Published: 20 Feb 2017

“Well kiddo I’ve made up my mind.” George declared one morning from a moment of silence around the breakfast table.

“What would that be?” Esca enquired from the comic page of the daily news paper.

“I’ve decided to head for the coast once my next dole cheque comes through.” George appeared excited with the prospect of once again hitting the road and the gloom developing since the New Year lifted instantaneously.

“Where to?” Esca asked.

“Don’t rightly know. Somewhere cool, I can already feel that sea breeze in my hair and warm sand between my toes already.” He related somewhat tritely but with glee. “I may even find myself a young Luke, a house and settle there.” He added with a smile, without believing his own words.

“You should get yourself a job then you could afford all that.” Esca suggested, immediately feeling somewhat hypocritical with his mind on his own situation but at least he was looking for work.

“Obvious you haven’t heard the fable about the Traveller and the Surfer.” George offered.

“No what did they get up to?”

“It’s somewhat long sure you want to hear it?”

“No but I guess you want to tell it.”

“Here goes –

“There was this Traveller who was travelling north and came upon a nice open beach. He decides to rest for a while. Are you with me?”

“Nope.”

“I’ll continue – as he views the ocean he spies a young fellow resting under a tree.”

“What kind of tree was it?” Esca interjected.

“I don’t bloody know, say a Coconut. The Traveller starts conversation with the young man, who tells him he is a Surfer. Then the Traveller asks him what he did for work. Nothing the young man answer’s I just surf. What do you do for food? The Traveller asked. I catch a fish. The Surfer replied.”

“When do we get to the punch line?” Esca asked.

“Almost there, just listen. The Traveller thinks for a moment then gives his advice. Why not catch two fish and you can sell one.”

“What is he a bloody travelling sales man or a career adviser?” Esca once again interjected releasing a cruel laugh.

“It doesn’t bloody matter what he was, I digress. The traveller suggests the young man could catch two fish, then many fish which he can sell at the market. Then he can purchase the transport of the fish and in time the market. Then in some years of hard work and good luck the young man would be rich enough to just sit under a tree all day and relax.” George concluded.

“Astute but I don’t think you are equal to your Surfer friend.” Esca declared.

“Maybe but the story is the same and I’m enjoying it all now and it isn’t costing me anything.” George finished his fable feeling most proud of himself, even if he had not convinced either of the boys.

Two days and George was ready. His pack stuffed with his few belongings, dole money in his pocket and travelling.

“Do you want me to drive you somewhere?” Esca offered.

“Only the bus stop if I know the driver I should get a free trip.” George answered as they reached the front gate. “You still haven’t fixed the gate.” George mentioned, noticing the rusting iron structure was now almost buried amongst the weeds and long grass.

“You didn’t fix the kitchen cupboard either.” Esca added.

“Oh I did say I would do that, well maybe next time.”

They passed through the gateway, being surprised by the sound of a whistle. It was Ralph Withers, the postman on his delivery round. He paused and handed Esca an envelope. Small, white and dirt stained its writing almost illegible.

“Thanks Ralph, you must be the only Postie in town who still uses a whistle.” Esca commented pocketing the envelope without further scrutiny.

“Most probably the only one in the Country young Esca,” Withers answered pushing his bicycle along to the next house. Again the whistle sounded as Esca drove George to the bus stop where the two stood silently beside the graffiti and broken panels of the bus shelter. George finally spoke as the bus came into sight, a speck on the western horizon and growing larger with each passing second.

“I’ll tell you something kid, you never know when you stop being a child and become a man until one day out of nowhere you realise the fact, also that it happened years before without you even recognising it.” He declared with a sigh.

“Is that what happened to you?” Esca asked.

“Umm I mostly said it, so it wouldn’t happen to you. Esca you are much too serious for your age and don’t let Luke get away from you.” George declared as the bus arrived.

“Too late I stopped being a boy the day Jack left and when dad lifted the whip.” Esca solemnly answered.

“I think that’s a cop-out Esca.”

“Maybe so George but I can only be me and I don’t feel serious.”

As George mounted the bus steps his mood changed and new life flushed his cheeks. “See ya Kiddo,” he called back taking the seat directly behind the driver.

George did receive his free ride and was once again gone from his nephew’s life but his parting words remained.

Back at the house Esca remembered the envelope. He retrieved its now crushed existence from his pocket and scanning the hand writing. It was unknown to him as for the postmark; smudged, while the reverse lacked a return address.

