Four Little Words | ONC2020

06 | rugby players and rainbows

The scene opens on Camberwell train station. It's Saturday, almost lunch time. The air shimmers and simmers with the heat rising from the asphalt. 

People are spread out across the platform, waiting for the 11:53am train. Couples, families with young kids, several teenagers, an old man on a mobility scooter, and a 6'3 State rugby player deep in whispered conversation with the pretty redhead beside him. All of them are heading into the city – maybe to the 'G' for the cricket; to the Botanic Gardens for the matinee performance of 'The Wind in the Willows'; or to the Salvador Dali exhibition that's in its closing days at the National Gallery.

Rugby boy is carrying an impressive and professional-looking video camera. It's heavy, but he hoists it onto his shoulders like it weighs nothing at all. His copper-curled companion holds the boom mike while he begins to shoot. 

First a slow pan across the platform. Then narrowing in on a petite blonde standing by herself just behind the safety line. She's dressed in a pretty cotton dress the colour of daffodils and light pink One Stars, a canvas bag hanging from her shoulder. This girl is about to do something big and public and brave but she looks completely relaxed, and he admires that about her. They don't usually hang with the same crowd but she's in his maths class. He's always thought she was cute. It's a combination of the black-rimmed glasses and her quiet confidence that really does it for him.

Red pokes Rugby sharply in the side with her elbow, reminding him to take footage of someone other than Blondie. He picks them out in turn – the tall Sudanese guy with a voice as big and deep as he is skinny; the curvy brunette in the backwards cap beatboxing under her breath; the fit, preppy-looking kid leaning against the station wall; and the scruffy, scrawny dude with the skateboard under his arm.

The train pulls into the station and Blondie and the rest of her crew step onto the third carriage, each of them taking great pains to pretend that they don't know the others. Rugby and Red follow closely behind. 

The group spreads out strategically across the already busy carriage – some of them moving to aisle seats, some of them choosing to remain standing. Blondie sets herself up just inside the middle door, one hand firmly gripping the yellow pole next to her for balance. As the carriage continues to fill, Rugby and Red subtly shift positions to make sure they have a decent line of sight of each member of the group.

It's all very cloak and dagger and kind of fun.

The whistle sounds and the train moves out, the chirpy voice-over reminding everyone that this service is a stops-all-stations bound for Flinders Street and that they should all remember to have a nice day.

For a minute there is silence. And then there isn't.

A single, sharp clap from Blondie – the signal they've all been waiting for.

A series of vocal beats.

And then the perfectly pitched notes.

Some high. Some low. Some sounding more like instruments than human voices. Blending perfectly together as they rise and fall.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh, ooh

Somewhere over the rainbow

Way up high

And the dreams that you dream of

Once in a lullaby."

The carriage is filled so completely with sound that even Rugby and Red, who knew what was coming, find it hard to believe that there are only five voices in the mix. Backing track, percussion, melody and harmonies – all them.

At first the other passengers glance around in confusion. What is this? Is it a prank? Where is the rest of the sound coming from? A few resolutely try to pretend that nothing is happening, poker faces staring into the distance. Others smile and begin to silently mouth the words. A toddler in her pram giggles and claps.

Rugby captures it all through his viewfinder.

Then he hears it. An additional voice, a little shaky with age but clearly a seasoned performer, joins Blondie in singing lead. Her eyes find the man in the crowd and she begins to move towards his mobility scooter, holding out her hand to clasp his in solidarity.

Others see this and also find their voices. By the second chorus, most of the carriage is singing. It's no longer completely in tune or in time but that's part of its beauty. People are laughing and smiling and connecting with strangers.

Blondie is lit up like Christmas morning. Cheeks flushed, eyes shining bright, her powerful voice still soaring above the crowd while holding the hand of an old man she doesn't know.

Rugby can't help it – he zooms in and stays firmly focused on her all the way to the end of the song. The carriage erupts in spontaneous applause, cheers and catcalls. Blondie and the old guy embrace, grins wide and eyes suspiciously wet.

As the applause dies down, Matt Chomsky turns off the video camera and lowers it to his hip. Cecily Ryan makes sure the boom mike is switched off before she turns to him.

"Seriously, Chomper. What do you reckon Trav's going to say when he realises that 50 percent of the footage you just shot for his big marketing thing was of little Cassie Malloy?" Cecily's laugh is teasing.

"Pack it in, Cec. She's the lead singer, of course a lot of the footage was going to be of her." Chomper tries for a 'couldn't-care-less' tone but even he isn't sure he buys it. Cecily certainly doesn't.

"Keep telling yourself that Chomp..."