A sequel to ‘At the Turning’

Published: 27 Dec 2018

The rain stopped around midnight and above their clearing the sky was awash with stars but inside the tent the two slept soundly. With the morning the warmth of the first sun was magnified through the material of the tent. Unusual for Wayne he was first to rise and after relieving himself at the edge of the clearing, he quickly returned to the tent.

“Hey Ralph come and have a look at this. Wayne escorted Ralph to where he had been standing. “Look at that.”

Before them was the entire North Queensland outback, to the south west the land was flat, covered with long brown grass stretching to the endless horizon, spotted with lazy smoke from the occasional bush fire, while to the north a green mass of hills and rivers but best of all was the brumby track, gently leading down from its thousand metre zenith through stunted trees and as wide and passable as any forestry track. As they admired the view all their anxieties diminished and they become overwhelmed with relief.

Behind them the forest, which they had travelled, was thick and green, menacing and rebuffing, while to their front the land was bathed in cloudless sunshine with a gentle breeze bending the long stalks of drying grass into rhythmic dance, beckoning for their descent. They were truly standing upon the divide. From their advantage the water slowly flowed ever west, while behind and at the line of forest trees it flowed at a quicker pace the shorter distance to the sea. It was as if two very different worlds had collided and they were standing at the point of impact.

“What do you think of that?” Wayne asked.

“Is wow the correct word?” Ralph asked, shaking his head in wonderment. He had never seen the western planes before, finding it most difficult to apprehend the vastness. Yet if one were to reach that distant horizon, there was another, then another, until the sands of the Simpson dessert, yet again on and on, day after day of nothing but a scattering of cattle stations and small towns. His mind digressed to those who rode on horseback for months to cross it.

Ralph was impressed by the settler’s challenge, as they had no brumby track to guide them, no road map or conveniences, their adventures were truly heroic. He thought of his uncle Stephen and his trials while attempting to develop a cattle empire somewhere out there, even where he cast his gaze, possibly the very spot Stephen had attempted to settle. He thought of Lachlan and his bid to rescue Stephen, finding him almost dead and all about decaying, destroyed by a small band of renegade natives, attempting to rid the grasslands of the white man and his cattle. As quickly the view brought him back to its beauty but most of all their need to be on their way.

To the North West the land was undulating. There were hills and mountains and plateaus leading on to the tablelands. The vegetation was mixed, patches of rain forest, pasture and dry areas bordering the western reaches of what was known as the Downings and that was to be their path.

From that high advantage it appeared daunting but once they reached the north south leading road, it would be an easy day’s ride to Ravenshoe and the commencement of the Atherton Tablelands. There would also be grass and water for the horses and road houses for refreshments.

Minutes passed and still the two stood admiring what lay before them, eventually Ralph simply uttered, “well.”

“I guess,” Wayne answered realising his friend was eager to be on their way.

As they packed their belongings Wayne appeared agitated while searched through saddle bags.

“What are you looking for?”

“I bet you didn’t pack toilet paper?”

“You’re in the bush now so use nature’s paper,” Ralph pointed to a large flat leaf tree at the edge of the clearing, “like that one, it should be perfect for the job.”

“You actually want me to use some leaf?”

“Why not, during my travelling I had to and survived.”

Wayne’s face became twisted with refutation. “That one,” he nodded towards the plant in half agreement.

“Na try the back bag on my saddle, there’s a roll in there. I told you I thought of everything,” Ralph laughed, “and I wouldn’t use that leaf, it’s a stinging nettle, use it and you wouldn’t be fit for the saddle for a number of days.”

Descending into the western reaches did have its difficulties but nothing that compared with the nightmare of the previous day. The track turned somewhat around the ridges and gullies but had the appearance of being recently used by the four wheel drive vehicles of the Forestry Department, or kangaroo shooters culling their trade to the pet industry.

It was past noon when they reached the flatlands and with the midday sun drying the dampness from their clothes and supplies the steam began to rise upwards towards their faces.

“I stink!” Ralph shouted back to Wayne.

“So do I;” Wayne agreed then laughed, “I smell like sex,” he added while sniffing at his underarm.

“I wouldn’t know.” Ralph honestly answered.