“George got away ok?” Luke enquired as Esca entered still puzzling over his correspondence.

“Yea free trip as well.”

“What have you there?”

“Letter,” Esca answered, turning the envelope this side then that, as if its sender’s identity would magically appear by doing so.

“Who is it from?” Luke asked sidling close to Esca to view it more clearly.

“Dunno,” Looks like a child wrote it.

“Open it,” Luke demanded impatiently. Esca responded, slowly lifting the almost loose flap to withdraw a scrap of paper that appeared to have been torn from a school exercise book, adorned with more child-like writing.

“Well I’ll be it’s from Jack!”

“What’s he say?”

Esca read the letter out loud, his voice shaken by the experience.

Dear Esca,

I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you before but I didn’t want dad finding out where I were, so please don’t tell him. I suppose you are all growed up now and have a great job, maybe even going to University. You always wanted to be a scientist or something posh.

I hope dad has been treating you well and I’m sorry I had to leave in such a rush but I had my reasons, maybe I’ll tell you one day. At present I am doing fencing contracting near Winton but should be finished in four to six months, maybe I’ll come and visit you then and we could meet somewhere out of town. Or you can visit me up here.

How is mum, give her my love but please don’t tell dad where I am.

Love Jack.

Tears welled in Esca’s eyes as he reread the letter. He shook his head as his face prickling with excited disbelief.

“So he received your card.” Luke commented.

“Seems so there’s a foot note saying my card had to chase him over four addresses before he received it as he left Julia Creek some time back.

“You didn’t tell him about your father did you?” Luke added.

“To be honest, I didn’t think of doing so. I wasn’t even sure if the card would find him.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Luke asked.

“Suppose I will have to, He’s given me an address so I’ll send him a letter tomorrow.”

“What about your mother are you going to tell her?”

“I’m not sure, it is really up to Jack to contact her but I will give him her address and I will have to let George know.” Now Esca’s problem was George who was so elusive, how would he contact his uncle? George did give him a care-off address but said he would not be there for some time. It was just as possible he would change his plans and not arrive there at all.

Somewhere in the distance came the mournful sound of a diesel train horn capturing the boys’ attention while having morning coffee.

“That sounded like a train horn.” Luke commented half way to the front door with Esca close behind. Towards the door it sounded again. Once at the door they both peered into the direction of the railway tracks, even though it would be impossible to see either the station or a passing train from that end of town but if the wind was in the right direction it would sound as if the lines were running down their street.

“Must be a ghost train,” Esca laughed while making spooky motions with his hands.

“When I was down at the shops I heard a couple of old biddies talking about the reopening of the line; something to do with the mine.” As Luke spoke there was a scream from the park. Brett Fraser had a younger boy in a head lock, while growling obscenities close to the child’s ear. “Looks like the Fraser kid is taking over from where Hutton left off.” He declared while moving closer to the front fence.

“Hey Fraser, leave the kid alone!” Esca shouted, stepping ahead of Luke he passed through the gateway and commenced to cross the road. Fraser released his hold allowing the kid to make haste his escape.

“Get fucked you murderer!” Fraser shouted back, followed by a handful of gravel from the road edge. Esca commenced to walk towards the park but before he had reached half way across the road, Fraser bolted back towards town.

Once home his story to his father didn’t include his treatment towards the younger boy, his obscenities, or the hurled gravel, only mentioning he was in the park and Esca Brody picked on him.

“That’s Brett’s trade mark.” Esca said humorously once back inside the gate.

“What’s that?” Luke asked.

“Brett Fraser, all you have to do is speak to him and he hurls a hand full of stones.”

“Should throw them back.”

“More than stones – should drown the little bugger.” Esca shook his head in disgust.

Later that afternoon Esca received a visit from Bill Fraser warning to keep away from his son or there would be trouble.

“What more than you give me already?” Esca answered boldly.

“Esca didn’t do anything to your son Mr. Fraser.” Luke supported but without effect. Fraser shot him a look that suggested he would also be added to the man’s hate list before returning his spite towards Esca, pointing a well armed finger towards him from the safe distance of the gateway the Newsagent continued.

“I’ll get you Brody.” Fraser hissed and was gone.

“I don’t think I’ll be buying any more news papers from that man.” Esca declared releasing a nervous laugh as Fraser entered the park and disappeared along the bottom street.

“We should leave town, find somewhere else.” Luke suggested.

