Dirt Bomb

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Dirt Bomb Page 12

by Beale, Fleur


  ‘See you and the new boots at 3.30,’ Buzz said. ‘Different farm from yesterday. More cows, bigger shed. Can Gramps bring you? It’s further than Nick and Jessie’s.’

  Gramps would definitely take me.

  I collected my bike, but Robbie said, ‘I’ve had enough for today. Might go to the beach.’

  Buzz didn’t want to stay by himself, so we parked the car, stacked up the cones and left.

  ‘Good luck,’ I said to Robbie when we got to his road.

  He lifted a hand and rode off. I went home to find a lasagne fresh from the oven waiting for me to demolish it. I wondered how long Gramps would keep up the good work of encouraging me into becoming a member of the rat-race. Possibly not long, so best make the most of it while it lasted.

  He drove me into town. I could have driven much better, but I had the sense to keep my mouth shut. He bought me real farm boots. I had a stomp around the store in them. ‘Thanks Gramps. No slime inside these fellas.’

  He tut-tutted and bought a bundle of thick socks as well.

  At 3.15 he drove me and my new boots to Buzz’s place. The farm we were working on, Buzz told me, belonged to the Kereopa family, their dog was called Gyp, they had a motorbike instead of a quad, and the shed was twenty-four a side.

  We were busy but I didn’t feel such a klutz as before — kind of got into the rhythm of it too, which got broken when Buzz let out a yelp, then a string of curses. I whipped around to see what had bitten him. I let out a bellow of laughter. He was standing there shaking shit out from where it had gone down between the front of his apron and his tee-shirt. With his other hand he was grabbing for the tit-washing hose and squirting it at the pile of green stuff. He looked at me and grinned. ‘You wait, bro. You’ll cop it at some stage.’

  But not today. We finished up with Buzz minus his tee-shirt. He let me drive the bike back when we’d put the cows to bed. Gyp decided to stretch her legs. I collected my pay, thirty-five lovely dollars. Two more milkings and the bloody fine would be paid.

  Chapter Nineteen

  LICENCES

  I TRIED TO ring Robbie after dinner that night, but his mother said he wasn’t there. She still sounded like I was number one on her list of bad influences, so I didn’t hang about to chat.

  The next day when we met up at his corner, he was grinning his face in half. ‘She didn’t dump you then?’ I asked.

  He shook his head. ‘Nah. She thought I was mad at her for supplying the alcohol.’

  ‘How did she get hold of it?’ This could be a useful piece of info for future occasions.

  He shrugged. ‘Just went and bought it from a bottle store. No probs.’ He set off along the road. ‘We’re going to a movie tonight.’

  And I had a hot date with a cowshed.

  That day, Buzz decided we were good enough to time our reverse slaloms. Robbie wasn’t keen and I knew I hadn’t had enough practice to beat Buzz, but it always put an edge on things when you were aiming for a time to beat. As usual, Buzz was the only one to make it through without collecting a cone.

  ‘That’s going to be a hard time to beat,’ Robbie said. ‘Man, you aced it. Fifty-two seconds — how did you do it?’

  Buzz just laughed at him. ‘You can mock, bro. I’m on the board. Don’t see your name up there in lights.’

  About the middle of the day, Buzz said, ‘Okay, that’s it for me. See you at mine at 3.30, Jake.’

  Robbie checked his phone for the time. ‘Hey man, what’s with packing it in now? It’s not even twelve.’

  Buzz beat his fists on his chest. ‘Got an appointment. After today, my friends, I will be a fully licensed individual.’

  ‘You’re going for your full?’ I asked. ‘Hey man, that’s awesome. I won’t need Gramps to drive me tonight.’

  But Robbie said, ‘You haven’t had your restricted for long enough, bro.’

  ‘Twelve months and a bit,’ Buzz said. ‘Plenty long enough with an advanced driving course done and dusted.’

  We stared at him. Finally I asked, ‘And just when would you have done that?’

  Buzz looked smug. ‘The olds sprang it on me when we were up in Auckland. They’d booked it for a surprise.’

  ‘You didn’t tell us,’ I said. He should have. It was plain wrong to keep something like that to yourself.

  ‘Nah, I didn’t. You didn’t tell us how you got that hundred either.’

