Popo's Story

What are you making Popo?

Ha, boy! That’s the question. I making the thing without a name.

She introduced me to the gardener of the big house. He was a good-looking brown man, and he loved his flowers. I liked the gardens he looked after.

Popo’s wife had a job as a cook in a big house near my school.

Mr Popo, when you going start making the thing without a name again?

You too troublesome, go away quick, before I lay my hand on you

He came back as a hero. He was one of the boys. He was a better man than either Hat or Bogart. But for me, he had changed. And the change made me sad. For Popo began working.

Popo was never idle. He was always busy hammering and sawing and planing. I liked watching him work. I liked the smell of the woods... I liked the colour of the shavings, and I liked the way the sawdust powdered Popo’s kinky hair.

Popo wasn’t the same man when he came back to us... Vans stopped outside his house and were always depositing and taking away things. Then Popo began painting his house. He used a bright green, and he painted the roof a bright red.