by Scott Monk
‘Catch you later Brett, all right?’ Rebecca said as an afterthought. ‘Come and see me.’
Brett didn’t have a chance to answer. Smiling Joe wrapped her up in his arms and they disappeared through a side exit. Fuming, Brett was overwhelmed by bad thoughts.
He pounded up the steps of a stand and sat down next to an old lady with purple hair. She gave him a dirty look for picking the seat next to hers, but he ignored it. He didn’t watch the show, preferring to tune out instead. He wasn’t in the mood. His ex had dumped him for an older guy: one of the sleazy cowboys he’d heard talking dirty about their girlfriends outside. He wanted a beer.
He was about to try and find one when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned round to tell whoever it was never to touch him.
‘Caitlyn!’
‘Hi,’ she said.
‘G’day.’ He was cool. ‘How long have you been sitting there?’
‘A few minutes. I thought you saw me when you were walking up the stairs, but I guess you didn’t.’
‘No, sorry. I was kind of distracted.’
Caitlyn glanced at the side entrance Rebecca and Smiling Joe had disappeared through. ‘Something to do with your friends?’
‘Well, someone I thought was a friend,’ he said, eyes down.
‘Is anyone sitting here?’ Caitlyn said, pointing to the spot next to his. It was too small for anyone to sit comfortably in, but Brett made room. An appalled look in her eyes, the lady with purple hair eventually shifted over too.
Short for room, Caitlyn’s shoulder, arm and hip pressed against his. Brett felt kind of excited but kind of cramped at the same time. This was the closest he’d ever been to her but she was in his space. He didn’t know what to do.
‘Thanks,’ Caitlyn said. ‘I hope you don’t mind. It looks like you could do with some company.’ There was that smile of hers again and Brett offered one of his own. ‘Who was the girl you were with?’
‘Nobody,’ he answered. ‘Just an old school friend from Sydney. I found out she’s hitched up with this rodeo.’
‘What as?’
‘One of those junk stall sellers. You know, the ones with pictures of John Wayne.’
‘Tacky.’
‘Tell me about it.’
The announcer introduced the next rider to the crowd, distracting Caitlyn and Brett for a second.
‘So what happened to your hair?’ Caitlyn asked.
Brett’s cheeks burned and he ran his hand over his spiky scalp. Looking at his feet, he said, ‘I thought I’d get a haircut.’
‘What with? A lawnmower?’
The crowd deafened the sound of Caitlyn’s laughter as Sweety Pie flung another rider to the ground. Insulted, Brett fumed in his seat, ready to storm off.
‘Smile,’ Caitlyn said, resuming her seat with everyone else. ‘It was a joke.’
Brett forced a grin and pulled down his cap.
‘So why haven’t I seen you round this week?’ she asked. ‘I tried to find out from a couple of guys when I dropped off some more supplies but they said they didn’t know where you were.’
‘Probably working,’ he answered, rolling his eyes. ‘Sam’s always thinking up things for me to do.’
‘I know what you mean. Mr Thompson’s the same.’
‘Yer, but Mr Thompson doesn’t make you cut firewood or throw water on you if you don’t get up at six o’clock in the morning.’
‘Sam does that, does he? That explains it then.’
‘What?’
‘Why you’re a little wet behind the ears,’ she laughed.
Brett looked at Caitlyn to see if she was mouthing him off or just joking. Meeting someone you didn’t know was always tricky. And trying to chat up a girl you liked made it even harder. Finally, she elbowed him to laugh too and he did.
‘I was wondering why I hadn’t seen you round too,’ he said.
‘Why’s that?’ Caitlyn asked, still smiling. ‘Were you hoping?’
Brett’s face reddened. ‘No, no. I was just, er, going to say hi, that’s all.’
‘Or get your fix for moving boxes for the day, huh?’
‘Yeah,’ he smiled.
DINGALINGALING!
Another rider shot out of the holding chute. Sweety Pie twisted and turned with the cowboy trying to hold on like crazy. The crowd rose to its feet as the rider beat its expectations and made it to five seconds without being broken in half. He was only another three away from a thousand —
‘Oooooh!’
