Published: 13 Nov 2017

Reverend Stanley Marsden was recent to McBride’s Point, he had been appointed to the newly formed Parish by the Methodist Church, to attend to the town’s growing flock and bring god to the godless. There had been an Anglican Minister before Marsden’s tenure – Reverend James Smith. Reverend Smith had drifted north in his dotage and at the insistence of the town’s folk took on the temporary roll but the passing years had taken away much of his memory and his attention was more towards women folk and quality scotch than the scriptures.

During a service he would often stray from the religious path, divulging his memories of southern society, sometimes becoming somewhat bawdy. Finally it was his marriages that filled some newly wedded couples with trepidation, as they may not be joined legally, or even in the eyes of god, as it was often questioned if Smith had even been officially ordained into his heavenly role.

It had been a Sunday morning as the little gathering waited for their weekly service, when the news came via Marjory Milford. She had been late for service and as she, holding her long dress away from the dirt, hurried along the road towards the church, was passed by Reverend Smith. Cart piled high with his possessions, as he hurried his horse northwards in the direction of Cairns.

Marjorie Milford had called after the fleeting cart but received only the suggestion that the Reverend Smith was running late, which he repeated over and over until himself, his processions and the cart disappeared in a scurry of dust out of the north end of town and were never again seen in the district.

Some time later after taking up the position, Reverend Marsden visited the Native settlement with a whip in one hand and a bible in the other. He was a short, stout, clean shaven man with a round moon face and deep set eyes that searched one’s soul, always dressed in black and crowned by a large brimmed black hat, held on by a leather chin strap.

Marsden arrived unannounced at the native settlement out of the heat of a Sunday afternoon, booming religious verse and cracking his whip at what he considered the most important parts of his orations. The reverend’s favourite issue being infidelity and lust, while considering all native unions to be incestual or at best unwed in law or the eyes of god.

At the reverend’s first visit the natives fled into the scrub, not returning to their humpies until after the sun and the preacher disappeared but Marsden returned and with each visit the natives became less frightened of him and took to his preachings with humorous aspiration.

Within weeks of first visiting the camp Marsden had set to work building a small chapel, payment to which he bullied out of the town’s folk, even giving McBride a run for his money and managing to extract five pounds from the old man, given more so to keep the meddling clergy from prying into his business and indiscretions.

With his new chapel completed, Marsden set about teaching the so described savages more understandable English than that which many used, also the art of writing, giving his time for a few hours each week. Once he believed he had their trust and attention, he placed his wife Eliza into the position of Settlement Teacher.

Eliza Marsden was a thin, anaemic, fair skinned, English woman whose long straight brown hair touched with strands of grey, hung around her face and neck to complement her elongated features, while at the front was cut straight, creating a fringe a short length above the eyebrows. Her thin arms extended from her flat chest akin to the slender branches of some gaunt tree.

Yet there was strength and character in this woman, with her soft and harmonious voice that seemed to sooth the natives, bringing them lovingly to her side to hear stories of a distant land; of Kings and Queens and their intrigue. They sat around her in a circle under the shady trees, their black faces motionless and their eyes wide and white, hanging on to every word she spoke. Subtly Eliza supplemented her husband’s religion but did so with gentle persuasion, using stories of Christmas and the birth and of Mary’s love. Such things as love the natives could understand; black children, Jewish children, English all had mother’s love and family bonds but the fire and brimstone of Stanley Marsden, created more drama and humour within the community and they attended his services more for the theatre than for any religious message.

Back in McBride’s point Marsden also bullied the town’s folk into attending his services, which he delivered with as much gusto as he did for the natives but without the whip, it lay coiled like a paused snake on the lectern beside his bible, while his congregation waited nervously for it to strike.

From his advantage the Reverend struck at the immoral acts of the town’s menfolk for their indiscretions with the native women. There were now at least half a dozen or even more half-cast children at the camp, varying from newly born to teenage, all naked and running wild, snotty nosed and as unruly as the black children themselves.

Jock McBride flinched at Marsden’s accusation but remained upright and silent as did the rest of the men in the congregation, while the womenfolk nodded in agreement and disgust, quickening their fanning against the heat and embarrassment which drove them towards fainting spells, while all the time certain such indiscretions would be from those passing through the community and not from their own god fearing men folk.

