Lena
I missed Lena! I didn’t think I would. I called her from call boxes often. Whilst I still went dancing, I couldn’t shift this girl from my thoughts. I didn’t take others home nor ask them on dates.
Lena reappeared on my scene. So much happiness bubbled up inside me. My lass was back! Her aunt and uncle took her in. Luckily for us, her aunt didn’t believe in an eleven o’clock curfew.
I quickly learnt that Lena was a determined lass. She could be feisty when circumstances didn’t fall her way. In little time at all, she decided I’d be her man for ‘keeps’. I wasn’t so sure. I couldn’t understand why other than for my Elvis like looks and fancy feet. I didn’t earn enough to court her properly. She kindly paid for her ticket when we saw a movie. She earnt more than me yet was two years younger. This sorely hurt my ego. She worked as an accounting machinist at the State Government’s Mines Department.
Despite my misgivings, Lena and I were equally pegged. We both came from the country; she from a small spit on the map a half day’s drive north of Brisbane. Our families were humble and poor. Her parents owned a small general store and ran the local telephone exchange. They worked from dawn to evening. Like me, despite her circumstances, she had completed junior high school. I figured out fast she was smart too. However, there was one big difference between us. She had been blessed with a happy childhood. Her parents loved each other, she and her siblings.
Lena invited me home to meet her parents. I didn’t realise how earnest her aspirations were. Once a month, she and her sister caught the train after work Friday to Isis Junction then connected with a rail motor to Childers. They arrived at 8am Saturday morning when they were collected by their father. Then, on Sunday, their parents drove them about half way back to Cooroy where they met the train to Brisbane. The trip hardly seemed worth the effort. So, one long weekend, I decided to go along for the train ride. Lena was going home alone this time. I’d have her attention for the whole weekend! I had met other girls’ parents before yet had remained fancy free.
I liked Lena’s parents immediately. Despite her aspirations, they didn’t treat me as anything but a friend. They certainly didn’t give me the ‘third degree’. Nor did they encroach on Lena’s and my ‘space’. They were too busy serving customers in the shop and connecting calls on the telephone exchange. To them, I appeared to be a clean cut, well spoken young man with polite manners. I didn’t drink, swear or smoke. I certainly didn’t allude to my dysfunctional family.
Lena’s mother struck me as being a genuine lady not a pretend one like my mother. She clearly had been educated from the way she presented herself. Lena’s father hadn’t had the same advantage in life. However, he was of generous spirit and humour. I noted they both worked hard and as a team, unlike my parents. I also saw that they were the backbone of their small community. Also, unlike my home, their house and shop were spotlessly clean and well run. Lena’s mother prepared nicely presented, tasty meals. My mother slopped whatever on a plate. Meals were civilised affairs. Everybody ate together and engaged in polite conversation. On the Sunday, Lena’s mother packed a picnic. Her father then drove us all in his new Holden FB station wagon to the beach at Pialba.  It was a real family outing where everybody, including Lena’s two younger siblings, enjoyed being together. This was an entirely new experience for me as were the delectable delights spread on the picnic rug to eat.
I accompanied Lena home a few more times. I was always made welcome. Though one trip, Lena and I very nearly went to heaven on route. The trip would become one of my scariest memories. The Booyal publican offered Lena and I a lift from Brisbane. That meant we’d arrive home earlier on Friday evening. Well, the publican was blind drunk when he collected us. On the way, he even stopped to tank up some more. To our horror, the man insisted on driving at least one hundred and fifty kilometres an hour on the poorly constructed country roads. We gripped the dash of his Ford Biscayne. We had no seat beats. When the Ford hit the old wooden bridges at speed, it jack knifed sideways and slid across them. I volunteered multiple times that I could drive but to no avail.  We were both nauseous with fear on arrival in Booyal. Never again, I said to Lena!
By the time Lena turned seventeen and I nineteen, she had grown serious about my long term intentions towards her. It was 1962. She thought we should marry but hadn’t thought about what our future together would be. I however did. My future didn’t hold much promise. My job was soulless. I lacked direction and purpose. I had nothing to share with her! Neither could my wage support both of us. Yet, by law, Lena would lose her public service job on marriage. She made me happy; my job and poverty didn’t! So, whilst she was my girl; I wasn’t keen to make her my wife. To me, our relationship was great as it was. We had lots of fun together and no responsibilities.  To me, marriage meant yelling at and arguing with each other, as my parents did, usually about money. I didn’t want that to be us. I couldn’t grasp that married people could be happy together.
Neither did I comprehend how Lena felt about her life and prospects. She didn’t admit that she lacked purpose too. Society, government and families expected young women to marry. That was their purpose. Unless, they were born into wealth, they had no alternative. Their intelligence was ignored. In Lena’s case, her parents could only afford to send her elder sister to teachers’ college. She felt transitory. Lena boarded with relatives as she had done mostly since her early teens. Whilst she liked the aunt and uncle she lived with now, her uncle was a war damaged man, both physically and psychologically. To add to this, Lena wasn’t a city girl. Yet, if she did return home to Booyal, she’d marry a farm labourer. She really didn’t like rough working hands nor the thought of scrubbing filthy clothes.
Eventually, my reticence led to us having a huge argument over the telephone, one Saturday. I said I wasn’t ready to think about marriage. Lena interpreted that statement to mean I didn’t care for her. To make the situation worse, I stood reeling in a public call box, publicly humiliated. I felt emotionally shredded.  After some hours of aimless emotional turmoil, I jumped in my car and drove into Brisbane to see her. I thought we could resolve our dilemma.  Her aunt met me with tears in her eyes. This lady really liked me. She explained that Lena had packed up her things and left with her parents twenty minutes before. I jumped back in my car and sped after them. An hour later, I caught them at Caboolture. I flashed my lights at them. Since there were only a few vehicles on the road, her father knew the vehicle behind was me thus stopped. By the side of the road, I pleaded my case. Lena’s parents understood my position and couldn’t see what Lena’s rush was. They had married when Lena’s mother was twenty-three and her father thirty-five. They were common sense people. Whilst I thought my future looked glum, they thought it was better than that of a farm labourer’s. I at least earned a steady wage; that kept hunger away. They reasoned with Lena and decided she should go home with them.
Six weeks later, Lena returned with her younger sister in tow. Her elder sister was the serious one; the younger sister was the fun one. They rented a small flat. Finally, Lena had her own place, her space and her rules. She liked this independence. She had a better sense of herself and had realised she had the ability to determine where her life led. She began, with her elder sister, to plan a long trip travelling through Australia’s southern states. Our relationship continued but at a slower pace.
At the time, we were two naïve kids on the cusp of adulthood where society and its norms were beginning to change around us.
