Adelaide V

When I was a little girl I lived in a house with my two sisters and my dad. It was in one of those real poor suburbs, so the rents were cheap. Dad could pay a whole week's rent with a few five dollar bills.

Well, we lived there, and the back part of the house was divided off, and an old drunk man lived there. He didn't come out much, but when he did he was kind of stooped low. He tried to be nice to us and smiled really big, like this, but we didn't speak back. It felt kind of mean, but it also felt like the right thing.

We had a yellow brick house and next door was a wooden house where a real old lady lived. Mrs Bishop. She had chooks. She lived with a really old man. The house was always dark because they didn't open the blinds.

Mrs. Bishop had carpet in her house that was thick, but kind of dirty. Everything was like, dusty. And there were things piled up. Mrs Bishop would let children come over after school. Me and my sisters went, and there'd be about three or four others. They probably went to to our  school, but we didn't know them.  Everyone from round there went to the same school.

When we went over we sat on wooden chairs between piles of other things in this tiny lounge room. Mrs Bishop would give us a drink, and little pamphlets to share between two. The pamphlets would have four pages with a few songs and one story. Sometimes the songs were the same, but the stories were always different. Mrs Bishop would read them out, and we would listen.

...

Dad would leave for work early. Before he left he would lay out the clothes we had to wear on our beds. He would put our breakfast cereal in our bowls and pour the milk on. He was gone by seven when I woke up.

I had to get up first because I was the eldest. I had to make sure my sisters got to school on time. If dad left some change on the table we could catch the bus. Otherwise we'd walk.

My sisters didn't always get up on time. I would eat my breakfast first because I hated how the rice bubbles went soggy and the milk got warm. Sometimes my sisters wouldn't eat their breakfast. They'd chuck it over the fence for Mrs Bishop's chooks.

Mrs Bishop used to come over to give dad bunches of mint. Dad hated mint, but he took it anyway. After she'd gone he'd pull a face and tell us how much he hated mint and chuck it straight in the bin. One time when she came over she told dad she found rice bubbles on her side of the fence.

Dad wasn't happy about that. He made us all sit at the table, so I knew it was going to be bad. I just sat hard and stiff and bit down on my teeth. It didn't take him long to work out whose breakfast it was. I just kept staring at the table when my sisters got the paddling.

...

The school we went to was really big. There was an oval, and grass, and lots of black bitumen. The buildings were big too. With real big windows that looked down at you from everywhere. It was sort of beautiful because they were so old, but it was spooky too. You could have fitted two floors under the ceilings in there. Always made me feel like a lynch mob would be coming any moment to do their business.

The buildings might have been nice but the kids weren't. I never heard fouler words than I heard in that yard. Some things I mightn't understand the meaning of, but I knew what they meant. It was like everything was turned inside out. All those things we hear about in church was upside down there.

Because there was three of us, one dad and no mum we didn't have to pay for much at that school. One day I lost my pen and I felt real bad. The teacher came round and told me to ask at the window by the principal's office. They gave me a brand new one just like that! Not chewed or anything.

They must have known that dad never told us to brush our teeth. There was a portable building where dentists who were still learning used to come a couple of times a week. Whenever I had to walk up that ramp my back felt all icy. I didn't like going there because it always hurt.

Just about every time they'd be drilling. Just like they were drilling for fun to learn about drilling. First you got to see the long needle, then you'd watch them start up that ugly grey bit on the end before they put it in your mouth. I will never forget the time to man drilled so much he drilled out of my tooth and into my gum. Even though he'd given me the needle I felt it.

One time they told me they wouldn't be doing drilling and gave me a fluoride treatment. They had these rubber things they put around your  teeth. The dentist person said it was hawaiian flavoured and would taste nice. He told me to bite down. After a while it hurt and I wanted to stop but I knew I should do what I was told. I bit and bit the whole time even though my jaw was sore. I don't know why they called it hawaiian flavour. It tasted like vomit to me.

...

We'd go to church every Sunday. Dad said the church had been good to us. They'd been the ones who'd put us up when we arrived - in the caravan behind the church, beside the pastor's house.

