Published: 04 Sept 2017

McDonald was back in town for a little relief and recreation, a weekend away from fencing and Awen had arranged to meet him for their usual Friday night drinking session but ran into Bishop before he could reach the hotel. Bishop appeared to be most distressed as he approached calling loudly from some distance.

“Hey I just saw Ely with Barry Fields; he had him by the hair, dragging him up the hill and had what appeared to be a baseball bat in his hand.

“Which way?” Awen quickly questioned.

Bishop caught his breath. “Towards the front through Bevin Street, I was coming back from Ian Langdon’s when I spotted him and he sure looks pissed-off.”

“Come on we’d better get there before the clot kills the stupid bugger.”

Awen commented to run into the direction of the hill, followed close behind by Bishop. Dred followed his every quickened stride, believing he would arrive to find a listless adversary overstood by his frenetic brother.

Reaching the base they could clearly see two figures silhouetted against the darkening sky close to the summit. Elyan had a good handful of mousy brown hair and was almost dragging Fields struggling towards his punishment.

“What’s brought this on all of a sudden?” Bishop puffed as they paused before climbing the hill.

“Ely’s had it in mind it was Fields who tampered with his car.”

“That was yonks back.”

“Opportunity I suppose, Fields has been away and while in town he’s always got a stack of cousins to hide behind. Come on hurry up before he kills him.” Awen shouted back to the slower Bishop. Half way up the hill Awen called to his brother but Elyan appeared to be too engrossed in his revenge to hear.

Coming close to where Elyan held Fields Awen paused, even in the fading light he could depict the anger in his brother’s face as he stood over his adversary, now kneeling, sobbing with his arms in protective mode above his head.

“Don’t!” Awen cried as Ely lifted his bat.

“Stand back brother or you’ll get one as well.” Elyan again lifted his bat as if to strike as Awen, disregarding his brother’s warning came to Elyan’s side and held his arm. “Don’t!” he repeated as muscles tightened for attack. “Look he’s pissed himself, don’t you think you’ve frightened the stupid bastard enough?”

Elyan lowered his bat but was still threatening.

“Why did you tamper with my car?” Elyan growled his voice low and controlled close to Fields’ left ear.

“I didn’t.” Fields stuttered still sobbing profusely in a whimper of bubbles and snot.

“I know you did you little weed.”

“Because you stole Stella from me!” Fields loudly admitted in a gush of hysteria.

“I stole Stella? – She couldn’t stand the sight of you!”

For a moment Barry Fields calmed, taking on a piteous expression he spoke poignantly yet surprisingly calmly, “Elyan you can have any bird you want, why did you steal Stella from me?”

Elyan once again lifted his bat and feigned a strike, “as I said she couldn’t stand the sight of you, now get up and piss off before I do knock your fucking block off and you can thank the kid, if he hadn’t turned up I would have let you have it.”

Slowly Fields rose to his feet and stood, his head bowed while tears and snot continued to stream from his face.

“Get out of here and get out of town, next time I see you I really will take the bat to you and there won’t be anyone around to save you.”

Quickly Fields departed and didn’t stop running until well away from the hill. As he did so, it was noticed that he had not only pissed but messed his clothing in his terror. “What would you have done if we didn’t arrive?” Awen asked.

“I told you he would still be living, probably broken a leg, or arm, or both something for the little bugger to think about while recuperating.” Elyan answered in a most controlled manner, grinning maliciously with the thought.

“It wouldn’t prove anything.” Awen said.

“Probably not but it may stop him from doing it again.”

Slowly the three parted from the pride of One Tree Hill. Elyan shouldering his baseball bat, Awen silently by his side with Bishop a step or two behind. No one spoke until well away and in the streets below, where Elyan lowered his bat, giving a simulated swing at an imaginary target. “Well I think that was a good night’s work.” He proudly announced.

“But it will be the end of it?” Awen asked his voice low and calculating.

