A sequel to ‘At the Turning’

Published: 12 Jul 2018

Wayne contacted Stanley Travis of Travis Davis and Cohen Solicitors the following morning after Jack Miller’s decisive ultimatum. He gave his instructions by telephone and arranged to visit Travis on the Friday morning to finalise that decision.

After his telephone call to Stanley Travis, Wayne had also contacted Ralph Matthews his caretaker, who after some time answered his mobile telephone with the words “How does this bloody thing work, anyone there?”

“Yes Ralph its Wayne,” he mused at the lad’s confusion.

“Is there anything wrong?” Ralph asked, his voice coming as from one unfamiliar with telephone usage.

“Nothing mate, I will be down Friday afternoon, is that alright with you?”

“Sure I like your company,” Ralph answered, while accidentally pushing a button sending a loud beep over the line. “What was that!” he exclaimed at the sound.

“Nothing, you pressed some button that’s all.” Wayne explained.

“Oh.”

“Have they put the landline onto the house yet?”

“Yes, yesterday morning.

“Okay I’ll see you late on Friday afternoon.”

“No worries, I’ll cook tea for you.” Ralph offered.

“Sounds great, see you then,”

“What do you like?” Ralph asked.

“Surprise me but nothing fancy.”

“Oh by the way the Iti was over yesterday sniffing around the sheds and wanting to know why the Telstra man was connecting a telephone and not removing it.”

“Did he say anything else?” Wayne asked.

“No just about the telephone and I told him he would have to ask you but he appeared to be most interested in the top paddock, I don’t think he realises that area belongs to the natives.”

“Don’t you confront him, if he comes over again you stay away from him.” Wayne warned.

“Sure, I don’t wish to talk with him anyway, besides whenever he sees me he just grunts.”

The atmosphere in Travis’ office felt as if it had been captured since Wayne’s last visit. The air conditioner was still out of action, now so was the ceiling fan, at last the noisy warn bearings had given up their usefulness but at least the office window was open, allowing the stench from the retarring on the adjacent street to permeate the room.

“Sorry about the smell and the noise, they are resurfacing the road.” Travis apologised.

“Yes I noticed on my way in, I had to park around the corner.”

“I’ll close the window.”

“Don’t bother on my account.”

Travis sweated profoundly; his white shirt stained yellow at the armpits, while the neckline took sweat drips from his face. He retrieved a large handkerchief from his pocket and mopped at the moisture.

“It’s bloody hot.” He complained.

“Why not have the air conditioner mended?” Wayne suggested while casting a quick eye at the dust covered fan blades stationary above his head, “and the fan.”

“I’m working on it but it’s hard to find a tradie who will do the job, are you sure you wish to go through with this plan of yours?” Travis asked while fiddling with the corners of a large envelope.

“I’m sure.” Wayne answered with authority.

“Umm seems like a strange idea but I guess you know your mind. I’ll go through the finer details with you.” Travis placed the papers before Wayne who carefully read the document.

“It appears to be in order.” Wayne admitted.

“Again are you sure you wouldn’t like to sell your unit?” Travis persisted.

“No,”

“I still have someone interested in it and will pay top money but they won’t remain so for much longer,” Travis offered. Wayne didn’t reply and after the papers were signed Travis folded them back into an envelope. “As I said if you want to sell, see me first.”

“Sure.”

The solicitor passed the envelope to Wayne and walked him out. “I’ll keep copies here but if you change your mind telephone and I will destroy them.”

“No I want it finalised as soon as possible, I’ll return with the signed papers towards the end of next week.”

As Wayne drove south out of Cairns he realised he had planned to see Louise that night. The fact that he had forgotten worried him, how could one about to marry forget such an arrangement. Then again he had become so involved with Jack Miller’s ultimatum nothing else held place in his thoughts.

A short distance beyond Innisfail he parked and called Louise.

“Where do you want to go for tea tonight?” She asked before Wayne had time to explain.

“I’ll have to give it a miss; I’ve had to go away on business for a couple of days.” Wayne announced while attempting to sound genuine.

“Business lover, what business do you have.” Louise answered incidentally.

“Up to Mareeba. I’ve been having trouble with one of my tenants,” An obvious untruth, well almost as it was genuine one of his tenants was somewhat unreliable and according to his agent in Mareeba behind in the rent.

“What about tonight?”

“Sorry Louise but I’m already on the road, talk to you Monday.”

