JACK

“Find Jack and he’ll have what you want,” said Andy Gorrie, stooped and peering through the open car window. 

William thanked him for the map and Olive for the tea, then eased the panel van gently forward, reminding himself of the trailer behind. 

As he drove through the gate, he glanced in the mirror to see Olive still standing and waving goodbye and Andy already back staring under the bonnet of one of his cattle trucks.

Andy had commented a month or so earlier, while loading stock from William’s farm in the pre-dawn light, “That wagon propping up the iron shed beside your stockyards is in really good condition and it wouldn’t take a lot to restore it and get it working again.”

“The offside back wheel can’t be rebuilt,” William replied. He too had thought about bringing the wagon back to life. “Sheet of roofing iron must have come off long before I bought the place. Half the felloes are rotted and so are the spokes–and the hub is not usable. The iron tyre is good but not much use without a wheel.”

There was silence but for an occasional far-off cow calling her offspring, now securely penned on Andy’s truck. 

A thin ribbon of light was starting to silhouette the tops of the Mountain ash on the distant ridge high above the farm, and further up the valley kookaburras called joyfully to the new day.

“Go and see Jack Jones.”

“Who and where is Jack Jones?” shouted William.

PIZZA

The motor gave a couple of unhealthy grunts when Rod switched off the ignition of the old Land Cruiser, reminding him he must buy oil soon.

Tonight’s campsite was much like those of the past week, though the landscape here was not so dry or sparse. A wide expanse of good grass beside the narrow ribbon of road, and a nearby creek would provide grazing and water for the horse.

Rod let down the back of the float and backed Betty out onto the soft grass. The fine animal threw up her head and shook her strong neck, then pawed the ground in front of her in anticipation. She was happy to be let out, and keen to move her large and muscular body. 

“Easy girl,” Rod murmured.

Betty snorted and threw up her head again, pleased to be free of the confinement and those long hours in the float.

Rod led her down to a cleared spot beside the creek where drovers watered their stock. The Warmblood mare stood quite still at the edge of the water and moved her head one way then the other, her ears pricked and forward to catch any sounds, while her nostrils flared and twitched as she sampled the fresh new smells. In her whole life, she had never experienced danger when drinking, but her primeval instinct demanded she check thoroughly before drawing in the clear water now cooling her front hooves. 

Leaving the creek, Rod walked and trotted the horse along the roadside for a kilometre before tethering her for the night. He would ride her for half an hour at sun-up before moving on. Betty again stood motionless, listening and smelling the air. Then she walked away from Rod, head down, looking for just that right spot in the sweet grass to begin the night’s grazing.

 YOUNG LOVE

“Sheila is coming over tomorrow. We are going to see some friends of hers, then we’re heading on over to a house in Wauchope that she’s thinking of buying.

“Colin is bringing over the stock we bought on Thursday so you will need to be here to help him unload. Keep them in the yard until I get back and they’ve settled down. Make sure they have fresh water but don’t feed them any hay. They won’t need it. 

“Oh, and by the way, Sheila will drop off her daughter Cynthia here so you will have company for the day. There’s plenty of food in the cupboard so the two of you won’t starve. We should be back late afternoon.”

Paul’s uncle Rodney was ironing a shirt. As the ladies of the town were known to remark, “… he might not have a woman in the house but he manages to keep himself looking smart.”

“How come I haven’t met her daughter before?” Paul enquired.

“She lives on a property north of the river with her father and his sister and family. He manages the place. She goes to school in Albury and only comes to stay with her mother in the holidays. I reckon she’s about your age, maybe a bit older. She’s been around livestock all her life so the two of you will have similar interests. Be nice to her. Sheila says she thinks Cynthia gets a bit lonely on the farm.”

 NIGHT SHIFT

I was working as a nursing aide at a large country hospital before I enrolled at university. I mostly worked night shift, and enjoyed the quietness and the lack of hustle and bustle. The work was easy, just checking on patients through the night.