We got baptised in that church. You had to get baptised before you could speak in tongues. I asked one of the girls at Sunday School how she spoke in tongues. She said it was a secret, and you would only know how to do it when the Holy Spirit was in you. She said it was a special language to speak to God. When they spoke in tongues in the middle of service everyone spoke at once. I wondered how God could work out and understand what everyone was saying.

When we got baptised we had to wear white robes and eveyone sang. The most amazing thing was, when we walked in, the floor opened up and inside was this white pool with water that came up to your waist. We went over to the pastor and he bent us over backwards to dunk us into the water. When I came back up all wet and cold I was expecting to feel different. I was expecting to know how to speak in tongues. I just felt the same and at the service next Sunday, when it came time to speak in tongues and everyone said all those strange words, I tried making some up. But it just didn't feel right. The whole thing just seemed like pretending and everyone was joining in.

There was other things like that in church, like when you could go up the front if you were sick or worried about something. Everyone stood in a line and you would wait for the pastor to come over to you. There would always be someone standing behind you, because after the pastor said that the power of the Lord would work through him, with his hand on your forehead, all that power was so strong it would make you fall over and faint. The person behind you would make sure you didn't hurt yourself when you fell on the floor.

My sisters and I wanted to see what it would feel the power of the Lord. We each thought of something that the Lord could help us with and stood in front of the congregation. When it was our turn the pastor pushed really hard on my forehead, but I didn't feel anything. I stood straight and stiff. The pastor  pushed again and said, loudly, "Be Healed!" and pushed again. I didn't feel anything and I didn't want to fall over just because he was pushing me. He pushed one more time, but I just stood straight. The same thing happened with my sisters. The Lord's power did not come down to us.

...

Before we lived with our dad, we lived with our mum and her new boyfriend, Leon. They took us away one night to a hotel in town. That was the beginning of seeing things that children should not have to see. Some of that had happened before. Before.

We stayed the night in town and then the next day we went on a train across to the other side of the country. I remember standing beside mum when she was buying the tickets at the train station. I remember looking at a neon sign with grapes and a wine glass. It took a long time. She passed over a lot of big notes. The next day we caught the train. All five of us. The trip took three days.

When we got out at the other side, we had no-one to meet us. It was raining hard. We walked out of the railway station to where big trucks unloaded things onto the train. Leon asked one of the men with an empty truck if he could take us to the place we were staying. He gave the driver some money and we got in the back with our suitcases. The driver left one of the canvas flaps up so we could see.

We lived in an apartment by the sea. There were some strange people staying there. Like the boy who had a knife go right through his foot, and kept on telling us that my sister's name was Simon. He always called her Simon and asked her to come and play with him every day. My sister was a tomboy so it was okay. We all started calling her Simon after that. She didn't care.

The laundry was outside. One day the roof blew off. The wringers didn't work and we had to twist the water out of the towels by hand. Leon was strong and when he twisted from his side it hurt your hands, because they had gone all cold and soft with the water.

Lots of things happened there that didn't seem right. I don't know if I want to tell you about them all. Sometimes we were locked out of the apartment after school. Mum and Leon were inside, but we weren't allowed in. I used to take my sisters to my friend's house, a few streets down. She had a really nice room and lots of dolls and a new TV. We didn't have a TV. We drank out of jars and ate out of pots. Mum would usually come and get us just before dinner.

Sometimes we used to see what Mum and Leon did. Sometimes on the weekend it got really late and I'd make them breakfast. They would lock the bathroom door. We had to wait. We always had to knock and wait until they said "Come in" before we could go into their bedroom.

There were more things, but I don't want to tell you about them now.

...

Adelaide IV

When I was a little girl I lived in a house with my two sisters and my dad. It was in one of those real poor suburbs, so the rents were cheap. Dad could pay a whole week's rent with a few five dollar bills.

Well, we lived there, and the back part of the house was divided off, and an old drunk man lived there. He didn't come out much, but when he did he was kind of stooped low. He tried to be nice to us and smiled really big, like this, but we didn't speak back. It felt kind of mean, but it also felt like the right thing.

We had a yellow brick house and next door was a wooden house where a real old lady lived. Mrs Bishop. She had chooks. She lived with a really old man. The house was always dark because they didn't open the blinds.