“Monday?”

“Yes, I’ll stay with Bradley for the weekend.” Another lie, he was becoming an expert at doing so.

Bradley Andrew was a cousin on Wayne’s father’s side from Mareeba and was always a good excuse. Louise had often heard about the cousin but had never met him. A fact Wayne thought may prevent her from asking too many questions, although she was adamant Bradley should attend their wedding, even if only to pump him for information on Wayne and what they got up to when he stayed.

“Alright contact me when you return but I’m not happy, you’ve missed a number of engagements lately, I hope it’s not developing into some habit.” Louise somewhat peeved rang off.

Wayne passed by Verrocchi’s property at speed, not wishing to alert him to his visit and on arriving at the farm parked his BMW behind the house out of sight of the road. Here he almost ran into Ralph who was as usual in a state of undress, although was wearing shoes, no socks.

“Hey there,” Wayne called bringing Ralph to the driver’s window, “No clothes again?”

“I was finishing off the painting.” Ralph smiled.

“You didn’t drop the brush this time?” Wayne laughed noticing the lack of paint across Ralph’s lower body parts.

“How long will you be staying?” Ralph asked straightening his stance and scratching at his balls. “Sweaty.” He explained. “I’ll go and put some clothes on.” Ralph concluded.

“Don’t on my account – I’m becoming accustomed to your bare arsed behaviour.” Wayne chuckled then running his eyes over Ralph’s body, declared; “naked sort of suits you, well at least everything appears to be in the right place,” he added with a laugh without receiving response.

Wayne killed the motor and joined Ralph. ‘Why did I say that?’ he thought, ‘besides it didn’t make sense.’ He added as they entered into the house. “What have you been painting?”

“Your room I have only that moment finished the skirting, I’ll go put some pants on.” Ralph declared.

“As I said not on my behalf,” Wayne placed his packages onto the kitchen table, “I think I’ll have a shower.”

“There is plenty of hot water. I ran the gas when I heard you were coming.”

Wayne stepped out of the shower as Ralph entered into the bathroom,

“I thought you may like a clean towel, I’ve used that one.” Ralph explained on entering.

“Thanks.” Wayne answered and reached for the offered towel but instead of passing it, Ralph stood motionless his eyes fixed on Wayne.

“What?” Wayne asked inquisitively but Ralph remained silent.

“Nothing,” Ralph eventually answered, his face turning crimson. It was one thing for Ralph to wander without clothes but he had never before seen the exposed body of another man and it appeared to intrigue him. Why he could not say, he wanted to tear his gaze away from Wayne, to hide his embarrassment but could not. Wayne again reached for the towel and commenced to dry while Ralph remained quite motionless in the doorway. Eventually he turned his head and spoke.

“Sorry but I have never seen another person nude before.”

“You’ve seen yourself what’s different.” Wayne cheekily laughed, casting the towel aside as he reached for his underwear.

“I guess so, I apologise for gawking.”

“Have you ever had a girl, you know in the cot?” Wayne asked running his fingers through his hair while checking the bathroom mirror for facial blemishes. There were none but he did need a shave, maybe next time.

“No.” Ralph answered, still holding his position at the door.

“Sometimes Ralph I think you not missing anything.”

Ralph shrugged and gave a gentle sigh.

“How long had you been living rough?” Wayne asked.

“Since I was twelve I guess, except for the last six months living here with Grace. Sometimes I forget my age or even what month it is but since living here I’ve managed a routine of sorts – I’ll go finish tea.”

“I’ll be with you in a minute.” Wayne finished dressing, ‘Ralph’s a virgin eh. Boy is he in for a surprise.’ With a measure of humour the thought continued, ‘or a shock.’

After tea Ralph cleared the kitchen table and commenced to do the dishes.

“That was nice, what you call it?” Wayne asked about their meal.

“Stew I guess, a cross between Irish and Hungarian Goulash, I call it whatsaround stew.”

“Why do you call it that?”

“It has whatever I can lay my hands on in it,” Ralph filled the sink with water.

“Leave them, you cooked tea, I’ll do the dishes.” Wayne commanded, while requesting Ralph to be seated.

“No it’s alright, I don’t mind.” Ralph placed the dishes in the sink and commenced.

“Leave them I want to show you something.”

Ralph wiped the suds from his hands and sat at the table while Wayne removed a large beige envelope from his carry bag placing it flat on the tabletop without opening it.

