Redstone Station

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Redstone Station Page 13

by Therese Creed


  He grabbed Bonnie by the arm. ‘I reckon we might just nip out for some fresh air.’ He had quite a battle getting her out of the pub. She resisted, stopping every couple of metres to turn and hurl back obscenities which, Jeremy had to admit, were even more creatively foul than the ones she was receiving.

  Once outside, Jeremy pulled Bonnie a little distance from the pub, just in case anyone had the motivation to follow them out. They sat at a rough wooden table at the dark end of the little courtyard. Jeremy listened patiently while Bonnie continued to rant and fume. Finally she paused for breath and to look at a mob of muscled youths who were arriving on the scene. The athletic-looking crew had just carried a half forty-four-gallon drum to the well-lit end of the courtyard and set it down.

  ‘The Warrigals – local rugby team,’ Jeremy explained quietly. ‘Heading home from the charity match at Longreach – do it every year. Money goes to the Flying Doctors. They’ll be dropping off some blokes from here on their way through. This’ll be the initiation for the rookies. “Flaming Arses”, I’d say.’

  Bonnie clapped her hands in delight, all her fury forgotten. They watched while the drum was stuffed with newspaper and sticks. One of the team poured on some fuel and the igniting was accompanied by a hearty cheer. For a minute or two, Bonnie and Jeremy were illuminated with fiery light.

  Some of the boys looked up and yelled greetings when they saw Jed. ‘Hey, it’s King Jed! Didn’t join us this year, mate? We were a couple short too.’

  Jeremy nodded in greeting at the coach. ‘G’day, Webber. Not this year, mate. Done my time.’

  The big man shook an accusing finger at Jeremy. ‘Bloody shame. Still, can’t stand here crying all night. Got things we need to be doing.’

  Bonnie and Jeremy watched while a group of six of the youngest and greenest-looking boys were shoved into the middle of a rough circle formed by the others. Each was presented with a tightly rolled piece of newspaper. Then, on the command, they obediently dropped their pants and stood in readiness. They were shuffled into place around the burning drum, their backs facing the flames and their faces staring wide-eyed out into the darkness. The coach told them good-naturedly, ‘You can wait for one of us to do it or you can stick ’em in yourselves.’

  The boys unanimously chose the latter. Bending forwards slightly, each youth inserted one end of his paper roll and waited.

  ‘Now!’ On the command, the rookies backed cautiously towards the flames, jostling each other a little to light up the far end of their newspaper cigars. Then they were off, bare-bottomed silhouettes bounding and whooping in all directions, lighting up the darkness around the pub with leaping flame. As each paper torch burned closer to the sensitive region, the cries became more shrill, before merging with the triumphant cheers of the rest of the team. Bonnie was yelling along with the loudest of them, banging her hands on the wooden table.

  The Warrigals milled around with much back-slapping and jubilation, and the newly initiated six eventually returned to retrieve their pants and go inside. The darkness around the pair still sitting at the table seemed extraordinarily quiet in the aftermath. The odd flicker of light was still issuing from the smouldering drum.

  ‘Now that was worth seeing.’ Bonnie sighed in satisfaction.

  ‘Hasn’t been all bad then, our night out on the town?’ Jeremy asked.

  ‘Bad? It’s been great so far!’

  ‘What about your little blue with my mates in there? Didn’t spoil your fun?’

  ‘Hey, there’s nothing better than a good blue! Did you see how mad they got? I was just getting warmed up when you dragged me away! I’ll do even better next time if I get half a chance.’

  Jeremy laughed in admiration. ‘You’re blooming different, you are. I can see why Alice thinks so much of you.’

  ‘Aw shucks!’ Bonnie laughed.

  They heard a roar from inside the pub, followed by clapping. Someone was performing for the footy team.

  ‘Where to now then?’ Jeremy asked. ‘I was thinking I should go in and see old Hammerhead about getting some cheap leg opener and giving it to ya, before we head off somewhere more private.’ He looked at Bonnie curiously, awaiting a reaction. But she didn’t arc up.