“I should think so.” Elyan half turned to Bishop, opening his mouth to speak he said nothing. He wondered what Bishop was doing hanging around with Awen and why he was on the hill but deciding the answer wasn’t worth the question he departed their company towards home without further conversation.

“Come on Rol, lets go have a beer, after that I think we should get plastered.”

“Aren’t you meeting McDonald?” Bishop asked as Awen commenced to move away.

“I am but it’s about time the two of you buried the hatchet and I don’t mean in each other’s back.” Awen paused. “Come on.”

Bishop remained steadfast, “I don’t know.”

“Come on he won’t bite your head off, besides without Billings around he will be only too happy to have a fresh audience.” Awen laughed, “Someone to tell how straight his fence lines are.”

McDonald was found settled in their usual corner nursing a full beer, his expression one of isolation. The two entered into the bar and approached. “McDonald!” Awen called from distance. His friend’s head lifted expressing relief his solitude had ended.

“Bic you’re late.” McDonald griped, his eyes on Awen while disregarding Bishop standing nervously at his side.

“I know; slight trouble with the brother.”

“Hi Rodney.” Bishop greeted being his first mistake for the night in calling McDonald by his full given name. McDonald’s isolation allowed the greeting to pass without correction. He released a sharp nod but nothing more.

“I heard.” McDonald admitted.

“Heard what?” Awen asked somewhat surprised.

“Ely took to Fields and literally scared the shit out of him.”

“It happened less than half an hour back; that got around quickly.” Awen said quite astounded at the speed the news had travelled.

“Fields passed here at full pelt, screaming he was being chased by a madman and that Ely was after him with a gun. I was just arriving at the time.” McDonald explained somewhat nonchalantly.

“It wasn’t a gun, it was a baseball bat and he didn’t touch him, I was there.” Awen protested.

“So was I.” Bishop endorsed.

“Bishop?” McDonald uttered wondering why he would have been at the scene of attack but refrained from asking.

“It was Rol who let me know Ely had Field’s and was dragging him up the hill, we arrived in time to prevent Ely from bashing the shit out of him.”

“Why did you stop Ely?” McDonald growled.

“Anyway enough of Fields, I’ve asked Rol to join us for a drink.”

McDonald quickly downed the last of his beer, “Then I think it’s his shout.”

Reg Pen called Elyan to his office and closed the door. Being Monday morning it was usual to coordinate a meeting with his foremen but this time Elyan was alone and Reg appeared to be most displeased. He was fiddling and that in the man meant he had some concern. Elyan entered unannounced.

“I suppose you are wondering why I’ve called you.” Reg asked in a low and calculated tone, his eyes down turned from his son as if searching the correspondence spread across the surface of his large cluttered desk.

“I guess it’s not for a scotch on the rocks.” Elyan humoured, noticing he was alone in the office with his father.

“I’ve had Harry Fields on the telephone.”

“So the little weed went blubbing to his old man.” Elyan laughed.

“It’s no laughing matter Elyan, I have a standing in this town and I can’t have my son going about threatening people with a shot gun.” Reg took a deep breath and slowly shaking his head released it. “I don’t know; you boys will be the death of me.”

“He deserved it besides I didn’t touch him, I only threatened him with a bat, ask Awen he was there and Rol Bishop.” Elyan protested.

“What the three of you ganged up on him?”

“No they arrived before I had a chance to do anything.”

“So you didn’t have my shot gun?” Reg appeared confused.

“I don’t even have the key to the gun cupboard, it was a baseball bat.” Elyan freely admitted.

“Barry said you had a gun.”

“Barry would say anything to enhance his story and all I intended to do was break an arm – or two.” Elyan again laughed.

“That would have got you into a heap of trouble, also me.”

“Well dad it didn’t happen and I think little Barry will behave himself in the future, for a while anyway.” Elyan turned to leave but Reg forced him back.