“Do you have a dollar coin?” Wayne asked as he lifted the envelope’s flap.

Ralph searched his pockets and extracted one shiny coin and placed it on the table next to the pepper pot. He was confused why Wayne would want a dollar but believed it belonged to Wayne, so he may as well have it back.

Wayne extracted a most official document from the envelope and a pen from his bag, tossing the document in front Ralph he handed the lad the pen.

“Sign here,” Wayne demanded in a soft voice. Ralph obeyed and signed the document, “and here,” a second signature on a second page and two more signatures then Wayne counter signed them all.

“Hasn’t anyone told you to read a document before signing it?” Wayne asked.

“I totally trust you, besides I don’t have anything of value except my life and many have told me it is of no value. I guess it’s something to do with looking after this place.” Ralph answered.

“You sell yourself too short my friend – Far too short.”

Wayne collected the dollar from the table and placed it in his pocket.

“Congratulations Ralph you are now the proud owner of this farm and I have the dollar to prove payment.” Wayne declared.

“What do you mean?” Ralph appeared somewhat puzzled by the transaction.

“Well Ralph, I don’t need the farm and Louise’s father is forcing me to sell it, so I have done what he demanded.”

“I can’t accept it.” Ralph pushed the papers back to Wayne his expression distorted by confusion, believing Wayne was having him for some cruel amusement.

“Don’t you like living here?”

“Of course I do but it’s your family’s farm and I don’t understand.”

“It was once my mother’s family farm but never mine, besides if Louise’s father has his way it will belong to Verrocchi and the house would be knocked down. Jack wanted me to sell it and I have. Maybe that will satisfy Louise; if not well I’ll have to suffer the consequences.”

Wayne removed the coin from his pocket and held it up, “you’ve paid good money so it is now yours but I do hope you let me stay now and then.” Placing the coin back into his pocket Wayne laughed and gently patted the material of his jeans as proof to the coin’s safety.

“This is going much too fast for me to comprehend.” Ralph freely admitted.

“It’s easy; you now have your own property.”

“Why me, you hardly know who I am.” Ralph demanded.

“I believe I know you well enough to realise you’re a good kid and you did stay to help Grace.”

“I liked the old lady and didn’t stay for gain, although I did appreciate somewhere safe to camp.” Ralph admitted.

“Then that is enough for me and there will be no more argument on the matter.”

Ralph appeared to descend into thought then with a broad smile he answered. “I’ll accept on one condition – no two. Firstly it is only my farm on that sheet of paper, nothing more and secondly you will come as often as you wish and stay as long as you want and anytime you wish, it is yours for the same dollar.”

“That is three points.” Wayne laughed.

“Then three it is.”

“I believe we have a deal,” Wayne took Ralph’s hand and the transaction was finalised but as their hands parted Ralph burst into tears.

“Sorry.” He embarrassingly sobbed while fighting back his emotion.

“What’s wrong?” Wayne asked mystified why an uplifting moment should spiral into sadness.

“It’s just that no one has done anything for me before and I don’t know what to say.”

Wayne placed his arms around Ralph’s shoulders to comfort, “then let this be a start eh? Come on I’ve brought some beer with me, let’s have a drink to celebrate our new farmer.”

Wayne felt somewhat relieved after his sale of the farm to Ralph. Also euphoric to think he had given the lad a reason for life and seated together on the verandah he watched Ralph as he slowly sipped his beer. Once or twice Ralph gave a half smile and a slight shaking of his head but remained silent.

“What are you thinking?” Wayne softly asked as the night shift of animals and insects found voice.

“I’m still attempting to get my head around what occurred earlier this evening.”

“It really did happen.”

“I guess so but I find it all somewhat embarrassing, no beyond embarrassing more daunting.”

“Why would it embarrass you?”

“I dunno’, I guess it is similar to receiving an expensive gold watch for Christmas and all you offer in return is a cheap box of chocolates and in this instance I don’t even have the chocolates to give.”

“You paid for the farm with currency.” Wayne explained.

“One single dollar isn’t money.” The lad gently protested.

“What would you call it?”

“I don’t have a worthy word or explanation to describe and what is worse, I guess I never will.”

“I already have a number of houses and a unit on the Esplanade in Cairns, I don’t need another house and most definitely not a farm to look after.” Wayne confirmed.

“Maybe so but you could sell the property and invest the money.”

