A sequel to ‘At the Turning’

Published: 17 Jan 2019

The afternoon’s ride was most refreshing. Wayne was now quite skilled in the saddle and could gallop Patchy for any distance without fear of falling and no longer did he vibrate, as Ralph would call it, in the saddle during a trot.

While at the Gulngai camp Wayne at last decided to confront Ralph on the matter of Lachlan and Stephen and the rest, even if Ralph were to think he was quite insane. Dismounting Wayne lead Patchy to a small stream at the end of the clearing, then releasing the rains sat on a log while watching his horse take on its fill of water, “its peaceful here.”

“Sometime I can almost hear the ghosts of the natives that once lived here laughing and singing.” Ralph confessed.

“Ghosts?” Wayne questioned.

“Well you know what I mean. Often at night when the air is still and sweet, it comes like sadness and when the wind is gentle I almost believe I hear laughter.

“I’ve never heard anything.” Wayne admitted.

“I guess not, I am told you have to believe to do so.”

“Who told you that?” Wayne asked, realising it to be a line often used by Lachlan.

“I don’t rightly remember.”

“What if I wanted to believe?” Wayne asked.

“What’s worrying you?” Ralph asked. He had become most apt at reading Wayne’s moods and felt concerned for his friend.

“Nothing is worrying – why do you ask.”

“As I’ve often said your mood is as easy to read as a Walt Disney comic.”

“Surly you could have described me with a more intellectual writing?”

“It wasn’t said to belittle you, I guess I’m good at reading other’s emotions.” Ralph apologised.

“Never mind I don’t mind Disney comics – that will do.” Wayne laughed.

“So what’s bothering you?”

“Ralph I hope you don’t think I’m going silly but do you ever see Lachlan?” As Wayne spoke he was already looking for an escape from his question but it was surely one that had no other meaning other than what was offered.

“See Lachlan?” Ralph laughed and repeated his words, “see Lachlan?”

“Yes that is what I said.” Wayne believed he had cornered himself and hadn’t any way of digressing from his admission.

“I thought I was the one going bonkers, not only Lachlan but the others as well and it’s Stephen who gives me the gardening hints.” At this they both burst into laughter.

“Do they tell you things?” Wayne asked.

“What sort of things?”

“Well about me?” Wayne asked coyly.

“Not really why?”

“What about Stephen, does he discuss our conversations?”

“No he mainly talks about the old days, much like what you have read to me from Lachlan’s journal and of course how to garden.”

Wayne didn’t divulge further instead he suggest they should all get together and have a party, and that Lachlan could bring his own spirits.

“It’s funny, although people lived and died around this camp for years, yet I feel nothing and see nothing, why should Lachlan and the others come through and no one from the camp. Ralph admitted.

“Maybe we should go up to Yarrabah and visit Jimmy and his mob.” Wayne suggested.

“Maybe,”

“Or it’s to do with the conjuncture.” Wayne offered.

“You spoke of a conjuncture once before.”

“I did, Lachlan said the reason why I saw them was because of the conjuncture.

“Possibly we are the conjuncture.” Ralph suggested.

“Stephen told me something.” Wayne said sounding somewhat rhetorical.

“You have been trying to tell me for a long time now, don’t you think you can trust me enough just to come out with it.”

“Point taken, I promise I’ll come clean soon.” Wayne assured.

“How soon is soon.”

“Soon is soon enough.”

On the return they encountered Maurice Verrocchi, the third and youngest of the Verrocchi brothers, who was exercising the dogs along the Verrocchi farm’s fence line. It was noted there was a new dog, a large bruising bugger with evil eyes and a permanent snarl that fortunately kept its distance, as it had the appearance it would take your leg away for a little sport.

“Hey Jenkins,” Maurice called on seeing the two passing by. Wayne rode up to the wire fence.

“Good afternoon Maurice, how’s the pig hunting?”

“Not much around, they’ve become too smart and stay away; you’ve still got that useless bit of land?” He commented nodding towards the Henderson farm.

“No it belongs to Ralph now; he’s a descendent of the original owner.” Wayne explained.

“I don’t know why the old man wanted it,” Verrocchi admitted, Wayne didn’t comment, “but when the old man got a bee in his bonnet nothing could stop him.” Whistling for his dogs he continued, “did I tell you we are selling the whole lot and splitting the money?” Maurice Verrocchi shared in a tone that appeared more relieved that disappointed.

“Why would you do that?” Wayne asked.

“Can’t agree on anything Lui wants keep it Frank wants the cash and I want a prawn boat.”

“Did you know that my great-great grandfather owned all the land that your family now hold and much more as well?” Wayne informed.

“No shit.” Verrocchi answered showing a limited measure of interest.

“He also tried to purchase the Henderson farm for no other reason than spite and power.” Wayne said.

“Did he?”

“No his own son foiled his attempt.”

“Sounds as if life goes around in circles, I can say one thing you won’t have me chasing after it.” Verrocchi again whistled bringing his two stocky brindle dogs to his side panting from their run and the heat of the day but the third, his latest acquisition remained running. “Have you heard?” Verrocchi asked.

“Heard what?”

“I was up in Cairns last week.” Verrocchi paused as if waiting to hook Wayne’s attention. It did so.

“Arranging the sale?” Wayne asked, feeling it was obvious Maurice was canvassing an answer.

“No I had lunch with Jack Miller.”

“Oh and how is Jack?” Wayne asked without enthusiasm.

“Jack is always Jack but Louise was also there.”

“Oh;”

“Did you know she is about to marry.” Verrocchi appeared pleased with his news.

“No, I’m not in contact with her family these days. Do you know who to?” Wayne enquired while using the most disinterested tone he could muster.

“Ah first other news,” Verrocchi smiled. He was teasing Wayne and enjoying doing so. Wayne waited for the addition, “She’s pregnant – not yours is it?”

“No way,” Wayne attempted to control his smirk but couldn’t.

“Na I didn’t think so, it’s that scrawny Lewis Pittard and her old man’s gone right off his head, threatened to cut her loose from his money.”

“They will make a perfect couple. She likes to dominate and he’s too weak to know any difference.”

“Yes I agree and he’s welcome to her, you were lucky to escape that one.” Maurice concluded. Again he called his dogs and departed from conversation.

Wayne was most amused as he rode back to tell Ralph the news. “Thanks for the news,” he called back to Maurice and quickly related it to Ralph.

“I guess that is one stress you won’t have to deal with.” Ralph surmised.

“I guess so. I don’t think Louise will like being disinherited but being the only kid in time Jack will come around, beside Pittard has enough to satisfy her needs.” Wayne took a deep breath and broke into the widest smile Ralph had ever encountered, “well who would have believed it, Lewis Pittard’s the father and there I was blaming some fellow called Eddie Roberts.”

“How do you know he’s the father, she attempted to trap you into being so?” Ralph reasonably asked.

“True, there could be a third person in the equation but I believe Pittard is much too dumb not to believe it’s his.”

“So how do you feel about it all?”

“Relieved mate more than that but the devil in me would love to be around to enjoy the Millar fireworks. I know for a fact Jack had no time for Pittard and as for Fay, Well you can guess the rest.”

“That family is like some television soap opera.”

“True, you know Ralph I think it’s almost spring in Europe, how about it?”

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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