Soon after his sermon on immoral behaviour Marsden arranged to have the mixed blood children removed from the camp and placed under the care of a new mission near Cairns specially created for that very purpose. Unfortunately he hadn’t told the citizens of his intentions, bringing about much conflict, while almost causing a riot and a lynching of the Reverend.

After his failed attempt to transfer the children, Marsden wrote to the Brisbane authorities on the matter. As for McBride, he kept well away from the controversy and during that time wasn’t seen around the camp, instead on many nights was found in town, where after a few drinks at the pub would disappear into the night’s darkness but not in the direction of his home.

“Are you missing the Rat?” Daniel asked after a quiet period during the night’s conversation. Of late Daniel had taken to visiting his brother more often then Lachlan was accustomed. Of all his siblings Daniel was the easiest to accompany, although his continuous innuendo’s and childish humour drove Lachlan to distraction, still Lachlan had an inkling of rapport with Daniel and although he would not admit it, had forgiven him for his childhood indiscretions, of which there had been many.

“Of course, he is a good friend.” Lachlan answered without hesitation.

“You saw him off then?” Daniel asked with a knowing smirk.

“Why do you ask?” There had been a slant of accusation in Daniel’s tone, which brought a measure of defence into Lachlan’s reply as his memory travelled back to his nude ride from the swimming hole.

“I saw you ride away with him.”

“Where were you that day as William was looking for you?” Lachlan enquired reaching the opinion Daniel had to be the instigator of his missing clothing.

“Out and about,”

“Where exactly is out and about?”

“You know, doing things.”

“William said both you and your horse were missing.”

“That was observant of him.”

“Did you follow us?”

“Now brother of mine, why would I do that?” Daniel answered his smirk widened while issuing his repeater laugh which in itself was admittance of guilt.

“You did follow?” Lachlan became stern and shook his head in disgust. “You know I wouldn’t put anything past you,” Lachlan paused, “you were watching me at the swimming hole,” he accused remembering his feeling of being observed “and I suggest you stole my clothes.”

“Fine joke eh,” Daniel at last admitted.

“I don’t see the funny side, besides you could have caused a lot of embarrassment if anyone had seen me.”

“The problem with you Lockie, you are too serious, you should lighten up and laugh now and then.” Daniel suggested.

“The problem with you Daniel you don’t know when you’ve crossed the line and that time you did so.”

“Do you forgive me brother?” Daniel was still displaying his playful disposition but for the sake of harmony with his only ally within the family he presented a measure of remorse.

“I suppose so but why do such a dumb thing?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time but I guess you are correct, it wasn’t that funny.” Daniel all but apologised.

“Fair enough what’s father been up to of late, he has been away from the farm quite some?”

“If he’s not here how can I know but I did hear a rumour and that does concern you – or sorta.”

“What would that be?”

“I heard father and William talking about marring one of us off.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t hear a name mentioned but I guess it would be either you or Robert?”

“Why wouldn’t it be you?” Lachlan asked.

“I didn’t think of that but then I guess Cameron would have to come first.” Daniel now wished he had listened further to his father’s conversation but a glare from the old man had driven him from the room. At first he believed it had to be Lachlan whom they were discussing but now he commenced to draw concern for his own future.

“It wouldn’t be me Daniel as father wouldn’t believe I was worth the effort.” Lachlan shrugged away the suggestion, besides their father was constantly delivering suggestions that never came to fruition and Daniel was often wrong with his rumours while elaborating to create drama.

“Hey Lachlan speaking of marriage, have you ever had a woman?” Daniel asked while helping himself to a second slice of freshly baked cake.

“Why?”

“Nice cake, I was wondering what it would be like to marry.”

“You should ask William.”

“That wouldn’t help William doesn’t even like Lucy, I thought you may know as -.” Daniel withdrew from his question.

“You do ask some strange questions at time.”

“Only interested.”

“I don’t see you chasing girls around, besides where is your interrogation leading?” Lachlan mockingly snapped.

Daniel disregarded his brother’s answer. “Do you remember when we were boys?” He asked from an oversize bite of cake.

“I remember a lot of things and you with Robert and the others were real bastards.”

“You loved it, any coffee left?” Lachlan refilled his brother’s cup.

“I wasn’t too pleased when you and Robert almost drowned me in the creek, or the time you pushed me into the river knowing there were crocodiles around.”

