Published: 24 Sep 2020

The morning after Lewis’ visit to Charlie, came with a pleasant surprise. As he approached the night horse paddock to check on Horse he discovering she had foaled during the night and not once but had twin foals. Quickly he called Bob and Walter to come and see the birth.

“Well Lewis I’ll be buggered!” Walter declared and shook his head. “This is rare, twin foals are most uncommon and to have both born alive is even more so. Now I understand why she appeared so big.”

After breakfast Lewis went to the big house to call on Jack, who was enjoying a quiet smoke on the front verandah, his thoughts lost beyond the white picket fence, the dusty road and the flat area towards the lagoon, noticing a number of cattle making their way towards the green oases of the house garden, ‘that fence again,’ he thought as it was only the previous week he had the men rewire a good twenty yards but one rogue animal had a clever streak in finding weakness, thus bringing its mates through the break. ‘Next for the plate,’ he seriously surmised.

“Mr Thompson I have some news on that foal for the kids.” Lewis said on his approach, his face as proud as a new father.

“Has she foaled?”

“She has,”

“At last, how is it?” Jack stood and commenced to descend the stairs to check on the birth.

“All three are well.” Lewis released a joyful grin.

“All three?”

“Yes Horse had twins!”

“How is the mare, they often don’t survive duel births, nor the foals.”

“She seems fine, although Walt said one of the foals may not survive.”

“True but it has been known to happen on the occasion, only last year there was a twin birth on Tom Thumb but one did die after a couple of days, kicked by a stallion I believe.”

Jack followed Lewis to the paddock where the first born was suckling but the second was on the ground somewhat shaky yet appearing to be holding onto its fragile life.”

“The mare looks a little worse for wear Lewis; you will have to feed her up.” Jack commented on Horse.

“What about the second foal?”

“Walt may be correct he’s the expert in horse flesh, it doesn’t appear too good.”

“What should we do?” Lewis asked displaying a measure of apprehension.

“Not a lot, two choices really, put it down or let nature take its course and see what tomorrow brings, my opinion is to leave the little fellow to nature.”

Jack was used to loosing foals, carves and the like, becoming natural statistics but this birth was different he actually felt a measure of empathy towards the newborn but for now the cattle making their way towards the well trimmed house garden was more his concern. “Yes my advice is to leave them to nature; would you go get Bob and turn that lot of bullocks away from the garden before Elizabeth has a seizure.”

During the day the path to the night horse paddock was well worn as everyone came down to see the newborn, even Charlie and his crowd came by and stayed long.

“What are you going to do with three horses?” Charlie asked while admiring the twin foals as they found their legs and hour by hour both became stronger and more playful, giving credence the weaker would survive. “I’ve already given them to the boss for the kids.” Lewis answered as a clap of thunder sounded, sending the skittish foals to the safety of their mother’s side.

Everyone was so involved in the newborn they forgot about the weather and as the morning progressed the black monsoonal clouds drifted overhead and appeared more ominous than they had all month. Charlie without looking up filled his lungs with the cooling air. “Here comes your rain Lewis – Charlie wrong this time,” but even Lewis could now smell the rain on the breeze as it mixed with the dust, giving the unmistaken scent of relief.

It took most of the morning for the bulk of the storm to arrive and when it did the first instalment came like the proverbial locomotive steaming across a corrugated iron roof. Not being accustomed to foals, Lewis quickly solicited how they would stand up to the deluge but his concern was soon lessened when Walter and Jack assured him foals had been born in rain since time began and managed without human intervention.

Around lunch the rain eased and the wind died away, then after a short interval it set in and became constant, lasting throughout the night and most of the next day. Lewis took the land-rover and moved the black workers and their belongings up to their allotted quarters, although under much protest but Jack was persistent, not wanting a mob of sick men to contend with, besides it never took much of a storm to flood their usual camp site.

“Hey do you mind if I come down for a drink with you tonight?” Bob asked as Lewis dropped off the last of the natives to their new quarters.

“Sure.” What he wished to say was, why? Bob was becoming somewhat predictable with his drinking and insinuations, leaving Lewis wishing he would either give it all a rest or jump him and get it over with.

