by Tony McKenna
‘Borrow your bike?’ Jack scoffed. ‘We don’t need to borrow your bike.’ He leant against the gatepost and unconsciously took the makings from his pocket to roll a cigarette.
Harry sniggered ‘Do ya think we’d ever touch ya bike again? Except to maybe chuck it in the creek.’
Billy watched wide-eyed as Jack rolled the cigarette with one hand, licked the gummed paper and stuck it in his mouth. ‘Gee whiz, Jack, that’s a good trick.’ Billy looked about nervously, hoping no one would see him with another boy, smoking in the park.
‘What trick? Oh, this?’ Jack struck a match and lit his smoke. ‘Have to learn to roll ’em one handed when you smoke and ride a horse drovin’, Billy.’
‘You rode a horse, Jack?’ He turned to Harry ‘How about you, you ride one too?’
‘Harry’s a gun horseman, Billy. He owns a big black colt called Brumby. He was cut from a mob of wild horses by Tom Cooper and his crew out near Angus Downs station in the Territory.’
‘That right? Gee. I rode a pony at the show last year. Dad says I went well and he might get me one so I can join the pony club.’
Jack glanced at Harry but didn’t ridicule the kid in the short grey pants holding the blue bicycle. ‘That’s great, Billy. Should be a lotta fun. Well, we better be gettin’ on home, Billy.’ He stubbed the butt out, grinding it under his boot. ‘See ya ’round.’
‘You sure ya don’t wanna borrow me bike? No problem ya know.’ Billy offered once more but knew in his heart as he watched his old friends walk away that they were well past ever wanting a ride on his bike.
‘Everythin’s not the same back here any more, Jack, is it?’ Harry commented as they walked out of the park.
‘Yes, it is, Harry, that’s the problem. Everythin’ is the same … but we’re not.’
Sunday was a warm autumn day with clear skies and a light breeze that dropped off by mid-morning. The boys were glad to see their mothers in particular, smiling and happy as they packed the picnic hampers into the vehicles. The two families started to squeeze into the cars with the smaller kids squabbling and vying for position, giggling and laughing together.
‘Let’s make this a good day, Harry.’
‘It will be, Jack, I can tell.’
It was. There was only light traffic and the beach at Cottesloe was sparsely occupied. Jack’s father said that they should only come to the beach at this time of year instead of in the summer when it was packed. ‘Bit too cold for a swim though,’ he added.
‘Not for me.’ Jack pulled his shirt over his head and flung it onto the sand. ‘Race ya to the water, Harry. Last one in’s a rotten egg,’ he yelled over his shoulder as he sped off toward the light surf with Harry in close pursuit.
The younger children splashed around in the shallows, oblivious of the coolish weather, while Timothy kept up with the two older lads out in the deeper swell, body surfing to the beach. Alice watched her two oldest sons proudly but a phantom of concern flickered across her mind as she realised that Timothy was only a few months younger than Harry had been when he and Jack had left home. She shook her head, dismissing the thought, watching her husband and Claude on their knees helping the younger kids build sand castles at the water’s edge and laughing as the littlies squealed with delight and feigned terror when a wave rolled in.
They picnicked on the lawn overlooking the water and Jack and Harry spoiled their brothers and sisters by buying hot chips, ice cream and soft drinks for them. ‘You shouldn’t go wasting your money like that,’ Alice scolded but was proud, nonetheless, of the boys’ generosity.
Back at the Ferguson home Jack and Harry set the fire and lit it while the two fathers sat back having a couple of beers. ‘We’ll cook tonight,’ Harry said.
‘Won’t object to that, eh, Claude?’
‘Can you cook?’ Claude asked with a laugh, ‘or do you burn the snags like your father, Jack?’
The younger children were tired from the day’s activities, sun and fresh air so, after they had eaten, Alice decided to put them to bed. ‘OK, baths everyone.’ She herded the protesting kids into the house.
‘Yeah, we should be off too.’ Claude picked up empty beer bottles and put them in the rubbish bin. ‘Tomorrow’s Monday and an early start for everyone. You two …’ He spoke directly to Jack and Harry ‘… have new adventures starting tomorrow, eh?’
‘I suppose we do, yes,’ Harry agreed.
‘It’s been a top day, Jack.’ Claude clapped his friend on the back. ‘Must do it more often.’
‘Sure was, Claude. Nice to have all the family together too. It was a lot of fun but I think we might wait until the summer kicks in before we do it again, as I don’t mind a swim but I’m not as hardy as these young fellas.’
Alice snuggled close to Jack that night after putting all the kids to bed and looking in on Jack asleep in his old bed in the room he shared with his younger brother Timmy.