The crowd’s sigh echoed round the showground as the rider crashed to the ground and everyone sat down again. Brett looked behind him then turned to Caitlyn. ‘Are you here with anyone?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Mum and Dad. They’re down near the centre ring talking about beef prices no doubt.’
‘I hope they won’t spit it when they see you hanging out with a criminal.’
‘I’ve hung out with worse.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ Brett smiled. ‘How about your boyfriend? Is he here?’
He had to ask, just to make sure he wasn’t muscling in on another guy’s chick. He must’ve offended Caitlyn though, because she stopped smiling. ‘We broke up three months ago,’ she answered, looking away at the main arena again.
The crowd cheered and jeered another rider as Brett and Caitlyn sat quietly among it. Idiot! He’d ruined everything now. Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!
‘Sorry,’ he apologised when the crowd quietened. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘Don’t be,’ Caitlyn said. ‘I’m not.’
She smiled weakly and Brett felt partly forgiven.
Caitlyn’s stomach rumbled and she quickly excused herself.
‘Do you want something to eat?’ Brett offered, pulling out his wallet. The guys had been given ten dollars worth of vouchers each.
‘No, I’m okay,’ she said.
‘You sure? I’m kind of hungry myself.’ Caitlyn hesitated, leaving him an opening. ‘C’mon. My shout. What do you say?’
‘Okay,’ she relented. ‘But I’ll pay.’
They argued playfully about that as they made their way over to the hot food vendor. Finally reaching an agreement they’d buy their own food, Brett ordered a cup of hot chips and a Coke and Caitlyn a Pluto pup and a lemonade. He was glad she chose something greasy and nothing healthy like tabouli because girls obsessed with their weight turned him off. They always said dumb stuff like “I’m too fat,” when they weren’t, or “I can’t eat that. It’s too fatty”. What was the point of looking like a model if you weren’t happy?
Whatever, after grabbing their food, they headed back to the stand. The route was choked so Brett suggested they take the long way round and Caitlyn agreed.
‘How’s The Farm going?’
Brett shrugged. ‘Okay,’ he lied. He didn’t want to think about it that night. He was free of it — if just for two hours. ‘Although I like being here a lot more. I’m glad Sam let us come. I just can’t believe I didn’t see you sitting behind me.’
‘Well, I first saw you over by the announcer’s booth and I tried to catch you but you were walking too fast. It looked like you were searching for someone so I didn’t want to stop you.’
The words, ‘Yer, I was looking for you too,’ rumbled in Brett’s throat but he bit them back. That would be too obvious. Just because Caitlyn and he had shared a few laughs didn’t mean she actually liked him yet.
‘I was trying to find Frog,’ he lied.
‘Robbie!’ a voice croaked behind him. ‘How many times do I have to tell you my name’s Robbie?’
‘Frog?’
Brett and Caitlyn stopped and turned round to see the twelve-year-old trailing behind them. Little sneak. Brett wondered how long he had been following them, listening to their conversation.
‘Stop calling me that.’
‘Sorry, kid. It slipped out.’
‘Hi, Robbie!’ Caitlyn was slightly amused.
‘Hi, Caitlyn. I thought you might be here tonight,’ he sai
d, glancing at Brett with a knowing grin. If he said anything —!
‘What do you want, Robbie?’ Brett asked.
‘I just wanted to know if you’d seen Paul. He and Darren said they’d meet me here five minutes ago.’
‘Have you checked outside?’
‘No, I tried to but Sam caught me and told me to get back inside.’
Brett looked at the front gate. ‘Sam’s not there now. Nick out while he’s not looking.’
Frog nodded and waved goodbye. Brett breathed deeply. Good. He could’ve been really embarrassed if the kid had stuck round. There was no way of telling what Robbie would let slip to Caitlyn.
‘Are you and Robbie friends?’ she asked.
‘Worse. Roommates.’
‘He’s not that bad is he?’
‘Try sleeping with him in the same room at one o’clock in the morning,’ Brett said. ‘The kid never sits still.’