Lewis once again recalled the night Bob stayed over and his touch. Curiosity is a strange emotion and along with drinking Bob appeared to have buckets of both and if frustration were rain drops, Lewis would be flooded. There possibly was another reason for Bob’s visits, so he could do his drinking in private, away from discovery by Walter, or more relevant Jack.

After tea Lewis borrowed a large sheet of canvas from the store and using it to protect himself against the rain went to check Horse and her twins. They had wisely found the shelter at the far end of the paddock and although it was only a set of posts supporting a iron roof, was enough to protect against the rain if not the wind, then after checking on Charlie and his mob who although grumbling had settled into the new quarters, returned home to await a visit from Bob Kelly.

Opening a long neck and pouring the amber fluid into his glass, Lewis settled into an old canvas deck chair on his front verandah. Across the flat he could see the dull light of the big house and could hear the distant pulse of the generator, otherwise there was nothing but blackness and the occasional thump of a wallaby or kangaroo sounding in the inky depth of darkness. Behind him in the kitchen his carbide light burnt low giving a hissing sound as the last of the gas escaped to the burners then it went out. There was a kerosene hurricane lamp on the kitchen table but Lewis found the darkness appealing and remained settled while the steady rain played soothing music on the metal roof.

“Hey there in the dark!” The voice came out of the blackness as Bob tripped through the front gate. He stumbled and righted then staggered to the stairs. Lewis returned to the kitchen and lit the kerosene lamp.

Bob was a sight. He had red mud oozing between his bare toes and half way up his shins, while wearing nothing but shorts and a singlet.

He was soaked and appeared drunk but looked cute standing at the base of the stairs with water streaming down his body while holding his half empty scotch bottle, wearing a grin that disregarded his condition. The light from the lamp shone impishly on his face.

“You’re wet!” Lewis stated as Bob rinsed his feet in a puddle before climbing the stairs.

“And drunk!” Lewis followed as Bob reached the verandah, stripping away his shorts and singlet. Wringing out the water he hung them over a makeshift clothesline strung at the end of the verandah. Lewis supplied him with a dry towel

“Just a little,” Bob laughed.

No underpants, Lewis observed as Bob attempting to use the towel but wasn’t coherent enough to work out its ends. “You appear to be having trouble, would you like me to rub you down?”

“I don’t think so,” the answer came most positively.

“I thought you were coming down for a drink, it seems as if you have already had it.” Lewis stated shaking his head in disbelief while finding it difficult to lever his gaze from Bob’s naked body.

“Want a scotch?” Bob offered as he wrapped the towel loosely around his midriff.

“I don’t mix my drinks,” Lewis wisely advised and handed Bob a pair of his own shorts. Bob pulled them on and took another swig. “This is the bottle you got me in Georgetown – I kept it for a rainy day.” Bob held up the half empty bottle against the light and squinted, “and it’s pissing down tonight,” he laughed.

“Take a seat Bob,”

Bob gaze about there wasn’t a spare chair on the verandah.

“Kitchen,” Lewis pointed through the open doorway. Bob swaggered in, returning with an old kitchen chair. He placed it beside Lewis but sat on the floor.

“Not so far to fall from here.”

“What’s the drinking about?”

“You know Veronica,”

“Your ex, I only know her from what you’ve told me.”

“Well,” Bob paused.

“Go on it’s your story Bob,”

“She married.”

“You said you weren’t interested in her, so what do you expect?”

“I dunno it just seems strange, if it wasn’t for my parents she would have married me,” He sighed deeply and placed the bottle aside.

“Anyway you said you don’t like girls?”

“To be honest with you Lewis I don’t know what I like.” All of a sudden Bob appeared sober, “besides if you recollect I actually said I don’t understand them.”

“True you did say that,” Lewis admitted.

“In truth,” Bob paused as if searching for the correct emotion for the occasion.

“Did you want to marry her?” Lewis directly asked.

“Yes,” another pause, “No – I don’t know,” followed by silence and another swig from his bottle.

“If you wanted to marry her you should have just done so and to hell with your family, it’s your life.”

