A sequel to ‘At the Turning’

Published: 3 Jan 2019

It was well past six before they were finally ready and during the ordeal of doing so, Ralph managed to consume enough alcohol to take his mind off the pending reunion and yet he still was panicked. “Stephen will be here in a few minutes.”

“You really don’t want to go do you?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yes or no?” Wayne questioned with a slight shaking of the head and a teasing laugh.

“Well it will be interesting but I haven’t anything to say to them. What do you talk about to a mob you’ve never met, know nothing about and have absolutely no affiliation with?”

“You will be related to them.”

“That isn’t the kind of affiliation I mean.”

“Just smile and nod a lot I guess, it works for me.” Wayne suggested.

“That I don’t believe you always appear full of confidence.”

“Not as much as you think.”

“The horses, I forgot the horses,” Ralph’s panic returned. “We can’t leave them in the yard all night without food or water.”

“As I said, I’ll look after them, you go with Stephen to the reunion and I’ll join you later. Sid Milton has horses and he’ll lend me some fodder.” Wayne assured.

“You will turn up later?” Ralph demanded as a knock came to the front door.

“Stephen.” Ralph gasped as Wayne let him in.

“Well I’ll be buggered the horsemen have arrived.” Stephen greeted, “Are you ready?”

“He’s ready but has broken into a panic fit.” Wayne advised.

“A few beers will soon fix that.” Stephen declared while looking about for his cousin, “where is the young fellow?”

“I’m here,” Ralph answered and entered into the room.

“He’s had a number of drinks already. Hey Stephen take a sniff do I still stink from the days on the track?” Wayne asked lifting his arm towards Stephen’s face.

“Yea of cheap aftershave and Palmolive soap,”

“Cheap, it’s over a hundred dollars a bottle.” Wayne protested.

“It still smells cheap.”

“Where’s the reunion?” Ralph asked.

“At the pub, most are there already.”

“Most!” Ralph gasped.

“Don’t worry, there’s only about a dozen, some couldn’t make it.”

Once the two had departed for the hotel, Wayne called on Sid Milton, who not only supplied the horse fodder but delivered it in his utility. He also offering to stable them with his own until Wayne was ready to leave.

“By the way you didn’t come up the Gillies on horseback did you?” Milton enquired while handfeeding the horses, “nice piece of horse flesh,” he added and ran his hand along the bay’s rump.

“No we came west from Federation Bay over the brumby track.” Wayne explained, giving an inward shudder with the memory.

“You what!”Sid Milton didn’t believe what he heard.

“Yes but never again.”

“I’m a horseman and I wouldn’t try that track, not for any amount of money.” Milton shook his head in disbelief, “I’ll tell you what sonny, I’ll take my hat off to you, not for bravery but for stupidity.” Milton again shook his head and tutted. “I hope you’re not going back that way.”

“Can’t, part of the track fell away into the river after we crossed over and we almost went with it, horses and all.”

“Can I give you an alternate route?” Milton suggested.

“Nope Sid, the horses are going back in a horse float and we’re catching the bus.”

“Wise move lad, none of the roads up this way are horse safe these days.”

“That brings me to another question, could you deliver the horses to Federation Bay; I’ll pay of course.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem but it could be a few days. I believed this mate of yours is related to Stephen Henderson.”

“He is and from a Townsville branch of the family.” Wayne informed.

“Who were his parents?” Milton curiously asked.

“They were Veronica and Ian Matthews from Railway Estate why’s that?”

“I’ll be buggered that’s what I thought, it’s a small world.” Ian Matthews was a second cousin on my father’s side; I always told Stephen we were family.”

“It’s a small world alright and frightening to find who is related.” Wayne answered without giving detail of his own vague relationship to them all.

It was after ten before Wayne arrived at the hotel and the reunion was almost at a close, only three of Ralph’s cousins remained and Stephen, who by his glazed eyes was well and truly plastered. Those remaining, two lads and a girl all in their late teens or early twenties and all as drunk as Ralph appeared to be and Stephen was. Obviously Ralph’s Dutch courage had carried him through the night, leaving him without memory of what name belonged to which relation.

As Wayne arrived Ralph attempted to introduce the three but after a bungled attempt, Stephen did the honours.

“Are you a member of the Matthew’s family,” the girl, Glenda, asked Wayne.

“No just a friend but our great uncles’,” Wayne paused his telling, “I guess that’s another story for another time.”

“Stephen said you were related.”

“Only slightly I believe, our great uncles were in business, but that was a long time ago.” Wayne appeared to side step the question. It was Ralph’s night and he had no wish to steal the limelight.

“Stephen also said our great uncle once owned the farm where Ralph lives.” Glenda suggested as if trying to write herself into some vague ownership or connection.

“True but it belongs to Ralph now.” Wayne assured as he diverted Glenda’s attention away from the Henderson Farm, “Did you have a good night Ralph?”

“Yes I’m pleased I came.”

