A sequel to ‘At the Turning’

Published: 16 Aug 2018

Ralph was quiet during the Cairns leg of their trip to visit his cousin and seemed somewhat nervous once in Cairns proper, saying it reminded him too much of Townsville and his childhood but guaranteed it would not hinder his progress.

Wayne needed to collect a number of items from his unit and as he parked Ralph said he would wait in the car but Wayne talked him into viewing the unit, the lad reluctantly agreed but didn’t have any lasting comment. “Modern,” Ralph said, “practical” he added then he nodded in agreement with his observations.

“Is that all you have to offer?” Wayne asked.

“Very modern and practical,” he joined his simple statements into one not so flattering sentence.

“I guess from you that is a complement, do you see anything we may need back at the farm?” Wayne asked as he collected more clothes for his extended stay.

Ralph cast his eyes around the unit but couldn’t see anything interesting. “Too much electricity,” he declared viewing the multitude of items of entertainment, all snugly fitting into their proper places, leaving clear surfaces and uncluttered space.

“Watch this,” Wayne pressed a tab on a remote control and the doors on a cupboard gently folded away displaying an oversized television screen.

“Huh,”

“Why the huh?”

“I can’t see why someone couldn’t walk across the room and do that.”

“Also this,” Wayne repeated and another tab lowered the lights, then another changed their colour. “Mood lighting,” Wayne explained.

Ralph appeared unswayed. Yet another button and music appeared to come from every corner of the unit, “sensurround,” Wayne bragged and with a final button turned down the music, then off.

“You don’t appear impressed.”

“I couldn’t live here it’s too claustrophobic too sterile it hasn’t any soul.”

“I’m beginning to agree with you. Come on I’m ready let’s get going.”

“Wait on, there is some young fellow seated on the grass under a tamarind tree holding a cardboard sign.” Ralph pointed through the sliding balcony doors towards the verge along the sea front directly across from the unit.

“He was also there when I came back from Yungaburra.”

“What do you think he’s about?”

“Unemployed, homeless the usual I should think.” Wayne answered.

“What does his sign read?” Ralph asked while feeling concern for the young fellow as he wouldn’t be any older than Ralph himself.

“I thought his message was somewhat confronting and not lending towards acquiring help.”

“Why do you say that?”

“If I recollect correctly it reads, tried everything, no offers; I want work and will sit here until someone helps me or I am arrested for vagrancy – or something like that,” Wayne related.

“Possibly we could help.”

“How, do you need assistance in your vegie patch?”

“No what I was leaning towards, with your contacts you may be able to suggest something.” Ralph was feeling his heartstrings plucked.

“My connections were mostly through Louise and I can’t see Jack helping, he would tell the kid to get of his arse and do something with his useless life,” Wayne unsympathetically answered; “but I will give the kid full marks for his boldness.”

On departing the unit Ralph marched up to the young fellow and commenced conversation. Wayne reluctantly followed close behind.

“What’s your story?” Ralph asked.

The kid lowered his signage and raising his hand to his eyes against the glare he answered, “obvious isn’t it?” and pointed towards his sign, believing he was once again to be accosted.

“What’s your name?” Ralph asked as Wayne arrived.

“Mark Fleming,”

“You should be careful there have been a number of muggings along this end at night.” Wayne warned.

“I don’t have anything to steal, except my life.” The kid response came as memory of Ralph’s once answer to Wayne.

“Where are you living?” Wayne asked.

“Where I am seated.”

“What work have you applied for?” Wayne asked.

“You name it but I don’t have a good education or any experience. I spent last night in the clink but they tossed me out this morning, warning me not to return here but here I will stay until someone is kind enough to offer something, anything.”

“What about unemployment benefits?” Wayne asked.

“They won’t help,” the kid grumped.

“Why is that?” Wayne asked.

“Simple, my parents are quite wealthy and I’m expected to live of their money.”

“So?”

“I don’t measure up to my father’s expectations and he chucked me out but social services won’t accept that.” The kid obviously became impatient with the conversation. He once again lifting his sign and turned away.

