Sunburnt Home - an Australian-Sri Lankan novel

Chapter 25 : "Why my son didn't have a fair go?"

By Sunil GOVINNAGE

Jayadeva was late, driving Aslea to the Claremont cricket ground, and despite the silence growing inside the car, he felt his son was in stress on their way to the ground. Jayadeva was not sure whether it was due to leaving home late, or his son’s hesitation of the batting order as he was unsure of his position in the team.

Last evening, Asela came to Jayadeva’s study and said, “Dad, if they send me to open the batting, I’ll somehow other play carefully, and make at least a half a century.”

‘Why not a century, Putha?” Jayadeva pat on his son’s head affectionately.

“It’s all depends on luck, Dad! But I’ll do my best,” Asela replied victoriously.

As Asela didn’t break the silence, Jayadeva wondered why his son’s positive attitude had diminished this morning.

He found a spot and parked his old Ford Laser among the luxury cars owned by other parents. Asela took his bats and cricket gloves and ran towards his team mates who have already started their warm up sessions in the middle of the ground. As he ran, Asela said: “Dad leave my pads and other gear in the coach’s room, and please come on time to pick me up!”

Jayadeva carried the heavy bag silently, and as he reached the pavilion, he was greeted by Tracy, the wife of the coach.

“Oh Jay, you are already late, and we were wondering whether Sam was coming to play or not today. He is already late for the warm up session,” she said authoritatively.

“I had to do a few errands in the morning, Tracey. It’s not my son’s fault and he was ready from the time he got up. I’m sorry, and we were only ten minutes late! I’ve to rush to Freo to buy some fish. Once I drop them home, I’ll come back soon to see how our boys would play the game. Do you want me to bring some oranges for boys?”

“No thanks, we have everything. Come for a glass of red wine after the match, and don’t get late, okay!”

Jayadeva, walked back to the car and drove through a back road until he reached the Stirling Highway that stretched towards Fremantle between the Swan River on the left, and the Indian Ocean on the right.

The road sprawled like a long dead snake through a narrow transport passage that linked Perth with the port city of Fremantle that greeted the calm waters of the Mute Indian Ocean.

*****

Jayadeva found a parking spot on the lower parking bay areas in the city car park building which situated adjacent to the market, and he rushed to the market as a tired runner trying to finish a race.

There were a large number of buyers clogging the fish stall, and the majority of them were Chinese people who were buying large quantities of fish and packing them in large containers filled with ice. Then only Jayadeva realised that in haste, he had left the cooler bag at home. When he got his place in the long queue, he realised that all the slices of Albacore fish had been sold out. Only two large uncut fish were available that he saw as two small dead bodies lying in a morgue.

“I want five or six slices of Albacore. Don’t you have any?”

“No, no more cut fish now! If you want, you can take this whole fish, only four kilos.” The fish vendor said looking at the next person behind Jayadeva.

“Alright, can you please scale and cut this small fish for me?”

The fish vendor grabbed the money from Jayadeva, and then took the fish to the back of the stall for scaling and cleaning.

“Please don’t throw the fish head away!” Jayadeva demanded loudly.

In a few minutes, the fish slices were delivered, and Jayadeva said, “can you please put some ice on top. I forgot to bring my cooler bag.”

*****

Jayadeva drove slowly towards Nedlands, and as soon as he passed the Eric Street traffic lights in Cottesloe, the car made a creaking noise and stalled.

Having tried to start the car several times without a success, he pushed the vehicle to the side of the road, and looked for a public telephone booth to contact the RAC.

The cars passed both ways, as if he didn’t exist in the world.

Having walked a short distance towards the Claremont town, he found a public phone and telephoned the RAC.

“Oh there is a delay of at least forty five minutes,” the receptionist at the call center replied impolitely.

“Oh please help me, I’ve some fish in the car and I’ve to pick up my son from the Claremont playground soon. Pleeeeeeeese help me.” Jayadeva said helplessly.

He walked back to the car and opened the bonnet, and saw the radiator gushing out hot steams, and he also saw a broken engine belt.

In the back seat, the ice was melting and Jayadeva watched it helplessly.