“Shit Lewis you make it sound so simple, it’s alright for you.”

“In what way would that be?”

“You don’t have an old man on ya’ back about everything.”

“What about your brother and his failed marriage?”

“That only made it worse.”

Lewis wished to ask Bob if he was gay but knew his friend would deny no matter what the truth may be and it would probably end with Bob storming back across the flat in the pouring rain, while in his condition taking a trip in a hole and break his neck.

“I think I may head across to Cairns for a time.” Bob declared sadly.

“Why Cairns I thought you liked cattle work?”

“I do but I need to get away from the gulf for a while.”

“Don’t worry Bob it will all pass.” Lewis advised.

“What would you know?” Bob angrily protested.

“Probably a lot more than you realise, I came west to escape my loss but there is one thing I did come to understand.”

“What?”

“No matter how far you go or how fast you run, the problems quickly follow.”

“Who was it?” Bob asked as the last of the kerosene brunt through the wick leaving them in darkness.

Lewis perceived that Bob had said it and not she, concluding he was for once being discrete but wondered if his friend actually knew the meaning of the word.

“Bob I was very much in love until the accident.” Lewis declared and paused. He had almost shared his secret but once again demurred towards wisdom. Bob didn’t ask further. Lewis looked at the luminous dial of his wrist watch. “It’s getting late mate and I have an early start. I don’t think you should head back across the flat in this weather.” Bob agreed.

“You know Lewis you’re not a bad bloke,” Bob gave a huff of agreement with his account.

“Coming from you that is a complement.”

“Yea not a bad bloke,” Bob repeated.

“I’ll fix the bunk.”

“What accident?” Bob eventually asked as he followed Lewis into the bedroom while fumbling his way through the dark. He stubbed his toe and yelped.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m not fucken’ alright; I reckon I broke a toe. Bob hopped about on one foot and fell.”

“Do you want a hand?”

“No,” he rubbed the hurt from his foot and fondled for the bunk, “What accident,” he repeated.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s it with you Lewis, always half saying things as if you are hiding something.”

“I assure you Bob, I have nothing to hide.”

Lewis helped Bob into bed, “you’re not going to chuck are you?”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Only asking, I can get a bucket.”

“Fuck off,”

“I’ll wake you when I’m off to set the morning’s fire, goodnight.”

“Yea,”

“Goodnight Bob,” Lewis repeated.

“Hey Lewis,”

“What?”

“You reckon I should have just married Veronica like you said and buggered the lot of them.”

“I would have if I loved her,”

“Love?”

“Yes Bob you know that emotion that almost rips your heart out of your chest when you’re apart.”

“Don’t know that feeling,” Bob admitted.

“Goodnight Bob,” – ‘I do,’ Lewis thought.

Lewis lay for a time listening to the soothing rain and during a short lull the frogs started but dissipated with the rain’s recommencement. There was a large green tree frog living in the downpipe at the corner of the house and as it croaked the call reverberated to a higher level by the pipe. This night it had a friend at the far end of the roof and they took turns in keeping Lewis awake. He quietly laughed at the situation, ‘for Christ sake find each other,’ he thought, then aligned the situation to his own. He and Bob pussyfooting around a situation without knowing what the situation may be.

‘Or am I assuming what isn’t there?’ Lewis thought.

‘Possibly Bob isn’t gay at all and I’m reading his signals wrongly.’

‘You better watch yourself Lewis,’

‘You are becoming emotionally involved and that will never do.’

Bob had been silent throughout Lewis’ thinking, without even his usual snoring.

Some time later Lewis heard stirring from across the room. Bob had risen and gone to the verandah where he could be heard urinating into the wetness of the night. A stumble back from the verandah and a self censoring shushing brought Bob back into the room. Lewis lay facing the window but could hear Bob’s breathing and it appeared close. Then he felt Bob place himself beside him in the bed.

“Bob.” Lewis whispered in nervous flight.

“Shhh.” Bob hushed then placing his arm around Lewis’ chest and was asleep.

