Published: 29 Nov 2021

Life at Bullock Creek once again became aligned to the weather and moved as slowly as the dusty breeze. At first some of the blacks occupied Jack’s house but quickly decided it to be on the wrong side of the track. It was true the house was closer to the pub but considered too far from the rest of their mob, so it again became vacant.

Some time later a family of four arrived. Bill and Winnie Crossing; Bill was a cattle hand who had been injured during a fall from his horse and was recuperating. They had little money and were forced to leave their rented house at Mt. Surprise, when they heard about the empty houses in Bullock Creek deciding to take advantage of free rent until Bill could once again ride and travel back to Seven Hills Station.

The Crossing’s were a pleasant couple of few words, who kept mostly to themselves, although like clockwork Bill Crossing would visit the hotel each Friday evening, have one beer and return home. The Crossing’s had two boys and mischievous and although of school age were educated at home by Winnie using correspondence. Often Travis or Bradley would have to scold the boys for throwing stones at the horses On one occasion they started a small bushfire, which fortunately burnt out before it could do any lasting damage, although it did take out the corner support to one of the horse paddocks and set the mob of horses there contained into a nervous state for some days.

At first the boys denied lighting the fire and blamed the native lads. Eventually they admitted gilt but as no damage was done were forced to apologise to Bradley and offer penance by doing odd jobs around the house. Instead of putting them to work Bradley had the boys feed the new foals for a week, believing doing so would give some respect towards the horses.

The Crossing boys also found entertainment by raiding the hotel rooms, where on one occasion they found a scotch bottle with a good measure of liquor remaining, which they shared becoming quite intoxicated and stupefied. In truth too stupid to evacuate the room and the puddles of regurgitated scotch and vomit they had caused. The sound of their vomiting brought Bunny to discover their antics and with an ear in each hand marched them home.

Two sheet-white faced boys stood before their parents while Bunny scolded the father. Somewhere between ‘brats’ and ‘parental control’ Bunny noted their sad pathetic little faces as they once again commenced to heave their now empty stomachs. Bunny lost her anger and commenced to laugh.

“Anyway I’ll leave them in your care, I think they have punished themselves enough,” Bunny surmised while their father sent them to their room. “Don’t punish them further Mr. Crossing, no real harm has been done and I don’t think they will do it again,” Bunny concluded.

It was around the time of the Crossing boy’s bushfire that Bradley once again recommenced his disappearing during early morning, rekindling in Travis a need to know where he went. He therefore decided to follow Bradley on his next expedition and during the preparation of their midday meal he set a plan for the following day.

“You seem to be miles away,” Bradley commented as he entered the kitchen for lunch. He placed his hat on the sideboard but didn’t remove his boots. “There clean,” he barked at Travis on receiving a displeasing glare, “wife and mother,” he added and became seated.

“I was thinking,” Travis says dispensing the thought of following his friend as he placed a plate of corned beef and pickle sandwiches and a large pot of tea onto the table.

“About what?” Bradley asks.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Travis laughed.

“Probably sex you dirty little bugger,” Bradley grunted and flinched at the sounding of the train’s whistle, “that sounded close and it’s early,” he commented.

“Nope you’re late; probably the wind direction, you’re jumpy today.”

“Things on my mind but don’t you worry your pretty little arse over it.”

“So you like my arse?” Travis says as joined Bradley at the table.

“Get real,” Bradley protested and collecting a sandwich he stood while swallowing down the last of his mug of tea.

“What’s the problem, you’re as jumpy as a fish outa’ water?”

“Nothing really; Roy made a suggestion about the mob of horses in the back paddock and I can’t remember what he said,” Bradley sighed and retrieved his hat while standing motionless in thought, “I’ll finish my sandwich on the move, I want to keep an eye on one of the foals, it looks a little lethargic.”

“Were you drunk at the time Roy told you?” Travis added with a touch of humour.

“As a matter of fact we both were a little under the weather but as I remember so were you.”

“Maybe you should you contact him?”

“Na, I don’t think it was that important. Anyway he probably wouldn’t remember either.”

As Bradley concluded there was a knock to the door.

Bradley went to answer, deducing it would more than likely be the blacks after a free feed or grog.

As the door opened Travis heard conversation. It was a male voice that somehow seemed familiar.

“Hey Travis you have a visitor,” Bradley called from the front door.

“Who is it?”

“Says he’s Evan Williams,” Bradley called back.