“One day you will meet the right person.” Wayne said as they reached the north south road. Ralph didn’t answer. He was in thought over his friend’s choice of words, meet the right person? Not meet the right girl as the saying went. He was about to challenge Wayne’s choice of words but instead built another question. “Do you really think I will?” he asked hopefully.

“Any person would be mad to let you slip through their clutches. You would be a great catch,” it was another of Wayne’s pussy-footed answers but one Ralph wasn’t prepared to challenge but once again Wayne had used person and not girl.

“I guess someone may have already done so,” Ralph answered.

“Who?”

“Just someone I know.”

“Do I know this person?” Wayne asked.

“Probably not but then again…”

“Now who is talking in riddles, was this someone before Grace died?”

“Yea that’s it but it really doesn’t matter.”

“Then they were a fool.”

“As you said there is plenty of time.”

Wayne took on board Ralph’s words and weighed them carefully but couldn’t come to any conclusion except something Stephen’s effigy had said about acting before it was too late. ‘Wayne,’ he thought, ‘you better make a decision and quickly.’ Catching up to Ralph and manoeuvring his mount closer Wayne spoke, “come on Ralph who was it?”

Ralph laughed and coyly moved ahead, “come on better get a move on or we’ll never get there on time – how far to the road house you spoke of?”

“Don’t rightly know, you have the map, it’s a little quiet around here.”

“Yes it is difficult to believe we are no more than forty kilometres from the coast, it is more like another country.” Ralph removed his map from its protection and immediately commenced to laugh.

“What’s the joke?”

“Where are we?” Ralph curiously asked.

“I don’t know on the road south of Ravenshoe I expect, you have the map. You can read a map?” Wayne questioned.

“That isn’t what I meant I haven’t any landmark to work with.” He looked about, I reckon that is the Koombooloomba Reservoir over there and the mountain in the distance could be Ballendon Ker, so it is my guess we are somewhere south of Innot Hot Springs – maybe – possibly – dunno’.”

“I should think as long as we keep the mountains to our right we must be heading north.” Wayne surmised.

“I agree but it would be nice to ascertain how far we from your road house.

“Ascertain; there’s another big word from a little fellow.” Wayne chuckled.

“Don’t worry there are plenty more where that came from.” Ralph smugly retorted.

“Yes mister walking dictionary.” Wayne manoeuvred his mount beside Ralph and peered over his shoulder at the map, “it means nothing to me.” He freely admitted as Ralph folded the map back to the saddle bag, “everywhere I drive I know the way without a map.”

They had been travelling along the Ravenshoe road for a good three hours and yet had not met any traffic, except for one car and van and an extremely old Dodge truck with a timber tray and high sides, carrying a bull and two cows. The truck driver waved high and sounded the horn with its ruptured note as he passed, while one of the cows dropped a sloppy cowpat, which, after hitting the surface of the tray, spatted outwards and being caught by the truck’s turbulence sprayed across Wayne’s pants. He cursed loudly after the truck but to no effect. The driver couldn’t hear him and the cattle didn’t care.

Ralph laughed.

The light splatter soon dried and Wayne brushed it away with his hand.

“What’s the joke?” he questioned.

“You, worrying about the smell.”

“I guess a little more stink will just add to the appreciation, besides you will have to sleep with it tonight. Wayne’s grin was retaliatory.

“And the next night,” Ralph corrected.

“You know what I would really love right now?” Wayne appeared lost in his list of instant needs.

“A flat white coffee?”

“No.”

“An egg omelette with your granny’s trimmings?”

“Still no.”

“A nice juicy fat steak sandwich with lashings of tomato sauce, piled high with onions?”

“No again but it would be nice, I am feeling a little peckish. A shower – a nice long hot shower, the warm water massaging my back until it ran out, then even a little longer but a plate of eggs, bacon tomatoes and toast wouldn’t go amiss.”

“It would be nice but the longer you go without will make it more appreciated when it happens, besides we may pass a creek, we can wash there.” Ralph agreed.

“It wouldn’t be the same.”

“You really are a town’s boy.” Ralph commented.

“I am and proud of being so, yet I have to admit I am enjoying the ride, except for that nightmare back in the hills.”

“Nightmare on – what was the name of that mountain we crossed?” Ralph asked.

“Don’t rightly know, only that it is part of the Great Divide.”

“Nightmare on Great Divide, it doesn’t have the right ring to it.” Ralph suggested.