“I assure you Ralph I already have enough investments to concern with, I don’t need more,” Wayne laughed, “I hope I am not sounding crass, It wasn’t meant to be anything but an explanation.”

“No I’ve never coveted peoples wealth or felt envious.” Ralph finished his beer with a long yawn.

“Am I keeping you up?”

Another yawn and the lad collected the empty beer cans and dumped them in a four gallon drum designed for that purpose at the end of the verandah. “No it was Verrocchi’s dogs they kept me up most of last night chasing the chooks.”

“Did they get into the coop?”

“No I made sure of that.”

“I’ll have a word with him tomorrow.” Wayne offered.

“I guess it’s now my problem.” Ralph answered with a conscious grin.

“If you see the man don’t mention the sale, I’ll do so through Louise’s father; best to comes from me and in this instance I believe Jack should know first.”

“No I won’t say a word. I still can’t believe what you have done, it is far beyond generous.”

“Believe it.”

“Good night then Wayne.

“Yes Ralph, I think I’ll sit here a while and listen to the night life.”

“Good night,” Ralph repeated and retired to his room.

‘He’s a good kid,’ Wayne thought as he heard the click of Ralph’s bedroom light switch while feeling most pleased with his deed and as the thought dissipated another formed, ‘now I guess I’ll cop it from Jack.’ A moment and another thought, ‘what will Louise think?’

Wayne had faith in their relationship, even with the stormy moments it appeared to be sound but Louise did mentioned family loyalty and she could be unpredictable. Would Jack demand termination to their union? Would Louise’s affection towards him be strong enough to hold, or would she agree with Jack and call off the wedding? – A deep sigh, “and would that concern me greatly?” he softly spoke. If it came to cold feet it was possible his were quite icy.

Across the night the flicker of firelight could be seen and distant voices but were soon drowned away by the sound of the bush. Standing at the verandah rail Wayne peered through the darkness towards the light but almost as quickly as it flared it dissipated from sight. He returned to his seat. ‘Must be the blacks’ up at the camp he assumed. He went for a last beer and returned to the verandah.

‘Drinking alone again,’ he thought.

‘You know your principle on that matter, – oh well it’s a celebration why not.”

‘A celebration possibly without a celebratory conclusion,’ became an additional deliberation, as he again considered the outcome with the Miller family.

“Ralph’s a good kid,” he repeated quietly and disputed his utterance. ‘Why did I say that?’ he challenged. “Funny,” he spoke and returned the remainder to thought, ‘I like the kid but cannot describe what I mean by like.’

Voices, they were close, somewhere along the road beside the farm. Young voices one in laughter, one cursing quite loudly. ‘Must be the Verrocchi brothers,’ Wayne assumed then heard a loud whistle and a call to some dog, the animal’s name would have been Italian as it was strange to his ears, another call and abuse, “ya’ fucken’ mongrel!”

“For sure that definitely wasn’t Italian,” Wayne comically admitted. A short silence before more calling and laughing and the sound of a final whistle as the ambience returned to the incessant sound of night life.

“Cicadas,” Wayne spoke of the defining high pitched sound as one commenced to sing then another and another until the whole garden appeared to be alive with them. He read somewhere they had a range up to 130 decibels and plenty high enough to damage hearing.

‘What did we call them?’

‘Locusts, that’s what it was.’

‘They are cicadas, not grasshoppers,’ he corrected his thinking.

Movement high in the rafters at the corner of the verandah caught his eye. Shining green in the dull yellow light it moved in stealthy silence. ‘Tree snake,’ Wayne assumed while advancing to the spot. ‘You should be out in the trees,’ he said and gave the metre of serpent a slight prod with the broom end. It faltered its hunt on a number of small frogs croaking in the encroaching bushes then made a dash for cover in the oleander. Wayne knew it to be harmless but gave a shudder all the same as he watched the tip of its tale disappear into the bush.

The incident reminded him of a large python that once lived in Grace’s shed and how he often stood at distance, while prodding it with a very long stick.

Don’t do that Wayne it is our resident rat catcher. Grace had scalded and closed the shed door to avoid further annoyance to snake. Aunty Grace it may bit me. Wayne remembered his words and his aunt’s reply, Not unless you annoy it, it’s the snakes in the grass you have to look out for so keep out of the long grass by the creek.

With the shed door closed Wayne would stand by the shed’s grimy window and watch, returning to do so at intervals during the day but the snake was always in the same position, never moving, yet its two shiny bead like eyes were ever watching.