“Why did your parents chuck you out?” Wayne asked.

“Somewhat personal, my lifestyle preference didn’t help.”

“Drug addiction,” Wayne accused with expectation.

“No I’m a faggot now you know the lot and please leave me be,” the lad with developing tears snapped at Wayne.

“I can’t help you with work,” Wayne withdrew his wallet and offered money; “take it for food.”

“No I don’t want charity, I need work.” The kid was adamant.

“Come on Ralph we have to be on our way.” Wayne pressed and commenced to return to his vehicle.

“Sorry,” Ralph apologised.

“Don’t be – tell your mate I apologise for refusing his money but I am desperate and a hand out won’t help long term, I may as well sit here and starve than have the occasional feed.”

Once they were out of Cairns and into the tropical forest that hung over the Kuranda range like a long green curtain, life once more returned to Ralph and when Wayne parked at the top lookout he gazed for an age at the dotted specks below that were the houses of the Cairns’ suburbs and the ocean stretching out to Green Island and beyond.

“What do you think of that?” Wayne asked, pointing at the view before them.

“I like it, better than Townsville’s Castle Hill lookout.” He had seen the ocean many times before but from half way up the Kuranda range it appeared to stretch for eternity until eventually merging with the sky in a grey haze, “I could live up here; build a humpy right here at the lookout,” he suggested as they drove away towards the Tablelands.

“They wouldn’t let you, it’s a national park.”

“I was speaking metaphorically.”

“Big word for a little fellow.” Wayne laughed.

“I have plenty of big words but don’t often use them.”

“You can’t wear them out you know.” Wayne jest.

“No but people think you are too smart for your breeding.”

“We are all bred the same?”

“True but there are a lot of folks out there that don’t agree with you, take Verrocchi for instance.”

“I would rather not.” Wayne answered. As he spoke a gondola from the Cairns Kuranda Skyrail passed directly over their heads, “What was that?” Ralph gasped and involuntary ducked his head inside the vehicle, believing it was heading straight at them. Moments later it disappeared among the tall forest trees.

“It’s the Skyrail.”

“I’ve heard of it, where does it go to?”

“It travels from Smithfield north of Cairns to Kuranda, would you like a ride on it?”

“Maybe but it appears to be a long way up, what happens if it breaks down?”

“Good question, oddly I’ve never been on it as somehow when you live next to something you don’t seem to appreciate it.”

“Not even with Louise?”

“No not even with Louise, there isn’t a bar or restraint on a gondola.” Wayne made light.

“Surly she isn’t that bad.” Ralph gave the girl credibility.

“Well almost.”

“I was thinking,” Ralph quietly put forth after some period of quietness.

“About?”

“Mark.”

“The kid back on the Esplanade?” Wayne asked.

“Yes do you think he is gay? He doesn’t look gay.”

“He said so, besides what does a gay bloke look like?” Wayne gave a smile. Truthfully he couldn’t answer Ralph’s question as like his friend, except for Jeremiah, Wayne had never knowingly met anyone who was so and Jeremiah was hardly a candidate for epitome.

“I guess effeminate.” Ralph suggested.

“I couldn’t say.”

“I feel for him; I would have liked to help.” Ralph was obviously distressed by the lad’s misfortune.

“You managed from an early age without having to wear a sign.” Wayne inferred.

“Maybe,”

“I can’t rightly say, I’m sure something will come along in time.” Wayne concluded.

Passing through Kuranda Wayne spoke, “what would you like to ask your cousin?”

“I haven’t much thought of it, I guess I’ll just listen.”

“Are you nervous?”

“More apprehensive I would say.”

“Another big word from a little fellow.”

Reaching Mareeba Wayne pointed out where his cousin Bradley lived, believing by admitting he also had relations it may help Ralph accept his own but the lad remained unresponsive, although he did like crossing over the Barron Bridge having Wayne park close by so he could walk back for a better viewing of the river.

“I like rivers,” Ralph admitted as they returned to the vehicle.

“I’ve never thought of them as anything but waterways and something you have to cross over.”

