by Pat Flynn
A final outburst of laughter.
“He lived here a long time, had his share of fights and made his share of enemies, but whenever he walked down the main street he’d say g’day to everyone, and everyone’d say g’day to him. If there’s a League team in heaven, Jack’ll be packing down between the two front-rowers right now. Have a good one, Jack. We’ll miss you.”
“Hear, hear!”
The celebrant took over. “Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. What has sprung forth is now returned. What has lived here on earth will now live in eternal peace.”
He nodded and someone pressed Play.
Oh there once was a swagman camped by a billabong,
Under the shade of a Coolabah tree;
And he sang as he looked at his old billy boiling,
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, my darling?
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda and leading a water-bag—
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”
A few blokes from the RSL held caps over their uniformed hearts. They didn’t all get along with Jack, but he had fought for his country in World War II and not many of those were left. “It was the world wars that made Australia,” they’d say over a beer, later. “Taught a generation of men mateship and showed the world who this country was.”
“Bloody rubbish,” Jack would have replied, because he’d done it hundreds of times before. “War taught me nothing more than how to drink, gamble, and swear. Not to mention kill. It’s you blokes who give war a good name. If there’s another, I’ll hide Ozzie out bush.”
A few older women held tissues to their noses. They remembered when Jack’s wife had left and never came back. It was the best piece of gossip they’d had in years. Later, when their own husbands started dropping like flies with heart attacks from too much cream, or drowning in flash floods trying to save livestock, or rolling their pickups driving home drunk, many had got to know Jack even better, at the old-time dances. Jack may not have been a smooth talker but he sure was a smooth dancer, and it wasn’t easy seeing another good man waltz off into the sky.
Johnno looked on from the back row. He’d changed. The six-pack-of-beer pot-belly had been replaced by a six-pack of muscle, the skinny shoulders now wide and strong. He’d kept up his end of the bargain.
Jess was next to him, her long hair falling down her back. Ozzie snuck a glance and thought she was more beautiful than ever. Not her face or her body, but everything about her. Everything Ozzie had missed.
The day Ozzie had arrived home he had taken her to Jack’s place. His place, now. They’d kissed but she didn’t search deep into his mouth, the way she always had.
“Can you stay tonight?” asked Ozzie.
She shook her head. Just a little but enough.
“Why not?”
“Mum’ll expect me home.”
“She’ll understand. Tell her we’ll sleep in different rooms.”
“She won’t believe me.”
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
She didn’t reply.
“Not … someone else?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks like fat raindrops. “I don’t want to talk about it till after the funeral.”
“I do.”
She turned away.
“Who is it?”
Nothing.
He grabbed a soft shoulder and spun her. “WHO?”
She didn’t look at him. “We didn’t mean for it to happen. But you don’t need anyone. You’re so strong and …”
When Ozzie heard that, it was like a blow to the gut.
“And I thought you were gonna stay in America and …”
“Who?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, pleading, though he wasn’t really sure he wanted to know.
“He got his act together and he needs me. Wazza knows this bloke in Townsville who can get him a tryout with the Cowboys. I can go to James Cook uni and study early childhood and …”
“No,” said Ozzie.
Jess was sobbing.
“Why? Of all the blokes, why’d you have to pick …” Ozzie stopped talking and focused on his breathing, like he did in footy when he corked a thigh or whacked his head. In and out. In and out. He wasn’t going to cry over a girl.
“We didn’t mean for it to happen,” she said.
“Just go.”
“Will you be all right?”
“Go.”
As the casket dropped with a faint click, hate rose up inside Ozzie like bile. When the music stopped, Johnno approached. He didn’t look into Ozzie’s eyes and he didn’t touch his ex-best friend. But he did say, “I’m sorry, mate. Real sorry. About everything.”
Ozzie’s hands turned into fists. He wanted to deck him, but he couldn’t do it here. Not until he’d counted to ten.
“I love her,” Johnno said.
“So did I.” Ozzie looked at Jess but she didn’t say anything, so he walked into the hot sun, jumped in Jack’s truck, and left.
chapter 38
Walking across the soft turf Ozzie passed the cheerleaders practicing for the upcoming season. Not bad, he thought, as he watched them shake to music piped through stadium speakers. A girl saw him looking and smiled, so Ozzie smiled back. Yeah, they were good, but not as good as Unity and the girls, who really knew how to get people cheering.
A secretary showed Ozzie in and told him to wait. It had been a tough decision coming here. After the funeral Coach McCulloch had rung Mrs. Allan and left a message for Ozzie to call back, collect. When Ozzie did, Coach tried hard to convince him to go to Peters University. “I’m the new head coach,” he said, “and I want the very first scholarship player I sign to be you. Just imagine the excitement of Hope and then double it. That’s what it’ll be like. You and me, son, let’s ride this dream as far as it takes us.”
Before Ozzie could reply, the coach put someone else on the phone. “Austin? It’s me, Angela.”
As if he didn’t know.
“Listen, it’s all been arranged. I’m going to Peters!” she said. “You’ve got to come, Austin, you just … gotta! We’ll have so much fun together!”