Mrs. Bishop had carpet in her house that was thick, but kind of dirty. Everything was like, dusty. And there were things piled up. Mrs Bishop would let children come over after school. Me and my sisters went, and there'd be about three or four others. They probably went to to our  school, but we didn't know them.  Everyone from round there went to the same school.

When we went over we sat on wooden chairs between piles of other things in this tiny lounge room. Mrs Bishop would give us a drink, and little pamphlets to share between two. The pamphlets would have four pages with a few songs and one story. Sometimes the songs were the same, but the stories were always different. Mrs Bishop would read them out, and we would listen.

...

Dad would leave for work early. Before he left he would lay out the clothes we had to wear on our beds. He would put our breakfast cereal in our bowls and pour the milk on. He was gone by seven when I woke up.

I had to get up first because I was the eldest. I had to make sure my sisters got to school on time. If dad left some change on the table we could catch the bus. Otherwise we'd walk.

My sisters didn't always get up on time. I would eat my breakfast first because I hated how the rice bubbles went soggy and the milk got warm. Sometimes my sisters wouldn't eat their breakfast. They'd chuck it over the fence for Mrs Bishop's chooks.

Mrs Bishop used to come over to give dad bunches of mint. Dad hated mint, but he took it anyway. After she'd gone he'd pull a face and tell us how much he hated mint and chuck it straight in the bin. One time when she came over she told dad she found rice bubbles on her side of the fence.

Dad wasn't happy about that. He made us all sit at the table, so I knew it was going to be bad. I just sat hard and stiff and bit down on my teeth. It didn't take him long to work out whose breakfast it was. I just kept staring at the table when my sisters got the paddling.

...

The school we went to was really big. There was an oval, and grass, and lots of black bitumen. The buildings were big too. With real big windows that looked down at you from everywhere. It was sort of beautiful because they were so old, but it was spooky too. You could have fitted two floors under the ceilings in there. Always made me feel like a lynch mob would be coming any moment to do their business.

The buildings might have been nice but the kids weren't. I never heard fouler words than I heard in that yard. Some things I mightn't understand the meaning of, but I knew what they meant. It was like everything was turned inside out. All those things we hear about in church was upside down there.

Because there was three of us, one dad and no mum we didn't have to pay for much at that school. One day I lost my pen and I felt real bad. The teacher came round and told me to ask at the window by the principal's office. They gave me a brand new one just like that! Not chewed or anything.

They must have known that dad never told us to brush our teeth. There was a portable building where dentists who were still learning used to come a couple of times a week. Whenever I had to walk up that ramp my back felt all icy. I didn't like going there because it always hurt.

Just about every time they'd be drilling. Just like they were drilling for fun to learn about drilling. First you got to see the long needle, then you'd watch them start up that ugly grey bit on the end before they put it in your mouth. I will never forget the time to man drilled so much he drilled out of my tooth and into my gum. Even though he'd given me the needle I felt it.

One time they told me they wouldn't be doing drilling and gave me a fluoride treatment. They had these rubber things they put around your  teeth. The dentist person said it was hawaiian flavoured and would taste nice. He told me to bite down. After a while it hurt and I wanted to stop but I knew I should do what I was told. I bit and bit the whole time even though my jaw was sore. I don't know why they called it hawaiian flavour. It tasted like vomit to me.

...

We'd go to church every Sunday. Dad said the church had been good to us. They'd been the ones who'd put us up when we arrived - in the caravan behind the church, beside the pastor's house.

We got baptised in that church. You had to get baptised before you could speak in tongues. I asked one of the girls at Sunday School how she spoke in tongues. She said it was a secret, and you would only know how to do it when the Holy Spirit was in you. She said it was a special language to speak to God. When they spoke in tongues in the middle of service everyone spoke at once. I wondered how God could work out and understand what everyone was saying.

When we got baptised we had to wear white robes and eveyone sang. The most amazing thing was, when we walked in, the floor opened up and inside was this white pool with water that came up to your waist. We went over to the pastor and he bent us over backwards to dunk us into the water. When I came back up all wet and cold I was expecting to feel different. I was expecting to know how to speak in tongues. I just felt the same and at the service next Sunday, when it came time to speak in tongues and everyone said all those strange words, I tried making some up. But it just didn't feel right. The whole thing just seemed like pretending and everyone was joining in.

