Moments later Karen is at the door;

She softly knocks;

“Grady, Brian is on the telephone for you.”

“What does he want mum?”

“You will have to ask him, I’m halfway through doing your breakfast, so don’t be long.”

“Tell Biff I’ll call back.”

Grady isn’t in a rush to return the call as he believes Biff will be calling to say he also has the snivels from the rain.

Ten minutes pass;

More knocking at the bathroom door;

This time it is Lewis doing the thumping;

“Mum said breakfast in on the table and getting cold.”

“Piss-off Lewis, I’m dressing now.”

Grady comes to the table with his obvious snivel.

“Grady’s got a cold,” Robyn teases as she plays with her cornflakes by using on large flake as a boat as she powers it about in the milk with her spoon. She makes the sound of a motor as the flake progresses.

“You should have called for a taxi,” Karen suggest as she places a plate of fried eggs and hash browns to the table.

The toaster pops up and Lewis collects the toast.

“I would have gotten as wet going to the phone boxes.”

“It’s a pity we can’t invent a wrist phone like Dick Tracy has in the comics,” Lewis suggests.

Robyn gives a smart answer;

“That’s silly Lewis how would you get a long enough cable?”

Lewis gives his sister a low growl as the telephone sounds again.

“Most probably Brian calling back,” Karen surmises.

“Didn’t you tell him I would call him later?”

Karen doesn’t reply as Lewis slides away from the table to answer the call.

“It’s Biff,” Lewis shouts back into the dining room.

“Tell him I’ll call him after breakfast.”

The telephone conversation continues;

“Okay,” Lewis finally agrees into the receiver and calls to Grady;

“Biff said it’s important.”

Grady takes the call;

“Hi mate, what’s going on?”

“It’s Tubby.”

“What’s Blake done now?”

Biff’s tone is soft;

“I am thankful you refused his lift last night.”

“Why?”

“Tubby is dead.”

“What!”

“It happened last night after we saw him off at the pub.”

Grady is silent;

“Dad told me this morning as he is with the Voluntary Rescue Services he was called out to the accident.”

“How did it happen?”

“Dad said Tubby ran at full speed into a fuel tanker, the force sent his car across the road into that large Star Fruit tree outside the Wilson’s house; he probably couldn’t see the tanker through the heavy rain.”

“Oh shit!”

“Mum, Grady swore,” Robyn declares with a haughty tone.

Lewis pokes out his tongue at his sister.

“Lewis is poking tongues.”

“Look mate – gotta’ go I’m late for work. I’ll see you at the game Saturday,” Biff suggests.

Grady is surprised, “are you playing?”

“I’ll be watching; it is the final game for the season so, I should give the boys a little sideline support.”

Grady calls off and returns to the table.

“You look shocked,” Karen suggests.

“It’s Tubby Blake; he was killed in an accident last night.”

Saturday’s game with the team in the dressing room and Coach Tuddenham has the air of defeat about him. He attempts to install inspiration into his team, believing his pep’ is like pumping up a bicycle tyre that has two extra holes. One of the holes is Biff’s premature departure from the team, the death of Tubby Blake being the other. True he has a replacement for Blake, even if not to the same ability but replacing Biff from local talent is virtually impossible.

Five minutes to kick off;

Tuddenham scans a tide of despondency, not one face appears confident, not one player believes in coach’s faith in their ability, instead of a final razzing Tuddenham simply sighs;

“Righto’ boys off you go, do your best, I can’t ask for anything more and without Biff we will have to play one down.

As Tuddenham speaks there is the sound of boot studs on concrete coming along the adjoining passage, a moment later Biff steps into the room in full kit.

Expressions lift towards a positive level.

“Bastian what are you doing here?” Coach demands.

“I couldn’t let the team down for the last game of the season and I thought I own it to the memory of Tubby.”

One by one they take Biff’s hand, all except Coach Tuddenham.

“A nice thought Bastian but you know the rules as well as anyone; the playing list must be given to the opposition the previous day.” Tuddenham pauses, “you all wait here I’ll have a word with the officials.”