“Yes but they are all different having their own power and sounds. The way the water rushes over rocks, falls into ponds. Even the Tully River with its deep dark channel and silence as it passes has its own wonder, allowing you to create your own sound.”

“That is very poetical.”

“Don’t you like poetry?” Ralph asked.

“Like the sound of running water I’ve not thought much about it. Do you like poetry?”

Ralph laughed “only my own creations, I find the classics a little stuffy.”

“Do you write poetry?” Wayne asked from a long held belief the art of verse was somewhat effeminate, remembering being forced to learn stanza after stanza of the stuff while at school and only retaining the dirty ditties of the school yard, ‘the boy stood on the burning deck,’ he thought but quickly returned to the conversation in hand.

“No not poetry as such, mostly pictures and sounds in my head, its mental poetry without actual words. When you spend most of your time alone you become self-sufficient for entertainment and I guess you do too much thinking.

Somehow Ralph’s appreciation of nature and beauty didn’t appear to be in the least effeminate, the lad could explain a picture perfectly without using flowery words or soppy inclinations and now the lad’s simplicity and honesty were opening Wayne’s eyes to a part of his own nature he hadn’t realised existed.

Stephen Henderson had suggested they meet at the pub but Wayne believed Ralph may not be ready for a crowd, especially in a strange environment and arranged to meet at his cottage and could not but wonder how Ralph would handle the situation.

“I like the tablelands,” Ralph admitted as they arrived at Wayne’s cottage.

“You haven’t seen much of it as yet.”

“Maybe not but I like the coolness and there is a different green, here the hills are more like picture book meadows and the forest appears more ordered.”

“I’ve never looked at it like that but I think I can see where you are coming from.” Wayne agreed.

“Yes I could even settle here.”

“You said the same of the range look-out.”

“Yes but that was only for the view and I guess anyone could become tired of a single view and it would be a little difficult to change it.”

“You can live here if you want to.” Wayne offered as he parked the car.

“Do you own this house?” Ralph showed a measure of surprise.

“I have three houses here in Yungaburra, two in Atherton also in Mareeba and three more in Cairns, other than my unit.” Wayne laughed. “Oh I almost forgot two shops in Cairns as well.” The humour then evaporated from his voice, realising he appeared as if he were bragging but need not have been concerned as there wasn’t any number of houses or bundles of money that could impress Ralph. Besides he couldn’t understand the meaning of wealth, or why civilized men would work themselves into early graves to obtain it.

“No I think I like the farm more but have you heard the story of the young surfer?” Ralph asked of Wayne as they entered into the cottage.

“No can’t say I have but knowing you, I am sure I am about to.” Wayne jested, dumping his bags onto the small kitchen table.

“Here Goes – there was this young surfer fella’ who had nothing to do but surf all day, enjoying the sunshine and the simple life.”

“Where did this fellow surf?” Wayne cut in.

“Never mind where he surfed, somewhere down south I suppose, possibly Surfers Paradise, I continue, one day he was sitting under a coconut tree enjoying the view when this old codger drove up and asked him what he was doing.”

“Do they have coconut trees down south?” Wayne questioned somewhat mischievously.

“I don’t know and it doesn’t matter, it could be any tree, possibly it was a ficus – should I continue?”

“Go on.”

“The young fella’ says surfing and watching the waves. Don’t you work? The stranger asked. No just surf. Then the stranger asked him what he did for food and the surfer said I catch a fish. The answer surprised the stranger who said, why not catch two fish and sell the second. Then catch more and more and corner the market, then buy the trucks that take the fish to market and maybe buy the marked as well.”

“What sorta’ car did this stranger drive?”

“Doesn’t matter, he was rich I guess a Jaguar or something, do you want to hear it or not?”

“Go on but where is the punch line?” Wayne asked believing the story may go on until midnight.

“It’s coming – then the stranger concluded, with all that hard work after thirty years or so you would become like myself, rich enough to just sit around under a tree and enjoy yourself. – finished.” Ralph concluded.

“Cute.” Wayne declared, “I suppose I’m the old codger and you are the young surfer eh?” he added.