They stopped at the bottom of the stand and Brett stepped back to let Caitlyn go first. He was about to follow her when Sam called out behind him.
‘You haven’t seen Paul, Darren or Robbie have you?’
‘I just saw Robbie. He’s gone to the toilets. He’ll be back in a minute,’ Brett lied. He didn’t want to get the kid into trouble.
‘At least I know where he is now.’
‘What? You can’t find the other two?’
‘No. Somebody told me they’ve gone into town. If I find out they have —’ With a jutting jaw, the old man slowly ran his hand down his tanned neck, like he was pushing back the anger. He looked round the showground then spotted another guy from The Farm. ‘If you see Darren or Paul, tell them I want to see them immediately, okay?’
‘Will do.’
Sam left and Brett climbed up to his seat. Caitlyn, beautiful as ever, was waiting for him. ‘Brett, I’d like you to meet my mother and father,’ she said.
He paused, taken aback. ‘Er, hi,’ he said, shaking hands.
An aging man and a woman with grey hair said hello. They hadn’t been there before.
‘I don’t think we’ve met,’ Mr Douglas said. ‘Are you new in town?’
Brett nodded. ‘Er, I’ve been here about three weeks now.’
‘What? Did your parents get jobs in the district?’
‘Not exactly,’ Brett mumbled, already looking round for an escape route.
When he didn’t offer any more information, Mrs Douglas asked, ‘Where are you staying, Brett?’
‘On a property just out of town.’
‘Which one?’
‘Er, I don’t know its name.’
‘Who owns it then? Your parents? Or are you staying with someone?’
‘Staying with someone.’
‘Who?’
‘You probably wouldn’t know him.’
‘Yes we would,’ Mrs Douglas laughed. ‘One thing about country towns is everybody knows everybody and what they are doing. So, who is it?’
Brett gulped. ‘Sam Fraser.’
‘What? Sam Fraser who runs the detention centre?’ Mr Douglas jumped in.
‘Well, it’s not really a detention centre —’
‘Oh yes it is! It might have a fancy name, but it’s still a jail for criminals.’
‘Dad!’
‘Don’t shout at your father, Caitlyn.’
‘Mum!’
‘And don’t shout at your mother,’ Mr Douglas said. ‘We’ve warned you about talking with these … these criminals.’
‘What did you just call me?’ Brett demanded.
‘Exactly what you are — a criminal.’
Brett’s jaw clenched tight as he glared at Caitlyn’s father. Mr Douglas recognised the threat and stood up, readjusting his belt while he looked down at him. ‘Do you have a problem, son?’
‘Hey! Down in front!’ a spectator shouted out.
‘Yeah, you too, Douglas!’
Caitlyn’s father looked at the crowd and realised that he’d suddenly become the centre of attention. A third spectator yelled out, and Mrs Douglas tugged her husband’s arm. ‘I think we better leave,’ she said.
‘I think you’re right.’
‘Dad! You said we could stay till the end,’ Caitlyn protested.
‘I’ve changed my mind. Now c’mon.’
‘Caitlyn, don’t go,’ Brett said.
‘Dad!’
‘No! We’re going home.’
Mr Douglas grabbed his daughter’s wrist as his wife picked up their gear. Without a goodbye, they left Brett at the top of the stand. He watched them march through the crowd towards the exit; Caitlyn trying to unlock her father’s hold. Angry, Brett gave chase, pushing against the large horde. The more he tried to charge through it though, the more it pushed him back. Finally, cursing, all he could do was watch them go. Caitlyn looked over her shoulder at him and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’
A piglet squealed as several kids leapt to catch it. A muddy hand grabbed its slippery tail but couldn’t hold on. It kept running until it hit the far wall then did an about turn. Another kid lunged forward and missed, landing face-first in the mud. The future rasher of bacon didn’t wait a second more and bolted across the mini-arena. Two boys also tried to grab it but failed. Finally, a girl in a dress now caked head-to-foot in brown gunk cornered the piglet and tackled it. The crowd laughed and applauded as she clutched it to her chest and beamed a white smile as the announcer handed her a hundred bucks cash.
‘Somehow I think you better give that to your mum and dad to buy some new clothes,’ he joked.