“I want you to watch out, it isn’t only Barry you have to worry about, it’s the entire Fields family they are all bad and there is a tribe of them.” Reg warned showing more concern than he usually would. He had prior dealings with Harry Fields, who still owed for a deliver of timber some years previously. The mill was not alone in failed dealings with Harry Fields, he had more outstanding debts within the district than could be calculated but was so expert in stalling and standover tactics most avoided doing business with him altogether, or demanded payment upfront.

“I don’t think anything more will come of it.” Elyan assumed.

“I hope you’re right son.”

“You do realise it was Barry who set fire to the timber yard? Joe Stanton at the top garage told me he sold the tin of petrol to Barry that very day.” Elyan freely informed.

“I’ve already had Sergeant Pratt look into that.” Reg answered, feeling somewhat frustrated with the entire Fields family.

“And?”

“And nothing; Harry Fields said his truck ran out of fuel and he sent Barry for petrol and they must have left the can beside the road.”

“That’s a likely story, besides if they had run out of fuel, wouldn’t the can be empty.” Elyan snapped.

“Likely or not he had Harry, his uncle and two cousins to confirm it to be so, saying they only used half the petrol and I’m sure if necessary he could have had the entire Fields’ family up to and including their infirmed grandmother swear Barry was home knitting jumpers or darning socks.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” Elyan asked, noting a measure of frustration in his father’s tone.

“Nothing son, eventually he’ll slip up, Pratt’s on his case and Barry isn’t that cleaver, he may have got away with the break in at the hotel, and the fire and god knows what else but one day the whole stinking lot will collapse onto our young friend and possibly, just maybe, will bring down the rest of his crooked family.”

“Was there anything else?” Elyan asked.

“Not for now, tell the others there won’t be the usual meeting this morning and let Awen know I need to talk to him about a new order for Jim Stone out at the Junction.”

If Barry Fields or members of his abundant family were planning revenge, it was soon taken from their agenda. Barry received such a scare he left town to work, or to be more accurate laze on an uncle’s property, while Harry, driving home after a drunken night at the pub, wrapped his truck around a tree south of town, ending in intensive care with two broken legs, a fractured arm and crushed ribs. It was touch and go for a while if he would survive at all but he did so and was released in the care of his equally drunkard wife and with Harry unable to work, his upkeep had to be attained by charity from his family, so their attention was permanently diverted from their revenge.

Elyan may have proven fortunate as Harry was thinking of, as he had often, taking the law into his own hands and would have used more than a baseball bat on Elyan, whose mangled body would have been either dumped at sea or in the mangroves for the legionary crocks, without the slightest inkling of evidence to whom was the perpetrator had been. The Fields family were specialists in deviancy and it wouldn’t be the first time one of their clan avoided punishment for unlawful killing.

“Do you still want to go bush with me?” McDonald suggested.

“It could be fun but when?” Awen guided his friend through the bar doorway.

“Come next Friday but I would have to square it with dad first and you would have to swing a couple of days off work.”

Inside the two found someone had already taken their favourite table and on closer scrutiny through the haze of blue-grey cigarette smoke they discovered it to be Billings.

“What are you doing back in town?” McDonald became most animated forgetting his invited for Awen to, as he described, go bush with him. McDonald took his friends hand and held it tightly, a most unusual gesture from a man who generally avoided close contact with his fellows.

“Dad’s found a new manager for the other store.”

“Weren’t you good enough?” McDonald suggested.

“Get rooted.” Billings protested as McDonald turned to Awen.

“Your shout Bic and I’ll have a scotch,” he paused, “no this is a celebration make that a double.”

Awen returned with the drinks.

“I hear Ely had some bother with Barry the Bastard?” Billings queried.

“More to the point Barry had trouble with Ely, if Rol and I hadn’t turned up, I don’t know what he would have done.” Awen related the plot including Harry Fields’ accident and how he would be laid up for the foreseeable future, if not permanently.

“It’s called karma you know?” Billings related.