Was he frightened by snakes? He guessed so but only those he could not see, while remembering Grace’s warning, a snake hiding in the grass is more dangerous than one in sight.

Hypnotic; Wayne could not recollect feeling so during past visits. He was a kid then and it was adventure he craved; now it was the calming ambience of solitude away from his usual hedonistic lifestyle, away from the intrigue of Jack Miller, of Fay Miller and her attitude and Louise and her need to be constantly entertained and complemented. Ralph wasn’t like any of that, his simple ways were refreshing, his youthful body pleasing and his humour most original and now there was more but more of what?

Wayne took a walk down to the front gate, then for a short distance along the road towards the forest. The night air away from the influence of the ocean was cool while the moon guided his passage with some security.

As he walked he became euphoric and burst into uncharacteristic laughter. The alcohol he had consumed earlier mixed with the cool air kicked in making him light headed bringing song to his lips. The song as quickly dissipated as Jack Miller once again came to mind.

“Damn you Jack Miller!” He cursed into the darkness, “Let’s see how you like this one,” he added on reaching the forest and the sacred one hundred, as the Aboriginal grant was often referred to. Ahead he saw a faint glow in the forest clearing and heard soft sad singing. He paused, listing to the melancholy in the voices. It was most definitely aboriginal but not the rough alcoholic strain which could be heard each night on the Cairns esplanade. This had soul and rhythm. Not wanting to impede on their privacy Wayne reversed his journey.

Back at the farm Wayne took a short cut, cutting off the corner and entering through a gap in the wire fence. As he crossed through the long grass he tripped over a large slab of decaying wood.

“Watch your step there.” Wayne heard from behind.

“Thank you,” Wayne answered and righted himself and turned towards the voice but was alone “Hello?” Wayne called into the night but there wasn’t any answer. Then returning his attention to the slab of wood he turned it and could see an inscription across its flat decomposing surface but even with the strong moon light could not decipher it meaning, so decided to return with the morning’s sun to discover what it could be.

Once again he scanned the house paddock for the stranger who had offered caution but was most definitely alone. ‘Hearing things,’ he thought but could not resist a further demanding of identification, “anyone there?” he asked of the night air and strained his sight into the darkness. He was alone.

“Must have been one of the Verrocchi’s,” he suggested but doubted so, as his knowledge of the brothers would not concern with anothers wellbeing, especially one associated with Grace’s property.

At breakfast Wayne told Ralph about the singing he had heard in the forest the previous night and that he had met someone near the gateway but had lost him in the night’s shadows.

“What kind of singing?” Ralph asked.

“Sort of aboriginal but old world and sad, not like what you hear on the Cairns esplanade from that drunken lot and they were gathered around a camp fire.”

“Strange, how many were there?”

“I don’t rightly know but from my distance there was a number, possibly four.”

“I haven’t heard or seen them on the road of late but I was in town most of the day before you arrived.” Ralph admitted.

“I didn’t wish to interfere but I defiantly saw a group gathered and heard their singing,” Wayne enforced, “and even more strange I tripped near the fence line and someone said to watch my step.”

“I was up near the camp site a couple of days back and didn’t notice anyone.” Ralph conveyed.

“Well I did hear and see something, what about the voice at the gate?”

“Maybe it was one of the Iti’s.”

“He definitely didn’t sound Italian.”

“Probably some local bloke passing,” Ralph added.

“I guess so.”

After breakfast Wayne returned to the front fence and the slab of timber he had tripped upon on the previous night. As he wiped away a century of grime and muck he could clearly see letters beneath and some still holding onto a measure of their original black paint. He read H E N then what appeared to be D and an E and maybe an R, followed by S O N. “Henderson, it is definitely the word Henderson.” Dragging the plank back to the shed he called Ralph.

“What do you make of this?” He asked as Ralph surveyed the inscription and while running his fingers inside the weathered embossing he read aloud.

“Dunno it looks like a sign or something, possibly a farm name or a house name but as you suggested it most definitely spells out Henderson.”

“Maybe it’s this farm’s name?” Wayne suggested.

“Wouldn’t it be McBride?” Ralph corrected.

“I guess you’re right”

“You could ask Biff?” Ralph suggested.

“I could, hey landlord I should be heading back to Cairns tomorrow.” Wayne predicted losing interest in the wasted sign.