  And I for sure wasn’t going to now.

  But Robbie laughed. ‘Don’t be thick — his old man gave it to him.’

  Light dawned in Buzz’s face, so I jumped in quick with, ‘Good luck with the test. You’ll ace it.’

  ‘Do my best,’ Buzz said, but it would be sweet. He was a damn good driver.

  He went off on his mission to become a real driver, Robbie sped off down to the beach, and I went home to break the news to Gramps that he was a free man.

  He just nodded and served us both massive plates full of yesterday’s lasagne. ‘You could start learning the road code,’ he said. ‘Get your learner’s, then I can take you out and start teaching you the finer points of driving.’

  ‘You’re not just a pretty face,’ I said. ‘That’s a really good idea.’ Not the teaching me, though. I didn’t want to end up driving the way he did.

  That afternoon I jumped on the computer, and found the road code plus a whole series of the questions you get asked.

  Gramps came in after about an hour. ‘Jake, leave that thing alone. Come on, I’ll take you into town and you can pick up a copy of the road code.’

  I swivelled around. ‘Thanks Gramps, appreciate the offer. But take a look at this.’

  He bent down to squint at the screen, then stood up, shaking his head. ‘Amazing. Who’d have thought it.’ He frowned, thinking hard enough to send the gears graunching. ‘How about we do a swap, lad. I’ll teach you to drive. You teach me to drive that thing.’ He stabbed a fist in the direction of the computer.

  ‘Suits me,’ I said. It would give me more leverage when I wanted to borrow his car.

  Buzz rang around two. ‘Got it,’ he said.

  ‘Excellent,’ I said. ‘See you at yours, usual time.’

  ‘Better make it 3.15,’ he said. ‘Dad wants to bend our ears.’

  It didn’t take a genius to work out what that was going to be about — being a responsible driver/passenger etc etc, blah blah blah.

  I was right, but I kept a listening expression on my face and nodded when it seemed like a good idea. Frank finished up with the clincher. ‘I trust you to keep to the rules and drive safely.’ He looked at me. ‘Both of you.’

  ‘We will, Dad.’

  ‘Yeah. We’ll be good.’

  That earned me a scorcher of a look.

  When we’d finally escaped and were on the road, Buzz let out a huge breath. ‘Jeez. You wouldn’t read about it.’

  ‘Parents,’ I said. ‘Can’t help themselves. Hey bro, what was the test like today?’

  He looked pleased with himself. ‘It was a breeze. This cyclist came barrelling out of a driveway right across my path, but I’d seen him and was already braking. Missed him by a millimetre.’ He laughed. ‘You should have heard the test guy. He yells, stop! Jumps out and bawls out the cyclist for about five minutes. Poor guy was a jittering wreck by the time he’d finished.’

  ‘I guess it wouldn’t have been a good look if you’d flattened him,’ I said. ‘Lightning reactions. The test guy would have been impressed.’ Buzz deserved his full. I couldn’t wait to get mine too. What a performance, though — learner’s, restricted, then full. I’d be a hundred years old. And I had to pay off the bloody fine before I could get started.

  We were milking for Nick and Jessie again. No dramas, I got to drive the quad, and I collected another pay packet. One more to go and I’d be a free man.

  Buzz drove home carefully and responsibly. I was a model passenger. ‘Driving the Holden’s a lot more fun,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah. But what do we do next?’ I told
him about my dream. ‘I was thinking an Escort would be the way to go. I want a rally car.’

  He said, ‘Me too. Or dirt racing. Track racing. I don’t really care. I just want somewhere I can drive without being careful and responsible.’

  We didn’t say much the rest of the way back. I went home to fire up the computer for another road code session. Speck sat on my lap. Gramps left me alone. Mum came home, ruff ed my hair, told me she was proud of me and then delivered a nasty shock. ‘You’ll be needing to enrol for school soon, Jake.’

  I shrugged the ugly thought away. It was still holidays. I never thought about school till I had to.

  Mum said, ‘Don’t waste this year, darling. That’s all I ask.’

  I grunted but that seemed to satisfy her. If I could see the point to school, it’d be different. I wasn’t dumb.

  I finished the practice test I was doing. Aced it.

  After dinner (roast chicken and slug salad), Buzz rang. ‘Want to milk in the morning? Nick and Jessie’s again. I’ll pick you up.’