“Evan, what are you doing here?” Travis asks on reaching the door, his eyes wide with surprise.

“I’ve come off the train to visit you; I did speak to Roy and he said it would be alright.”

“Well it’s good to see you but it’s a long way to come for a visit,” Travis declared.

“Well?” Bradley says and picked a large portion of pickle from the remainder of his sandwich, walking across the verandah he threw it to the ground, “the ants can have that.”

“Oh sorry – my boss Bradley Cooper;” Travis brusquely introduced.

“Evan, so who would you be in the scheme of things?” Bradley asks.

“I was at school with Travis,” Evan offered his hand to Bradley but only received a sharp head nod, “greasy hands,” he claimed.

“Different school year,” Travis explained.

“Obvious,” Bradley commented.

“Do you mind if I stay for a week or so?” Evan asks.

“I don’t mind but Bradley’s the boss.”

“If Roy said you can it alright by me,” Bradley agreed and replaced his hat to leave; “See you at tea time; and Travis no more fucken’ stew okay.”

“You like stew,”

“Year stew for tea, leftover stew for breakfast and stew sandwiches for lunch after a while it becomes a little hard to swallow.”

“That’s exaggerating,” Travis protested.

“Maybe so but I guess you get the gist of it.”

Bradley departed mumbling fabricated displeasure towards stew.

“What was that about?” Evan asks as Bradley cleared the stairs.

“Never mind Bradley he’s alright, only not one for company.”

Travis invited Evan in,”

“Are you sure Bradley won’t mind?”

“Na, he will be fine – have you eaten?”

“Stew?” Evan laughed.

“Don’t believe that, Bradley is exaggerating.”

Evan hadn’t eaten since leaving Mareeba and was soon supplied with the leftover corned sandwiches and sweet tea along with much conversation.

“How did you know how to find me?” Travis asks.

“Your Uncle Roy told me.”

“So when did you see Roy?”

“I approached him for work after school about lawn mowing but he said he already had someone, it was then he asked me if I was a mate of yours as he had seen us talking in the street.”

“You’re not blond,” Travis gave a light chortle.

“What does that mean?”

“Doesn’t matter it’s a family joke. Have you seen Greg?”

“Yea but we had a falling out and he doesn’t want to associate anymore.”

“Why would that be?”

“It’s a long story; he’s become somewhat erratic of late. He was in hospital for a week a month back.”

“Not the motorbike again?”

“It was more like fighting.”

“Fighting?” Travis questioned remembering the stories of treatment given by his father and brother.

“That was the official line but I rather think it was his brother Wayne, I did visit him in hospital and he looked a right mess but he told me to fuck off.”

“No loss I’m afraid, I’ve had the same problem with him,” Travis sighed at the thought of a friendship ended but was beginning to realise he had gained in the guise of Evan.

“What kind of work do you do around here?” Evan asks on finishing his sandwich.

“To tell you the truth not a lot; Roy mostly pays me to keep Bradley company and sometimes I think it is Bradley who is keeping me company.” As he spoke Travis became distant. Evan’s visit was once again drawing him west towards that great expanse of the Queensland gulf country and his solitude.

“When are you going bush?” Evan asks bringing Travis back from his daydreaming.

“I’m in the bush,” Travis answered.

“You know what I mean.”

“Soon,”

“That was what you said some time back, when you were visiting home.”

“These things take time.”

“I still want to join you,”

“What about finishing school,”

“I’m going to leave,”

“I’ll give you points for persistence Evan; tell you what, if you do leave school early, give me six months and let’s say,” Travis commenced to do mental calculation, “if you’re still interested meet me at the Forsayth hotel on,” another short calculation, “The tenth of November.”

“That’s a deal, I’ll be there.”

“If you like I’ll show you around, there are a number of cute new foals.”

“How big is the property?” Evan asks.

“Don’t rightly know, small compared with many in the district, Roy keeps it to breed horses.”

“Where has Bradley gone?”

“At the moment he would be up at the stables sorting out feed for the foals, if not probably taking one of his secret walks into the scrub along the creek; which reminds me I should be helping him. Come on I’ll show you around.”

“What do you mean secret walks?” Evan asks as they approached the feed shed.

“He disappears along the creek for an hour or so most days.”

“What does he get up to?”

“Dunno.”

“You should follow him,” Evan suggested.

“Evan that’s not like you besides I’m not that interested,” Travis lied.

“Is there any water in the creek?” Evan asks.

