Black Angels???Red Blood Read Free

straight up to Tim and shook his hand. His manner of dress was scruffy and he spoke broken English, but his knowledge of law, both black and white, endeared him to many different kinds of people. They made small talk and agreed to meet at Eveleigh Street later on after the festival.
    Tim sat and listened to some Country and Western, andthen the old Lawman came out in full dress and played didgeridoo and sang some songs in his native tongue.
    After the music finished, Tim strolled back towards the block, walking past the spots where all the street Koories sat and drank. He knew some of them from a decade ago, and he recognised Henry, who motioned to him to come over. They shook hands and Henry introduced him to his fellow drinkers and, as usual, they put the bite on Tim, who obliged by giving them a five-dollar note and some change. He passed Henry a joint as he was leaving and they all said “thanks”.

CHAPTER THREE
ANOTHER JOB TO DO
    The old Lawman hadn’t seen Sylvia for ten years and was hoping that she’d still be in Sydney. She was like his niece and he always made sure to visit her when he was in the city. She would be twenty-five now and he wondered if she had a man or kids. The last time he heard, she was doing an art course and concentrating on painting. He thought about the young fella Tim and compared him with Sylvia and came up with the view that they came from opposite ends of the spectrum. Tim looked much better than he did ten years ago and had gotten over his street habits. He wondered how much Tim had learnt in the past decade and hoped he had studied hard and got his preparation right so that he wouldn’t have to go through the process again.
    The old Lawman had passed through Sydney for nearly forty years and had secretly initiated dozens of Aborigines in Redfern. He was a powerful feather-foot and raised Black assassins. He knew that Tim was the best in his field. Retirement for him wasn’t far off.
    He got the feeling that Redfern had changed. There was much more community activity and he could see that the despair was losing its grip. It made him feel like singing, sohe pulled out his guitar and began to play a land rights song. Within moments he was surrounded by kids and adults curious as to what this old stranger was singing about in their community.
    He walked up and down the streets talking to people and listening to whatever they wanted to share. He saw some little ones with runny noses and pulled out some gum leaves and told one of the mothers to give them to the children to chew on. They were amazed to learn that the gum trees growing in the streets could be used for colds and flus. To those that caught his eye he told a little secret in the hope that they would yearn for more knowledge of their dynamic culture.
    The old man wanted to get off his feet and have a cup of tea, so he made his way to Molly’s house in Caroline Street and was warmly welcomed. Molly was Sylvia’s aunty and he asked after Sylvia.
    â€œSylvia’s acting now and she’s on a few committees as well. I think she wants to get out. Two tribes are fighting each other and she’s the meat in the sandwich.”
    â€œI won’t ask which tribes, but I bet I know who they are,” says the old man wryly.
    â€œThey’re all so stupid. Some of the horrible things I’ve heard—I’ll be glad when Sylvia gets out,” Molly said, shaking her head.
    â€œTwo tribes fighting. Spear come this way, nulla nulla this way.” The old man slaps his hand and points in a far-off direction, saying, “Blackfella go that way.” They both laugh.
    â€œI’ll give you her address and you can go and see her and try and talk some sense into her.” Molly wrote out the address and handed it to him.
    â€œI’m staying down at Alice’s place at the moment,” hesaid, then added, “but you know me—here, there, everywhere.”
    â€œJust make sure