KarmaCarol was chowing down on her slither of barramundi, with a side of grilled tofu and vegan patties.
The grilled tofu was perfect. Gosh, Tom was a genius on the grill. The vegan patties a little under done. She could excuse Tom, as he was used to see the blood flow and turn from red, darker red, just done brown to dark, then over done oozy liquid. The patties still had an over kale taste and whatever protein extender they’d used was overdone by a handful. However, it was the barramundi she was particularly enjoying. It seemed so succulent, with what she thought was a slight hint of briny sea water.
“Where’d ya get this then?” Tom asked as he flipped it.
“Down at the organic butcher next to Woolies,” she replied, “I always shop local!”
“Bah! And the butcher’s selling fish he ?” he retorted.
“Yes,” she said, ” he said it was ocean fresh.”
“I reckon! When it came out of some ocean fish pond in the Bay of Thailand before freezing, road to Bangkok, airfreighting to Sydney then road transported from Mascot to warehouse then on to Goulburn.
KarmaCarol suppressed a rising gag. She’d been taken in by the locals, and not for the first time. Her training all those years ago at finishing school was not wasted, replying,
” Thanks for letting me know Tom, I’ll be sure to be more vigilant next time, thank you.”
When she’d forced down the final mouthful of barramundi, leaving half a patty untouched, she delicately touched the sides of her mouth with her linen napkin. Yes she knew paper serviettes might serve the purpose as well, and without the added discipline of having to wash, dry and iron. But that was her and such training is hard won. She liked herself and for once in her life someone liked, even loved her. Franklin had been a real boon to her self esteem. Coming to the country had been the wisest decision she’d made in a lifetime of self sacrifice.
As KarmaCarol was ruminating on these thoughts, she saw Deb crossing the fire circle. They’d not been introduced formally, but though she’d have preferred this, a spontaneous meeting in this setting was to be expected.
Deb sized up Karma Carol as she approached. Deb recognised the distinct posture she adopted. Back straight, feet slightly outwardly opposed, and an ever so delicate hip twist, presenting a different plane in the lower body to upper torso. It was the elegance taught with books on head and not in hand they’d both picked up from youthful classes. This vision eased Deb’s latent anxiety. Surely a lady of some breeding like her could form a useful ally. Not yet at the hug or air kissing stage of a relationship Deb meet KarmaCarol’s proffered hand with a nodding,
“So very nice to meet you,” though she stopped before saying Allen had spoken glowingly of her partner VK39BAA.
KarmaCarol was surprised by the cultured tone of Deb’s voice. This was most unexpected. Out around Goulburn where she and Franklin lived, dropped “haitches”, truncated names and severely foul language were all the go. Not since living in Mosman had she heard the calming lilt of well-spoken English. It took her back like an elastic wound too tight then released, an energy which spoken word had given her, now sadly unexercised.
” And you too, do you like coming out back of beyond for these Ham meets?”
Deb wondered how to answer, and if she did, then how enthusiastically. She decided on discretion and kept her comments neutral. This wasn’t a time to exchange bosom buddy confidences, something she realised she’d missed in recent times.
“It’s my first actually, you could say I’m a Ham Virgin,” half smiling at her little attempt to engage KarmaCarol.
” Well my cherry popped soon after we came out here,” KarmaCarol, continuing the slightly loaded metaphor.
“This is our, hhmm, I can’t recall how many times we’ve been here. Apparently it’s a great spot for hamming, especially on a cloudy night when the stratosphere is reflexive. She was clearly not much into the technical stuff, as was Franklin, but tagged along so as not to be left alone in dullsville Goulburn for a weekend.
“So what else is there to do if you’re not on the radio? Guess this weekend will be intense with clipped conversations or Morse transmissions from world wide call signs,” Deb said trying to ease herself into the Ham world.
“I usually wander around in the day, but typically there’s no other women here so it’s pretty solitary. I’d never be seen with any of the guys. Innocuous as they seems, they all wag big fat tongues,” KarmaCarol said.
Deb chewed over what KarmaCarol had said. Perhaps this was a her chance for some girl talk over this weekend, the better because once they’d all gone home the chance of meeting again was unlikely. A chance to visit the virtual confessional into which she’d shared her most intimate secrets. It was where her tortured existence had found its roots. Allan, James, Robbie and her long ago ex husband had played their separate roles in keeping her locked in that dark booth; and they weren’t even Catholic!
Deb thought this wasn’t the time to get down and intimate, there was a whole weekend ahead, and chances would present.
Deb then replied after a moments thought,
“Well, I best get back and see what Allen’s up to, he’s getting on a bit now and he’s shaky on his feet, not that he’d admit it.”
“Oh poor dear,” KarmaCarol murmured supportively instinctively for a finishing school grad. Recognising that such a fate awaited Franklin and herself down life’s road she continued,
“I watched my Dad and Mum decline over several years, and though they had private elder care I hated the process. To be truthful, I’m glad it’s all over now and I can get on with my life.”
Deb realised the conversation was sliding into a realm she hoped for in the future so she brought it to an end with,
“I’m so sorry to hear that, can we catch up this weekend for a real chat?”
KarmaCarol perceptively picked up on the stressed, real, responding,
“Oh of course, love to, anytime I’m free, just come over to our trailer. I promise to come over whenever I can slip away, which by the looks of it should be no problem this weekend.”
” Ok,” said Deb, “a deal.”
And without thinking they spontaneously reached out and embraced with cheek kissing on either cheek, a sure sign of their developing friendship.
The Hobart Chinaman 