“A book or a film?” Wayne continued with Ralph’s fantasy.

“It would have to be a film.” Ralph assured.

“Who would play me? Wayne asked.

“Heath Ledger.”

“He’s no longer with us but I do like that idea, he was a good actor.” Wayne answered, his thoughts transferring to Brokeback Mountain.”

“I hear he was but have never seen him act.”

“Who would play you?” Wayne asked.

“It would have to be Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“Your choices sound a little adventurist.” Wayne concluded while remembering the plot of Brokeback, a film he had seen under protest because Louise wished to. A film that had spooked his emotions, cutting too close to the quick and bringing his inner voice to surface as Louise asked for his opinion. Wayne had denied enjoyment while his inner self screamed fraud.

“I guess so.” Ralph finalised his fantasy.

“I thought you hadn’t recently seen any movies?” Wayne asked, challenging Ralph’s knowledge of Brokeback.

“I read the book and I do read about new releases.”

“I didn’t know it was a book?”

“It was but only about sixty pages long and was written by a woman.”

“So?”

“I didn’t think women would have expertise on such matters.”

“What matters would that be?” Wayne asked.

“You know the Jeremiah kind.”

“dunno;’ I never thought of it,” Wayne answered not wishing to acknowledge anything to do with the subject.

Towards evening they reached a creek that had a swift flow, its banks covered with green pasture, with enough distance from the road to be away from passing traffic. Ralph suggested they should take advantage of the pasture and rest the horses, besides the light was diminishing and Wayne was complaining about missing lunch.

“If I hang around you for much longer, I’ll fade away to a shadow – you eat like a native, no not to be disrespectful I correct that, like a grasshopper.” Wayne grumbled.

“Ah you’re just city and soft, too many restaurants and coffee joints.”

“City soft maybe but I don’t actually miss the coffee joints.”

It was a good area with a barrier of scrubby bush on two sides and a creek on the other, bringing Ralph to the opinion he could hobble the horses with confidence they would not stray during the night.

“There’s your creek.” Ralph waved a hand towards the water.

“I’m not going in there it’s running too fast, besides there is a farmhouse just over that rise.” Wayne assured.

“True but we can at least have a wash you don’t have to go skinny dipping.”

“Poor substitute for a nice hot shower.”

“It’s all I can offer.”

Soon they had their camp fire burning with enough intensity to cook. Wayne took the billy and filled it from the creek, while Ralph placed bacon, tomatoes and onions into the fat sizzling pan. Immediately the area became permeated with the aroma of his cooking.

As Wayne filled the billy he was interrupted by a loud voice from across the creek, “Hey you two you do realise you are on private land!”

Wayne lifted his head to be confronted by a short rotund man wearing a hat so large it completely shadowed his face, a twelve bore shotgun swung lazily across the shoulder, while in the twilight his form was silhouetted against the darkening background.

“Sorry mate, we’ve just ridden from over the Divide and wished to camp the night, on our way to Yungaburra.”

“How long do you intend to stay?” The farmer asked as a dog came to his side and tried the water but didn’t enter.

“Overnight if that would be alright.”

“I guess so but don’t leave a mess.”

“Much appreciated,” Wayne filled his billy and returned to Ralph’s cooking.

“What was that all about?”

“We are on private land but the bloke said it would be alright.”

“I would think everywhere is private land of sorts.” Ralph acknowledged.

“How about when you were travelling?” Wayne asked.

“Sometimes it was difficult, I was once marched off the bank of a creek at the point of a rifle barrel, that was a little hairy and not so often someone would take me in, feed me and let me use their shed, sometime offering work for keep and little more, but even that I was often grateful for. Once an old man let me use his spare room, then after a number of days his son arrived and told me to clear out,” Ralph released a sigh of memory, “I suppose I reminded the old feller’ of his son and took pity on me and the son supposed I was muscling in on his inheritance.” Ralph turned the tomatoes and readied the meal to be served, “the bread is a little stale but I cut of the mouldy bits.”

“No matter – at last hot food,” Wayne praised as Ralph dished out his portion onto a pink plastic picnic plate, “I even forgive you the plate’s colour, where did you get them?”

“They belonged to Grace. I found them at the back of one of the kitchen cupboards.” Ralph’s tone apologetic.