He didn’t know what to say, so he said the first thing that came into his head. “Why’d you tell ’em?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why’d you tell ’em about the money? From footy?”
“Austin, what are you talking about? I didn’t tell anyone anything.”
The line suddenly cut out, thanks to Ozzie’s finger pressing the button.
Then there was Justice University. Ozzie had found the scholarship papers in his pocket and read through the promotional material. Last year’s team had played a game on national television that had been watched by 20 million people. There was also a picture of the weight room, though Johnno proved you didn’t need millions of bucks worth of equipment to put on muscle, just someone who believed in you. Still, it was a great opportunity, and Unity would be there.
His other option was to stay in Yuranigh, play for the local team, and be a farmer. Pop hadn’t got around to selling up, and living the simple life didn’t seem like such a bad idea to Ozzie, although the simple life wasn’t nearly as simple as it was cracked up to be. Ozzie had seen enough droughts, floods, and heartache to know that. Wazza had helped him find a good head stockman—a bloke who just happened to be a handy league player as well. Soon, Ozzie might be joining him on the farm and in the team. But then again …
A man came out, shook hands, and took him into an office. “Hope you don’t mind, but I like to ask a few questions, try and find out what makes you boys tick.”
Ozzie didn’t know whether to nod or shake his head. Those “hope you don’t minds” were confusing.
“I don’t know too much about you, but enough to realize that you’ve had a tough time of it lately. Life isn’t always fair. I’m sorry about that.”
Ozzie gave a
quick nod.
“So, talking about life, who’s been the biggest influence on yours?”
No small talk from this bloke, thought Ozzie. “Pop.”
“What’d he teach you?”
“Umm.” Ozzie looked up at the wall. There was a photo of a mountain, rising into blue sky. “Never fake a penalty. Be loyal to your mates. Don’t punch someone till you count to ten.”
The coach smiled. “Sounds like a wise fellow. And tell me about America. What’s one thing you like about it?”
“They don’t make you feel bad if you’re good at somethin’.”
“And something you don’t like?”
Ozzie looked at the other wall. A photo of the ocean. Tight drops of rain were falling but the sun was out, illuminating the mist and blue of the sea. “Nothing’s what it seems.”
“What about Australia, then?”
“It’s a lot like America. Lot more than I thought. I had a mate I wanted to come to Brisbane with me but he’s gone to the Cowboys and taken my girlfriend.”
“That’s too bad.” The coach leaned forward. “But remember something. What you take from America and what you leave behind is up to you. Your generation is the future of this country. You make it what you want it to be.”
Ozzie listened.
“We’ve been real impressed with you, particularly in the trial games. Unlike a lot of young fellas, you’re a team player. That’s what we like the most.”
“Thanks.”
“And I’m going to give you a chance to join us, but only if you think you can do two things, okay?”
Ozzie’s heart started racing but he tried to keep his voice steady. “Okay.”
The coach looked into Ozzie’s eyes. “One is that you be a contributor. In my life I see two types of people: contributors and blamers, and the best people are those that put in, day in, day out, to their team, their own lives, and their community. Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And the only way you can contribute is if you’re honest, so that’s the second thing. I’d like you to be honest with everyone, but that’s up to you, I guess. But I demand that you’re honest with me. I don’t care how good you are at footy, you tell me a lie and you’re out. You tell me the truth, no matter how bad it is, and you’ve got nothing to worry about. Understand?”
Ozzie smiled because for once, he did.
The coach shook Ozzie’s hand. “Welcome to the Brisbane Broncos.”
Dear Austin,
Howdy! I was so sad to hear you’re not coming back but feel lucky for the chance to have met you. I’d really like for us to write and stay friends, and maybe one day you might visit, or I might even go “down under” and see you. You never know, I might just show up at your door, soon!
Let me start by giving you all the Hope gossip. For some reason there was this big crackdown on cheating after you left. Jose did an American Ethics subject and some kid stole the test and passed it around.
Someone found out and all the students who used the stolen test got put on academic probation, which means that Jose can’t go to college next year! He’s going to work, save up money, and then apply, so hopefully he’ll get there in the end. But it’s so stupid, seeing he’s one of the smartest people in our school and all.
Talking about college, Malivai has decided not to go. Can you believe that? Since he hurt his knee he’s been acting real strange, and then he told me that he finally figured out why God made him lose his scholarship. It’s so he can sing. He’s trying out for the next American Idol and he thinks God will make him win! You know how good he is at singing so he’s got a chance, but I told him to go to college and go on Idol, but he won’t listen.
Angela has also been acting kinda weird. After you left she started dating her ex-boyfriend from Denham and they’re both going to Peters next year. She’s been bragging about how she got a cheerleading scholarship, even though tryouts aren’t held until April. God knows how she managed that. I’m sorry if any of this upsets you, but I thought you’d want to know. I knew she still held a torch for the Denham boy—he’s a real good football player, got a scholarship and everything.
Sam’s going to Justice so it looks like we’ll be together awhile longer. He says hi and hopes you change your mind so you two can play together again. He says he’d like to teach you how to really throw a football, but I tell him you already can!
