In early memory I am riding my six-four grandfather’s shoulders
like a mahout.
Saying goodbye
For James J. Cormier, Jr., Esq., for sharing
his personal story.
Booval, QLD and
Sydney, NSW, Australia
Booval, QLD and
Sydney, NSW, Australia
1945-1953
In early memory I am riding my
six-four grandfather’s shoulders
like a mahout.
He took me on his rounds – railroad
tool shop,
pool hall, pub, racetrack, horse
farm, orchard. 4
The railroad tool shop rumbled with
repetitive
din of machines dye-stamping,
drilling, spinning.
I sat at his desk quietly drawing
trains
on green graph paper, using a
compass, ruler. 8
The pool hall was filled with
railroad workers sporting
grease-stained white T-shirts,
suspenders, steel-toed boots.
Bent over green-clad tables, their
muffled voices
barely audible above the crack of the
balls. 12
He'd say, “Let's go to the
pub." I loved the sawdust
and stale beer smells, my glass of
ginger beer.
I laughed with the guys who always
asked, "Are you
Aussie or Yank?" I always
answered, "Both!" 16
On Saturdays grandfather ran the
racetrack tote board.
Afterward, we picked up discarded
claim tickets.
Every once and a while, we found a
winner
I stuck in his hatband like a
feather. 20
My father
managed a barn and boarded strangers’
horses. In fig groves there, I set bird traps
high in the trees for
Grandfather. He would cage
the birds a short while, release and
catch some more. 24
On Guy Fawkes Day when I was six,
my fireworks
jumped the barrel, setting a field
ablaze.
The fire threatened to burn several
buildings,
including the school. My friends all ran away. 28
I fled to Grandfather’s and hid
under his bed.
The police, firemen, neighbors,
family and school
searched until dusk. After the fuss
died down,
he came home, looked under his bed,
hugged me. 32
When I was eight, my folks decided
to emigrate.
They promised we would return to see
my Grandfather
who came to the dock to see us
off. The steward
handed us each a streamer. Mine was
white. 36
I threw one end to Grandfather and
kept the other.
The gangplank removed, whistle
blown, lines cast-off,
the ship carefully backed out of
the slip.
I walked toward the bow; he walked along
the pier. 40
We fiercely clutched our end of the
streamer.
In the channel the ship pivoted
like a hippo.
The streamer’s coils stretched
until they broke
and each end slowly fluttered to
the water. 44
I saw Grandfather bury his face in
his hands
and bow his head.
I
never saw him again.