“Na you could never be placed in that category, you are just Wayne and I don’t think you will ever be anything else, besides you’re not that much older than I am.” Ralph stated.

“You know Ralph you’re not a bad bloke and if I ever find that bastard stepfather of yours, I’ll knock his flaming block off.”

Ralph smiled at the suggestion as he explored the small cottage. There was a small kitchen and sitting room with two bedrooms leading down a passage with the combined bathroom with toilet at its end. One bedroom was filled with old furniture while the second had a double bed but not much else.

“For you Wayne this is somewhat primitive.” Ralf commented after finishing his inspection.

“I was going to renovate but somehow I like it as it is. There is a Television in the lounge if you like.” Wayne offered.

“Na.”

“Do you want a television down the farm?”

“Na, maybe one day when I’m old and can’t walk,” Ralph added and stood at the bedroom door surveying the double bed.

“Yes that’s another problem, there is only one bed and if you don’t mind sharing it.” Wayne’s suggestion sounded more of an apology.

“I don’t mind.” Ralph admitted softly then returned to the kitchen declaring it was his turn to prepare their meal.

“I could have the couch and you the bed.” Wayne continued apologetically.

“I said I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Wayne again continued while receiving a most disapproving glance from the lad.

“I’ve brought cold meat and salad.” Ralph said as he retrieved a number of containers from an Esky cooler and placed them on the kitchen table.

“Fine but I thought we may have a counter meal at the pub.” Wayne suggested.

“I don’t think we would have the time, Stephen will be here soon.”

During their meal Ralph once again appeared concerned and drifted away from the conversation.

“What’s the matter?” Wayne asked.

“I was thinking of that kid on the Esplanade.”

“He has really got you stirred up.”

“He has rather.”

Wayne reached for his telephone, “what time is it?” he asked.

“Just past four-forty why?”

Wayne didn’t answer as he punched in a telephone number.

“Hello; is Michael Grogan in his office.”

“My name is Wayne Jenkins.”

“No Sue, I don’t have an appointment, if you don’t mind just mention my name I am sure he will talk to me.”

It was some time before Grogan answered the call, while Ralph sat quietly to one side in wonder what was going on.

“Michael.”

“I’m fine but I have a favour to ask of you.”

“No nothing about Louise. Have you seen her?”

With that Wayne became silent as Grogan itemised all his encounters with Louise and hers with others. Eventually Wayne was permitted to press his favour.

“Michael there is some young fellow sitting on the Esplanade in front of my unit and looking for work.”

“No it’s a long story and I believe him to be genuine,” Wayne flashed Ralph a look of – this is on your head mate.

“No I don’t know him but as I said speaking to him he appears genuine. Do you think you could find him work at the brick factory?”

“You do need staff – great. Could you at least approach the lad and listen to his story?”

“You could, I owe you one.” Wayne terminated the call and turned to Ralph. “That is the best I can do, the rest is up to the kid.”

Stephen Henderson arrived a little later than suggested and by the smell of his breath had been at the pub to acquire a measure of Dutch courage. Why he would need such courage Wayne could not figure as on their first encounter Stephen appeared to be quite gregarious but then again they had both had quite a few drinks on that night.

“Is he here?” Stephen asked he voice almost a whisper.

“Sure come in, Ralph’s eager to meet you but remember I haven’t told him about his mother’s passing as yet.”

Stephen entered and was shown to the lounge where Ralph was seated quietly reading an old comic found while investigating the second bedroom. He stood; his face apprehensively turned down.

“Ralph this is your cousin Stephen.” Wayne introduced.

“Ralph.” Stephen greeted and nodded.

“Stephen.” Ralph lifted his head and answered. Stephen smiled and offered his hand. It was taken and the ice commenced to melt.

“You two make yourselves acquainted and I’ll get us some drinks.” Wayne suggested; “are you hungry?”

“No I have only now come from a counter meal at the pub.”

“Ralph has made some,” Wayne paused and laughed, “horderves.”

“They are only things on bickies, nothing fancy.” Ralph protested.