With haste Tuddenham is in conference with the games referee and touch judges, who call Trigger Robson the opposing coach to the field. It would be a long chance, Robson and Tuddenham have known each other since they were boys, even once playing in the same team, Trigger didn’t get his nickname from being soft and it was his trigger fist that banned him from playing while still a teenager, only some years later being given the opportunity to coach as long as he left the trigger home.

By now the crowd is becoming impatient, someone throws a soft drink can falling at the referee’s feet, followed by much laughter and booing. One of the touch judges collects the can and throws it to the sideline, “I saw that Gregory Norman,” he warns.

Gregory Norman returns banter and another soft drink can, followed by what appeared to be half a hamburger.

The crowd is hissing displeasure.

“What do you reckon?” the referee asks Robson.

Robson turns to Tuddenham, “you know the rules as good as anyone Laurie,” he firmly reminds.

“Then we forfeit the game, or play one down.”

“I would agree if it was anyone else but Brian Bastian,” Robson says.

Tuddenham isn’t happy believing their long existing relation on and off the field may amount to something. In truth he should have known otherwise, as off field they were best of buddies, on field the coaches were mortal enemies.

Tuddenham turns despondently towards the dressing rooms.

Grady is at the sideline waiting for a positive sign to transfer back to the team.

Tuddenham doesn’t appear happy as he approaches Grady, then Robson calls him back.

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do Laurie.”

Tuddenham pauses for Robson’s final decision.

“In memory of Tubby Blake, Bastian can play but you owe me one.”

With the final siren Robson realised his mistake by allowing Biff to play as somehow the local team lifted to unknown heights and for one last game Biff and Grady played their hearts out and were so harmonised one may believe they were in each other’s head. Although winning didn’t mean a great deal for the home team it did keep the team from coming bottom thus saving an embarrassing relegation to a lower league and Robson’s team still remained on top with aspirations towards one more final.

A week of celebration as if the team had won the grand final, they even forgave Biff for abandoning the team in its hour of need, besides cricket season was approaching and their best batsman had promised not to do a runner. There was also Tubby Blake’s funeral then to honour their fallen comrade the fishing trip that originally was Tubby’s idea, so it was decided to take the trip in his memory.

It is an odd thing about promises, in the first incident the fishing trip consisted of thirteen, with the demise of Tubby Blake his replacement was offered but declined as he had already committed elsewhere. Now with a little more than a week before the trip the number had dwindled down to eight. One of the eight suggested inviting Bruce Menzies as he had been verbally pencilled in to take Biff’s place in the following season’s play list. That suggestion is quickly dismissed as Menzies’ invitation to join the team is at best cool, many saying he had been away from playing the game for such a long time he wouldn’t have the necessary skills to complement the team and nowhere near that executed by Brian Bastian. As for inviting Menzies to join the team his inclusion is best left to Coach Tuddenham and the committee and not to speculate on the offer.

Pub night at the team’s favourite drinking hole being the Royal, with six of the team seated at a table away from the din of the bar in discussion about their fishing trip. The first problem to arise being where to get a tent big enough for eight and should they try beach fishing down the coast. If consensus is for the coast, possibly a tent wouldn’t be necessary as Grady could borrow the family beach house, or should they try a river somewhere.

The freshwater fishermen are inclined towards the escarpment above Davies Creek Falls being closer to town if the wether became inclement and, as suggested by Michael Brown, it is closer to the hotels if the beer ran out. Regarding the Dowie beach house there was no way David would agree to a mob of rowdy footballers running amuck with his pride and joy.

Three rounds of drinks with the decision being Davies Creek, now it is the problem of a large tent.

During previous expeditions Tubby Blake had been the fisherman and he supplied the tent as well as much of the equipment but as his wife is in obvious mourning, none of the would-be fishermen wished to approach Tanya.

It is Grady who arrives at the main problem as he returns to the table with a fresh jug of beer;

“Firstly how many have actually agreed to the trip?” Grady questions.

No one speaks although each look towards the others for inspiration.