“He’s drunk,” Stephen quoted with zest, amused his somewhat priggish cousin had actually admitted enjoying himself.

It took two more rounds of drinks before the cousins and Stephen decided to call it a night with promises to keep in contact. They finished their last drink and bid farewell at the hotel door, all except Stephen who decided it too far for him to walk home in his condition and that the cottage was closer.

“I didn’t know you were also related to Sid Milton?” Wayne asked.

“He says so but I’m not sure.”

“He is related to Ian Matthews, Ralph’s father on Sid’s father’s side.” Wayne explained.

“Who’s related to my father?” Ralph asked.

“Sid Milton the fellow who is looking after the horses.”

“I don’t know him.” Ralph shook his head.

“I guess since you have never met him you wouldn’t but Stephen knows him quite well.”

Almost falling through the front door, both Stephen and Ralph found it necessary to use each other to remain upright before collapsing together onto the couch in a spasm of laughter. “I think I’m drunk.” Stephen admitted and gave Ralph a shove – “hey cousin you’re pissed.” Then both commenced to giggle.

“Coffee anyone?” Wayne offered without takers.

“Bed,” Wayne spoke.

“Stephen you have the couch and I’ll bunk in with Ralph,” but his words fell on deaf ears, Ralph had already struggled to the bedroom and Stephen fully dressed was asleep on the couch. Wayne covered him with a light sheet and placed a cushion under his head and retired to join his drunken friend.

The morning found Wayne the first to rise while Ralph lay fully dressed except for his boots on top of the bed and uncharacteristically snoring through what would become a rare hangover, while Stephen stretched uncomfortably across the couch.

“Coffee?” Wayne offered cheerfully giving Stephen a prod. He stirred and rubbed his eyes.

“Shit what time is it,” Stephen croaked, “more to the point what day is it?”

“Saturday the last time I looked and about nine,” Wayne answered then left for the bedroom with a mug of steaming black coffee for Ralph but finding the lad asleep thought better of waking him, leaving the mug on the bed side table.

“Good no work,” Stephen yawned and sipped at his coffee, “it’s hot!” he complained.

“That’s the funny thing about coffee,” Wayne mischievously responded.

“You’re a cheerful bugger first thing,” Stephen pulled a face, “no sugar,” he added.

“I put in one,”

“Not enough,”

“The kitchen’s through there.”

“I don’t think I yet have the legs to reach the kitchen.”

“Give it here, how many one?”

“No make it two more.”

“How’s your mother?” Wayne asked, remembering the woman was in the throes of being reallocated to Atherton.

“Much the same, she will be moving in with my sister sometime tomorrow, I need to talk to you about your suggestion.”

“What on you living here?”

“That was the one, is the offer still there?”

“Sure I’ll leave the keys you can shift things around to suit yourself.”

“Hey Stephen you still here?” Ralph called from the bedroom.

“Still here in body at least, how about yourself?” Stephen croaked and lubricated his raspy throat with the remaining coffee.

“Not too bad, that wasn’t such a bad night but I can’t remember any of their names.” Ralph admitted then moaning fell silent.

“Breakfast anyone? Eggs? bacon?” Wayne offered but received a most formative no from the cousins, “Good, as there isn’t any.”

“How are you getting back home?” Stephen asked. He was at last awake, his head hurt but no worse than any other Saturday morning, while the coffee seemed to slosh from side to side in his stomach. He crudely belched then farted, declaring it best out both ends than roaming around a perfectly good body. To which Wayne declared he was gross.

“Bus.” Wayne answered with some relief with his thoughts returning to the brumby track and the uncomfortable nights spent in a smelly tent. Yet he knew he would remember those few nights most favourable in time to come, as over those days he had come to realise much about himself and the value of good company.

“Oh I was hoping to hitch a ride down to Cairns. I forgot you came by donkey.”

“What’s on in Cairns?”

“Nothing much, I have Monday and Tuesday rostered off and wanted to visit someone.”

“Another relation?” Wayne asked thinking Stephen appeared to have them spread end to end across the Tableland.

“No not this time.”

“Do you have anywhere to stay in Cairns?” Wayne asked.

“Yes and no, not sure,” Stephen appeared coy,

“You can use my unit if you wish.” Wayne offered. He removed a spare key from its holder and tossed it to Stephen then wrote the address on a scrap of waste paper.

“Are you sure?”

“I offered didn’t I but don’t leave it in a mess, I don’t want my cleaning lady complaining.”

“Isn’t that what cleaners are for, cleaning?”

“Not unnecessary messes.”

“Thanks mate, I owe you one.” Stephen carefully placed the key and address into his pants pocket and asked if he could take a shower. Then he would have to be going as he promised to help pack his mother’s belongings for the shift.

“Where’s Stephen?” Ralph asked as he somewhat blurred-eyed joined the day.

“Having a shower, how do you feel?”

“Now I know how you feel the day after.”

“Your first hangover Mister Matthews?”