Hope is still the same. No one’s forgotten you, and if you come back I bet they’d throw some sort of parade. Us seniors are looking forward to leaving for college, but the juniors are excited about next year’s football team. Do you know that Coach Hayes has agreed to help out the team again? He’s going to mentor the new coach. Everyone’s real thrilled about it.
Hope you’re enjoying Australia and getting everything you want out of life. We sure are missing you here.
Love and kisses (don’t tell Sam!)
Unity
xxx
PS The Grahams send their love.
chapter 39
In a hotel room in Sydney the phone rang. Ozzie picked it up warily. He’d already been pranked by one of the senior members of the team, who’d pretended to be from The Footy Show.
“Ozzie, that you?”
“G’day, Mr. Conroy.” Ozzie felt pretty confident this call was legit. You’d have to be a professional impersonator to imitate the old man’s gravelly voice.
“Listen, I just wanted to wish you best of luck for tomorrow,” said Cyril.
“Thanks.”
“How’re you feeling?”
“A few butterflies.”
Cyril chuckled. “I still remember my first game. Not much money and no TV back then, but I was so nervous I couldn’t sleep a wink. In the middle of the night my roommate gave me a few glasses of whiskey to calm me down, and then they couldn’t bloody wake me up in the morning! Played the first half with a splitting headache.”
Ozzie laughed. He missed hearing stories like that.
“Listen, Ozzie, I’m in Yuranigh for the junior carnival. There’s a few people here who want to say hello.”
Mrs. Allan was first. “Now, Austin, make sure your socks are pulled up tomorrow, and comb your hair, too. There’ll be a lot of people watching. You can at least look the part.”
Ozzie smiled. “Yes, Mrs. Allan.”
“And all the ladies at Rotary said to say hello, and we’ve posted some Anzac cookies to your apartment in Brisbane. They should be there when you get back.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Allan.”
Next was Wazza. “How are you, champ?”
“Good.”
“Ready to knock ’em dead?”
“I’ll give it a go.”
“I’m sure you will. I just want to say that your pop would’ve been proud of you. No, I take that back. He is proud of you. I’m sure he’ll be looking down tomorrow yelling, ‘For God’s sake, son, pass it!’”
Ozzie laughed.
“We’re all looking forward to the game. Now, no pressure or anything, but the boys from the club have roped me into a deal. If you score a try, I have to put on free beers for the rest of the game. So if you do score, make it the second half, okay?”
Ozzie laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
And finally it was back to Cyril. “Listen, when you get out there everything will seem like it’s in fast motion. First grade footy, it’s a bit like life in the big city. Try and get involved early, get a touch, make a tackle, anything. After that you’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Mr. Conroy. It means a lot.”
“You’re a special talent, Ozzie. I knew it the first day I saw you. Didn’t always want to believe it, but deep down I knew how good you were.”
After the call Ozzie watched television, hoping to take his mind off the game, hoping to settle his stomach. An American drama was on, one of those shows where someone dies at the start of every episode and someone is caught and thrown in prison for life at the end. Ozzie didn’t watch much television but liked to escape
every now and then, especially when he was playing with and against some of his Rugby League heroes in less than a day.
There was a scream and the camera zoomed in for a close-up of a dead body—a young woman, blood trickling out of her ear.
Suddenly Ozzie sat up straight. “I know that girl!” he said to his hotel roommate, another country boy—from Cherbourg—making it big in the city.
“Who? The dead one?” said the roommate.
“Yeah.”
“Where from?”
Ozzie searched his mind but couldn’t place her. “I’m not sure. But I know I know her.”
“Yeah, and I know Britney Spears,” said the roommate.
An ad came on. “What time are we flying out after the game?” asked the roommate.
And suddenly Ozzie smiled, because he knew exactly who the dead girl was.
She was the girl from the plane.
chapter 40
It was a short walk from the dressing room, but long enough for a lot of things to race through Ozzie’s mind. He saw flashes of Friday nights in Texas, walking beside Sam, Malivai, Jose, and Tex, hearing the cheers of Unity, Angela, and a whole town. He also had a vision of jogging out for the Yuranigh Magpies and giving Johnno a look and a smile, happy that a best mate was there to share the struggle.
A man stopped them and they waited in the semi-darkness of the tunnel. Ozzie remembered the darkness of his grandfather’s death, and of losing a girlfriend and a best mate, as well. He recalled the battle with the demons of the night that followed, a battle that he still hadn’t won. For a while he had blamed a lot of people, but Ozzie had eventually realized that unless he forgave he’d never sleep peacefully again. He’d started with himself. If he hadn’t been so stupid he’d never have lost Jess, but being stupid was part of growing up, he supposed. And as for Johnno, that thieving bugger, at least he’d apologized. Without that, Ozzie might not be where he was today.
The security guard nodded and Ozzie ran through a large banner. The turf was emerald green and the sunlight dazzling. Ozzie could hear his pop’s voice echoing through his head, “C’mon, you gutless wonder. Put in!”