“No I won’t let them win, I’m staying.” Esca was furious, allowing the door to slam behind with a loud thud springing the latch. He turned towards the damaged latch realising his release of temper proved nothing. “Shit!” He cursed loudly then calmed and laughed. “I suppose that gives me something to do, are you any good at latches?” He asked of Luke, who in his usual calm way offered to fix the latch.

“Na I broke it, I’ll fix it, besides it was only hanging by a bent screw anyway.”

Earlier that morning a small group of town’s folk gathered on the station platform to greet the return of their rail service. As they waited the diesel motor came into sight from the slight bend before the station, lifting a loud cheer from the revellers. Alas answering their optimism the driver gave three blasts on his horn before sailing past at break neck speed towards the Two Mile and the mine. Behind the diesel motor was a number of open freight wagons carrying mining equipment but no passenger carriages.

Fraser had been on the station as the train sped through. His expectations were high but took a dive as the train quickly passed. Immediately he returned to his shop to telephone Henry Wallace.

“Henry,” Fraser barked into the receiver.

“Bill what seems to be the matter?”

“I thought you said the reopening of the rail service to town was a certainty.”

“It is why?” The Estate Agent appeared confused. He had only the previous day been in contact with the mines management and the state railways, who guaranteed the line, would be reopened.

“Well I’ve just come from the fucking station and the train sailed through, loaded with mining equipment but no passenger carriages.” Fraser’s anger rose with each spoken word.

“Settle down Bill, they have giving me their word.” Wallace assured.

“I’m worried Henry, if they don’t include passenger services it could affect Four King’s profit,” Fraser paused, “or survival.”

“Maybe they were delivering mine equipment ahead of the reopening.” Wallace suggested.

“I hope you’re right Henry, by the way I have a favour to ask of you.” Fraser said calming from his rail issue.

“Sure Bill what can I do for you?”

“I’ll come in and see you about it tomorrow.”

Over the following week there were two more trains, both without passenger carriages also carrying mine equipment, neither stopping at the town’s station. Bill Fraser still concerned, called a meeting of Four Kings without Barnes. Nothing was concluded. There was little that could be done but wait until the mine finally opened, while continuing to lobby the mining company and railways. Besides it appeared that only Fraser showed concern, Kenny, Wallace and Jones believed it was a certainty, their position on the Council would not be taken lightly by external influences and a contact of Wallace in the State Parliament also gave his assurance. The rail service was destined to return.

Two month into summer and the country side continued to dry to a degree not seen for many years. The crown of Butcher’s Hill was now invisible from the Brody house through the long dry grass, while Esca refrained from climbing there because of the abundance of snakes. Two of the town dogs had already succumb to bites and a large angry creature was discovered close by the school yard, loosing its life to the janitor’s shovel.

Esca often thought of how John Rush fared, as he had not seen him for some time and being naked and bare-footed in such a dry snake ridden terrain, must be an invite to encounter many stinging crawling creatures. Come the winter he imagined someone coming into town declaring they had found his decaying corpse lying under some shady tree, his withered skin punctured by a number of snake bites, while bull ants and crows took their share of him.

“Have you seen Rush of late?” He asked of Luke, who declared he had some days previous, being almost close enough to smell him. He turned up his nose at the notion.

“I thought you fancied him?”

“He would have to be washed down with sand soap and scrub raw before I’d go near him. Luke suggested. “But he is a big boy.” He added breaking into a wide and filthy smirk.

“So you say.”

The temperature had soared to record levels with more than a month of summer still to come, causing heavy usage of power and the occasional black out. One such day Luke suggested they go swimming at the Two Mile but on their arrival found it was crowded so they left. There was another more secluded spot, along a long winding track but much further from town, so they thought they would try their chances there.

Luke with most of his body protruding from the vehicle navigated their way through the tall dry grass. Ahead was the ribbon of tea tree that indicated the location of the creek and a track that had obviously not been used for some time.

“To the left,” he shouted back into the cabin. “Right,” he added bringing Esca to stop.

“Hey do you mean right as in alright or the direction.” Esca complained.

“The direction you goose, we are almost there and the track is more visible just ahead.”

On their arrival they discovered the creek to be dry, except for a brown slush and a stagnant pool shaded beneath a cluster of tea trees. Disappointed they retraced their wheel tracks through the long grass returning home.

Once home they were greeted by a heavy flow of water along the park’s guttering, washing over the footpath to pool in the brown grass of the park. Splashing and otherwise enjoying the water was a group of kids, quick to discover the cool distraction from an otherwise hot monotonous day.

