“Ancestors, attack!”

Volta stood behind the playground, in the shade of a tree, surveying the situation before him.

On the steps of the glaring, white monument in the middle of the park stood Seamus and four other men in their early twenties. Muscles bulging out of their polo's, sweat dripping down their red faces as they attempted to keep an enraged Joey pinned to the ground.

He was on his stomach glaring up at Seamus, teeth grit.

A phone on a tripod still recording.

If he wanted to, Joey could throw them from him in an instant. But something was keeping him down.

"This is for my brother," Seamus' voice echoed throughout the empty park, "you pathetic piece of shit."

He kicked Joey in the face, small flecks of blood splattering up the side of the monument. Joey's nose taking on a new shape.

"Brutal," laughed one of the young men holding Joey down, "Seamus, you bloody nutter."

Seamus slicked his sandy brown hair from his face, brushing something invisible from his shoulder. He was dressed in work attire – button down and dress slacks – as if his schedule was to incite hate crimes at 8:30 and roll into the office at 9.

He stomped his RM Williams to the ground, trying to dislodge the blood from Joey's nose.

"Oy bruv," Joey smiled through the blood running over his mouth, "you'd better get that blood out before it stains."

Seamus' nostrils flared, he adjusted his pants and knelt down until his face was right in front of Joey's.

Joey murmured to himself, eyes rolling around in his head, blood running into his mouth.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Seamus spat, pulling Joey's head back by his black hair.

Joey giggled, eyes focusing on something behind Seamus.

"I'm calling in my spirit people, bruv," Joey spat blood out as he talked, "you better watch out."

Seamus looked up to his friends.

"You don't think he's serious, do ya?" One friend asked, eyes wide in fear.

"I've heard things about the black people curse." Another said.

Seamus pointed a threatening finger at Joey.

"Stop it," he spat, "fucking stop it."

Joey kept on murmuring, eyes rolling, blood spluttering from his mouth.

"Make him stop!" one of the friends shouted.

"Seamus he's going to get us!" another said.

Seamus drew his fist back, teeth grit in terror.

He was going to finish Joey.

For good.

"The time is now!" Joey shouted, voice booming around the park, "ancestors, attack!"

Seamus brought his fist down with the power of a lethal king hit.

Eyes white with rage, spit flying.

He closed his eyes as his fist came into contact with –

A hand.

His eyes flew open.

A black hand was wrapped around his white clenched fist, a mere inch from Joey's face.

Seamus' friends stood, mouths wide open, in shock.

Volta bent down in front of Seamus.

"I heard you been beating up a black fella."

He squeezed Seamus' hand until he whimpered.

The blood drained from Seamus' face.

"Holy shit," a friend said to another, "black magic is real."

Volta dragged Seamus up by his fist, spinning him around until his arm was firmly pinned against his back.

"Let him go," Volta said to the four friends.

They jumped back, releasing Joey.

Joey slowly rolled onto his side, holding his hand to his nose.

Seamus looked down at the ground.

"Say you're sorry," Volta whispered in Seamus' ear.

Seamus grunted.

Volta moved Seamus' hand further up his back until he squealed in pain.

"Say it," Volta said through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry," Seamus mumbled at the ground.

Volta kicked him in the back of the knee, bringing him to a kneeling position.

"Say it like you mean it."

"I'm sorry," Seamus said louder.

"Say his name."

"Joey."

"Say 'I'm sorry Joey'"

Seamus paused, looking at his friends who were slowly backing away.

"I'm sorry Joey." He said quietly.

"Lil' Joey," Joey added.

Volta looked away, trying not to smile.

Seamus looked to Volta.

"Go on, say it," Volta said, regaining his composure.

"I'm sorry… Lil' Joey." Seamus said.

Volta threw Seamus to the ground.

He looked around, feeling eyes on him.

An audience had gathered below the monument steps, three children stood with mouths open, looking up at Volta.

"Wow." One said, eyes growing wider.

"Did you see that?" said another.

"I love him." Said the other.

Seamus stumbled to his feet, glaring at Volta.

"This isn't over," He shouted, eyes out of focus, "I'll get you, you black c—"

Volta closed his eyes and faced the sky, hands outstretched like he was drawing energy from the sun.

