Wrong Kind of Black

It was the morning after the Australia Day bash

and I was the only bloke in the nation not hungover.

Buddah, breakfast.

But I did have a mean appetite.

When Paulie stayed out all night,

he'd come home so full of stories

I'd need tea, milk and six hours of free time.

Oh, OK.

Any other morning, I would've stopped and conversed with the natives,

but today, it was bacon over birds.

Nothing to see here, officers.

Back in the day,

the first thing the government would do to break a black fella

was take them off the land.

That robbed them of their spirit.

Same thing would happen to me if they took my Merc.

How long have you had this car?

It's mine.

Lucky you.

You know why we pulled you over?

Uh, because I'm black?

No, why?

You left your milk on the roof, mate.

Oh, well, there's that too.

Didn't you see those girls waving?

Is that a crime?

Not unless you stain the duco on this beauty.

I would love to spend a bit of time in her.

If you know what I mean.

You have a good one.

There's a first time for everything

and that was the first time a copper did me a good turn.

Couldn't wait to tell Paulie.

Paulie! You're home, my brother.

Hey, you won't believe what just happened with me and the cops.

You had a big night, hey, Buddah?

Paulie... what happened?

After they'd bailed him up outside the pub,

they took him down to the station.

They made him pay for talking back.

We're going to get pizza. Don't fall asleep.

First with his body.

Then with his spirit.

Come here.

When your spirit's gone, your body is an empty shell.

The body must follow the spirit. They cannot be parted.

But sometimes, the body is scared.

So Paulie helped it along.

The royal commission into Aboriginal deaths in custody

looked into Paulie's death.

They said the officers' conduct fell well below what was expected.

They got off with a warning and that was the end of it.

I closed myself off to the world and buried my head deep within the sand.

Wasn't pretty down there.

I decided to follow Paulie.

It'll be good eating tonight, Paulie.

I'll go check on the stingrays.

Which one did he give ya?

Which what?

I know he gave you a story.

Maybe he did, maybe he didn't.

- Come on, which one was it? - Can't tell ya.

It was the stingray one, wasn't it?

You could tell the way Dad's arms were moving.

- Like how? - Like this.

- That's not how they go. - How would you know?

Because Dad told me all about it!

Hey.

Why haven't I got that story?

Why'd you tell him? I'm older.

I didn't tell it, Mont.

The spirits told it through me.

They wanted Paulie to learn, knew it was his time.

His mind must've been in the right place.

When is it my time?

Stingrays, spirits and death, it's all in the timing.

I didn't know it then, but sometimes it's good when it's not your time.

Probably why I used a rope meant for tying trucks,

not for hanging black fellas.

I wanted to be rid of everything.

I sold the lot.

And I mean everything.

I wanted to forget. It hurt so much.

But a certain someone had other ideas.

What?