At first Lewis was terrified but with the soft snore from Bob he allowed the cuddle to continue. He could feel Bob’s warmth and the strength of his body close to his own. He also felt the heat of Bob’s crotch resting firmly against his buttocks without any inkling of a rise but Lewis did and remained hard for much of the night. On a number of occasions Bob moved and brushed Lewis’ erection with the back of his hand or touched it lightly with a finger but never with obvious design or intention.

It was with the alarm that Lewis awoke to find he was once again alone. With first light Bob had redressed in his own damp clothes and returned back across the flat in the rain, leaving Lewis with the opinion that guilt had extracted him from his bed. Again Lewis was confused and Bob was his confuser but with each encounter he believed Bob was closer to declaring his sexuality.

Breakfast found Bob appearing sober but suffering greatly from a hangover, with Walter giving grief on his drinking. He didn’t respond, nor did he make comment on the previous night’s event.

“Are you still going to Cairns?” Lewis asked once away from the others.

“Cairns? Why would I go to bloody Cairns?” Bob declared seeming to lack memory of the previous night’s conversation. Or was it but cover for the sleeping compromise. Lewis decided to refrain from further questioning.

The rain continued as drizzle all day but that evening it stopped and with its demise came the stars, while the night smelt sweet and fresh with frogs in multitude calling to each other across the lagoon, only to be interrupted by hoards of insects and night birds, all declaring the rebirth of a new world. With the depletion of the clouds came moonlight bathing the lagoon in weak yellow, bringing Lewis to his back stairs to admire the tranquillity of the moment.

Once back inside with the light burning they came in millions, the migration of flying ants, termites, and once inside dropped their wings and headed for the woodwork. Come the morning nothing would remained but a covering of discarded wings across the bare floorboards and the realisation they were slowly working their chomping way through those very boards, the stumps and walls. Sooner or later there would be nothing left to eat and the slightest breeze would bring the lot down in a tumble like pick up sticks. Within a week the cooling effect of the rain had been taken away by the continuous heat but the grass grew green in every corner and the flat became a jade carpet while at its edges paper wildflowers grew in perfusion in yellow and white. As for the lagoon it had not only filled but once more was overflowing at the western end, while Charlie marched his lot with their few belongings back to the lagoon-side camp. The world had returned to its equilibrium.

It had now become a daily chore to saddle Flea-bitten and Whipstick for Wayne and Donald as they had taken to riding in a big way, staying away from the home paddock for most of the day. As for the Thompson kids, they had for a time become somewhat tired of riding, giving the boys the use of their horses but a not so silent jealousy erupted with young Ronald, who in no uncertain terms displayed displeasure with Whipstick being ridden by others, especially one as common as Wayne being the son of a mere housemaid. Jack soon quietened the lad with threat he would be sent back to his grandmother.

It was mail day and Lewis had been asked to ride out to the four mile windmill to check on its mechanics and with Wayne wishing to ride with him Lewis declared it was work and he would saddle Candy and Whipstick for them as he would need Flea-bitten. Wayne agreed but only if Donald rode Candy.

The windmill had seized and although there was a fair breeze would not pump. It took Lewis most of the morning to free the valve but eventually it was moving and bringing up a good supply of bore water and scalding to touch. On his return he noticed Candy and Whipstick untethered near a small waterhole to the west of the lagoon but no sign of the boys.

Thinking that there may have been an accident he rode over to the horses but couldn’t see either lad. Voices came from behind a slight rise some distance ahead, so Lewis dismounted to investigate. On approaching the rise he found the two stretched out on the ground in seemed conversation, then he notice both had their pants around their knees and were giving each other a hand job. The exchange appeared comical as their contrived conversation continued while hands moved in slow motion towards an expected climax.

Lewis crept closer and as he did Donald’s breathing increased and he was spent. Wayne released his grip and continued on himself. His breathing faltered. He gave a giggle and Donald returned the gesture.

“What are you two up to?” Lewis quietly asked approaching from behind their heads. Both quickly stood and retrieved their pants, their faces red from the shock of discovery.

“Shit!” Donald gasped while trying to tuck his still erect dick below the waste band, While Wayne turned to hide his embarrassment showing a skinny white hairless arse.