“Eight I think,” Luke Bevin eventually suggests.

“Name them?”

“Well us six,” Bazza’ Jones says.

“Wilson has pulled out,” Michael ‘Brownie’ Brown says.

“Also Harris, his wife won’t let him,” Wayne Nelson adds to the mix.

They all laugh from recollection towards previous trips and how Harris arrived at the last possible moment with apology, sorry lad’s the misses says I’ve too much to do about the house – maybe next time.

“So that means us six.” Grady says.

“It looks that way,” Brownie agrees.

“Is there anyone else wishing to pull out before we plan further?” Barry Jones asks.

The six appear positive.

“Tent,” Biff says.

“Tents,” Grady relates the plural.

“Meaning?” comes from Brownie.

“We were all at one time in the scouts and school cadets, surely there are enough two man tents remaining for out usage.”

“Good thinking,” Nelson agrees.

The remainder of the evening is therefore left to drinking.

With their evening at the Royal concluded the six depart, with Biff and Grady walking home together, Grady gives a stagger as they cross the road almost in front of the local constabulary.

The police vehicle’s lights flash as it stops close to the boys.

“Greedy Dowie come here,” Officer Langford demands.

Grady approaches the vehicle placing his hands on the opened passenger window for support.

“Hands of the vehicle, Langford warns.”

Grady steps back laughing; “yes sir.”

Grady gives a military salute;

“You appear to be drunk Mr. Dowie.”

“Me, Drunk?” Grady slurs; “never.”

“What about you Mr. Bastian?”

“Only a little.”

“I hope you don’t intend to drive.”

“We’re walking, that is if Grady’s legs hold out.”

“Then you help him home before the silly little bugger is run over in the dark and Mr. Dowie I’ll be reporting your condition to your father.”

The boys burst into giggles as Officer Langford continues into the night,

Grady becomes more animated;

“I’ll tell your father,” he mimics.

“Will he?” Biff asks.

“For sure but all dad will do is say I’m a disgrace to the Dowie name.”

Usually Langford is a fair man therefore it would be the end of the matter.

In the dullness about the railway station Grady pauses.

“I need to sit down,” Grady says.

“Are you gonna’ chuck?”

“No but my head is spinning.”

They sit in the dull light on the steps leading to the station ticketing office.

In the distance the early morning goods can be heard steaming-up its boilers, it is almost the last of the steamers in the north as diesel has become the go.

Grady takes a deep breath.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna’ chuck?”

“Shush with questions for a mo’.”

After a few minutes of silence Grady takes in a deep breath;

“Are you well enough to continue?”

“I think so, I usually pace myself but when there’s a crowd, I sort of lose count of the rounds, especially when everyone is ordering jugs.”

“I love that sound,” Biff says.

“What sound?”

“The sound of steam trains steaming-up in the night, it is haunting.”

“I hear these back lines are the last in the state and by next year even they will be gone then the only way you will see a steam engine will be in town parks for kids to play on.”

Grady stands;

He immediately sits again;

“Not quite ready yet.”

“Are you going to keep playing next year?” Biff asks.

“Na, haven’t told anyone yet; with you gone it wouldn’t be the same.”

“Oh shucks.” Biff laughs.

“True, we had a good thing going, I would feel isolated among a pack of amateurs without you in the team.”

“We are all amanitas, or we would be in the state side.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do and feel the same.”

Grady stands;

“Feeling any better?”

“I think so, come on let’s start moving.”

While manoeuvring three sets of rail lines, one up, one down the third for shunting, Grady is having difficulty managing his footing in the rocky ballast.

Biff holds his friend upright.

They carefully cross the lines while laughing at nothing in particular;

“I saw Trish on Saturday morning; she was doing some shopping for her mum,” Grady says.

“Did she ask about me?”

“No, she said she has been offered a job in Walkamin.”

“Nice girl I hope she finds someone suiting.”

“If she is so nice why drop her?”

Greedy you do ask a lot of questions, as for why, that is something you may never know.”

‘There’s that vagueness again,’ Grady thinks.