“You weren’t in any danger; we made sure there weren’t any in the area before tossing you in, besides William had his rifle with him.” Daniel answered without an inkling of remorse.

“Rifle – that old thing would have more than likely blown William’s face off rather than kill a croc.”

“You survived and you did say you wished to learn how to swim.”

“There were other things as well, things that could damage a kid for life.” Lachlan revised without showing any deal of concern.

“Again if I remember you accepted your annoyance with some eagerness.” Daniel suggested.

“Anyway I guess that is in the past but I have a question for you. I have heard that dad has been visiting the native’s camp and their women.” Lachlan enquired, being cautious not to make too great an accusation.

“You’ve heard about the old bugger, who told you?” Daniel answered somewhat disrespectfully towards their father.

“Never mind who.”

“It had to be Henderson, as the Rat knew?”

“Yes,” Lachlan agreed, “It was Stephen.”

“Are you more interested in dad rooting the gins, or the black brat?” Daniel asked without showing sympathy towards the native women or their father’s illegitimate child, their mixed race half brother.

“The child I guess I’ve already experienced his visits to the camp for myself. You should show a little respect towards the natives, it is actually their land.” Lachlan directed.

“Was their land, isn’t any more.” Daniel corrected without empathy. He continued. “Sure it’s true the randy old bugger has banged up one of the boong women and sprouted a kid.” Once more Daniel’s cracked laughter permeated the atmosphere. “And that’s not all; do you know Ruth, the wife of Arthur Miller from the general store?” Lachlan acknowledged he did.

Daniel continued. “Well the story goes he’s banging her as well – but that is only rumoured. It is suggested since the reverend has been hanging round the camp with his religion, father has found interest in town.”

“Where do you hear these stories?” Lachlan shook his head quite amazed at Daniel’s tenacity to listen in on conversations. He cleared the table and placed the remainder of the cake out of his brother’s reach.

“Mostly from the farm hands, they are a wealth of information, as long as you pretend not to be listning and don’t ask questions.”

“I believe Ruth is expecting?” Lachlan supposed.

“She is but Arthur thinks it’s his, even if he’s been banging her for years without any luck.” Another laugh, “no lead in his pencil eh.”

“Possibly it is Arthur’s; sometimes couples try for years without success.” Lachlan acknowledged.

“Could be so but the old man is still having her, that I know for sure.”

“I could ask you why so positive?”

“You could and I would say I’ve seen our buggy at the Miller house while Arthur is at his store.”

“That doesn’t prove anything as he may be there on business.”

“More than likely funny business.”

“I’d rather think it was business but again,” Lachlan changed the subject, “about the half-cast, what’s the child’s name?” Lachlan asked attempting to put aside the litany of scandal he had acquired from his carefree brother.

“Wouldn’t have a bloody clue, I don’t hang around the boongs camp but as you’re always up there with that black mate of your’s, I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it earlier.”

“Does mother know all this?” Lachlan asked.

“That I don’t know but one would think she would have heard something, yet she hasn’t ever mentioned anything.”

“Huh,” Lachlan concluded thinking of his mother and her lot in life, and her wayward husband who treated his wife and his children as little more than chattels, little better than he did the blacks.

“What’s the story with William and Cameron, they appear to have something going on?” Lachlan enquired taking a rare interest in his brother’s intrigue. As for his father, it was only his love and respect for his mother that kept him bound to his dysfunctional family.

“That is something I have not been able to work out.” Daniel admitted with a smirk, “but knowing those two, it well have something to do with sex and I will find out eventually.”

“True the lot of you have had sex on your brains since the day you were born.”

“And you don’t?”

“I think of it from time to time but don’t dwell my life around it.” Lachlan answered.

“I would think you give it a go before sleeping.” Daniel smirked.

Lachlan released a gentle smile, “do you remember Jack Collins; he worked here a couple of seasons back?”

“Yea, a good looking turkey, father sacked him on Christmas day and refused to pay him.” Robert answered.

“That’s him, he once asked me the same question, he used the terminology of lapping the lizard but I knew what he meant.”

“Well did you admit to it?” Robert asked.

“No but he said any man who said they don’t is a bloody liar, and if they admit to doing so a filthy bastard.”

“Which one are you?” Daniel asked.

“I guess the same as you Daniel.”

“You and Henderson were a good pair when we were kids.”