“We call them horses-doovers.” Stephen corrected.

“Whatever they are called, things on biscuits, horses-doovers they are nice, I’ve already helped myself.” Wayne answered.

“Wayne, I understand why you thought you may have known me, we do look similar,” a pause and Stephen continued, “except I’m better looking of course.” They both laughed as Wayne served the drinks, “You know Ralph you have a herd of relations spread around the Tablelands, so how would you like to meet them all?” Stephen offered.

“Maybe someday but let me get used to the idea first; have you ever heard from my mother?” Ralph asked out of left field. Stephen flashed a glance towards Wayne, remembering his cousin had not yet learned of his mother’s passing, Wayne released a subtle frown. Taking a deep breath Stephen had nowhere else to go but to lie.

“I don’t hear from the Townsville lot at all, maybe my mother has had contact.” This was true, still the lie was obvious and Ralph picked up on it but didn’t take his question further.

Twelve-thirty and they were out of beer but the alcohol had done its duty and loosened both Stephen’s and Ralph’s conversation, bringing Ralph to understand he wasn’t alone in the world. Stephen finished his last drink and with a deep elongate breath it was time to depart company, promising they would meet again but next time he would have Ralph meet the rest of the family. Again Ralph half-heartedly agreed to do so but it would be far into the future.

With farewell’s offered and unsupported promises made Stephen eventually departed.

“What do you think of your cousin?” Wayne asked while clearing away empty bottles and glasses.

“He appears to be a nice enough bloke but has somewhat done my head in.” Ralph seriously admitted.

“You don’t like him?”

“I didn’t mean that, more the thought of all those uncles and cousins I didn’t know existed.”

“You must have had cousins back in Townsville?” Wayne supported.

“Some I guess, yet it was so long ago they are forgotten faces and any family connection is almost forgotten.”

“Give yourself time; you will grow to like the idea.” Wayne hopefully promised.

“I suppose so, as for Stephen there is something about him.”

“What would that be?”

“I’m not sure; I’ll have to think about it.” Ralph sighed and gave a wide yawn.

“Bed,” Wayne suggested and led the way to the dimly lit bedroom, “What side of the bed would you prefer?”

“Don’t mind, I’ve never shared a bed with anyone before.”

“Tell you what, you have the bed and I’ll take the couch.” Wayne again offered, feeling somewhat coy towards sharing.

“No I am sure we can share the same bed, I’m just a little shy on it.”

“Shy – you Ralph Matthews, Shy?”

“Well you know what I mean.” Ralph protested.

Wayne admitted it would also be a new experience for him, as he had not shared his bed with another male since visiting cousins when he was nine. That being a chaotic display of pillow fighting, ghost stories and much giggling until threats were issued, if the noise continued some unnamed lad would spend the remainder of the night in the hen house.

“I usually sleep naked but for you I’ll leave on my shorts.” Wayne suggested as he slowly removed his jeans.

“I’m not wearing shorts.” Ralph freely admitted.

“I can lend you a pair if it concerns you.” Wayne offered.

“No I don’t have a problem sleeping naked but if doing so concerns you.”

“Tell you what Ralph, I’ll get into bed and you turn off the light and it won’t matter if you have shorts on or not. I won’t know, besides I’m too tired to care.”

Ralph illogically agreed and under the cover of darkness was quickly into bed.

A period of silence both lay aware of company without comment, while sifting through the night’s conversation but more so Ralph, attempting to recollect the names of uncles and others, where they resided and if belonging to his father’s or mother’s family. It appeared they were all belonging to that of his father, while attempting to ascertain the lineage from some distant Henderson to eventually become Matthews but always his thought returned to a single lingering question. Eventually he asked.

“Wayne, why do you think Stephen lied when I asked him if he had heard from my mother.” Ralph’s voice came low and soft. It was issued at that moment when Wayne’s mind was commencing its spin into the deep well of sleep. Rolling onto his back he stared into the darkness to where the ceiling would be.

“What makes you think Stephen lied?” Wayne asked.

“It was obvious.”