  ‘Nah.’ Her tone was flat. ‘Don’t think it would work – for either of us. What you really want is some sort of potion that would transform me into Alice. I can’t imagine Hammerhead has anything that sophisticated. And cheap leg opener wouldn’t do it for me either. Not when I know you’re so wrapped up in my best mate.’

  Jeremy was astounded. He stiffened up, concentrating all his energy on trying to look nonchalant. How much could Bonnie see in the dark? This chick was a bloody wildcard.

  ‘Don’t bother trying to deny it, King Jed. Anyway, I don’t blame you one bit. It’s the one thing I’ve observed about you that proves you’ve got some brains after all – you falling for her.’

  There was a short pause, then Jeremy gave in. ‘Righto then, Miss bloody Psychic, do you reckon you can tell how she feels about me?’

  ‘Ah, now that’s a different story. My loyalty’s not that easily compromised.’

  ‘Might have to go and see Hammerhead after all, to get some cheap tongue loosener,’ Jeremy suggested.

  Bonnie laughed. ‘Won’t do you any good either, buddy. I can read Alice better than most people can, but this one’s got me stumped. I’m not sure she even knows herself.’

  ‘Knows what? If she likes me?’ He was dismayed.

  ‘Whether she should allow herself to or not. Whether she even wants to. That girl’s got the strongest head of anyone I know. Don’t be deceived by her docile appearance. She’s bloody stainless steel when she makes her mind up.’ Bonnie spoke with admiration in her voice.

  Jeremy slumped in his seat. ‘You reckon I should give up on it then?’

  ‘That’s your call, mate. Depends how badly you want her. How long you’re prepared to keep on trying. Has she taken you to the Brumby Spring yet, in the national park?’

  ‘Yeah. Why?’

  ‘That’s a good sign. She has some weird cosmic thing going on with that place.’

  ‘She took me there in my first week at Redstone.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘She said she trusted me ’cause I had a kind eye.’

  ‘Yep, that sounds like Alice logic.’

  They sat in silent thought for a time, then Bonnie went on, ‘If it’s any comfort to you, I know how you feel. Been besotted with a fella called Brad for the last two years now. He thinks I’m a good laugh, but as far as taking me seriously goes . . . He’d sooner throw himself at these delicate, brain-dead types. You know – the skinny, giggly ones with nice teeth.’

  ‘Hell eh, Bonnie. That sucks.’

  ‘Yeah, it does.’ She sagged a little.

  ‘Hold on for a bit, I’ll go and see Hammerhead.’

  An hour later the pair were parked at the riverbank, incoherently oblivious to their problems. They were sitting in the tray of the ute, Jeremy with his arm around Bonnie, swaying from side to side. They alternated between singing snippets of every sad song they could think of and erupting into bouts of hysterical laughter. They toasted Alice, they toasted Brad, Jeremy’s father and Bonnie’s mum. They toasted all the people they could remember who had ever caused them pain.

  They woke the next morning snuggled up together in Jeremy’s swag stretched out in the back of the ute. They were covered in dew and sour condensation from the inside of the canvas cover.

  ‘Have I got my clothes on?’ Bonnie’s words were slurred and dull.

  ‘Yep. And my belt’s still done up.’

  ‘Good-o.’

  Jeremy made a fire and boiled the billy in silence while Bonnie went to wash her face in the river. He hugged his knees close to his chest as he squatted, staring into the flames. It wasn’t just the hangover that was making him feel lousy. Having acknowledged his feelings for Alice, he couldn’t go on denying them to himself. And he was shocked at how power
ful they were. When had this happened? Hadn’t he just wanted to have a bit of fun with the shy little bird?

  While Bonnie drove the first few kilometres out of town, Jeremy scrabbled around valiantly trying to find his sense of humour and crack a few jokes. When he was spent, Bonnie made an admirable effort in return. In the end, two grey faces exchanged sickly, defeated smiles and fell quiet. With the glare of the morning sun behind them, they drove on towards Redstone. Jeremy’s sore head registered every nauseating bump in the road. But at least they had some time to recover. As they sped along, he gradually began to feel the astringent peace of the dry landscape flowing over him. He lowered his shield for a while and the two of them indulged in unspoken, mutual misery. And were firm friends.