“There’s a water-hole about half a mile upstream which is around neck deep and another closer to the house but shallow at present, other than that it’s but a trickle this time of the year,”

They reached the stable and found Bradley struggling with the fodder. Both offer their help. Bradley accepted and appeared pleased on having one more person to boss.

Evan’s visit ran for the full length of the school holiday, yet he fitted into the boy’s lifestyle so well that even solitary Bradley accepted his presence, taking on the role of tutor for the finer points of horse-man-ship, as far as allowing Evan to ride Bradley’s chosen mount being called Grogan.

“Comfortable?” Bradley asks as Evan moved about in the saddle.

“Sort of,”

“Have you ridden before?”

“Only my cousin’s pony bareback but it’s closer to the ground and I did take some lessons.”

“The secret is you don’t fall off,” Bradley dryly suggested.

“Huh,” Travis huffed.

“Why so Travis,” Bradley quizzically asks.

“Someone should have given me that advice when I was first riding.”

“Walk him about and see how it goes,” Bradley released his hold on the reins while Grogan recognising someone new decided to play up but Bradley soon pulled him into line.

“Are you nervous?” Bradley asks as Grogan commenced to do his ear flicking trick.

“A little he is much bigger than my cousin’s pony.”

“Take a deep breath, and think of something else,”

Bradley controlled the reins bringing Grogan’s head close to his own. He softly spoke, “you behave yourself old fellow,” with the words and a gently rub Grogan appeared to settle. “The ears are a good indication of what a horse is thinking,” he advised.

“I’ll remember that,” Evan agreed.

“How long are you staying?” Bradley asks while readjusting the stirrups to Evan’s length.

“No set time, I guess as long as you can put up with me.”

“What about school?” Travis asks.

Evan ignored Travis’ question.

“How old are you Evan?” Travis curiously asks realising that in such a short period of time Evan had gone from kid to young man.

“Almost eighteen why?”

“Just asking, as I thought you had another year to go after this year.”

“Had, but I told you when we last met I wasn’t finishing the final year. You don’t need book education to ride a horse,” Evan walked Grogan around the yard agreeing with the stirrup length, “he’s a little frisky,” he admitted as Grogan commenced to toss his head about.

“He has a soft mouth and is telling you not to pull so hard on the bit, he won’t bolt.”

Evan slackened the reins and Grogan settled.

“Do your parents know about you leaving?” Travis asks.

“Shit no, I’ll leave off telling them to the last minute possible.”

“Lean back with your legs forward, the way you’re sitting you’ll have a bad back in no time,” Travis advised.

“We’ll have to select a horse for you while you are here. There are a couple of riding mounts from the last lot Roy brought up. What do you Think Travis, would ankles be quiet enough?” there was mischief in Bradley’s tone.

“You must be kidding!” Travis loudly interjected.

“I guess I was,” Bradley dryly agreed.

“What’s wrong with ankles?” Evan quizzically asks.

“Even Bradley can’t handle him,” Travis explained.

“Why is it called ankles?”

‘Cos’ he’s lower than an arsehole and you can’t get much lower than an ankle.”

“You could if you’re flatfooted,” Evan retorted.

“Funny boy, with a remark like that I think we will try him out on Ankles,” Bradley growled.

The following morning Evan was watching Bradley working in the feed shed when he noticed the rear of the buggy in an adjacent shed. He became interested.

“Do you use the buggy?”

“Na, Travis wanted to but I can’t see the fun in it.”

“It looks almost new,”

“Travis and I worked on it for a while and he did most of the painting, well the pink undercoat,” Bradley gave a rye smile, “you can still see some of it where I missed with the Prussian blue.”

“What are you up to?” Evan asks momentarily distracting his attention from the buggy.

“Mixing the feed for the foals, do you want to help?”

Without waiting for an answer Bradley passed a bucket of oats to Evan and nodded for him to follow.

Spying Bradley’s approach a number of mares advanced with haste, their foals finding it difficult to keep pace. Once close to the fence line they paused and faltered.

“You’ve spooked them,” Bradley says and took back the bucket Evan was carrying, “wait here while I feed them.”

Bradley dumped the feed in a trough and returned to where Evan was waiting; “they’ll get used to you in time.”

“What about the buggy?” Evan questioned as they finished with the feeding.

“What about it?”

“I thought it may be fun hitching up one of the horses and taking it for a spin but I suppose you need a trained horse to pull it.”

“Usually a draught horse,”

“That is what I was thinking, do you have one?”