"What is he doing?" whispered Seamus' friend.

Volta waved his hands around, stepping slowly towards Seamus.

"Wololo," he sang, "wo-lo-loo."

Seamus looked around, panicked.

"Seamus," his friend shouted, "he's doing more black magic!"

Joey looked up to the sky, trying not to laugh.

"Wololo!" Joey belted out, "wololo!"

Seamus flew down the stairs, barrelling into his friends.

They grabbed on to one another, dragging the phone and tripod, and fled to the Pajero in the parking lot. Clambering into the car as if being chased by zombies. Tyres squealing as they sped through the school zone and out onto the main road.

The children erupted in whoops and squeals.

Volta pulled Joey to his feet.

"Wololo?" Asked Joey.

"Age of Empires," Volta grinned, "it's all I could think of on the spot."

Joey cackled.

"Good one."

"Let's get out of here." Volta pulled Joey down the steps towards the Discovery in the car park.

Volta took two steps across the park when he heard a small eeee!

Something latched onto his leg.

He looked down.

One of the children hung from his shorts, backpack and all, smiling up at him with brilliant white teeth.

The other two children weren't far behind, squealing as they ran at Volta.

"You were amazing!" the young girl said, out of breath.

"He's just like a superhero," said a young boy, "but black!"

Volta looked down at them, lips pursed.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

He tried to pull the kid off his leg, but the kid hunkered down, smiling bigger.

"I'm Daisy," said the young girl, "and this is Boyd," she pointed to the young boy next to her, "and that's Desmond." She said disapprovingly at the young boy attached to Volta's leg.

"Oy," Joey said, hand still holding his nose, "not every day you see black kids in town, where you from?"

The young girl stood with her hands on hips.

"We're from Cherbourg," she said matter-of-factly, "and we know all about you, Joey."

The three kids nodded in agreement.

"You're a living legend." Said Boyd.

"Huh?" Joey's eyes grew wide, "really?!"

The kids nodded again.

"We saw what you did to that boy, Malcom," Daisy said, "if you hadn't of stepped in he was going to set our friends hair on fire."

The kids nodded, eyes wide.

"What?" Volta looked at Joey, "is this true?"

Joey nodded.

"Yuh," he moved his hands around as he spoke, "there was this Indian girl he was hassling at the train station, he said he had to cleanse her and make her white."

The kids looked down at the ground.

Volta absentmindedly ruffled Desmond's hair.

"Does this happen often?" he asked the three children.

They nodded, still looking down.

"We can't speak our language when we're at school." said Boyd, "we're not allowed to be black or the other kids beat us up."

Volta grimaced.

"Do any of you have a phone?" he asked.

The three nodded, each producing an iPhone.

Joey gave Volta a look that said 'kids these days'.

Volta picked Desmond off his leg and stood him next to his friends, grabbing Daisy's phone.

"Here's my number," he tapped on the screen, "share it around. Call me the next time something bad happens."

The kids nodded, eyes full of excitement.

"How do you say thank you in Gubbi Gubbi?" Daisy asked, blushing.

"Gubbi Gubbi?" Volta's eyebrows rose.

"You're Kabi, right?" Daisy said meekly.

Volta paused, looking away.

"Sis, we don't know what he is," Joey said softly.

"Oh," Daisy looked at her shoes, "sorry."

"How do you not know who you are?" Boyd frowned.

"Shh," Desmond put his hands on his hips, "some people don't have a family, remember?"

Boyd looked away, bottom lip protruding.

"How can you be Aboriginal without kin?" Boyd mumbled.

"Oy!" Joey stepped towards Boyd, "I'm his kin."

Boyd looked Joey up and down.

"You're not Aboriginal, you're just –"

Daisy pulled on Boyd's ear, causing him to yelp.

"What's that?" she cupped her hand to her ear, "school bell?"

She grabbed Desmond by his backpack and dragged the boys away, joining the flow of late school children through the car park.

"Bye!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Volta rubbed his neck.

"Kids." He said.

"Damn kids."

Boyd was right, Volta thought.

Boyd was right.