“You should know better than to leave the horses loose like that?” Lewis said showing displeasure without exposing what he had observed.

“Sorry.” Donald apologised, still attempting to hide his shame. Both boys stood with their backs towards Lewis.

“You won’t tell dad?” Donald stuttered from a very red face, while Wayne remained silent while wearing a supercilious grin as if he was enjoying their discovery.

“Tell him what?” Lewis was now playing with their heads.

“What you just saw,” Donald added; his head lowered and his voice almost nonexistent.

“It’s none of my business if you two want to tug each other off.” Lewis declared to Donald’s relief. Lewis smiled and gently shook his head in disbelief, thinking that under different circumstances and if they were a couple of years older and he younger, he may have joined in but he knew he couldn’t share such a deed, not even the thought.

“I think you should find a better place to tug off, old Charlie and his crowd hunt along this water hole all the time. What would you do if he found you with your dacks down?”

“Dunno’,” Donald mumbled.

“No you didn’t think did you?”

“I guess not,”

“If there is a next time try down by the river, you would only shock the crows down there.” Lewis turned and left while wearing a broad smile and feeling a little turned on by the encounter, ‘maybe I should find a quiet bolthole myself,’ he thought; “work to do,” he sighed as the boys mounted and cantered back to the home yard without once looking back if Lewis was following.

“Hey!” Jack called from the store office verandah as the two came at pace.” The boys pulled up their mounts to a walk. “I’ve told you before don’t gallop those horses.” Jack had an aversion towards overstressing working horses, or animals of any kind.

“We were only -,” Donald made excuse.

“I’m not blind boy, so treat them respectfully or no more riding.”

“Yes Mr. Thompson,” Wayne answered while Donald simply nodded agreement and shrunk back behind a nondescript expression, allowing Wayne’s gentle attitude to become his mouthpiece.

Once back at the station Lewis was greeted by a letter from John, his mother’s de facto. It appeared that Winnie had fallen ill and was in a bad way in the Mareeba hospital and as far as he could glean, with woman’s problems. This was the first time in Lewis’ life anyone in his family had ever been in hospital or in fact, to his knowledge had illness, so he believed he should take time and return to Mareeba and visit her.

After asking for some time off, Jack told him to take as much as he needed and even drove him to Croydon to catch a flight to Cairns. Once in Cairns he caught the railmotor back to Mareeba and was once again in the town he wished to forget.

There were mixed emotions and memories, some sad, some were the proudest most loving he had ever known. Firstly he booked a room at the Royal Hotel and then after visiting his mother, took a walk along memory lane, allowing the return of each fleeting event like episodes in some soap opera.

Standing outside of Will’s family house brought a tear, which as quickly dissipated as Will’s neighbour Mrs. Henry passed by.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Henry,” Lewis greeted the old lady with a generous smile. Slowly her recognition of Lewis returned and polite conversation occurred.

“I was a friend of Will McKee.” Lewis advised at length nodding towards the house.

“He died you know,” Mrs Henry related with sadden tone, “a tragedy for one so young.”

“Yes I know.”

“I’m afraid the McKee’s are no longer here, after Will’s death they sold everything and went south – I do see his younger brother around now and then and his sister is nursing at the hospital.”

“I haven’t met the brothers.” Lewis admitted as Mrs. Henry excused lest she be late for the shops.

Ashley’s house brought a choke to Lewis’ throat as it was there he and Will had played house while Ashley was away in Sydney and planned in great detail to travel to Melbourne together. It had changed. The hedge had gone as had most of its garden. What once appeared green and shady now stood naked in the hot Mareeba sun. Lewis wished to knock on its door and ask for permission to refresh his memories but decided memories are best left as that and not destroyed by such a changing world.

It was the cemetery at Will’s grave beside the elaborate stone the family had placed, that brought about Lewis’ greatest grief and for the first time since he left Mareeba the tears flowed freely, while his heart felt it was tearing its way from his chest. He had so much to say to his departed friend but could say nothing.

“Will I still love you,” He finally declared softly as he walked away.

That night Lewis went to the Royal hotel bar and crept into his favourite corner.