Daniel’s statement was opened ended, leaving Lachlan unsure of his brother’s intent.

“What do you mean?”

“Well neither of you protested.”

“How could we; William and Cameron were too strong and then later you and Robert with their help didn’t give us much chance.” Lachlan paused, “you know what they call that type of action?” He protested as Daniel gave a crude laugh. “It’s bloody well called –!” Lachlan didn’t complete his description, instead he diverted to their father’s decision to go blackbirding.

“Has father said when his crazy sailing expedition is to be?”

“Soon – probably at the end of the month; when Simpson returns from up north with the schooner,”

“Has he changed his mind?”

“About what?”

“About sending me,” Lachlan enquired his voice filled with doubtful hope. Unlike his father and most probably his brothers, Lachlan was law abiding and had a respect for social order and a strong interest in the development of his new country, on its way in becoming an equal partner in the ‘Enterprise of the Australian Commonwealth’.

“That my dear brother is something I am not privy to and because I don’t want to stir the old bugger too much unless he sends me along with you,” he paused, “anyway why don’t you stand up to the old man and refuse?”

“Maybe I should.”

“That would be a first in this family.”

“True but there’s always mother to consider.” As Lachlan spoke a flash of lightning illuminated the night as if it were day and a clap of thunder sounded directly above, shaking utensils where they hung near the range. Both brothers jumped as the metal roof brought forth the sound of galloping hooves.

“That rain sounds heavy.” The noise drew Daniel’s eyes upward towards the rafters and the rusting underside of the corrugated iron roofing. Already droplets of rain water were forming.

“Yea and soon it will find every small crack, small hole in the roof and drip all night.” Lachlan perceived.

“It’s your decision to live here.” Daniel commented dryly, while casting his eyes around the rudimentary elements of the small cottage and its claustrophobic condition.

“A little discomfort is worth being away from you lot; besides I like doing things for myself it give a feeling of autonomy and what is to be done and when becomes my decision, not someone else. ”

“I don’t tell you what to do.” Daniel protested.

“True,”

“Nor does Cameron,”

“Mostly not but when William puts wind up him he does,” Lachlan laughed, “but he always apologises first.”

“And Robert, he’s mostly harmless,”

“Alright, alright I get the point.”

“Hey I saw Reg Howlong passing at the gate this morning and he asked after you.” Daniel recollected.

“What did Reg want?”

“Only he is staying with his aunt in town and for you to visit him.”

“Has he grown any or is he still a short-arse.” Lachlan asked.

“I reckon he’s shorter than he was at school but still wearing short pants with the arse out of them. What was the name you gave him – Titch wasn’t it?”

“It was but I don’t think I’ll visit, school was too long back to think about. Besides I never liked the kid much anyhow.” Lachlan admitted.

“He must have like you; we all thought he was your pet puppy.”

“Funny boy.”

“I’ll tell you what Lockie, I could stay the night and we could chew over all times.”

“Yea and I know what you mean by conversation; I don’t think so.”

“With your leaky situation, maybe not.”

“It doesn’t bother me, I’ve plenty of buckets.”

Daniel stood to leave, “oh well, best be going before it really sets in.”

“You can take my coat,” Lachlan nodded towards the weather proof coat hanging on a hook behind the door.

“No I’ll run between the drops. If it doesn’t set in I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t forget father want’s you to pick up some stores from town.”

The rain paused for an instant, allowing Daniel to make his dash for home arriving almost dry, before recommencing with greater force, falling from a windless sky almost vertically to the earth, with droplets so large they may sting the skin if one chanced to venture out.

Soon visibility was low, only the dull light from the big house portrayed the existence of life, even the fruit bats had quietened and taken cover from the deluge, then as quickly as it had commenced the rain lessened into a tropical monsoon trough. There would be no trip to town with the morning, this was the wet and being so, the rain would make the roads sticky and the soil too soggy to work.

Remaining was Daniel’s suggestion to stay the night but Lachlan had long outgrowing his brother’s games, as he thought Daniel had. Once he would have allowed Daniel to have his way but now it was different, they were no longer children exploring their changing bodies. Could it be called incest to lay with one’s brother, as it was with a sister? Lachlan thought. He could not answer but was determined such folly would remain in their childhood years.