  Chapter 18

  Alice had never gone in much for rodeos. Her love of animals and aversion to loud raucous noise took away from the excitement of the spectacle. Rather than admiring the amazing skill of the riders in the sandy ring, Alice became transfixed on the provoked bull or terrified horse trying to dislodge the predator it believed to be attacking it. So she wasn’t absolutely sure why she offered to drive Jeremy to a local event.

  Alice knew that for a few years now, ‘King Jed’ had been the most renowned bullfighter in the region, and was highly sought after by all the rodeo committees of remote central and western Queensland. At one time, his popularity had risen to such a height he’d become one of the main drawcards at various events. But since starting at Redstone, it seemed that Jeremy’s priorities had changed a little and he had only clowned at a handful of closer rodeos. Also, now that he’d been deprived of his driver’s licence, it appeared that many more rodeo-goers were set to suffer the disappointment of the absence of King Jed. Alice knew that her grandmother saw this as a positive development, and the older woman didn’t hesitate to tell Jeremy so. They were discussing the approaching local rodeo one afternoon smoko.

  ‘It’s about time you grew up and stopped taking part in that ridiculously dangerous caper,’ Olive stated.

  ‘I’m here for a good time, not a long time, Mrs Day,’ Jeremy retorted.

  ‘None of us are really here for a long time,’ Sam observed quietly to himself.

  Jeremy explained that he’d been booked up for this particular rodeo for many months and, as he put it, a man had to stick to his word. Alice also suspected he’d been secretly hankering after the adrenaline buzz and ego boost that he derived from his combat with the fiery beasts and the adoration of the rodeo crowds. So she offered to be his driver for the occasion. She’d given it some thought and decided that it was the least she could do for Jeremy, after all he’d done for her family and for Redstone.

  So one sunny winter Saturday, Alice found herself on the rodeo scene. She’d always felt out of place with this crowd: she didn’t possess the necessary look, walk or talk. She seated herself high up on a rail with a bunch of leggy sunburnt kids and listened to their running commentary with a half-smile on her face.

  The first two bulls, Black Jack and Executioner, came and went, their riders failing to cling on for the necessary eight seconds. The two rodeo clowns hovered around the sheltering barrel in the middle of the ring and attempted a few token tricks. But once rid of their riders, the bulls hung on the fence without much fight left in them. There were a few lethargic cheers, and a faint spattering of applause. A disgruntled murmur rippled through the crowd at the lack of action. Rodeo audiences could be ruthless. Luckily it was time for the two new clowns.

  The third bull, Red Weapon, put on a better show with his rider, a twelve-time champion. When the gate rope was pulled he exploded out of the chute, the cowbell clamouring wildly on the leather kicker under his belly. Red Weapon was a grotesque cross-bred scrubber; he must have been newly brought in from someone’s back country and saved from the meatworks for this special purpose. He had a corkscrewing motion, deadly to ride out. Sudden turns and spins added sting to his repertoire. The kicker flew off after the first few bucks but that didn’t pacify him. The rider lasted an admirable six seconds before he was flung off to the side, landing heavily and much too close to the whirling back end of the Weapon. The enraged bull swung around to attack.

  Enter King Jed. The crowd burst into applause at the sight of their favourite. He was dressed in a proper clown suit, excepting his footwear, which was spiked football boots to give him purchase on the sandy ground. He had an orange curly wig and thick face paint. In one hand was a ridiculous glittering walking cane, and tied to the wrist of the other were two neon yellow pompoms which his arm movements sent bouncing every which way.

  With a high-stepping run he approached the bull from the opposite side to the unseated hero and poked him hard in the ribs with the glittering cane. Instantly the bull snapped around to face this new attacker, but was blinded by the pair of huge fluffy pompoms. Snorting into them, he lowered his head and charged. He headed in a straight line away from the rider in the sand, and past Jed’s outstretched arm. The other rodeo clown rushed to guard the fallen rider.

  Jed cartwheeled then to another part of the ring, where he performed a quick somersault and righted himself, shaking the pompoms and whooping to attract the bull’s attention. The bull spun to face him again, gathering his muscles for another charge. Jed turned, dropped his braces, pulled his baggy pants down and bent over, flashing an outrageous pair of stripy bloomers and looking between his legs at the bull. The crowd showed their raucous appreciation. Meanwhile, two more men rushed to the fallen rider and dragged him away.