There was other things like that in church, like when you could go up the front if you were sick or worried about something. Everyone stood in a line and you would wait for the pastor to come over to you. There would always be someone standing behind you, because after the pastor said that the power of the Lord would work through him, with his hand on your forehead, all that power was so strong it would make you fall over and faint. The person behind you would make sure you didn't hurt yourself when you fell on the floor.

My sisters and I wanted to see what it would feel the power of the Lord. We each thought of something that the Lord could help us with and stood in front of the congregation. When it was our turn the pastor pushed really hard on my forehead, but I didn't feel anything. I stood straight and stiff. The pastor  pushed again and said, loudly, "Be Healed!" and pushed again. I didn't feel anything and I didn't want to fall over just because he was pushing me. He pushed one more time, but I just stood straight. The same thing happened with my sisters. The Lord's power did not come down to us.

...

Adelaide III

When I was a little girl I lived in a house with my two sisters and my dad. It was in one of those real poor suburbs, so the rents were cheap. Dad could pay a whole week's rent with a few five dollar bills.

Well, we lived there, and the back part of the house was divided off, and an old drunk man lived there. He didn't come out much, but when he did he was kind of stooped low. He tried to be nice to us and smiled really big, like this, but we didn't speak back. It felt kind of mean, but it also felt like the right thing.

We had a yellow brick house and next door was a wooden house where a real old lady lived. Mrs Bishop. She had chooks. She lived with a really old man. The house was always dark because they didn't open the blinds.

Mrs. Bishop had carpet in her house that was thick, but kind of dirty. Everything was like, dusty. And there were things piled up. Mrs Bishop would let children come over after school. Me and my sisters went, and there'd be about three or four others. They probably went to to our  school, but we didn't know them.  Everyone from round there went to the same school.

When we went over we sat on wooden chairs between piles of other things in this tiny lounge room. Mrs Bishop would give us a drink, and little pamphlets to share between two. The pamphlets would have four pages with a few songs and one story. Sometimes the songs were the same, but the stories were always different. Mrs Bishop would read them out, and we would listen.

...

Dad would leave for work early. Before he left he would lay out the clothes we had to wear on our beds. He would put our breakfast cereal in our bowls and pour the milk on. He was gone by seven when I woke up.

I had to get up first because I was the eldest. I had to make sure my sisters got to school on time. If dad left some change on the table we could catch the bus. Otherwise we'd walk.

My sisters didn't always get up on time. I would eat my breakfast first because I hated how the rice bubbles went soggy and the milk got warm. Sometimes my sisters wouldn't eat their breakfast. They'd chuck it over the fence for Mrs Bishop's chooks.

Mrs Bishop used to come over to give dad bunches of mint. Dad hated mint, but he took it anyway. After she'd gone he'd pull a face and tell us how much he hated mint and chuck it straight in the bin. One time when she came over she told dad she found rice bubbles on her side of the fence.

Dad wasn't happy about that. He made us all sit at the table, so I knew it was going to be bad. I just sat hard and stiff and bit down on my teeth. It didn't take him long to work out whose breakfast it was. I just kept staring at the table when my sisters got the paddling.

...

The school we went to was really big. There was an oval, and grass, and lots of black bitumen. The buildings were big too. With real big windows that looked down at you from everywhere. It was sort of beautiful because they were so old, but it was spooky too. You could have fitted two floors under the ceilings in there. Always made me feel like a lynch mob would be coming any moment to do their business.

The buildings might have been nice but the kids weren't. I never heard fouler words than I heard in that yard. Some things I mightn't understand the meaning of, but I knew what they meant. It was like everything was turned inside out. All those things we hear about in church was upside down there.

Because there was three of us, one dad and no mum we didn't have to pay for much at that school. One day I lost my pen and I felt real bad. The teacher came round and told me to ask at the window by the principal's office. They gave me a brand new one just like that! Not chewed or anything.

They must have known that dad never told us to brush our teeth. There was a portable building where dentists who were still learning used to come a couple of times a week. Whenever I had to walk up that ramp my back felt all icy. I didn't like going there because it always hurt.