“We have an ex-trotter.”

“What’s the dif?”

“It was once used in racing, you know at the trots, harness racing down in Cairns.”

“Could it pull your buggy?” Evan was growing in interest.

“Suppose so he is rather large and strong for a trotter, I guess a racing sulky is a kind of buggy and it would be accustomed to harness.”

“Could we?”

“Na, I’ve too much to do – talk to Travis he’s got plenty of time for that sort of caper.”

Evan was quick in finding Travis and put the idea of buggy rides to him, discovering Travis was as almost as disinterested in doing so as Bradley had been but seeing the lad filled with so much excitement he relented as long as Bradley agreed.

That afternoon Evan took control of the kitchen and by mealtime had dished up a meal not seen by the boys for some time.

“Who taught you to cook?” Bradley asks as he hoed into a large, rare juicy rump steak that melted in the mouth as if it were butter, with just the right amount of pink juices with the slicing.

“Mum did but I can only do steak and boil a few spuds,” a pause and smirk, “and stews but dad reckons only women and poofs work in the kitchen.”

“What about chefs, most of them are men,” Travis amused.

“I won’t repeat what dad thinks of them,”

“Steak’s fine but hard come by around here,” Bradley acknowledged.

“Why so there are plenty of bullocks.”

“You can’t simply go out into the paddock and slice a steak of some poor beast’s rump you know.” Bradley discredited from a mouth loaded with juicy steak.

“Then where did you get your supply,”

“Monthly from the pub, Bunny has a generator and freezer. Well all I can say, this is tops.” Bradley turned to Travis, “maybe Evan could teach you a thing or two.”

“Good I wanted to sweeten you up to suggest buggy rides.” Evan admitted.

“Ah cook like that and I’ll buggy ride you all the way to Cairns and back,” Bradley agreed.

The morning’s chorus of wildlife came all too quickly and with the noise was the smiling face of Evan standing at Travis’ open door, “knock knock,” he says loudly bringing Travis to a state of semiconscious. Travis was never a morning person, a habit that suited the house perfectly, as neither was Bradley a lover of early rising and before his first coffee he was a bear. Travis was usually quiet, full of yawning and if he had been drinking somewhat non-compos.

“What’s the time?” Travis asks and groaned, placing his pillow over his head while turning from the intrusion.

“Around six-thirty,”

“Is the house on fire?”

“No,”

“Evan, go back to bed.”

“I thought we could start out early with the buggy,” Evan’s tone rose a degree.

“What before breakfast?”

“I’ll start breakfast now if you like.”

“Don’t bother – have you woken Bradley?

“No,”

“Then don’t if you value your life. Go back to bed and call me again at eight – no on second thoughts past nine.”

“Alright but I thought you bushmen were early risers.”

“Go away Evan, go feed the chooks or collect the eggs or something.”

Travis was now awake but not prepared to come from the snugness of bed. He could hear Evan somewhere outside his verandah room and if it wasn’t for the kid’s excitement he would have reacted sternly towards him. One thought was to dump a bucket of water over the railing to douse the kid’s enthusiasm, instead at exactly seven-thirty he dress and joined Evan in the yard. “Shush, a little less activity, you don’t want to wake Bradley,” Travis warned.

“Too fucken’ late for that, what in hell’s bells are you two up to?” Bradley growled from the verandah a short distance above their heads, wearing but an old pair of long-johns he used as pyjamas. The one’s with a suspicious stain in a personal position.

“It’s Evan, he a little excited about taking the buggy out.”

“Before breakfast?” Bradley demanded.

“That’s what I told him but you know kids, they get animated about some things.”

“Animated!”

“Yea that’s the word animated,” Travis answered.

“Before my coffee?”

“Seems that way.”

“Animated like Walt Disney?”

“That’s the fella’,”

“Animated?” Bradley repeated.

“Yea Tom and Jerry,”

“I like the word but,”

“But what?” Travis enquired.

Bradley offered further disapproval with a loud grunt – “its sparrow’s fart.”

“It is about that time of the morning I agree,” Travis released a smile while waiting for Bradley’s final disapproval.

“Then kid, get yourself into the kitchen, mine is strong coffee, three sugars, toast, not burnt like Travis usually manages and two runny eggs- you do all that and I’ll consider your buggy ride.” Bradley turned from the verandah rail, “animated,” he announced loudly followed by a loud huff and returned to his bed.

Gary’s stories are about life in Australia as a gay man. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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