“Isn’t Brian on tonight?” Lewis enquired from the stranger behind the bar approached, his long hair fell about his face almost covering his vision; pushing it from sight he spoke.

“He left for Cairns last month.” The barman divulged.

“Oh.”

“When his uncle sold the pub he couldn’t get along with the new owner – he calls in now and then do you want to leave a message?”

“No it’s okay.” Lewis drank deeply from his beer, realising he no longer belonged to the town. It was now a sad town full of strangers whom he didn’t know, or had wish to become acquainted with.

The following day after visiting his mother and ascertaining that she was on the mend he went to see if the one constant in Mareeba remained without change. Walking past the Royal he peered up at the verandah of Loves building, where so many years previous he had discovered that his dick had use other than for pissing. It had been a hot afternoon and after rubbing it a few times he noticed it rose to his strokes, then without warning it convulsed sending an incredible sensation throughout his body, which commenced an act that would continue throughout his days. Eventually the convulsions went from dry to wet as puberty arrived. He also remembered hurrying back to the hostel to teach his peers his new experience, learning most of them had already discovered such pleasure.

Lewis climbed the rear stairs of Loves building and boldly knocked on the flimsy flywire door. Moments later it opened to display a woman of ample proportions, whose face resembled a road map of Italy, a happy road map at that as the lines of age appeared to suit her.

“Yes dear?” She greeted from behind a full length sky blue apron, doused with cooking flour.

“I was looking for Gladys King.” Lewis declared with disappointment.

“She moved out love but is down past the Graham in Stanley Street. Number Twenty-Two I think.”

Lewis thanked the woman and headed for Stanley Street.

Twenty-Two had to be Gladys King’s abode, it had her traits. The path leading to an almost polished front door was swept so clean one could eat from it. No leaf would dare drop to its surface. The shrubs were clipped to perfection and the house appeared to be locked in a pristine halo of cleanness.

Lewis followed the well swept path with trepidation as if afraid to create a disturbance to its exactness. He knocked softly, moments later the door opened displaying Gladys in all her cleaning glory, apron from chest to knees while her hair sheltered beneath a souvenir of Queensland scarf and bright pink latex gloves, almost to the elbows.

“Hello love,” She greeted without surprise as if it were an every day occurrence for Lewis to come knocking on her door. She invited him in and within seconds he was seated with a cup of steaming tea and a plate of home made biscuits.

“Your mother’s in hospital,” she advised.

“I know I have been visiting her.”

“Where are you these days, I hear you are working out in the gulf country?” she asked. Lewis agreed and told Gladys about his work and station life which collectively extended to three sentences. Then Gladys took ownership of the conversation giving an extended account of her ailments, of her husband Tom’s lack of work and how much her son Timmy had accomplished with his studies. Lewis did a quick mental calculation and knowing there was a ten year gap between them surmised Timmy’s age.

“Suppose Timmy would be eleven now?” he asked.

“Tim!” She declared haughtily, mimicking her son’s often declaration, “he doesn’t like Timmy he’s Tim now.” She paused, “No he turned twelve last month and loudly proclaimed to be a teenager.”

“I thought you had to turn thirteen to be a teenager?” Lewis questioned.

“So does everyone but Tim is adamant and won’t have any of it. No he’s a teenager and that’s the end of that argument.”

Once again Lewis felt the winds of change breeze across his memories bringing to realise his adopted hometown had left him behind and didn’t respect his homecoming, he had become a stranger in his own town, appearing only Gladys was constant.

The front door opened and closed with a loud thud, relating someone’s displeasure.

“That will be Tim now, I sent him to the shops,” On entering the room he immediately recognised Lewis and offhandedly greeted him. Lewis accepted his rudeness as another constant.

“How’s school?” Lewis asked as Tim roughly dumped the shopping bag onto the kitchen table.

“Holidays,” he declared while opening the refrigerator like some scavenging seagull. He found something of interest which disappeared into his mouth before it could be recognised.

“Do you have a horse?” Tim asked while searching for more food.

‘The brat has changed,’ Lewis thought, ‘he’s even fatter,’ he smiled.

“I have three, a mare and two foals.” Lewis declared with pride.