“Living rough has given you a slant on camp cooking.”

“Not really most of the time I didn’t have money to buy food to cook, I often stole from orchids and people’s fruit trees and vegie gardens – also begging.”

“Even with my family background, I cannot imagine so and I never went without anything, well meals anyway,” Wayne sympathetically produced, feeling grateful for his lot.

“Was your grandmother good to you?” Ralph asked.

“Yes she was a kind old lady but much too advanced in years to have a teenage kid thrust onto her, she did her best but kept her emotions to herself, yet she wasn’t backward in convincing me my mother was the root of all my father’s ailments.”

Wayne finished him meal as he drifted back to his youth, “she was my father’s mother, while against my parents marrying from the beginning and blamed mum for the breakup and the accident.”

“Who did you blame?” Ralph asked and collected the plates.

“I guess no one, by the time of their breakup I understood what was going on and that my parent’s characters were too different for it to work. Mum was gregarious and one man in her life could never satisfy her, dad was most definitely monogamous the silent type who held his cards close,” a smile of memory, “they both loved playing cards.”

“I’ve never had the opportunity, except Old Maid and Snap with the kids next door when I was a little tacker.”

“I like playing cards, I should teach you euchre.”

“I would like that and yourself Wayne are you the monogamous kind?”

“Me? I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t before Louise but was during our two year relationship and haven’t had the chance to be anything since – here I’ll wash the dishes, you cooked.”

Ralph allowed Wayne to take charge of the dishes and gazed after him as he wandered to the creek.

“I would be monogamous.” Ralph deduced in a most serious tone.

“That is what everyone thinks at the start of a relationship but in time things become tangled, even Louise and I were fraying at the edges, maybe that was our reason to marry.”

“Reason?”

“Yes thinking it would fix a developing problem.” Wayne returned from the creek.

“Did you pop the question?”

“No Louise did being leap-year and all, you know lady’s choice but often couples who have been together and marry late in a relationship break up soon after.”

“Why do you think that is?” Ralph asked.

“Don’t rightly know, possibly it is failing in the first place and they think marriage will fix it.”

“Still I think I would be monogamous.” Ralph concluded.

“Ralph I believe you would be, just like Galahs they mate for life.”

“A lot of birds do.” Ralph admitted.

“Yes I’ve often seen a Galah beside the road with its mate squashed to the asphalt waiting patiently for it to fly away. It’s quite poignant really.” Wayne added.

“From what you have told me Lachlan and Stephen were so, as were Daniel and Toby.”

“Different times I guess, not so many distractions or opportunities to be otherwise, I would think back then chances of finding a feller’ of the same persuasion were few and far between, so you would need to hang on to what you had.”

“I guess so. Looking back I now believe my mother was seeing the cop before my father passed away.” Ralph admitted.

“What happened to your dad?” Wayne asked.

“I was never told, one day he was as happy as Larry, the next ill in bed and by week’s end he was gone. All the while the cop was comforting my mother, even staying nights on pretence he was helping her attend to dad.”

“Did that concern you?”

“Not at the time, I was too young and believed he was a family friend. He treated me alright then, it was after dad died and he moved in the trouble started. In retrospect I should have realised a situation was developing by the way Bob would always be touching, hugging patting on the arse, that kind of thing.” Ralph pulled the kind of face that comes with a bad memory.

“I would have thumped the bugger.” Wayne admitted.

“He was a big and powerful man, spent most of his time at the gym, he had muscles on top of muscles, I believe he was on steroids and I have heard they can make a man violent.”

“I would wait until he slept and got him then.” Wayne guaranteed.

“Not you Wayne, I think you would have done the same and left.” Ralph corrected.

“I guess you are right, I’m not a violent person but somehow I would have had pleasure in seeing him suffer. Now that your mum had passed, what do you believe he is doing?”

“Grazing in another man’s patch I guess. He wouldn’t stay single for long.” Ralph answered.

“Grazing, I like that definition but definitely not a Ralph Matthew’s prognosis.”

“Or having the kids at the scout camp.” Ralph added with a disagreeing frown.

“That I don’t like. I don’t understand how a man can swing from straight to homosexual at a whim.” Wayne sternly admitted.

“I guess no man is a hundred percent heterosexual or gay but somewhere in between.” Ralph assumed.

