He sure got a fright when his pushbike wasn’t there.

  GLADYS: Ester’s boys took it for a spin?

  DOLLY: Their legs could hardly reach the pedals. Lionel on the handlebars. Roy on the back and Robbie on the seat! Lad didn’t seem to understand what a novelty a new Malvern Star is around here.

  NAN DEAR: Come here, darling.

  DOLLY dutifully goes over and gives NAN a hug.

  You watch who you’re mixing with. Hard to tell a good man from a bad. Bad one will promise you everything, then do the straight opposite, just like that.

  NAN snaps her fingers and DOLLY repeats the gesture. GLADYS just rolls her eyes.

  GLADYS: You get back to your books, Doll.

  GLADYS looks at the card again.

  DOLLY: But I need an encyclops to do me homework!

  DOLLY squeals in mock horror as NAN chases her around inside the humpy with a wooden spoon.

  GLADYS: Do you? [To herself] No… Silly woman.

  But she puts the business card down the front of her dress.

  The lights go down.

  SCENE THREE: LINO

  DOLLY is rummaging at the town tip. She looks at, and discards, a few items.

  The lights change to a dream sequence. A well-groomed SALESMAN appears.

  SALESMAN: [posh] May I be of assistance, miss?

  DOLLY: [posh] Why yars, I’m after new linoleum.

  SALESMAN: We have a wide selection.

  DOLLY: This pattern.

  SALESMAN: Exquisite! Thank you for shopping at Daish’s once more.

  The lights change back to reality.

  DOLLY hoists the lino roll over her shoulder as the SALESMAN fades away. DOLLY walks past the cork trees. She sees someone in the shadows.

  COUSIN: [offstage, slurring] Hey, Dolores. You look real pretty today.

  DOLLY: Hey, Leon.

  COUSIN: [offstage] Why don’t yah join us? We’re having a bit of a party… You look like a party girl.

  DOLLY: Nah, I’m busy. Nan’s expecting me.

  COUSIN: [offstage] ’Nother time then, Dolores.

  DOLLY: Yeah, sure.

  COUSIN: [offstage] Promise?

  DOLLY: ’Course, cuz.

  As DOLLY staggers along NAN appears, going in the opposite direction.

  NAN DEAR: Good girl! [Suspiciously] Which way did you come?

  DOLLY: Aren’t you just glad I found it?

  NAN DEAR: Yes… If I catch you going past those cork trees—

  DOLLY: In good nick and all.

  NAN DEAR: —mark my words, I’ll wallop you.

  DOLLY: Nan, I’m nearly seventeen. You can’t scare me with ‘boogey man’ stories any more. And besides, them goomees are harmless.

  NAN DEAR: What you call them?
Shame! They might be drinkers, but they’re still our people.

  DOLLY: [to herself] And model citizens to boot.

  NAN DEAR: Show some respect, girl. They’ve had it hard, those lads.

  DOLLY: How, Nan?

  NAN DEAR: Never mind. They just have.

  DOLLY: [with a sigh] Yes, Nan. [Beat.] Where’s Mum?

  NAN DEAR: Cannery. Wrangled another shift.

  DOLLY: Why? What’s she saving for?

  NAN DEAR: Grown-up business.

  DOLLY: Where you off to?

  NAN DEAR: Spud Lane.

  DOLLY: No need to ask what’s for tea, then.

  NAN exits and DOLLY staggers on, but when she sees ERROL leaning against the humpy wall, his bicycle nearby, she dumps the lino.

  It’s you.

  ERROL: I came to see your mother. About the encyclopedias.

  DOLLY: Oh? Oh! But she won’t be home for a bit.

  ERROL: Really? I’ll just have to wait. [He planned it that way.] It’s a beautiful day.

  DOLLY: It’s stinking.

  ERROL: It is hot… out here.

  He eyes the humpy, but DOLLY won’t acquiesce.

  You’ve been at school?

  DOLLY: You ask a lot of questions.

  ERROL: My dad reckons I ask too many. But now it’s part of my job. They train me to ask questions.

  DOLLY: Really?

  ERROL: Do you mind if…?

  DOLLY: Another question?

  ERROL: May I have a glass of water?

  He wipes his brow. DOLLY hesitates, then nods. He goes as if to enter.

  DOLLY: You can’t come in… The… um… baby’s sleeping.

  ERROL: [alarmed] Baby? It’s not…?

  DOLLY: It’s… it’s my cousin’s baby.

  She goes in and quickly returns, barefoot, with a cup of water. ERROL looks at the tin cup with interest.

  ERROL: It’s made out of a can!

  DOLLY is humiliated but ERROL doesn’t notice.

  How do you do that? You people can make something out of nothing.

  He sees her reaction too late.

  I, ah, I mean, I’m not trying to… to…

  DOLLY: [bitter] ‘You people’?

  ERROL: I didn’t mean… crikey Moses… It’s fascinating. [Beat.] Is it a little girl?

  DOLLY: Pardon?

  ERROL: The baby.

  DOLLY: Oh, ah, ye—Ah, no, a boy.

  She softens at his interest.

  ERROL: Would you like to go for a ride?