“I hate horses; do you have a car?” Tim enquired boorishly.

“No,”

“Gotta’ go mum see ya’ Lewis,” Tim called from halfway along the passage towards the front door.

“Where are you going Timmy?” Gladys enquired.

“Its Tim mum, I’m going over to Ronnie’s.” Then with the slamming of the door he was gone.

“Lovely boy.” Gladys said with pride while giving a slight start with the door’s slamming.

‘Brat,’ Lewis thought but verbally agreed with Gladys’ account.

Lewis had been visiting his mother in hospital each afternoon and by the fourth she appeared to be well on the mend and given the all clear to be released into John’s care. John had been visiting her twice a day and was staying with a relative who lived in walking distance of the hospital.

Seeing his mother was on the mend Lewis had arranged to take the Tuesday train back to Forsayth where he would meet the mail car on the Wednesday. That gave him two more days in Mareeba and his visit during the afternoon coincided with that of John, who enquired what he would be doing before his return. Lewis related he would catch the train up to Atherton and visit on old friend.

“Why don’t you take my van, I won’t be using it until we are ready to go home?” John suggested.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” John answered and threw Lewis the keys.

Lewis soon rediscovered the heights of the Tableland, where instead of visiting anyone he enjoyed the drive but everywhere reminded him of Will, although instead of his usual ache he had a feeling of comfort and well being. He drove for most of the afternoon through Atherton to the Lakes and Milla Milla; to Malanda then back through Herberton. By the time he returned through Atherton he had made up his mind to leave Gilbert Downs and return to the Tablelands although not to Mareeba but had no conception when, or what he would do.

On his final visit to Winnie he related his intentions but when she offered him to come to stay in Yungaburra with her and John while he decided his future, his answer was maybe. He had become accustomed to his independence and in the wisdom of Ashley that would be a back step and one should never relive the past as the future had more than enough to provide happiness.

The final day before he caught the Forsayth train he once again visited Will’s grave, where he stood in silence giving memory to the good times and realising that no matter how he tried, they were only memories and not a substance to build a future upon. Ashley was correct.

Once again in town and heading for the station he ran into Brian, the once barman from the Royal, coming off the morning’s railmotor from Cairns. Brian has recently travelled to Townsville and chanced upon Ian in the store where he was assistant manager. That night Brian had been invited to dine with Ian and Liz and had accepted the invitation.

Although he once fancied Liz, he now had a change of heart as she was quite cynical, while at every opportunity henpecked Ian who would only reply, yes dear.

Lewis enquired if Liz asked after him but soon found it to be in the negative, as she was too busy bragging of her pregnancy and what she was to call the baby. “I bet it wasn’t Lewis,” Lewis surmised with a suspecting grin.

“No she changed her mind half a dozen times before I departed. Ian saw me out and gave a long sigh before apologising.”

“She can be a little difficult,” Lewis said.

“Difficult and to think I fancied her.” Brian gave a smirk then with enthusiasm announced his own engagement.

“Congratulations,”

“It will be in the spring, Silvia wants a spring wedding.” Brian’s tone dulled somewhat as he thought of Liz’s attitude. Surely it wouldn’t happen to him as Silvia was more accommodating.

“Spring, no such thing up here, is she a local girl?”

“No Cairns, her old man manages Bulimba brewery.”

“Then it will suit your work, from barman to brewer.”

“It’s a sober family; I don’t think I’ll be sampling the product to often.”

“Wouldn’t that be like having a vegetarian as a butcher?” Lewis suggested.

Brian gave a light chuckle, “I like your comparison but no I was never a heavy drinker anyway. By the way your cousin did ask about you, she wanted to know what the story with you and Will was all about.”

“What did you tell her?” Lewis felt his cheeks flush.

“Nothing, only that anything coming from Trevor Davies wouldn’t hold much credence. She did appear somewhat disappointed with my answer.”

“True he wasn’t the most pleasant person.” Lewis then excused as his Forsayth connection was ready to depart.

Gary’s stories are all about what life in Australia was like for a homosexual man (mostly, before we used the term, “gay”). Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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