“Why obvious?”

“I know how to read a lie when it’s issued.” Ralph offered with confidence.

Wayne was now wide awake and in a quandary. Should he also lie or tell his friend of his mother’s passing. Knowing Ralph uncanny ability to read people’s mood and character if he were to lie, even to protect, Ralph most probably would see through it.

“Ralph Stephen didn’t lie,” Wayne answered, “I lied.”

“What do you mean?” Ralph appeared confused.

“I’m afraid your mother has passed away and I told Stephen not to mention the fact.” Wayne paused, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry Ralph.”

“When?”

“That I don’t know.”

“How did you know?” Ralph’s voice sounded low and calculated.

“Biff told me and we both thought it wasn’t the right time to let you know and I told Stephen not to say anything; sorry mate it wasn’t my position to keep it from you.” Wayne apologised.

“That’s alright I understand your reason but it has come as a shock.”

“Are you mad at me?” Wayne asked.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Wayne offered and rolling to his side placed his hand onto Ralph’s shoulder and lightly massaged.

“I’ll be alright once it sinks in. You know Wayne I had a million questions to ask her and now I will never have the chance.” There was a slight choke in Ralph’s voice then a long sigh.

“If it helps you in any way, I lost my parents when I was young and I never got to ask them those questions either.”

“I guess it is the way of things.” Ralph simply quoted, “do you know how it happened?”

“No, Biff didn’t say and I thought it better for her to tell you in her time.”

“I should have contacted her but I couldn’t – I couldn’t let Bob know where I was,” Ralph ruefully admitted.

“I hope you don’t blame yourself.”

“No but under different circumstances I wish I had been there.”

Then there was silence.

Wayne couldn’t sleep, he felt guilt for Ralph’s sadness and lay on his side his eyes wide to the darkness and his mind set on his friend’s emotions.

“Are you awake?” Ralph asked softly from behind.

“Yes.”

“I can almost hear you thinking.”

“You must have good ears Ralph.”

“I’m alright, really,” placing his arm across Wayne’s chest Ralph moved his body into Wayne’s back.

“Do you mind?” He softly requested.

“No.” Wayne answered as he felt Ralph’s heat and nakedness along the length of his body. He didn’t mind and the closeness allowed him to forget about Ralph’s stress now he could sleep.

The following day Ralph remained silent on his mother’s passing, yet it was more than obvious it remained foremost in his thoughts, also nothing was expressed about their closeness on the previous night. Stephen Henderson returned after breakfast to once again say goodbye and assure Ralph he must meet the rest of the family, to which Ralph once again agreed but when he had time to take it all in, admitting it was difficult to go from being the only one in the family to realising a hoard of relations in such a short time.

On their return journey and seeing he didn’t need to visit Cairns, Wayne took an alternative route to the coast. The Palmerston was the most southern road with the steepest incline but here the jungle was thicker and cooler and hugged the road’s bends like a green overcoat.

Again Ralph was intrigued with the coolness of the mountains and the richness of its rain forests, also the bird calls appeared to be different and there were more ferns, with moss and epiphytic plants growing in almost every tree but no great river gorge to follow as with the Kuranda access.

“How did you enjoy the trip?” Wayne asked as the road levelled out into the cane field’s close by Innisfail.

“Very interesting,” Ralph simply answered.

“Interesting – and what part did you find interesting?”

“It all I suppose but most of all meeting my cousin.”

“What was interesting about your cousin?”

“Dunno suppose the fact that we are actually related, like two small saplings from some ancestral undefined tree.” Ralph smiled.

“I’ll take you back when you’re ready.” Wayne promised and Ralph agreed but enforced when he was ready.

“As I said last night there is something different about Stephen.” Ralph said wrinkling his brow.

“What would that be?”

“Umm I can’t say but his body language is somehow different.”

“I did say I thought he was gay but I could be wrong.”

“Yes that’s what it would be but what brought you to that conclusion?” Ralph asked surprised Wayne could be so astute.

“You’ve already asked me that question.”

“Oh have I?”