Truthfully they never actually bedded or showed emotion, only horseplay and that Lachlan freely admitted but the rough handling and forced commitment by the twins was never agreed to. That could never be considered horseplay. Fortunately they had soon become bored with it all and with William’s persistence, he and Cameron became interested in the districts girls. More so William with Cameron one step behind, always in hope but never brave enough to ask some sweat girl for her favour or her virginity. As for Robert, he appeared to loose interest in anything to do with sex, leaving only Daniel with his persistence and innuendoes.

His brother gone and with the last flicker from the lamp as it burnt from paraffin to wick, Lachlan sat in the darkness of his kitchen contemplating whether to retire for the night or not, as a drip of rain water descended from it hole in the roofing iron to hit the crown of his head, laughing he moved the chair, replacing it with a bucket. Drip, drip, drip it went as the bucket commenced to fill, then in the corner by the wood range another leak and another bucket.

‘Reg Howlong.’ Lachlan thought.

‘Now there’s a memory I could do without rekindling,’ but Lachlan did.

‘When was it? I can’t rightly remember – yes I do I was thirteen I was still considered to be the Runt then and not much taller than Reg.’

‘It was in the tool shed and Daniel caught us at it.’ With the memory Lachlan laughed. ‘Christ he may have been short but was he developed.’

“Oh well,” Lachlan spoke, “I don’t think I’ll be renewing that incident.” Lachlan spoke with a determined huff.

Surprisingly as quickly as it began the steady fall of rain lessened as the front found its way along the narrow coastal strip towards the south and the sky cleared. Outside the window moonlight bathed his world in an eerie glow, giving the spreading mango trees around the cottage the impression of being much taller and broader than they were as the fruit bats resumed their squabbling.

Occasionally there would be a plop as a mango dislodged, falling heavily onto the iron roof of a shed beneath the trees, or the loud shriek from bats as they argued ownership of the best fruit. Somewhere far off in the distance a Dingo howled plaintively, bringing Lachlan’s thoughts to the Aboriginal camp. They had a litany of dogs, all of which were malnourished and tick infested, yet considered an equal part of the community as were their children.

At that moment he wished to visit the camp to discover his father’s child’s identity but decided it was much too late, although the menfolk would most probably be sitting around their night’s fire, arguing about how best to keep it burning with the rain, or in poignant conversation how simple life was before the coming of the white man.

“Leave it for another day.” Lachlan advised himself.

“Funny how things always appear clearer with the morning.” He envisaged.

“Do I need to know?” he added, returning his thoughts to his mixed blood brother, his father’s shame. Yet the lad was a living human with the same needs as any other but Lachlan knew this boy, neither black nor white, would in most respects be lost between the two and forever condemned to be an outcast.

“That man has no respect.”

“I should just pack up, take my horses and go west.”

“Stephen, I wish you were here now.”

“I hope you are alright.”

Once again a dingo howled, this time it appeared much closer. “Did I lock the chook house?”

“Of course I did, Daniel made comment of the door needing mending at the time.” There was repeated howl, this time more distant, taking away concern for the chickens.

“Oh well, sitting here moping in the dark won’t help.”

“Come on Lockie, to bed.” Then he laughed.

“Those brothers of mine,” he thought of William’s mistreatment.

“Runt! – Huh,”

“Funny how things turn out, now let those brothers of mine take advantage of me!” He declared dwelling on Daniel’s reflections and suggestion to carry on from those long gone days.

Once in bed Lachlan remembered Daniel’s question on pulling oneself to sleep.

And he did.

“Hey Kari whatya doing up here?” Yarran asked of Lachlan, bringing his black face to beam with sincere greeting, while his white teeth flashed brighter than the sunlit day. It had been more than a week since Lachlan had confronted Daniel for information about their native half brother and now he had come to satisfy his curiosity. Who would the boy look like? The twins, Daniel or Robert, maybe him but no matter how he tried he could not recollect any partly white child he had seen in the camp resembling any McBride, and most definitely not their father.

At first Lachlan had decided not to take the matter further but intrigue eventually overtook him and he wished to at least know the child’s identity, although what he would do with the information wasn’t apparent. Lachlan knew he would not challenge his father nor would wish to interfere with the child or its family. What he could do was during the boy’s upbringing assure he was well cared for, how to do this wasn’t apparent but at least the initiative had been born.