“Umm,” Wayne answered without adding to such a strong assertion, while casting a sly glance towards Ralph to note if he was judging his reaction.

‘Where am I in Ralph’s report?’ Wayne privately thought.

‘Ninety-nine percent?’

‘Maybe a little less.’

‘Growing less all the time. What happens when I’m below fifty percent?’

‘I should think it isn’t the level one is but where they wish to be – or where the way of things places them.’

Wayne quickly turned from the conversation towards the travel needed the following day to arrive before Ralph’s reunion. “How far tomorrow?” he asked.

“I think we will know better when we reach Innot Hot Springs.”

After their meal they propped themselves beside the dying embers but soon felt the coolness of the night close in, as without the moderating effects of the Coral Sea the mercury at altitude and beyond the mountains soon plunged towards discomfort.

“I’m going to turn in its too bloody cold out here.” Wayne wrapped his arms around his shoulders as his body shuddered with the chill, leaving Ralph to attend to the horses and douse the fire, which he did so by urinating onto the embers, watching with satisfaction as they struggled to stay alight, sizzled and died.

Once inside the tent their body heat soon took the chill off the air, even so they found themselves sleeping inside their sleeping bags and not on them as they did the previous night.

“You do stink!” Ralph laughed but still moved his bag closer towards Wayne’s until their backs were touching.

“So do you.” Wayne echoed, “I was thinking of your step-father Ralph.” Wayne spoke and rolled to his back, “was he gay?” Wayne returned to their earlier conversation while holding difficulty understanding male sexuality, or more to point, his own.

“Don’t rightly know but a man who roots his woman’s son must be close to being so.”

“Then why marry your mother?”

“Who knows what reasons the man had but he did help at out at the police youth club, and the scouts, taking the boys on camping trips and the like – so maybe.”

“Did you go on any of the trips?” Wayne asked.

“I wouldn’t join the club because of Bob, besides for some reason he didn’t appear to want me along.” Ralph yawned.

“I’m keeping you up.” Wayne apologised.

“Not at all.”

“I guess I shouldn’t remind you of those times.” Wayne admitted.

“Doesn’t concern me anymore I am well over it.”

“Goodnight Ralph.”

“Good night.”

The following day the road reached the Gulf Highway at Innot Hot Springs, where they replenished their supplies. Wayne sent Ralph into the roadhouse as he didn’t want to offend the owner with his body odour. When Ralph complained he stank as much, Wayne just told him he was the younger and the lackey. The humour wasn’t appreciated but out of necessity Ralph obliged.

“By the way, oh smelly one, I got you some eggs for tonight but you can carry them. If you break them, it’s your problem.” Ralph passed a half dozen carton to Wayne and saddle bagged the rest of their supplies.

“How am I going to carry these?” Wayne complained, coming to the realisation that his friend’s decision for not bringing eggs in the first place was quite sound. He placed them carefully inside the less full saddle bag after wrapping them in a dirty shirt.

“Your eggs so your problem;” Ralph freely imparted.

“There you go, as safe as houses,” Wayne declared and patted the saddle bag in proof, receiving but a smile of doubt from Ralph.

Innot Hot Springs received its name from the fact that it was a thermal area; with boiling mineral water gushing out of the bowels of the earth in a dry river bed close to town. It was said, in the early years the water was bottled and sent to Europe to be sold for its healing properties but in modern time no one appeared interested in the water or believed in its therapeutic quality.

Neither had previously seen the springs but envisage a geyser such as Old Faithful in Yellowstone, or Rotorua in New Zealand but arriving at the place where the spring was located, they became hysterically humoured to find nothing more than an old galvanised pipe, sunk into the ground with its free end held up by rocks. True it was gushing and appeared very hot and smelly but arrived at the same velocity as would a moderate garden hose.

The distance from Innot Hot Springs to Ravenshoe was a good twenty-five kilometres and then double that distance to Yungaburra. After departing from the Springs Ralph once more referred to his map and apologised to Wayne without giving a reason.

“Why the apology?” Wayne asked feeling somewhat refreshed from the food and juice they had obtained from the Roadhouse.

“I told you that it would be one more night to Yungaburra but it will be at best two, possibly three.”

“Doesn’t matter I’m beginning to enjoy the trip and think I’m becoming an integral part of the horse,” there was a pause, “what day is your reunion?”