Finally, the RAC mechanic arrived and it took him nearly 20 minutes to replace the engine belt and to refill the radiator with fresh coolant.

It was almost 11 o’clock when Jayadeva reached home, and he felt a rotting smell coming out from the fish bag which was leaking melted ice through numerous holes.

He threw the fish into the freezer, washed his hands, drank a big glass of water and drove fast towards the cricket ground ignoring the screech noises coming from the engine continuously. It was almost twenty to mid day, and he felt the hot Australian sun following his car like a prey.

As soon as Jayadeva reached the pavilion, he saw Asela sitting on a chair alone with his bat in his hands. Jayadeva immediately felt that something was wrong. He felt his blood pulsating rapidly like his thoughts, and a sharp acute pain ran through his chest cavity.

The coach and a couple parents were sipping wine on the other corner, and there were laughing gloriously and enjoying the alcohol and finger food.

“Hey, Jay, come and have a drink with us,” a parent who knew him called, but he went to join Asela who was watching his team fielding.

As soon as he saw Asela, Jayadeva knew there was something wrong.

“What’s wrong with you Putha? Why are you not fielding with rest of the team? Did you feel sick? Are you okay?”

Aslea kept his silence for a few seconds and said,

“Dad they dropped me from the team today, and wanted me to stay behind. They already got the players finalised before we arrived.”

“You can go and field with the rest of the team at least for a session, and this is not a test match,” said Jayadeva controlling his anger.

‘It’s up to the coach Dad! I asked him, but he wanted me to sit and wait until someone gets hurt for me to go as the substitute. So I’ve been waiting all day.” Aslea started sobbing and Jayadeva’s heart melted as the ice in the bag with fish melted an hour ago.

Jayadeva walked to the other side of the pavilion and approached the coach who was staying with other happy parents.

“Hay Mr Jay, the assistant coach addressed him. “Would you like to join us for a drink? It’s on us, just for you, and your son!”

“No thanks, Jayadeva said cautiously. Could I have a word in private, Gary?” Jayadeva addressed the head coach. He left his wine glass and approached Jayadeva.

“What can I do for you Mr Gum-mage?”

“Why is that my son sitting there whole day, and not playing. Why couldn’t you give him a chance to play?”

“Look Mate, this is the semi-final game, and we have twelve players, and the selection committee had to take a decision! As you know, your son is not a great fielder, although his batting is okay. If we win this game, I’ll try and slot him into a session or two next week.”

Jayadeva felt as if his blood was rushing through his veins like a rocket, speeding against the gravitation forces to reach the outer space.

“Why do you say that you would ‘try and slot him’ into the team next week, and he is in the team, isn’t he? This is not a test match to have a selection committee! Give my son a ‘Fair Go’ though his not white like the rest of the team.”

“Look Jay, you can’t question me on the selection of players, okay? It’s our decision and it’ll stand as it is!”

The coach returned and walked towards his group.

Jayadeva couldn’t control his anger.

“You bloody basterds. Para Ballo..!” He switched into his native language and shouted at the coach. The rest of the parents watched Jayadeva as if he was a clown delivering wrong dialogues at a wrong play.

Asela who heard the verbal battle between his father and the coach approached him with his cricket bag and said: “Dad, please don’t shout and say kunu harupa! You are running my chances.”

Jayadeva, saw tears of his son, and with his own anger and sad tears, he saw Asela as a blurring image.

They both walked slowly between the boundary of the cricket ground and the foot path leading to the parking area.

Jayadeva wanted to tell his son why there are no black or brown cricketers playing for clubs or the Australian cricket team for decades.

They walked silently towards the car, and Jayadeva carried the heavy bag which contained Asela’s unused cricket bat and other equipment.

Glossary of Terms

Freo- A shortened version for the port city town of Fremantle.

Albacore (fish) - Thunnus alalunga, is a type of tuna fish and very similar to Thora fish.

RAC - Royal Automobile Club. A private company helping motorists in trouble.

Para ballo- Sinhala slang meaning stray dogs, a derogatory phrase.

Kunu harapa – Sinhala slang meaning filthy words.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

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