Me and Bondy

ThirroulSource: Thirroul Beach

Hey, Hung here, Look my last story was about playing cricket in the back yard at mums. This is about a mate or two I made after that. For the record most of this is true, some is pure bullshit and some is artistic licence. All the names have been changed to protect the infertile or what ever.
It was my job to go to the Halfway shop for Mum whenever she ran out of anything. I mean this was 1968 and as consumers we wanted goods, well that’s what Ma would say. Anyhoo, I’d go to the Halfway shop for Ma and Pa whenever they wanted things like sugar, butter, cigarettes, blow up dollies well you know, the Halfway shop had one of everything.
One day Mum sent to he shop about four times. The kid who lived next door to the Halfway said “Hey mate, you got the runs or what”. Well I didn’t know what he meant but he was playing cricket by himself by throwing the ball against a wall and then hitting it with the bat.
“No mate” I said “Just getting stuff for Ma for our tea” I replied.
“Well, wanna a game of cricket? “ said this kid “Tomorrow down the park? Nine o’clock”
So it happened. The next morning , me and this kid turned up at the local park for a game of cricket.
I said “ Mate, before we start, I’m from the country, my dad was born overseas and worst of all I’m catholic”
“ No worries mate. I’m from Thirroul” Instantly we were mates.
I said “My names Hung” I spurted. He said in reply “ Bondy”
I enquired “What’s your first name?”
“Don’t worry about it Hung, no one ever refers to me by it so just call me Bondy”
The Halfway shop was owned by Mr and Mrs Threw or as we eventually got to know them George and Mildred. They were wonderful people and came from London. George was ex Royal Navy and was doing well until the Germans decided to blow the shit out of his boat. Many died but George survived but with many injuries and much later he and Mildred emigrated to Australia. They landed in this hell hole called Sydney. One day, on a drive, they found Austinmer and a shop for sale and they brought it.
George and Mildred were fantastic and really looked after me and Bondy. We would stack shelves and fridges for them for a few bob. Mildred had a full time job and George’s injuries prevented him from doing lots of physical stuff so me and Bondy did it for him. Mildred always finished early and when she got home George would take the dog for a walk past the Headlands Hotel and well, being thirsty would drop in for a couple of beers and then bring a few home as you do.
One day Bondy said “C’mon Hung lets smoke, men smoke, George smokes, lets smoke”. So one day after getting our wages from George, me and Bondy decided to go and get some smokes. We caught the bus to Thirroul, over Kennedy’s Hill on a Dion’s bus from Moore Street for 2 cents. The corner shop sold packet’s of Viscount 10’s for our “Dad’s” for 15 cents. We had two bob each so we was rich.
We walked down McCauley Street. Bondy pointed out a house called “Wyewurk”
“Famous house is that Hung” said Bondy “Some pommy poofter lived there”
“What’s a poofter Bondy?” I asked innocently
Bondy stared to turn red, breathing hard and making a grunting sound. Now Bondy was big, mean looking and about three times my size. Kids would cross the road rather than deal with Bondy however the whole time I knew him he did not hurt a soul.
“I don’t know what a bloody poofter is Hung but don’t say anything to your Ma and Pa because when I did I had the crap belted out of me so it must be bad, I just heard one of the big boys say it”
We walked in silence down Bath Street and dropped into the public baths at Thirroul. The Sydneysiders that were too scared to swim in the ocean swam here. We just watched them for a while from outside the fence.
Me and Bondy then went to the northern end of Thirroul beach, out of the wind, to light up our smokes. We didn’t inhale as it made us sick but we were men and men smoked. This bloke came along the shore. He had a sack and would forage around the rocks for squid and shell fish.
“Hey Hung” said Bondy “Here comes the old dagoe” Bondy smirked.
“Hey boys” said the old dagoe “ Smoking ain’t no good for you young fellas” he said
I felt guilty as. This fella had been going up and down the coast for years, hardly speaking to anyone. “Hey mate, what’s your name? “ I called.
“George, mate” he replied. From then on we always sung out hey George and he would reply hey boys. Me and Bondy had long given up smoking when one day George said “Boys, come up and see my house”. We followed George up a goat track to this beautiful house, painted blue and white, overlooking the ocean. We met Mrs George, Effie, who gave us soft drink she made from lemons and pastry with honey and nuts. It was all good.
“You boys better get going to beat the tide” George said “And come up any time you want”
“Thanks George, we will” I replied as me and Bondy headed down the goat track back to the beach.
Each weekend after that me and Bondy would head to George and Effie’s house after buying a few things in the main street of Thirroul usually toy cars that we both decided to collect. One day when we got to George’s house something was different. The house was locked up and all the furniture was gone from the house. A note was taped to the door,
“Boys, George has passed away and I have moved to Marrickville to live with my family. Thanks for you infectious company and I love you both, Effie”
We walked home in total silence. This time we went via the highway over Kennedy’s Hill past Austinmer beach. As we got to the Halfway shop Bondy turned and said “Hung, there is something I have to tell you” Bondy said in a deep tone and a sad face “ I’m moving to Bulli”.
Well I never saw Bondy again and George and Effie gone this life thingy was a funny game.
The following week school holidays started. I went down to the Halfway shop and stacked some shelves, replenished the fridges and put out the papers. Mr Threw went to give me some money but I asked for a pie and a drink instead. The shop had a table and chairs at the front and I went and sat down to eat my pie when this strange kid came in the shop. He got a pie and drink and came and sat next to me.
“You from around here?” he asked.
“Yeah mate just up the road” I nodded in the direction of where I lived.
“Just moved in mate, the names Jono, do you like cricket?”

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12 thoughts on “Me and Bondy

  1. Mrs A managed was sent a Facebook thingy from one of her school friends in the West. She has barely seen anyone from her school days. she commented how old they all looked. I reminded her she wasn’t exactly 18 herself anymore.

    BTW hung had Rex started his pie cart by this time or was that later.


    1. I don’t recall any pie carts around the place Algy and Tutu and I left in 1981. We lived in Woonona prior to leaving and hardly went out to Austy.


      1. I think it must have been after Rex got out of jail and well after you left then. The pie cart may have been a bit further up the coast at the ‘Burgh. Just checked it was and Ice cream and hot dog cart at Bald Hill


      2. Yes there was a cart up there. Bald Hill over looks Stanwell Park and it’s where they fly kites, they jump off there.


  2. Good one Hung. Is that why Anzac biscuits are called brownies or have I got that mixed up with boy scouts or somefing?
    I remember having to leave my friends back years ago. When I went back and caught up with them, they switched on the telly. It must have been me that was boring or perhaps we all had changed!


    1. Gez, I have gone back a few times in life and it ain’t good. We all change although having said that it may have been a rerun of Lassie.


  3. Hung, great story, yes the vicissitudes of this thing we call ‘life’.

    I allowed myself to drift away from my childhood friend, when I was about eighteen. We reconnected about three years ago, and the similarities were amazing, from our interest in astronomy, down to having the same brands of household items.

    Brownie is probably still out there.


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