“It appears that we may not make it in time.” Ralph admitted but if we push it along a little we may arrive in Yungaburra late in the afternoon and we would have to hurry for the reunion that night.”

“Then we better travel during the night.” Wayne suggested while casting his gaze to the west and the dipping sun.

“Doing so wouldn’t fair on the horses but we could grab an hour or so each end that would help. Did you bring your mobile telephone?”

“No, besides I doubt if there is a signal out here.”

“We should stop at a public telephone and let Stephen know we could be late.”

“Sure if you can find one, I haven’t seen a phone box in Cairn’s for yonks.”

It was twilight before they passed through Ravenshoe and as decided, travelled some kilometres onward until once again finding a creek with water and fodder, now they were onto the Tableland proper and all about was patches of jungle and green pasture and traffic.

“This looks like a good spot.” Ralph suggested directing the way from the road down a slight embankment to the grassy verge besides a shallow creek, “you could take that bath you’ve been choking for.”

“I could piss stronger than that.”

“You could paddle and splash about a little.” Ralph’s brand of humour was rising.

“Too cold, I believe a quick wash and a promise of a nice, long hot shower when we arrive will do the trick.” Wayne dismounted and tested the water, “as I said much too cold it’s like flaming ice water, it will be a lick and a promise that’s for sure.”

“What is that?”

“Something my mother would say when I hurried my bath time; she would say it was a lick and a promise – meaning.”

“Meaning you hardly washed at all, mum would also say that and ask me if I had washed behind my ears and -,” Ralph laughed and cut short his sentence.

“What else did she say, come on out with it.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re among friends.”

“She would ask if I had washed my Tommy.”

“Tommy?”

“Yea Tommy, it was her word for your old fella’”

“My parents were too prim to be that suggestive.” Wayne implied.

Ralph gave his infamous chuckle and watered the horses while Wayne prepared the tent, “will this spot do?” he called back from a flat area some distance from the creek.”

“Looks good,”

“It’s a little close to the road for my liking.” Wayne reconsidered.

“Should be fine.”

It was a restless night, overcast not cold but dark. Even the horses appeared to be bothered as they frequently snorted and moved about close by the tent. Ralph took himself to check on them on a number of occasions but each time they appeared to settle once he spoke.

“Ralph Matthews the horse whisperer.” Wayne commented as Ralph crawled back into the tent.

“It seems to work but I wish I was a people whisperer, don’t have much luck there.”

“Not true mate you’ve whispered in my ear okay and those I know and who know you think the world of you.”

“I guess I’m not that bad. If I can convince you I must be a champion,” he laughed.

“I’m not joking, I love being around you.”

“Have you been at the scotch Wayne?”

“Nope, I never know what you will come up with or say next. It’s like a magical mystery tour.”

“Eventually tours come to an end.” Ralph pessimistically aired.

“That’s somewhat negative and not like you at all, everything ends, life ends but you don’t hang around waiting for it to do so.”

“I know that.”

“So enjoy the ride, I am and loving it.”

“There’s a lot of traffic along the road.” Ralph announced as a large truck passed over a small bridge some short distance away. Kabung, kabung as the tyres bounced on loose wooden planks then a slight turn from the bridge and the truck’s high beam lit up the tent as if it were Christmas.

“I sure picked the right spot.” Wayne admitted as the truck was followed by a sedan with lesser light and moments later another.

“Should be fine.” Wayne gave grievance.

“Eh,”

“They were your words – should be fine.”

“It is, the ground if flat, nice soft grass underneath and no rocks, I can’t judge how the night will pan out.”

“Should be fine, there goes another bloody truck.” Wayne complained.

“Too late to change now I guess.” Ralph answered and turned away from the direction of the bridge only to cop a full blast of light from the opposing direction. As the night progressed the traffic lessened, until there was quiet.

In the early hours Ralph was awakened by what he thought to be the howl of a dingo, to which Wayne declared it to be just a dog from some farm close by but Ralph assured he knew the howl of a dingo over that of a barking of a dog. He again checked the horses, they appeared to be settling.

Wayne continued to doze until, “come on wake up.” Ralph’s voice brought him out of a troubled sleep. He sat upright, his eyes opened wide to the half light of the early morning. “What is it?” He gasped while trying to make sense out of the darkness.