  Five a fecking clock in the morning? ‘Okay,’ I heard myself saying. Shit.

  Mum looked amazed, then proud. Gramps smirked but kept his mouth shut.

  WE DIDN’T TALK much on the way there or when we were in the shed. The beats coming from the radio sometimes synched with the sound of the machines, sometimes not. The cows didn’t seem to mind the sparrow’s fart hour. I was starting to recognise some of them. Number 82 hated being first in the line, but Buzz said the trick was to leave the previous cow in first spot so that 82 didn’t freak out and wreck the shed. Number 15 always waited till last, and 239 would make a break for it by following out the milked cows if you didn’t watch her.

  ‘How many times has she got away on you?’ I asked.

  Buzz laughed. ‘Only once. She’s a cunning old devil though.’

  We finished up, put the cows away, cleaned up and tied up the dog. I jumped into the ute, waving my pay packet. ‘How about we rock into town and pay the bloodsuckers?’

  ‘Okay,’ Buzz said, sighing. ‘Best get it out of the way, I guess.’ He shoved his phone at me. ‘Text Robbie.’

  He must have been awake, because he texted back straight away. Where we pay?

  Buzz didn’t know and I hadn’t looked hard enough at the ticket to find out. I sent another text: look on net. C u @ 9.

  Buzz dropped me off, but before he could leave Gramps ran out waving a fish slice. ‘Wait! Breakfast’s on the table.’

  I said, ‘Come and chow down. He cooks a helluva lot better than he drives.’

  We sat down to a feast of sausages, bacon, fried spud and scrambled eggs. I wasn’t going to complain if Gramps thought he had to encourage me with food. Bring it on.

  It turned out we could pay the stupid fine at the bank. That was a nifty touch — take your money out and get it sucked from your hand in one easy motion.

  We were walking into the place when Robbie said, ‘Who gets to pay the extra dollar?’

  It took Buzz and me a second to work that out. But 133 x 3 = 399, not 400. ‘You think they’ll accept $399.99?’ Buzz asked.

  ‘Yeah, and then charge interest on the last cent,’ I said. ‘I’ll pay it. I’ve got enough.’ And possibly I owed them for feeding me when I was an unemployed slob.

  The girl behind the counter took the money. ‘Ouch,’ she said. ‘That must have hurt.’

  She didn’t know the half of it.

  We headed out of town in our usual formation, Buzz leading and me bringing up the rear. At the paddock, we didn’t bother with the cones. It was a day for going f at tack, for putting the car in the air over the jump. Until, that is, Robbie rolled it.

  Buzz was closest, but both of us tore up the paddock. Robbie’s olds would kill us if he was hurt. Or dead.

  The car was end on to us and we couldn’t see Robbie. All we could see were the spinning wheels. It was a relief when we heard him. He was swearing up a storm and cussing everything in sight, but mostly the seatbelt which he was hanging from and couldn’t get undone.

  Buzz and I slowed to a walk. ‘Impressive fluency,’ Buzz said, leaning down to leer at Robbie.

  ‘He’s a smooth talker all right,’ I said. ‘Let’s tip the old girl up the right way.’

  We started rocking the car while Robbie upped the volume on the swearing. ‘Hold tight,’ I yelled. ‘You’re going over!’

  We gave an almighty heave, the car tipped slowly onto two wheels, and we shoved it to help it decide to land on all four wheels and not back on the roof.

  Robbie climbed out while we jeered and mocked him. A trickle of blood ran down one side of his face.

  ‘You’ll be banned from driving if your olds see that,’ Buzz said.

  Robbie wiped the blood away with his tee-shirt — just as well it was black. ‘That was awesome,’ he said. ‘A total blast.’

  We stayed in the paddock until Robbie left to hang out with Jayna, but Buzz had to leave soon after that too. He was doing a solo job and nobody had put their hand up to say they needed me. I wasn’t sorry. It takes it out of a man getting up that early.

  Chapter Twenty

  EARLY MORNING PHONE CALL

  I WAS SOUND asleep and probably in the middle of a brilliant dream about cars and girls when I woke up because my shoulder was taking a beating. ‘What the … Bugger off!’