“I still don’t feel right accepting such a generous gift.” Ralph lowered his head in embarrassment.

“You’ll get used to it, what do you think you will do with the land?” Wayne asked. He placed the plank of timber with the possible Henderson inscription against the shed wall then stood back in wonder of its meaning.

“Don’t know; I am almost too frightened to think of it otherwise I may wake up, or somehow offend you into changing your mind.”

“No chance as I said I don’t need another property as for family I don’t really have any except for a bunch of cousins I haven’t seen in years but I have become interested in the farm’s history.”

Wayne reached for his mobile telephone then as quickly returned it to his pocket. He was about to contact Louise to advise her of his return, then remembered he was supposed to be in Mareeba and not down at the farm. He laughed.

“What’s funny?” Ralph asked his head bent towards its often quizzical incline.

“Ralph my friend I think I am about to become a single fellow come next week.”

“Why would that be?” Ralph asked.

“Giving you the farm – no sorry I correct, selling you the farm, won’t go down well with Louise’s father, he has already warned me against not honouring the sale to Verrocchi.”

“Sorry.” Ralph apologised.

“It isn’t your fault so don’t take it on, besides of late things haven’t been going well and I was having second thoughts about Louise even before I inherited the farm.” Wayne reached across and gave Ralph a slight push, “so farmer boy what will you do with the farm?”

“What would you like me to do?” Ralph transposed Wayne’s question.

“It’s no good asking me, I don’t know anything about farming.”

“I’d like to run horses.” Ralph suggested his expression distant as his thoughts returned to childhood dreams.

“I don’t know a lot about horses.” Wayne answered.

“Well I guess it is about time you did, they are marvellous animals.”

“They kick and bite.”

“Not if they are treated correctly and trained to your character.” Ralph assured.

“And you can do all that.” Wayne was teasing.

“Not actually but I’ve seen it done and reckon all one needs is time and patience.”

“I dunno but it’s your call Ralph.”

“So I will run horses and maybe start a house garden and grow vegetables and herbs.”

“Potatoes?” Wayne laughed.

“Why potatoes?”

“No reason it’s a running joke with Louise, I offered to make her a farmer’s wife but I won’t repeat her response.”

“Yes most definitely I’ll start a vegetable garden.”

“If you like that idea, you stick to it.” Wayne encouraged.

Ralph diverted from his plans for the farm, “I still feel somewhat responsible for the bad blood between you and Louise.”

Wayne became annoyed with the lad’s persistence, “It hasn’t occurred yet and you can’t take on responsibility for the entire world Ralph, sometimes thing happen outside your control.”

“Still,”

Wayne became serious, “still nothing, I will be going back to Cairns tomorrow and will convey the sale of the farm to Louise’s father, and if you have any trouble from Verrocchi, call me or go and see Biff at the store, you can trust her.”

“The Iti’s don’t much worry me.” Ralph assured.

“They may once they realise what has occurred.” Wayne warned.

“I’ve had such dealings in the past, I think I can manage.” Ralph bravely guaranteed.

“Very well but I wouldn’t approach them about the dogs chasing the chooks, not at the moment anyway”

“If you think that is best.”

“I do but as I said, it is now your farm, so you make your own decisions.”

“When will you be down again?” Ralph asked.

“That I don’t know but if you wish I could come down for a couple of days now and then, see if you need a hand with anything.” Wayne offered.

“I should be alright but I would love the company.”

“What about money?”

“I guess I’ll get by, grow my own food I suppose.” Ralph answered in his usual carefree manor.

“I’ll top up your bank account for you.”

“No Wayne, I’m no longer you’re so described caretaker, I can’t take you money.” Ralph’s tone was definite.

“For now I will and there won’t be any argument about it, call it a non-redeemable loan if you wish.”

“I don’t know your Louise but I will say one thing.”

“What would that be Ralph?”

“The woman’s a fool if she lets you go.”

“I like that Ralph but you have only seen my good side.” Wayne laughed but as he did so his chest filled with previously unknown pride.

“Yes that is what I will do – grow spuds, acres of spuds.” Ralph smiled at the thought.

Wayne interjected, “I may not know much about farming but you won’t be growing potatoes.”

“Why is that?”

“Too hot and humid for potatoes, you need the Tableland for them.”

“Well I’ll grow something else.” Ralph distracted.

“Whatever you grow, I’m sure you will do well.” Wayne concluded.

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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