Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [19]
‘Now, you come inside and see.’
It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dimness. The mother-of-pearl glowed softly, seeming to have its own inner light. The pearl stars set in the blue ceiling of the sanctuary glittered in shafts of light that angled through the thick stained-glass windows.
‘Bishop Gibney and the Trappist Brothers started here in the early 1890s, in a primitive bush dwelling. This church was built during the First World War. The mud bricks were made here but there was no mortar so the missionaries and the blacks brought shells from the beach in billy carts and burned them with layers of wood to make a white lime. Brother Droste did the decoration with mother-of-pearl and sea shells. See, there at the top of the main altar is the big mother-of-pearl star. Fit for any cathedral,’ said Brother William proudly. He’d told the story to visitors so many times before that the telling now sounded almost like a recording.
‘What are the blue stones in the pattern?’ asked Lily.
‘That’s operculum, a little lid or cover which comes from shellfish. And here, set into the pillars are broken shells. They look like opal shining with all the colours of the rainbow, eh?’
‘This must have seemed a long way from the war,’ said Lily. ‘It’s still a remote area.’
‘It was more active in the old days. We sold timber to build the luggers. And it took a lot of effort to persuade the Aborigines to come in from the wilderness and to get their children to attend the school. Soon enough there was a good cattle farm. Now they run it all themselves.’ Brother William looked nostalgic. ‘The first Pallottine priests and brothers had much to do. I have little to do now. I am seeing out my days, observing Sunday services, talking to the visitors who sometimes come.’
‘Where is your home, don’t you want to go home?’
‘I have no family left in Munich. I will be buried here. Some brothers returned but some are buried here also. They didn’t all die of old age—there were some accidents,’ he said wryly. He gave Lily a look, then asked, ‘You are interested?’
‘Yes. I am.’
‘I have a book. It is a journal that one of the Brothers wrote about the early days of the mission. It was added to over the years and printed by some later Brothers. Perhaps you will find it of interest.’
Lily waited outside in the morning sun while Brother William rummaged in a suitcase under his bed in the simple room he called home that was attached to the community kitchen and social room. She could hear a woman cooking and admonishing two small children. One of the children came outside letting the screen door bang behind him, but stopped shyly when he saw Lily.
‘Hello. How are you, young man?’
‘Orright,’ he said with a flash of white teeth against dark skin, then fled inside, giggling. His mother appeared at the screen door and smiled at the strange woman.
‘You need something?’ she asked. ‘There’s a store over the way, they should be open by now.’
‘No, it’s all right thanks, I’m waiting for Brother William. He’s getting something for me.’
‘I’m making his breakfast, tell him it’s nearly ready. Would you like some? You must’ve started out early.’
‘I’d love some.’ Lily said and followed her inside.
Over their toast smothered in mashed tinned herrings, Brother William told Lily how life at the mission had changed. In the early days it had been like a small European village with over forty buildings including a convent for the sisters, separate schools, dormitories and dining rooms for boys and girls, a bakehouse and slaughterhouse, laundry, sheds, a stable for the goats, storehouse, a tannery, and dwellings for the missionaries, stockmen, servants and the Aboriginal families who all worked about the mission. On the outskirts was a camp of ‘bush blacks’ near to where the road to Broome was hacked out of the scrub and sandy soil by Brother Droste in 1921.
Across the table he showed her faded photographs of barefoot children dressed in simple smocks, pants and shirts. Soft but wary eyes stared from scrubbed faces as they stood obediently by the formally