Just about every time they'd be drilling. Just like they were drilling for fun to learn about drilling. First you got to see the long needle, then you'd watch them start up that ugly grey bit on the end before they put it in your mouth. I will never forget the time to man drilled so much he drilled out of my tooth and into my gum. Even though he'd given me the needle I felt it.

One time they told me they wouldn't be doing drilling and gave me a fluoride treatment. They had these rubber things they put around your  teeth. The dentist person said it was hawaiian flavoured and would taste nice. He told me to bite down. After a while it hurt and I wanted to stop but I knew I should do what I was told. I bit and bit the whole time even though my jaw was sore. I don't know why they called it hawaiian flavour. It tasted like vomit to me.

...

Adelaide II

When I was a little girl I lived in a house with my two sisters and my dad. It was in one of those real poor suburbs, so the rents were cheap. Dad could pay a whole week's rent with a few five dollar bills.

Well, we lived there, and the back part of the house was divided off, and an old drunk man lived there. He didn't come out much, but when he did he was kind of stooped low. He tried to be nice to us and smiled really big, like this, but we didn't speak back. It felt kind of mean, but it also felt like the right thing.

We had a yellow brick house and next door was a wooden house where a real old lady lived. Mrs Bishop. She had chooks. She lived with a really old man. The house was always dark because they didn't open the blinds.

Mrs. Bishop had carpet in her house that was thick, but kind of dirty. Everything was like, dusty. And there were things piled up. Mrs Bishop would let children come over after school. Me and my sisters went, and there'd be about three or four others. They probably went to to our  school, but we didn't know them.  Everyone from round there went to the same school.

When we went over we sat on wooden chairs between piles of other things in this tiny lounge room. Mrs Bishop would give us a drink, and little pamphlets to share between two. The pamphlets would have four pages with a few songs and one story. Sometimes the songs were the same, but the stories were always different. Mrs Bishop would read them out, and we would listen.

...

Dad would leave for work early. Before he left he would lay out the clothes we had to wear on our beds. He would put our breakfast cereal in our bowls and pour the milk on. He was gone by seven when I woke up.

I had to get up first because I was the eldest. I had to make sure my sisters got to school on time. If dad left some change on the table we could catch the bus. Otherwise we'd walk.

My sisters didn't always get up on time. I would eat my breakfast first because I hated how the rice bubbles went soggy and the milk got warm. Sometimes my sisters wouldn't eat their breakfast. They'd chuck it over the fence for Mrs Bishop's chooks.

Mrs Bishop used to come over to give dad bunches of mint. Dad hated mint, but he took it anyway. After she'd gone he'd pull a face and tell us how much he hated mint and chuck it straight in the bin. One time when she came over she told dad she found rice bubbles on her side of the fence.

Dad wasn't happy about that. He made us all sit at the table, so I knew it was going to be bad. I just sat hard and stiff and bit down on my teeth. It didn't take him long to work out whose breakfast it was. I just kept staring at the table when my sisters got the paddling.

...

Adelaide I

When I was a little girl I lived in a house with my two sisters and my dad. It was in one of those real poor suburbs, so the rents were cheap. Dad could pay a whole week's rent with a few five dollar bills.

Well, we lived there, and the back part of the house was divided off, and an old drunk man lived there. He didn't come out much, but when he did he was kind of stooped low. He tried to be nice to us and smiled really big, like this, but we didn't speak back. It felt kind of mean, but it also felt like the right thing.

We had a yellow brick house and next door was a wooden house where a real old lady lived. Mrs Bishop. She had chooks. She lived with a really old man. The house was always dark because they didn't open the blinds.

Mrs. Bishop had carpet in her house that was thick, but kind of dirty. Everything was like, dusty. And there were things piled up. Mrs Bishop would let children come over after school. Me and my sisters went, and there'd be about three or four others. They probably went to to our  school, but we didn't know them.  Everyone from round there went to the same school.

When we went over we sat on wooden chairs between piles of other things in this tiny lounge room. Mrs Bishop would give us a drink, and little pamphlets to share between two. The pamphlets would have four pages with a few songs and one story. Sometimes the songs were the same, but the stories were always different. Mrs Bishop would read them out, and we would listen.

...