  It was Mum. ‘Jake, wake up and talk to this woman. She wants you to milk for them.’

  I hauled the duvet over my head. ‘No. No way.’

  Mum hauled it off my head. ‘Talk to her, Jake.’ By the sound of her, she wasn’t going to let me alone until I did.

  I took the phone. ‘What?’

  Mum glared. I shut my eyes.

  ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,’ phone woman babbled. Man! She was crying — howling her eyes out, I’d say.

  I wriggled up further on the pillow. ‘Who are you?’ And why are you crying into my ear in the middle of the night?

  I took a look at the clock. 5.18 — in the freaking morning.

  I heard her snatch in a breath. ‘Sorry. I can’t think … I’m Louise Long. We need a milker. My husband …’ She started to cry again.

  Mum reached for the phone. ‘Tell me what the trouble is, Louise. Calm down. If Jake can help you, he will.’ She glared at me.

  Like hell I would.

  But Mum was listening and then she was asking for directions. To put the finishing touch on the conversation, she said, ‘You do realise that Jake is very inexperienced? He’s only milked four times in his life, and never by himself before.’

  Mum! What the hell are you getting me into? A second later I found out. Louise’s husband had been carted off to hospital because he’d collapsed in the middle of bringing the cows up to the shed. She was desperate to rush to his side, according to Mum, but she couldn’t until she’d found a milker.

  ‘How the hell did she get hold of my name?’ I growled, not moving in an upward direction.

  Mum got snappy. ‘I don’t know. But she did and she’s relying on you. Get up now and I’ll take you.’ She snatched a bunch of clothes off the floor and threw them at me. ‘Move, Jake. I’ll make some toast. You can eat it on the way.’

  I moved. There was no escape. I didn’t say a word to Mum the entire journey.

  I got out of the car just as Louise Long got into hers. She was still saying, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ Then she took off. So did Mum. And now I was all alone in the middle of the night at some farm in the middle of nowhere. It would serve the pair of them right if I couldn’t find the fecking shed.

  Unfortunately, it was rather obvious. The cows were in the yard and a bit restless by the look of them. I stood still for a second. I should never, never have decided to earn money by milking. A dog ran up and nuzzled my hand. ‘It’s just you and me, boy,’ I said.

  Best get started. I remembered to wash out the vat. I didn’t have a clue what time the tanker was due, but if I wasn’t finished he’d have to kick his heels
and wait. If tankers did that. Who knew? Not me. I got on with the milking.

  The shed was sixteen a side. Busy enough, Buzz said. Bloody frantic, I would have said. Don’t know how many cows they had — somewhere around a million at a rough guess.

  About forty cows into the milking, I was ready to chuck the whole thing. I was stressing out big time, the cows didn’t like me and they were shitting like there was no tomorrow. It was only a matter of time before one of them let fly with me right underneath. I looked at the yard — swimming in muck and as full of cows as before I’d started. Looked like the whole bloody neighbourhood had wheeled their cows in for the great Jake Stringer to milk them.

  My brilliant mind saved me. I remembered how Buzz dealt with the cow who hated being first in the line. I didn’t have to milk sixteen at once. I would still get through it, even if it took a bit longer. This shed was about to turn into a twelve a side. All I had to do was leave four cows right where they were once they’d finished. ‘Sorry, old girl,’ I said to each one. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll escape soon.’

  I calmed down.

  I’d done around twenty-four more cows when I realised they’d stopped shuffling their feet and the shitting was back to acceptable levels. And when the yard was about half empty I figured I had it under control enough to tackle fourteen a side.

  Gramps was waiting for me by the time I finished the milking. He’d have to wait longer. I had cows to shut in. They seemed to know where they were going, though, so I shut the gate on them and went back to sort out the shed.

  I was washing it down when it crossed my mind to think about my pay. Louise hadn’t mentioned the P word. I hoped she wouldn’t forget, which she might do if the old guy carked it.

  I washed my boots and plodded to the car, carrying with me odour of cow. Gramps didn’t complain, but he drove home with his window right down.

  Mum had gone to work when we got back. I stood under the shower for ages. When I came out, Gramps had done the worker breakfast again. I was right ready for it. He watched me and waited till I’d wiped my plate with a piece of toast before he said, ‘That Louise woman rang.’

 

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