How the fire hydrant became open was a mystery but obviously it had been operated by someone using the tool designed for that job. It was also discovered one such tool was missing from the Council Depot and Brett Fraser’s name had been suggested by one of the younger boys playing in the water.

As usual Barnes delegated his Constable to enquire into the matter and approaching the child who had accused Brett Fraser, the boy became panicked deciding he had only heard Fraser had something to do with it but could not remember who had told him.

Drawing a blank on the matter Payne decided to at least talk to Brett, thinking it possible to frighten him from further mischief but on approaching the father he received further obstruction. Fraser found it most difficult to believe his son would have been involved in such a prank. Brett maybe head-strong and somewhat loose with his tongue but wasn’t brave or smart enough for much else. As for Barnes setting his private terrier on to Brett, the Sergeant would hear of his displeasure as soon as Payne left. For the moment he had no choice than allow the policeman to speak to his son.

Calling the boy to one side, Payne sat him comfortably, asking Brett about his school work and football. The child soon relaxed but this ended as quickly, with the Constable’s change in his mode of questioning.

“One of the boys told me you were responsible for opening the Hydrant Valve.” Payne asked, his change of direction taking the boy by surprise.

“No sir, it- it wasn’t me.” Brett stuttered showing enough signs of guilt to convince Payne he had found his culprit. Now it was up to the policeman to winkle out admission from the lad but no matter how he tried and what angle he used Brett remained steadfast.

“Far enough but I think you did it and I will be keeping an eye on you.”

Brett lowered his eyes, his face flushed red with guilt and embarrassment while his father sat impatiently to one side stewing in silence.

“Alright Brett we will leave it there but just remember what happened to the Hutton boy.” Payne added then realised by the father’s expression it may not have been wise to have used Hutton’s demise as an example.

“I saw Miles that afternoon before he was killed.” Brett now in tears exclaimed.

“Where did you see him?” Payne asked.

“Near the swimming pool, he told me he was going to see your Sergeant.”

“Did he say why?” Payne asked, his interests rising with the information.

“Na he was always bragging about knowing Sergeant Barnes.” With this the lad closed down and would say no more.

Once Payne had gone, Bill Fraser sent his son to his bedroom and telephoned Barnes.

“Afternoon Barnes,” The gruff voice of the Sergeant came across the line.

“Its Bill has your constable arrived back yet?”

“No mate what’s wrong?”

“He was just here accusing young Brett for opening that hydrant and Brett told him Hutton was to see you the afternoon he was killed.”

“So?” Barnes barked into the receiver.

“Sid, fingers point and you were using him to encourage sales,”

“You knew that, besides it was your idea.” Barnes was becoming angered. Spying Payne returning towards the station door, he lowered his voice.

“Did you kill him Sid?” Fraser asked in a low and almost accusing voice.

“What do you think I am; I’ll talk to you later.” Barnes hissed into the receiver, hanging up as Payne entered into the building, before Fraser had the chance to rebuke him for the Constable’s treatment towards his son.

“How did you go with the Fraser kid?” Barnes asked. His face still flushed from his conversation with the father.

“He did it alright but wouldn’t admit it. I gave him a scare so maybe he will behave for a week or so.” Payne declared, returning to his desk and mountain of paper work. His mind on what Brett had told him and his eyes on the back of his Sergeant’s head. He wondered. Surely it couldn’t be. He believed Barnes to be corrupt but just a small town crook.

The Constable returned to his work and the thought of transferring somewhere closer to his home town. For this he would need his Sergeant’s support but didn’t wish to upset him at that moment. So for now he wouldn’t mention his growing suspicions, believing even if Barnes didn’t have anything to do with Hutton’s death, he surely knew about the robberies.

There was one other interesting item of local rumour holding Payne’s attention and that was a company with the title of Four Kings. The name continuously came up in conversation around town. In normal circumstances business talk would be just that but to have a so called clandestine company with unknown directors seated in a country town was rare but not covert enough to be anything but an item of interest.

Payne was also growing suspicious of Fraser and his cronies and gossip they were involved with the company purchasing many of the town’s properties. Why they would wish to do so in a dying town was beyond him. He had also heard about the reopening of the mine and the return of rail passenger service. None of which he could connect to the robberies or to the death of Hutton. For now he would keep his suspicions to himself and an eye on his Sergeant. As for his intention to transfer, it would have to wait a while. At least until, Payne smiled at his thought, the present crime rate normalised itself.

