Black Angels???Red Blood by Steven McCarthy Page B

to come back for something. Sydney hasn’t got too much to offer single black males.”
    â€œI’m a single black female. I do alright.”
    â€œYeah, black females seem to have created a market for themselves in this city. Must have to do with how lazy they are,” joked Tim.
    They were interrupted by Jeannie who stumbled out of her bedroom and into the bathroom followed by her partner. Now that Jeannie was up, Sylvia put a Tiddas tape on and turned it up, singing along with it.
    Jeannie and her friend, whom she introduced as Hank, claimed their space in the kitchen and began to make a late breakfast. Sylvia and Jeannie went ten to the dozen, laughing and gossiping, while Hank and Tim exchanged backgrounds. Hank came from Moree and, like Tim, was a member of the Gumilaroi Nation. Tim pulled out some pot and they sat in the lounge room and started to roll a joint. No better time than now to test the water with Sylvia, he thought.
    Jeannie came into the lounge with a cup of tea for Hank. “Syl,” Jeannie called out, “look at these mongrels.”
    â€œCouldn’t wait, hey!” Sylvia mockingly admonished Tim.
    â€œHe’s my countryman,” said Hank.
    â€œThe last time I heard that, I didn’t see my man for six months,” joked Jeannie.
    â€œI’ve been in the bush for weeks without a smoke. This fella’s grandmother and my grandfather were brother and sister. Who better to break the drought with?” Hank said, while making a mix. Tim took an immediate liking to Hank.
    â€œWell, there is a bit of a connection there,” said Jeannie innocently and cleaned down the coffee table. Tim felt some warmth coming from Jeannie. He got the feeling she liked Hank. They sat and had coffee and tea and talked for an hour or so. Then the girls kicked the boys out so they could do their domestic chores. Tim and Hank arranged to meet them after Sylvia’s show at the theatre.
    Tim and Hank made their way back to Redfern. Tim felt a sort of bond between them and he asked Hank to come back to Charlie’s. Hank okayed the suggestion and they wound up at Charlie’s. Charlie was back to selling yarndi, Tim guessed, as they passed a couple of Koories leaving as they entered. Tim introduced Hank to Charlie and gave him some background.
    â€œAnother Gumilaroi. I’m Gumilaroi, too,” Charlie said to Hank, and before long they were acting like long lost brothers.
    â€œYou sell yarndi?” asked Hank. “What have you got?”
    â€œTwenties, fifties, hundreds and ounces,” replied Charlie.
    As Hank handed over fifty, Tim asked, “Can you afford that, brother?”
    â€œYeah, I never come to Sydney without money. Never gethome. The last time I came down without a way to get home, I was stuck here for three months on the grog.”
    Hank went off to his brother’s house to change, arranging with Tim to go to the Koori disco before meeting the girls.
    â€œYou dirty bastard,” Charlie said with a wry grin.
    â€œWhat?” Tim replied.
    â€œSylvia, hey? She hardly ever goes out with black men. Reckons they’re too aggro.” Charlie played up to Tim.
    â€œI’m not going to tell you anything. It might get back,” said Tim, putting the emphasis on the last sentence.
    â€œI was only helping, brother. Gave you a good wrap.”
    â€œThanks brother, you did me a big favour.”
    â€œOooh, he’s not in love, is he?”

    Hank arrived at Charlie’s around eight that night. Charlie, Sam and Tim were having a few beers. Sam knew Hank and they greeted each other warmly. “What are you doin’ down this way?” Sam asked.
    â€œJust back for a visit. Won’t get stuck here like last time,” said Hank. They offered Hank a beer and then they sat around for a session. Sam talked about the hits and misses at the TAB while everybody else wanted to talk about something with bones in it. After the