“Possibly like one of your feelings eh Ralph?”

“He seems to drink a lot.”

“I guess there isn’t much else to do in a small town. How do you feel about the news on your mother?”

“A little like being cut off from my childhood, as if the only connection to Ralph Mathews the kid has been whipped away.” Ralph frowned and softly bit his lip – what town is this?” Ralph avoided further dialogue on his mother’s demise as they entered through the outskirts of a town.

“It’s Innisfail, we passed through on our way up but further towards the sea.”

“Oh I didn’t recognise it.”

“Would you like to stop for coffee or something, there is a good deli in town.”

“I’m alright but if you want to.”

“Wayne continued without stopping.

As they passed the Federation Bay general store they spied Biff who was once again sweeping leaves away from the entrance of her shop.

“I want to ask Biff something, do we need anything.” Wayne asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Milk?”

Ralph didn’t answer.

“I’ll get some anyway.” Wayne bounded out of the vehicle and met Biff on the footpath.

“Ask Biff if she needs any vegetables, I’ve got cabbage, beans and carrots.”

“Did you hear that?” Wayne asked, joining with Biff at her door.

“I heard,” she called to Ralph, “I have plenty at the moment thank you young fellow.”

“How did the trip up to visit the cousins go?” Biff enquired while parking her straw broom behind the shop door and waving towards Ralph. He waved back.

“Tell you next visit, hey Biff I’ll have a carton of milk and an answer.”

“What would that be?” She handed the carton of milk across the counter and took payment.

“Where is the local cemetery, it can’t be that small one near the old Church? I meant to ask you last visit but Verrocchi sort of waylaid me.”

“No that has been disused since the town was known as McBride’s Point, it’s more a tourist attraction now and the church is a museum.”

“How do I find the new one?”

“South road, about three kilometres out of town you turn off at the tip road then the first right, why’s that?”

“I thought I’d check to see if my Great Uncle is buried there and if I can find anything about this Henderson fellow.”

“I heard you visited Molly.”

“Yes she was helpful; I’ll have one of those chocolate bars for Ralph as well.”

“He sort of grows on you doesn’t he?” Biff handed Wayne the chocolate, “no charge tell him it’s from me.”

“He does somewhat, by the way I told him about his mother.”

“How did he take it?” Biff asked displaying a measure of concern as she watched the lad quietly seated in the car.

“Alright I guess but with Ralph one never knows what is going on in there. He was talking to his cousin and when asked Stephen said he knew nothing about his mother and Ralph believed he wasn’t being truthful, therefore I had to tell him.”

“How did his cousin know?”

“I told Stephen when I first met him and asked him not to repeat it to Ralph.”

“That’s another thing about the kid; he can see right through you, has a six sense with people.”

“You’re not telling me anything, I better go, and I’ll tell you all about it next visit. See ya.” Wayne quickly returned to his vehicle.

“Here,” Wayne passed the chocolate bar.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from Biff; she said you need fattening up.”

“Did she now?”

“No she didn’t I was just having you on.”

Ralph placed the bar in his pocket, “for Ron,” he said

“Who is Ron?” Wayne asked.

“You know later on – later Ron.”

“Yea I get it, no need to explain, I was asking Biff where the cemetery is located.” Wayne commenced to drive but slowed as he passed Molly’s house, “that’s the house of the old woman I visited.”

“I’ve seen her about but haven’t spoken to her. She sometimes visited Grace but I would leave them to their conversation.” Ralph admitted.

“She also knows about the farm when it belonged to your family.”

“Is she also a Henderson?” Ralph asked as the past by.

“No she is a McBride.”

“It appears half the town is McBride.” Ralph smugly assessed.

“It does appear that way, would you like to visit Molly and maybe she can tell you about your lot?”

“No I’m sure you will find out enough when you get into Lachlan’s Journal.”

“Do you want to start reading it?”

“I’ll wait until you have finished.”

“At my speed that will be Christmas,” Wayne admitted.

“There is plenty of time.”

Let Gary Know that you are reading and what you think of his story. Drop an email to him: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net.

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