‘That was a beautiful day, Jack.’ Alice sighed and yawned. ‘Mmm, it was,’ He replied sleepily.
‘Nice to see Jack joining in and helping so much. He’s certainly grown up a lot since he’s been away. Maybe Coober Pedy didn’t do them all that much harm after all, dear.’
‘No, probably not. There was a purposeful attitude in both of them today I hadn’t seen since they came home. I think they’ve made up their minds at last as to where their futures lie.’
The alarm clock jangled Alice awake. Reaching out, she hit the button and the ringing stopped. Her husband stirred. ‘What time is it, Alice?’
‘Six o’clock, dear. You stay there for a bit and I’ll put the kettle on and wake Jack up so he can get ready for work. You’ll take him in of course?’
‘Yeah. I’ll introduce him to the blokes down at the yards. He’ll be OK.’ He turned over burying his head in the pillow. ‘Bring me a cuppa please, Alice?’
‘You lazy beggar,’ she laughed, slipped from the covers and put her dressing gown on. ‘Bbrrr,’ she shivered, ‘it’s chilly this morning.’
Jack dozed, waiting for Alice to return with his cup of tea when he heard her cry out. ‘What is it, Alice?’ He jumped from the bed hearing her gasp again and ran to the kitchen, fearing she had burnt herself on the stove but when he found her she was standing beside the table holding a piece of paper in her hand.
‘What is it, Alice, what’s the matter?’ She didn’t reply but shakily handed him the paper and his heart leapt when he recognised his son’s handwriting.
Dear Mum and Dad
Harry and I have thought this through long and hard. We don’t fit in back here any more. I know you and Dad have tried to do all you can for me and are worried about my future but you have to understand that I already have a future. A future that came by accident the day Billy Munse said we stole his bike.
I’m sorry about the Elders job Dad and I don’t want to disappoint you but there’s something you need to know. Harry and me own a claim at the nine-mile diggings. We bought it from Ishmo the Afghan for two hundred pounds and it’s showing a lot of promise. We have found enough so far to pay for the mine, keep us in tucker and help Reynold out with a small share. We also paid for our trip over and still have a few hundred between us to go back with.
Jack sat down at the table, a lump in his throat as he read. Alice was sobbing quietly beside him, reading over his shoulder.
When Bruno called the other day it was not only to say thanks. When we opened the envelope it wasn’t a card as we thought, but there was a note in it saying he’d been to the Department of Mines and transferred the ownership of his mine over to us as a reward for saving his life. He also put the certificate in the envelope as proof. I know you are worried but it was just an unfortunate and uncommon accident that the drive caved in and we can shore it up and keep mining. Bruno sold the opal he found for over twenty five thousand pounds and there has to be more there. Maybe not as big but just as valuable. Paddy can’t do it on his own and even with Reynold to help they can’t work two mines.
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Please don’t worry about us. I know you think everyone out at Coober is running from something and we were like that too once. But there are many people who are there because they want to be there and we have really good friends. If you are worried you can talk to Ron Carter the police sergeant. He’s our friend and also Iris Smith the nurse who fusses after us a bit like you do Mum. Shaun Logan is the catholic priest and although we don’t go to church he’s become a good mate to us all. We have horses, a dog, a Land Rover, two working mines and real good friends. I know it’s not what you had planned for me but I’ve learned in the past months that plans alone don’t make futures but opportunities do.
Mr and Mrs Turner will be reading a letter almost the same as this and I know they’ll be upset so hope you can get together with them and help them understand why we have to return home to Coober Pedy.
At least this time you will know where I am and you can write c/- the police station and I promise to telephone when I can.
I hope you forgive me but ask you again to understand. It’s a fact that when you’ve spent time out there it gets in your blood and your life changes forever, nothing else compares to chasing the fire in the stone. Say goodbye to Timmy and the kids. Tell them I’ll write soon.
Your loving son, Jack.
Jack placed the letter gently on the tabletop and stared at it. Alice had stopped crying but her voice was thick with emotion. ‘He’s gone, Jack, my boy has gone again.’
Jack didn’t comment immediately but continued to stare at the carefully composed note then, taking a deep breath he stood, placed his arms around his wife and, drawing her gently to him, he stroked her hair. ‘Yes, he’s gone. But not your boy, Alice, your man. Jack’s no longer a boy.’
The telephone’s strident bell was insolently loud in the morning quietness. They knew before they answered that it was the Turners and that they too had found an empty bed with a note from their son saying he and Jack had returned to search for the elusive ‘Fire in the Stone.’
