Day 104 - Bollywood in Budgee Springs - Chapter 2 (1552 words)

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Bollywood in Budgee Springs

Chapter 2

The Whistle was the local, and it was also the De Facto Town Hall after the original Town Hall was destroyed in the fire of 2003, it was a lot of money to repair or rebuild it and the town was already in a tight place financially, so with a dwindling and ageing population it was by popular vote that the Town Watering Hole also became the Town Meeting Place as well.

The main area of the pub was big enough to get most of the citizens into it in one go and there was plenty of accommodation at the hotel, which had been expanded into a fifty plus bed facility when the boom of the mid twentieth century when Farming was still booming, the Tungsten Mine a few towns over in Gordons Gully was in it's peak production phase, before the late twentieth century lay-offs and the unfortunate closure of the pit due to a clerical error in 1987. By the time that the error was discovered, a number of the miners and their families had shut up their houses and headed away from the small mine in New South Wales and resettled in Queensland working at one of the big four up there. The Gordons Gully Mine was only a small deposit and it had been mined for decades before being accidentally shut down. A clerk had misheard what the surveyor had been saying about getting another “shaft down” into the pit, but then that translated into “shut down” and the machinery got set into motion. Nobody thought to check that the request was valid, everyone knew that the mine had a limited lifespan so it was expected eventually. Someone did spot it, but ti was just too late, Gordon's Gully was a ghost town and Budgee Springs was a the place where the miners went, got to mix with the Farming community and bring their business, but that all dried up too. Visitors to the mine would stay in Budgee Springs, which was by far the nicer town, the Spring for which the town was named was a local highlight, whereas Gordon's Gully was a hole. Literally a big hole in the ground that was the Pit, and it smelled like a mine.

The Whistle was a hard place to book into in those days, now it was mostly empty, most of the time. A bit of money would come in from the Public Bar, the Garden Bar would have food and the occasional party but mostly it was the same people who had lived there all their lives and still expected the beer to be cheap, the conversation to be stoic and the people to be local. If anyone from out of town wandered in on their way through to somewhere else, generally the only reason to be in Budgee Springs, then it would be like those scenes in the old westerns when the stranger walked through the swinging saloon doors, the pub would fall silent and you could hear a pin drop.

It was not quite that bad, but there was a core group of people who were too old and too set in their ways to be truly welcoming to random visitors with their loud and annoying habits. Chief among these was Charlie himself, who was welcoming once, but now he wanted the Whistle and Budgee Springs to grow old gracefully, with some dignity.

There was a small stage at the front of the room, away from the door and back in the day live music would be staged there, but now it was just the place where the meetings would be held from, it faced the bar and today there was a table with four chairs around it. At the table were three older women and at end, a little separated was the Mayor, Max looking a little uncomfortable in the middle of the area, raised slightly from the people in the bar tables and chairs around the room. There was more people than tables for once, and some of the younger residents, the ones only in their sixties, only recently retired, stood around the edges so the older generation could have the chairs, and the women especially.

Above the table was a wide banner strung from end to end above the stage and on it in a hand painted, but immaculate lettering was: “Budgee Springs Welcomes our Bollywood Brothers!” in a bold, bright red, all capitalised sentence. Standing at the head of the table was Ella Riddell, the president of the Budgee Springs chapter of MoM (AKA the Mothers of Merit). The Mothers of Merit was a social group run exclusively by women in rural towns of Australia for over a century and it had deep roots in the Budgee Springs community. It had all but faded from society in general but here in the country side it retained a respect and tradition for all the local women. Charlie's wife had been a president before she died so tragically, while in office and so had Polly's Mother and the former Mayor Marge Watson. Ella Riddell was the sister of the Whistle owner and Publican Paul Riddell, who was one of the best friends of Charlie and his family. Paul and his wife Julie had done the wedding reception for Max and Polly when they finally tied the knot here in their home town, it was a small town and the links between everyone were pretty much all out in the open.

Ella banged her gavel and gave her brother a cold stare as he sniggered a little at her officiousness. The frozen glare she stabbed at him shut him up and he hurriedly looked away and started wiping the bar absently to avoid those eyes.

“Order! Order!” She thumped on the table but the usual murmuring only subsided when she caught Charlie's eye and he cleared his throat loudly, getting everyone's attention and bringing silence down.

“As Madame President of the Budgee Springs Chapter of Mothers of Merit, I call this meeting to order.” She indicated along the table as she introduced the others seated with her. “Annie Munro will be taking minutes, and Maggie McDonald will be the treasurer, the budget having been provided by Mike...”, before she gave him the title she shot a quick look at Charlie who was looking at his own feet and not the stage “...by his Worship the Mayor”.

“Now to business at hand, the Whistle will be providing the accommodation for the cast and crew of the movie, thanks to Paul and Julie, so the hotel will be booked solid for a month. If you have any family or friends who are planning on visiting during the shoot, please come and see me or Paul or Julie and we'll make arrangements for rooms as needs be. The committee has pre-arranged a number of alternative billeting accommodations for other visitors if anyone needing accommodation, or if the... um … do we call them Indians Max? I mean Mr Mayor?” Ella was genuinely concerned about using the right titles and not offending anyone by calling them something racist by mistake, she was aware that it was possible to do this without even knowing you were doing it these days.

“Will there be rooms needed for the Cowboys to go with these Indians?” A voice shouted cheekily from the back of the room and the men in the pub all erupted with a laughter that died rapidly under the withering eye of Ella Riddell who was pointing at the man she knew had said it instantly.

“Tom Divot you stop that immediately. Max... I mean Mr... I mean THE MAYOR, has put a lot of time and effort to get this movie deal for Budgee Springs and heaven knows this town needs it. We WILL be taking this seriously and I don't want a song and dance about it from you Tom Divot or anyone at all are we clear?”

The room was quiet and the women of MoM had a practised look of disapproval that the men in the room knew only too well. She held the silence in her bony grasp for a full minute before turning on her heel and smiling sweetly at Max and graciously sweeping her hand to the stage, telling him it was time for him to come forward and speak.

Max felt a little silly standing on a stage barely six inches off the floor and in front of a table of his supporters from MoM. He was pretty sure that no one in the town knew what a Bollywood movie was like, there were no Indian people in Budgee Springs or in Gordons Gully that he knew of and so they probably expected like he did that it was going to be like any other movie production. All lights, cameras and people yelling “action” but in a foreign language. He could see his father sitting in the back of the room near his mates, but in front and centre of the bar and now he was paying attention to everything that his son was about to say.

He cleared his throat and hoped that the ground would open up and swallow him, but it did not.