Some patients were in just overnight, for minor surgery, while other more serious cases where often heavily sedated and only required their life support equipment to be monitored.


This particular night was very quiet. Only half the beds were occupied, and only one of the special care rooms contained a serious case.


Christine, the aide I was to replace, met me as usual. It was two o’clock in the morning and she said everything was under control and the patients were all sleeping comfortably. 


Then Christine took me to the special care room, and we stood outside while she gave me the details of the case, and what we were expected to do. She said that Matron had indicated that, at the moment, it was unclear whether the special care patient would last through the night. 

 KNOCKOUT

When Paul found the boxing tent he couldn’t have been more surprised. 

A large sign announced that the celebrity middleweight Fritz Holland, from America, would be the star performer and that a purse of ten pounds was offered to anyone who could last a full three rounds with the great man. 

Paul had seen his boxing hero, Les Darcy, fight and beat this man at the West Melbourne Stadium five years earlier, after losing to him in Sydney the year before. It was a match Paul would never forget. What luck it would be for him to get into the ring with Fritz Holland. 

Paul headed to the butcher’s stockyards on the edge of town where he and Jack and two other young workers from the Ocean Road gang were camped for the weekend. The hot sun was tempered by a south-westerly sea breeze and the silence of the bush was broken only by flocks of noisy lorikeets.

ANIMAL INSTINCT

Kevin mentioned the newcomer to Jake one day. It was a quiet moment around mid-morning and the big concrete and corrugated iron Co-op building was empty but for the two of them.

Sos Semple had been working in the little coastal town for six weeks before anyone knew he was there. This was unusual. Kevin at the Co-op knew about the new man working on the dredge, but not until Sos had been there for a few weeks. 

Kevin mentioned the newcomer to Jake one day. It was a quiet moment around mid-morning and the big concrete and corrugated iron Co-op building was empty but for the two of them.

“Have you met the new fella on the dredge, Jake?” Kevin asked casually as he wrote out the docket. He bent low over the counter the better to see what he was writing.

“No, I didn’t know the job had been filled,” replied Jake.

Both men were quiet for a moment, then Jake said, “I reckon I’d go mad pumping sand over that sea wall and watching it wash back in again on the next big tide.”

“Someone has to do it,” said Kevin, straightening up and looking at Jake. 

SPIN

“Look Jamie, look! Baby lambs everywhere!”

Jamie glanced up from his device long enough to look out of the car window. The landscape was bright green even though the country was in a severe drought. Then he saw the tell-tale black mini water-wheels, signalling that they were passing through an irrigation area. Still pumping scarce water to fatten lambs. Jesus! Will we never get it right? he asked himself.

“Very nice, lovely little lambs, Gran.” 

“And if they’re very lucky, they will become missionaries when they grow up.”

It was a few moments before what Gran had said registered with Jamie. He was quite busy typing a reply to a question on a forum which wanted information about alternative coding for a new smart-phone application. 

“Missionaries? What do you mean, Gran?”

LOVE LOST

Kate noticed Jack and his mate Paul when she went down the street shopping for her mother some weeks before he and she first met.

Jack had driven to the town with the horse and dray from the road-building camp and was loading bags of potatoes in the lane beside Mrs Johansson’s general store. 

When Mrs Fleming’s kelpie bitch–which she had told to stay with her neat little pony and trap parked below the pines on the foreshore–started lunging at the feet and tail of the heavy horse between the shafts of the dray, the big animal only put its ears back and stamped its front foot.

Then the dog aimed higher at the inner loose skin of the front right leg and attached its teeth to an exposed area of the softer hide, then discovered it could not let go. 

At that point, the gelding threw up its back legs, kicking the dray and sending three bags of potatoes to the ground where they split open spreading potatoes over a large area of the lane.

Onlookers were aghast. But the tall young men with the horse and cart acted without panic or fear.