Mid afternoon found most of the camp resting in the shade away from the day’s heat, while only the most gregarious of the native children were still at play, of who only two were of mixed blood. Lachlan cast his gaze over the children, deciding they were too advanced in years to be his father’s product.

“Hey Yarran how’s things?”

“Getting there,” Yarran disclosed mocking his friend’s usual answer.

“So am I.”

“Haven’t seen you in a long time,” Yarran declared.

“Busy my friend,” he paused, “I have something to ask you.” Lachlan’s brow wrinkled as he spoke, giving Yarran the opinion his friend was about to become serious. He had seen that look on many occasions and each time it ended in some deep and meaningful conversation, which usually had a simple answer, while its stormy substance for Lachlan, was considered by the black lad to be a simple Willy-Willy, a whiff of leaves in a scurry of dust.

“Best we go for a walk eh?” Yarran suggested, Leading Lachlan away from the camp into the tall timber directly behind.

“That is your answer for everything,”

“Easier to talk while you walk,” they entered into the forest – “See that tree there?” Yarran asked pointing to a silver leafed tree as tall as any in that part of the forest, its girth so broad that two grown men, arms outstretched and touching, could not reach around. Lachlan agreed.

“That is my dreaming.” There was pride in Yarran’s voice although not shared by Lachlan whose thoughts were firmly fixated on his father’s indiscretions and the identity of his half brother, “what is your worry Kari?”

Lachlan was slow to respond. Twice he commenced then retreated to valuate the style of his sentence. Eventually he elaborated.

“I believe my father has a child up here at the camp?” He asked nervously, although a good part of him didn’t wish to know the answer. It was also obvious that Yarran did not wish to respond as he scratched at the leaf litter below his dreaming tree with his foot, his head downcast and unresponsive.

“Is it true?” Lachlan demanded changing from English to Gulngai.

“Yes Kari it’s true.” The Black lad’s answer was laboured and solum but remained with his broken English.

“Can you point him out to me?”

“He is my mother’s sister’s boy.” Yarran answered.

“You’re Cousin?” Lachlan declared; “that makes us family.” Lachlan exclaimed loudly, not knowing whether to be astounded or excited but his friend remained silent.

“Will you show me who he is?”

“If you wanna but I think it better you don’t.” Yarran warned.

“I would still like to see him.” Lachlan enforced as they slowly returned to the camp.

“Then I’ll show you but don’t let the old folk see you watching, I get plenty of trouble.”

“So you will point him out?”

“I will my friend but only if you don’t approach him or tell him about your father. He doesn’t know his dad.” Yarran repeated while taking a firm grip on Lachlan’s arm, forcing him to pause.

Lachlan again promised as they approached the camp.

“You must also promise you won’t talk to you father about him as well.” Yarran begged.

“I promise, what is his name?”

Yarran laughed and shook his head. “All the half white children are given white man’s names; we call him “Billy.”

“There’s isn’t any Billy in our family?” Lachlan protested, although he had an Uncle Bill on his mother’s side and his brother was William.

“Na never calls such kids names from the father’s family, the elders liked the name Billy and he got it.”

Once back in the camp Lachlan’s eyes were everywhere, searching for his father’s progeny.

“Why do you let men like my father have their way with your women?” Lachlan asked as they approached a group of humpies. Yarran simply shrugged away the question as a scrawny, naked light brown child left the side of his ebony skinned mother to enter into the mid afternoon light. Yarran nodded towards the child.

“Is that Billy?” Lachlan quietly asked as the snotty nosed child made haste towards Yarran wrapping its thin arms around Yarran’s legs. As he did so the child spoke in language before running away to play with his friends. Yarran answered the child before turning to Lachlan.

“He is Billy.” Yarran agreed.

“Does Billy speak English?” Lachlan asked surprised by the child’s call to its playmates in language.

“No English.” Yarran answered.

“Does my father give anything towards keep?”

“No Kari – Mr. McBride no know Billy is his boy.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Lachlan asked feeling somewhat devoid of inspiration.

“No Kari, best you leave Billy for his mother and his family, if your dad finds out he may have him removed besides I don’t think Mr. McBride would want to know or help Billy.

“I feel somewhat responsible.” Lachlan sighed as Billy disappeared into the undergrowth, naked bare footed and laughing with his playmates.

“Kari you can’t be responsible for your father, no more than I can be for mine.”

Let Gary know what you think of his story.

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