Barnes still smarting from Fraser’s conversation became agitated and paced the floor before pausing for a time at the side window, his gaze on the heat affected trees that ran along the perimeter of the station yard. Sucking in a deep lung full of hot air he held it for some time before releasing it with a rush.

“What’s the problem Sarge?” Payne enquired.

“Nothing, I’m going to the pub have to see someone, I won’t be back.

The office of Wallace and Wallace went dark as the town’s electricity supply once again failed, taking the cooling with it. Louise Todd gave a slight jump as the power to her computer failed, loosing her unsaved correspondence with a loud click. “Shit,” she softly cursed, lifting her head towards Bill Fraser entering the office while blushing from her choice of expletive.

“Good morning Mr. Fraser.” The secretary greeted; her voice as bouncy as her somewhat over exposed breasts. “Mr. Wallace is expecting you, go right in.”

Bill Fraser took little notice of her breasts. Nor did he of her long dark hair, her hazel eyes or smile that beckoned one to kiss those full red lips. Fraser noticed none of these, he had more important business. Without further speaking he showed himself into Henry Wallace’s office. He closed the door behind with an exaggerated click.

“Take a seat Bill.” Wallace offered. “I have news, some good some bad.” Wallace declared, pushing a page of paper on the desktop before him this way than that, with nervous tension.

“Well what’s the verdict?” Fraser demanded.

Momentarily Wallace ignored his associate’s directive, instead leading into the conversation with his lack of new information on the reopening of the rail services, while promising he was doing all that was possible to assure their success.

“Yes Henry, I get the message but that’s not what I’m here about.”

“No you’re not Bill and I’ve been in contact with the Brody woman, she is prepared to sell the property to you but won’t lower her price.” Wallace sighed, flicking the page of paper further away.

“Then I suppose it will have to be at her price.” Fraser complained.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Alright Henry, issue the papers and I’ll pay the bitch’s price.” Fraser agreed. Believing he must have his revenge at any price. “How long will it take?”

Wallace sucked in air, releasing it in a rush. Once again he fiddled with the single sheet of paper. Fraser made him nervous and had always done so. As children at school it was the same. Fraser barked and everyone, except for Barnes and the Brody boys, cowered.

“That’s a good question Bill, the woman is away at present, won’t be back until the end of next week; Then a few days for the papers to be transferred between here and her solicitor.” Wallace paused, seeing impatience seeping from behind Fraser’s eyes. He continued cautiously. “Vacant procession, I’d say sixty days at the most but I suppose it could be rushed through without the usual title search and other checks.”

Bill Fraser would have to mortgage his own property and most probably his business to raise the money for the Brody house but with the profit gained from Four Kings and the Brody house resale he should end up well ahead. He agreed, requesting Wallace to commence negotiations. His revenge could wait sixty days but stressed he would prefer it much sooner.

“Once again as a friend, I must ask you if you are sure you wish to go through with this transaction.” Wallace asked.

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“That you did Bill but it is a bad buy and possibly you may loose out on the deal.”

“Maybe it could be purchased by Four Kings?” Fraser suggested.

“I don’t think the others would agree to that, besides we have almost run out of available finance.”

“I must have that house.” Fraser concluded.

Sulky black clouds, almost to purple, built up on the north eastern horizon and had done so for most of the week, promising a welcome downpour but by the afternoon of each day dissipated into azure and heat that had become unbearable.

Again there were power failures, becoming more frequent as the days progressed. Firstly because of a fire at a substation, then overuse as air conditioners strained around the clock. As for the Brody house, it was just hot without the luxury of air conditioning, with Esca declaring he had the AWO system, which when asked, translated to ‘all windows open,’ and with the lack of the slightest breeze, as useful as tits on a bull.

Luke had taken to wearing nothing but a snugly fitting pair of underpants that almost covered his private parts, displaying a fuzz of blond pubic hair above the waste band, also a bulge below the fuzz that appeared to expand and deflate at will and at his rear the thin material disappeared between a set of well formed buttocks. Eventually the vision got the better of Esca bringing him to comment.

“You may as well go naked as wear those underpants.” Esca commented. “Right you are.” Luke answered removing the offending garment, immediately rasing him into full erection.

“Suppose you want me to do something about that?” Esca laughed.

The warm water felt hotter on their bodies as the boys showered. Luke massaged soap into Esca’s back in slow ponderous circles. He paused.