  Jed straightened up, hooked up his braces again and jogged on the spot while the bull ran at him. He waited until it looked as though the bull would surely knock him down; then, at the last possible moment, he dodged to the side, sending the bull careering into the rail. Alice gasped along with the rest of the crowd, before everyone applauded madly. Crazy now with the pain and confusion, the unfortunate animal swung around again and took a few moments to locate the clown.

  Jed was taking an exaggerated circular walk around his hand, which was leaning on the glitter cane planted in the sand. His other hand was on his hip, the pompoms bobbing erratically. The crowd roared with amusement and the bull bellowed and charged again. This time, Jeremy had lined himself up with the gate and was through it like a shot, the bull on his heels. Once through, he leapt the side rail and the bull disappeared from view into the adjoining yard. There was an explosion of applause and several cries of ‘King Jed!’

  Alice felt quite awed at the sight of Jeremy’s familiar form in this different persona. She was stunned by the easy talent and athletic grace that shone through the ridiculous capering act. She clapped as loudly as anyone.

  More bulls came and went, and Alice’s eyes, like those of everyone else, anxiously followed Jed. He became funnier and more reckless with each one, endlessly taunting and dodging. Alice had never seen a bullfighter with less regard for his own safety, or more willing to risk his neck simply for the pleasure of the crowd.

  At one point, her heart was in her mouth when a rider who had been bucked loose was still caught by his hand in the strap. His body flopped around dangerously, dangling to one side of the bull while his running feet tried to reach the ground. Jed dived into the whirlpool and somehow released the strap so that he and the rider were flung free. He rolled dramatically, over and over in the sand, seeing that the bull had moved to a safe distance to wait.

  At that, a hysterical Brandi initiated a screaming Mexican Wave. It was enthusiastically taken up, and travelled noisily around the ring of spectators. This spurred the bull into action again and he careered around the fence. Twice Jed narrowly dodged a charge, pausing only to blow an exaggerated kiss up at Alice with his horrible red mouth.

  The kids beside her, who had previously given no sign that they were even aware of her existence, now looked at her in sudden wonder and admiration. Feeling slightly dizzy, she clasped the rail tighter and tried to subdue the heady emotions she was experiencing. Surely it was just the buzzing atmosph
ere that was getting to her. And she was certain that it could only be pride that she was feeling for her workmate.

  The bulls were followed by the bronco riding. Exhausted from the suspense, and not overly keen on seeing the horses perform, Alice climbed down. She wandered a little distance away from the ring and crowds, towards a clump of trees at the edge of the rodeo grounds. She looked back curiously, viewing the scene from afar and musing over the strange activities of human beings.

  She hadn’t been there long when Brandi and three companions that Alice didn’t recognise appeared. Brandi, obviously tipsy, greeted Alice like a long-lost friend, throwing her arms around her and lurching with all her weight onto Alice’s slight frame. She righted herself and stepped back when she felt Alice’s resistance to the hug.

  ‘Frigid little thing, isn’t she? Murris aren’t usually so picky.’

  The three others giggled. Alice felt the familiar sinking sensation of her high school days. She prepared herself for what she knew was coming.

  ‘Don’t look so sour, Alice, we just came over to ask you to come and sit with us. You look like such a loner. I’ll even buy you a drink.’ Glancing at the others, who were laughing again and leaning all over each other, Brandi added, ‘Yes, I swear I will!’

  Alice smiled benignly. ‘Thanks, Brandi, but I’m perfectly happy here. I actually came to get away from the noise.’

  ‘Oh my God, would you listen to the girl?’ It was a meaningless comment but the gigglers were more than satisfied. ‘I even said I’d buy you a drink!’

  ‘I’m driving home after this and I’m not a big drinker, but thanks anyway,’ Alice answered politely.

  Brandi’s mouth fell open in mock horror. ‘An Abo who doesn’t drink? I never met one like that before.’ The girls were nearly wetting themselves now.

  ‘Maybe that has more to do with where you meet them, Brandi,’ Alice observed quietly.

 

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