“Almost, there was this one time,” Ralph grinned through the pain in his head, “well maybe another time. I can’t give away all my secrets.”

“Would you like another coffee?” Wayne offered.

“No a glass of water I think, the coffee you brought in earlier has settled like led in my stomach.”

“You outa’ bed Ralph?” Stephen called from the shower.”

“I am.”

“Could you bring me a towel, there isn’t any in here.”

“Sure.” Ralph collected a clean towel and delivered it to his cousin.

“Do you want a shower while the water’s hot?” Stephen asked as he stepped from the shower. Ralph passed the towel.

“I’ll have one later.”

“Should I arrange another reunion, there are others who would like to meet you?” Stephen asked while drying without attempting to hide his nakedness.

“Possibly sometime but not too soon.” Ralph moved away.

“Ralph,” Stephen called as he dressed himself. Ralph paused.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter, any more coffee my mouth feels like the bottom of a bird cage.”

“I’ll make you one.”

Early afternoon and the bus dropped Wayne and Ralph outside Biff’s store.

“Hey you two where have you been?” Biff called out from deep inside the dark abyss of her shop. She met them at the door. “Where’s your car? Don’t tell me Ralph’s run it into something.” She winked and smiled at the lad.

“Na Biff, we took the horses up to Yungaburra.” Wayne explained.

“Up the Gillies?” Biff exclaimed with surprise, knowing how busy that road could be and the regulations on stock movements.

“No over the back from here, along the brumby track.” Wayne said and before Biff could answer added that he now knew they were mad doing so.

“You said it kiddo there hasn’t been anyone over that way in years, even the brumbies won’t use it.”

“Then they definitely won’t now, half the track fell into the river.” Ralph added.

Biff turned to Ralph, “who’s looking after your garden?”

“It’s having a down turn at the moment, only a few pumpkins and they mostly look after themselves.”

“Can I use your phone Biff? I need to call the taxi and I didn’t bring my mobile with me.” Wayne asked.

There was only one taxi in town and often a fare could have a long wait, especially if the driver was delivering someone to Cairns or one of the nearby towns. Even then its owner was a surely bugger and often refused fares simply out of pure laziness.

“There’s no one around so if you wait a while I’ll run you home,” Biff offered.

The following week the horse float arrived, with the horses appearing as happy to be home as did Wayne and Ralph. After a brushing and a good feed both were set loose in the big paddock that butted onto the forest and the hundred acre Gulngai block. On release Ralph whispered into each horse’s ear, promising they wouldn’t be given such a harrowing experience again. Wayne laughed and called him a sook.

“They understand.” Ralph assured.

“I’ve never heard a horse speaking English and you don’t speak horse.”

“It isn’t the words, it’s the tone.” Ralph explained.

“Ralph the horse whisperer.”

“So it works just look at them, happy as Larry.” Ralph acknowledged as the two horses bounded across the paddock, kicking their hooves into the air and neighing like yearling foals.

“So give me a short synopsis on the trip.” Wayne asked as they left the horses to their frisky business.

“Good.”

The two walked the short distance back to the house, with Ralph pausing at his vegetable patch.

“Not that short.” Wayne protested.

“Very Good.”

“Now you’re being smart.”

“I’ll have to do some preparations for the next planting.”

“You didn’t like the trip?” Wayne appeared disappointed seeing initially it had been Ralph’s suggestion.

“No I’m only teasing, it was fun and in a nutshell I would like to take another long ride sometime. Not like the brumby track but somewhere easy, possibly across the jump-over out where Stephen had his cattle run and was rescued by Lachlan; it’s easy riding that way.” Ralph bent and plucked a weed from some carrots, “they are going to seed.”

“What are?”

“The carrots,” he pulled a gnarled and split carrot from the ground, “see now only good for soup.”

“I like soup, good thick soup with meat and vegies.” Wayne rhetorically announced.

“Like your Gran used to make.”

“Yes something like that.”

“I reckon I could make you some, I found a recipe for minestrone.” Ralph offered.

“This long trip of yours, not too soon I hope.” Wayne warned.

“Not too soon, what I did like were the nights and looking at the stars, you don’t see them the same when in a city or town.”

“Anything else?” Wayne asked.

“I guess the company, what about you Wayne you never give anything away? What did you like?”

“I guess I learned much about myself.” Wayne answered and guided the way into the house.

“Are you going to expand on that?”

“One of these days.”

“Umm I’ve heard that one before.”

“Back to the trip, what about your cousins?” Wayne asked.

“I liked Glenda and the tall redhead, Tony wasn’t that his name?”

“No the redhead was Barry.”

“Who was Tony then?” Ralph appeared somewhat puzzled.

“He was the short tubby one, I was only there ten minutes and you were there most of the night.” Wayne complained.

“Ah but alcohol does strange things to a blokes memory – so you take note of that Wayne Jenkins.”

“Cheeky little bugger.”

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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