“Keep going.” Esca complained.

“I was thinking.” Luke washed the excess soap from his friend’s back. “My turn,” He demanded slapping Esca hard on the backside, before turning with anticipation.

Esca obliged. “What were you thinking?”

“Aren’t you tired of this town?”

“It’s getting that way?”

“Why don’t we both leave find some place cool and distant, or maybe we could go and visit Jack.”

Luke’s words slowed Esca’s back massage until completely stopping.

“You said we.”

“So?”

“If I were to leave you would come with me?” Esca’s pulse ran.

“You don’t think I’d let you go on your own.” Luke answered.

“I never thought of it, I thought maybe you were just killing time until you decided what you wanted to do or returned to your parents.” Esca was in disbelief. One of his reasons for staying as long as he had, was to be with Luke for as long as possible, yet he never thought of enquiring regarding his friend’s future plans, even when George spoke so strongly of them.

“Wherever you go I’ll be right there and if you tell me to bugger off, you know me I’ll stalk you for the rest of your life.” Luke jovially declared. Still even with the spoken word Esca could not bring himself to their true meaning and dwelt on them for some time.

Esca had been brooding all day, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Luke but experience kept him from asking what was worrying his friend. Eventually Esca’s mood developed into language but he seemed to stumble over whatever he wished to say. He would commence then pause and go on some tangent about the weather or what would George be up to or if Jack was still doing his fencing contract. At last Esca was forthright.

“Luke what is it you want most out of life?” He asked during a late hour of Friday night. There was nothing worth watching on television and their supply of beer had run dry the previous day. Lacking money they had not replenished it.

Luke sat at the kitchen table reading a Phantom comic. He refrained from answering but felt he must say something to break the lengthening silence.

“I saw John Rush yesterday.” Luke incidentally declared.

“Naked I suppose.”

“As the day he was born,” Luke paused giving a cheeky smile.

“Do you still fancy him?” Esca asked.

“Na I just like looking.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Esca repeated.

“Only one thing I suppose.” Luke spoke softly his eyes still deep within his comic. Lifting his gaze he continued. “What is it you most want?” He returned the question. Closing the comic and cocking his head to one side he winked towards Esca, who couldn’t avoid laughing.

“What do I want?” Esca paused, becoming serious. “Not a lot I suppose. I want to live simply. As the American’s say in all those dumb films, apple pie cooling in the window and all that sooky stuff.” He paused and chuckled with his eclogue. “Seriously I want someone who will share my life, my thoughts.” Another smile, “my bed, the way things are intended to be – I suppose like in the movies but it’s never like that – is it?” Life’s all lovey-dovey for the first few months, then a fart in bed is no longer funny but disgusting and then the arguments start. I guess it’s impossible to keep the honeymoon for a life time.

“Don’t know, I haven’t been around long enough and my parents aren’t a good example.” Luke answered.

“Nor mine but I’d like to give it a go for myself.”

“What marry?” Luke softly gasped.

“No I don’t think I’d go that far, I wouldn’t last a week with a woman.”

“Oh, for a moment I thought you were going straight on me.” Luke sounded relieved.

Esca stretched and yawned loudly, “bed?” He suggested.

“Too early, I think I’ll take a walk.” Luke stood to leave.

“Would you like me to join you?” Esca offered rising from his chair to follow.

“No I need to think about something.”

Luke had been gone for some time, leaving Esca to his own thoughts, which commenced to hurt so much he returned to the banal programming of the television, while remembering his Uncle’s parting words, ‘the lad loves you’ also how George declared he was jealous seeing them together and contented with each other’s company.

“If only I could be sure.” Sighing he took himself to the refrigerator and peered into its almost empty chasm. No beer, half a bottle of milk, it smelt somewhat sour, a few slices of processed cheese, two spotted carrots with the firmness of an old man’s erection, some wilted lettuce leaves and little more. Closing the refrigerator door he returned to his seat.

Hearing Luke return Esca switched off the television. Luke re-entered the kitchen and sat himself.

“Did you do your thinking. “Esca asked.

“I did.”

“May I ask?”

Luke smiled, “you want to know what I want out of life?”

“I did ask.”

“It’s simple, most of what you said but most of all I want to do it with you.”

“Do you mean that?” Esca exclaimed feeling his mood improve.

“How many times do I have to tell you – Come on lets go to bed.”

Gary would appreciate your thoughts on his story. Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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