Dallas.
My parents are divorced and it’s been this way ever since I can remember. I wouldn’t have it any other way. They are distinctly different people and their time together was purely for the creation of me; they do not belong together. I am not oblivious to the fact that either of my parents had previous lovers before one another and if anything am curious of their stories. However it is one particular story of my father’s relationship with a woman namedDallasthat sparked the beginning of this blog.
To set the scene it is 1984, amongst the pristine canopy of tropical north Queensland. Dad is a river guide. The days are long and the money is short. He lives in a flat far too small for the amount of people residing within it. Their days were repetitive but never boring. He and the other guides would wake with the sun to pack their bus, pick up their customers and make their way to the TullyRiver. The forgiving structure of the rafts would fly down the fast rapids, its passengers not feeling so much as a bump as they thrash about amongst the white water. The untamed river would throw around its thrill seekers like an aggravated dog would an intruder. Once through the thick of it a head count was done and everyone is back on the bus to Cairns. The restaurants would be open and waiting for the guides returning home at 9pm. They would congregate at the usual places each bringing a couple of their customers and meeting with their girlfriends and lovers. Their exhausted bodies still had a night of drink and fooling around ahead of them, wrapped up in debauchery. It was at this time that “river guide groupies” would come out to play. These were the on and off lovers of the guides working and living with the clan. The boys called them “River Moles”. It was as a river mole that Dallaswalked into Dad’s life for the first time. She was a customer of one of the other guides who she moved in with however as time passed her peculiar ways unfolded. Dad soon found himself in a relationship with this beautifully odd woman. They say marriage drives you mad and Dallasproved that theory true. She was previously married and her and her husband had a child together. It was he, along with her parents, which put her in a mental institute. If this wasn’t warning enough for what my Father had gotten himself into she told him of her nights in the institute. She would break out of her room window, scale the side of the building gripping the down pipe and spend the moonlit evenings on the roof of the hospital. After she was released she was forever unsettled. Constantly trying to “sort out her head” and “find herself” she thought that Dad was the man to be with for awhile while she did this. “She wasn’t in love with me and I wasn’t in love with her. She wasn’t really my girlfriend, she wasn’t really anyone’s. I was just good to her.” Restless with her life in Cairns she told Dad she bought a plane ticket to Rockhampton where she would stay with her uncle for a little while. Dad said “Ok, you go and I’ll take my time to follow you down on the bike and meet you there.” And so they were staying with her uncle while he helpedDallas work through some things with her past. In thisDallas said she no longer needed Dad’s help. Unharmed by this Dad complied; packed up his things and got back on his bike. He and Dallas said their goodbyes knowing this was the end for them and Dad headed down to Gayndah to stay with his brother.
A month later, still living with my Uncle Doug and his wife Helen, Dad received a call from Dallas. Surprised they were once again in contact Dallasexplained she wanted to do some “solo soul searching” on FraserIsland. “I said yeah ok, come on down and we’ll get you over there and set you up with some gear.” She stayed a few short days with Dad at Uncle Doug and Aunty Helen’s before Dad drove her to Harvey Bay and they once again shared their last goodbye. Again time passed and again Dad received a call from Dallas. She was returning. Dad met with her and helped her make her way back to her uncle’s. This was the last he saw of Dallas for many months. In the time that passed Dad had met my mother for the first time, been rejected by my mother for the first time and married and divorced to another woman again, for the first time. After all this, my Father made his way up to Yeppoon to live with a close friend by the name of Cam. On his journey north he decided to stop in and visit Dallas one more time, assuming she was still staying at her uncles. He had hardly knocked on the door when she opened it, standing in the doorway with a strange look on her face before letting him inside. They awkwardly stood in the kitchen for a while chatting. Out of habit in these circumstances Dad paced the room. He edged along the centred table and across to the bench, along the cabinet and to the window sill. Trying to look at anything but Dallas he looked down out the window. His eyes found the bent finger tips of human hands gripping the edge of the window. Dad looked up at a horrified Dallas for a moment out of confusion before peering further out the window to find a man hanging from the second story of the house. Dallas had seen my father pull up and afraid of being sprung by her “boyfriend” while she was with her lover told the man to quickly escape out the window. Dad stood in kitchen and laughed. And laughed. And laughed. He thought this was the funniest thing he had ever seen. This lightened the mood and the others joined in and the man climbed back in the window. Dallas repeatedly apologised to Dad who was confused as to how she thought they were still an item. “That’s just how strange and awkward Dallas was. She was just so vague. I just kept telling her it was ok, it was ok. The man’s name was Sam and he was really nice!” After more, now well rehearsed, goodbyes Dad left to continue his journey.
After living with Camfor a while Dad had met yet another woman who was battered from a broken down relationship and asked my Father as a friend and good comfort to move in with her to a house in Yeppoon. They lived together not long and Dad quickly fell in love with her. But she was already damaged goods. She needed to escape and told Dad she was to leave for London and knew of a friend of a friend looking for a house mate who could move in to share the rent. Dad agreed and inquired of the friend of a friend’s name, “Sam.” she said. A smile broke out across Dad’s face as he realised he had already met Sam. It was Dallas’s Sam. He and Dallas had been married and divorced and they had had a son together named “Krishna”. Sam and my Father became thick as thieves. “We would sit on the veranda of this pink house and Sam would play the guitar. Not that he could do it very well but he had the whole shot-glass-on-his-finger thing going on so it seemed like he could. We would sing for hours.” It was while Dad was living with Sam that he got together with Mum and she and my brother would come and stay with them. Sam’s son Krishna would often stay for visits. “I remember sailing along on a caper cat and Sam was holding onto Krishna. He was holding onto his son so tight and he was so proud. I felt so connected to Dallas, like she was still a huge part of my life even though I hadn’t seen her for years.”
In 1991 my Mother and Father got married and Sam was one of Dad’s groomsmen in the bridal party. Not long after their wedding they left for Scotlandand that was the last contact Dad had with Sam. Three years later after rushing home for my Grumpa Tom’s passing (Dad’s Dad), I was born. Another seven years passed and one thing led to another and we moved up to Cairns. Within the first week of our arrival, one Sunday we ventured to “Rusty’s Markets”. “For as long as I can remember there has been that caravan there selling fresh juices. A lot of friends have worked there but never for very long. Your mother weaved through the crowd to buy you a juice and, as I always did, I followed with you in my hand. I looked up and behind the stand was a woman asking if she could help anyone, it was none other than Dallas. We looked at each other and smiled. She looked down at you still in my hand and her smile grew even larger. We just smiled and said nothing. We both knew we were in each others past and there was nowhere to go from here. We nodded at one another and you dragged me off to look at books. And that was the last of Dallas.”