“Nothing’s wrong but we should make a start, we have a good distance to travel and have to be in Yungaburra by around six.”

“It’s still night.” Wayne complained.

“By the time we pack everything away the sun will be up.”

The previous night Ralph took himself to bed fully clothed as he wished to save time with the morning. Now with Wayne wanting breakfast he was becoming stressed. “It will take too long to build a fire.” Ralph complained, then realising he may be placing his own needs above his friends he commenced to gather fire wood while stumbling around in the semi-darkness. “Where are your eggs?” He asked returning to the clearing his arms full of fire wood.

Wayne laughed, “All but one broken,” he offered up the box of ooze, “I guess we should have had them last night.”

“How would they have broken?”

“I think I stood on them in the dark.” Wayne admitted.

“Sorry.” Ralph apologised “but I did warn you.”

“Don’t be and you are correct we should go, I’ll survive as long as you can.” Wayne placed his hands on Ralph’s shoulders as he dropped his bundle of kindling. “Come on let’s pack up and be on our way,” he smiled while gently slapping Ralph on the buttocks.

The two made good progress through the day and arrived in Yungaburra at around four in the afternoon. On reaching the cottage they released the horses in the cottage yard then hurried to ready themselves for that night’s reunion.

“What time did Stephen say he was coming?” Ralph asked.

“Around six – six-thirty.”

“We better get a move on.”

“There’s plenty of time Ralph, I’ll give him a call.”

“We need fodder for the horses and water.” Ralph began to panic as the time for the reunion drew near.

“Don’t concern yourself and I’ll attend to the horses. There is an old bath tub down the back I’ll fill it with water.”

“Clothes, I don’t have clean clothes.” Ralph was now standing in the centre of the living room in an almost trance.

“Ralph, stop worrying – remember we left some here on our last visit.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll take the first shower and you take a double scotch to calm yourself – no on second thoughts make it a triple.” Wayne took himself to the bathroom and stripping placed his dirty clothes to one side, declaring he would rather burn them than wash them.

The warm water soon soothed away his aches but the stink of days in the saddle was still deep in his nostrils. Moments later he felt movement behind him, it was Ralph, he had joined Wayne under the shower.

“Saves time,” he declared while playfully pushing Wayne out of the water’s flow. Wayne allowed Ralph to commandeer the shower while he once again soaped his body from foot to head and back.

“Do I still stink?” Wayne asked while washing away the soap.

“Can’t say, I think my nose is clogged with dust, what about me?” Wayne placed his nose against Ralph’s chest and laughed, “Ditto.”

“Really?”

“Na I can only smell soap but I’ve never seen you in such panic before.”

“It’s this reunion; I don’t really wish to go.”

“After all the bother we’ve been through I don’t think you have much choice.” Wayne explained.

“Maybe so but I would rather not. Give me the soap and turn around I’ll scrub your back.” Ralph took the soap and turned Wayne towards the wall. Wayne obeyed as if it were a common occurrence. Ralph’s hands felt natural on his back, he closed his eyes and placed his hands onto the shower wall; while those firm but gentle hands scrubbed away his tension and care.

A minute had passed; maybe more and he had no wish for Ralph to stop. For all Wayne cared his friend could massage his back with the soap until the hot water ran out, and then continue through the cold, until they had drained the entire Tinaroo Dam. Ralph didn’t appear to be in any hurry to stop either and slowly his hand with the soap dropped lower. Over those well formed buttocks and between, then down the back of Wayne’s legs and back across the buttocks to the small of his back to his shoulders.

“My turn,” Ralph eventually declared, offering Wayne the ever decreasing cake of soap.

Wayne turned perceiving Ralph to be aroused, then so was he but neither appeared interested in such matters.

“The hot water is running out.” Wayne perceived and turned the cold tap to glean the last litre of warmth from the fall.

“Pity,”

“Come on we do have to get a move on.” Wayne turned off the water.

“You know something Wayne?” Ralph said softly.

“I know a lot of things.” Wayne admitted.

“We have just gone through the last few days and never once argued.”

“And?” Wayne asked, smacking Ralph on the arse before stepping out of the shower.

“It must mean something.” Ralph said while reaching for the second towel.

“I suppose it does,” Was Wayne’s simple explanation.

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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