Everyone laughed again. Except Brett that was. He leaned against the railings, staring at the game of slippery pig but not seeing a thing. All he could think about was Caitlyn’s parents dragging her away; saying that he was a criminal. Fair enough, it was the truth; but using it as an excuse to stop him and Caitlyn being friends made him angry. He had a hundred comeback lines stewing in his head but they were useless now. Mr Douglas and his daughter had left an hour before.
In that time, Brett had met up with Michael Lydell from the stables then Josh. Michael and Josh were firm friends and Brett had to put up with Mr Goody Two Football Boots when Michael called him over. They’d stood round watching the show, Michael blabbing on about buying a carton of smokes from one of the rodeo’s cowboys. Bargain basement prices, he said. Back of a truck stuff, y’know. A trader’s paradise. He offered Brett a cut if he was interested after Josh had firmly said no. But Brett declined. He was deciding whether to find out where Caitlyn lived and have it out with her old man.
‘What’s wrong with Sam?’ Josh asked, just as the next event was announced.
‘I don’t know.’ Michael hid the carton of smokes behind his back. ‘But I’m not hanging round to find out.’
He left.
‘Brett!’ Sam had spotted him. ‘Where did you say Robbie went again?’
‘I thought he went to the toilets.’
‘He’s not there. I couldn’t find him.’
‘Any sign of them?’ Mary called out, metres away now.
‘No,’ Sam shouted back. ‘They’re not anywhere inside the showground.’
‘Do you think they’ve gone into town?’
‘They must have.’
‘Who’s missing?’ Josh asked.
‘Paul, Darren and Robbie. You haven’t seen any of them have you?’
‘No.’
Sam turned round and cursed.
‘No sign of them, Sam,’ a big black police sergeant said, joining the group. ‘I talked to a gate attendant and she said she might have seen someone fitting Robbie’s description leave about an hour ago.’
Sam swore again. ‘We better go and find them then.’
‘If you’re not here when the show finishes I’ll take the boys back to The Farm,’ Mary said. ‘I’ll drop them off then meet you outside the pool with the ute.’
Sam nodded but decided against the ute. ‘You stay at The Farm and make sure none of the others decide to spend a night out on the town.’
/> ‘How will you get home?’
‘Kenny’ll help me look for them. I’ll get a lift back with him.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ the big police sergeant said. ‘But we better get rolling.’
Sam and Sergeant Kenny started to leave as Mary began mustering the guys. ‘Do you need a hand?’ Josh asked the old man.
‘No, stay here and help Mary.’
‘But there’s three of them and only two of you.’
‘We’ll manage.’
‘Sam, they’re my friends.’
The old man paused and huffed. Wanting to save an argument, he finally gave in.
‘Then I’m going too,’ Brett said.
‘No you’re not. Somebody’s got to stay here and help Mary.’
‘One of the others can. If Frog’s missing I want to help find him.’ And to make sure Sam understood him, Brett ran out of the showground, ignoring the old man’s calls to come back.
He got a hundred metres down the road before the adrenalin wore off. He didn’t know Mungindi too well so he wasn’t exactly sure where he was headed. He’d only been in town with the guys on the occasional bus trip. He was keen on finding Frog though. He felt responsible for encouraging the kid to leave in the first place. But he kept walking.
Sergeant Kenny, Sam and Josh caught up with him, however, and after another argument, they drove Brett into town to help with the search. The other three cruised round town in the patrol 4WD while Brett checked the main streets and backstreets on foot without any luck. Darren, Paul and Frog weren’t hanging out by the petrol station, garage or takeaway shop. Or the Post Office, police station or schools for that matter either. They were nowhere to be seen.
He crossed the street and turned down another road.
After another fifteen minutes of searching, he sat down on the butcher’s front verandah and took out his cigarettes. He lit his smoke then drew back. He hadn’t managed to give up just yet.
Brett was about to blow a smoke ring when suddenly an arm lassoed him from behind!
‘There you are!’ a girl’s voice laughed in his ear. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’
Mad, Brett broke free of the grip and twisted round.