“Whose she?” McDonald asked.

“It’s not a she, its fate.”

“I don’t know about that but I do agree our arrival was good timing.” Awen corrected.

“Bad timing if you asked me. You should have left Ely to deal with Fields,” McDonald envisaged.

“Mum always says you reap what you sow.” Coming from Billings it was most profound.

“That sounds religious.” Awen questioned.

“No it’s Indian or Hindu or something like that.”

Soon McDonald became tired of listing to the saga on the Field’s family and Billing’s karma and interjected. “Never mind your karma; Bic as I said are you coming bush with me or not?”

“How long for?” Awen asked.

“Friday until the following Tuesday, it’s a small job this time, then we have a big job out with Neil Kent, building stock yards.”

“I’ll say yes but let you know for certain tomorrow.”

“What you two camping and you didn’t invite me?” Billings said displaying a degree of disappointment.

“I didn’t know you were back, besides it’s not a holiday. I will have to work.” McDonald explained and continued with Awen, “That goes for you as well Bic; you will have to earn your keep.”

“That’s fine but as I said I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

Reg Pen sat uncomfortably fiddling with his desk calendar. He didn’t appear pleased as Awen put forth his request. There was a big order coming in on the Friday and even then he would need extra hands in the stacking yard. O’Brien from Wattle Creek was building a new feed shed, needing the delivery by that weekend, also the yard was to receive a delivery of milling logs from a private plantation.

“What do you want the time off for?” Reg asked for a second time.

“As I said McDonald has asked me to go fencing with him. It will be from Friday and returning some time the following Tuesday or Wednesday.” Awen explained.

“And why does Clint McDonald need you to give him a hand?”

“He doesn’t but I haven’t had a break for near on two years and it would be a chance to do something different.” Awen was almost begging.

“You had that break recently after the fire.” Reg reminded.

“You call that a break, half the time you had me cleaning in the yard, or running errands for you.”

“Is Clint McDonald paying you for your time?” Reg asked and marked his desk calendar.

“No it’s sorta working holiday.”

“Very well but I will have to dock you the time, just because you’re the bosses son, I can’t show favouritism.” Reg growed.

“Can’t you take it off my holidays?” Awen suggested.

“What holidays? You’re a Pen; Pen’s don’t take holidays, when was the last time you saw me taking a holiday and your grandfather worked until he was sixty-two and never had a holiday or a day off.”

“Probably that is why he died young and was carried out feet first from this very office.” Awen softly answered.

Reg’s statement had somewhat deflated Awen’s argument, if he were to protest further, possibly he wouldn’t received the few days he required but he would remember his father’s derivation of what made a Pen. A Reg Pen or Grandfather Pen perhaps but it was the sixties and a new generation would decide what values to abide by. For now he gave nothing but gratitude for the chance to go with his friend and agree to the loss of wages.

“Lucy, did you hear that?” Reg called to his secretary through the open door.

“Yes Mr. Pen.” She replied in her usual high sing song voice.

“Also Lucy, would you contact Jim Coyle and Stan Tucker, ask them if they can cover the days.” Reg turned to his son, “You can have the days but remember you owe me a favour and I’m not happy about allowing you the time.”

“I appreciate it dad.”

“Alright off you go and close the door on your way out; I have a private telephone call to make.” As Awen closed the door he distinctly heard his father speak the name Anne and in a tone that was too sweat to be business.

“I’m afraid I will have to dock you this time Awen, last time he caught me out and roused me somewhat terribly.” Lucy Parker apologised.

“Doesn’t matter Lucy, I understand.”

“You have a nice break, you deserve it.” Lucy acknowledged.

“Thank you, I’m looking forward to it.”

So it was agreed Awen would have his time off but would loose wages and some time in the future would be reminded of his father’s good nature and would pay in extra time as well but that was fine and a trip away other than a weekend to Bradshaw with McDonald would be worth the inconvenience.

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