Chapter Thirteen
Joe turned onto the dirt road and felt the air begin flapping the peak of his cap. He was eager to meet Ned and drink in the afternoon light. His big v-eight rumbled behind the firewall and he followed a long procession of vehicles ahead of him on the track, appearing and disappearing in the dust.
He rested his elbow on the doorframe and glanced out at the timber, feeling pretty good. The setting sun was kissing the ridgeline and the forecast was for rain. He saw the gates of the showground ahead and slowly pulled up beside the other cars, hearing music beyond the trees.
Ned Col was waiting across the paddock beside his Harley Davidson. He seemed deep in thought and reached up to his blank-face, patting his whiskers down. Joe waited in the car, staring at him. Something just seemed different about him.
‘Hey,’ Joe said, strolling up.
‘What do ya know?’ Ned murmured. He clipped his carabiner of keys to his jeans.
‘How have you been?’
Ned pouted. ‘Oh, all right,’ he said, and the men began to walk.
‘So do you want to hear the news?’ Joe said. He moved his baseball cap to the back of his head. ‘Jay’s father turned up at work.’
Ned glanced at him. ‘Chr—t, he’s persistent.’
‘Yeah. Worrying, isn’t it.’
Ned pulled a bag of tobacco from his pocket and began rolling as he walked. He cupped his hands over his mouth and lit up. The smell of the smoke reminded Joe of the nightclub and he thought about the girl.
They joined the queue of blankets and iceboxes heading for the gate. Joe watched the line move sluggishly ahead in the afternoon heat, dust puffing from their feet like kicked flour. The men cleared the gate and headed through the trees and into the valley, and Joe saw the wide river heavy with recent storm water. Two flatbed trailers had been joining to form a stage and a cowboy with a guitar was playing to a small crowd seated on the grass. His voice echoed in the valley as the broad-brimmed hats nodded to the beat.
The guitarist struck a final chord. ‘Thank you,’ he said, his fingers dancing across the strings.
Joe could smell the cooked onion of the kiosks and even hear the hotplates sizzling up on the hill. Always keen to eat, Ned moved off without a word and went ahead, and Joe followed him up the rutted track. He already had the feeling there would be a lot of aimless wandering tonight – it was sometimes like that with Ned. He just never settled and tonight, for some reason, it seemed he had it bad. He had also barely said a word and it just wasn’t him. Joe watched his fat gait clambering wearily up the slope in front of him and started wondering what he had done – he’d done something; he knew him.
As forecast, a summer storm was slowly rolling in over the ridge and thunder suddenly echoed in the valley. It was loud and Joe felt it through the ground. He began thinking about Jay and how they had played things so long ago. It was true that in the end he was down, a little confused, but it surprised him that his father was now seeking answers. Joe wasn’t sure he was going to get them.
It slowly began to rain and the men joined a queue of hats and caps at the kiosk. Mud was forming on everyone’s boots and no one seemed to care. But the weather and all the other thoughts were destroying Joe’s mood. He had wanted an easy time talking with Ned and just didn’t like the atmosphere. The sky darkened and the rain got heavier and began coursing over the peak of his cap. The vendor leaned out of the window and Joe reached for his wallet.
‘Two burgers and two Bundy cokes, mate,’ he said.
Ned fired a glare at him. ‘Put ya wallet away,’ he drawled. He stared coldly and Joe waited with his hand in his wallet. He analysed the stress in Ned’s tone and searched his eyes. Ned turned and Joe slowly pushed his wallet back into his pocket, staring at the back of his head.
‘It’s mine,’ Ned murmured, as if reading his thoughts.
Joe held his stare, watching the water trickling down Ned’s pony tail. Ned opened his wallet and removed his last bank note – a blue ten – and paid and took the items from the sill.
‘Here ya go,’ he said. He handed a burger and drink to Joe.
‘Don’t try to work it out,’ Joe thought to himself, ‘because you won’t.’
The men strolled to the edge of the knoll overlooking the crowd. There was the glow of a late-season cane fire in the distance. Joe sipped his drink as the rain started splashing into his rum. He listened to Ned’s bolus sloshing around.
‘Thanks for the drink, mate,’ Joe said. ‘But I’ll get the rest for the night. No discussion.’
Ned said nothing and slowly walked away. He stumbled down the muddy slope and Joe watched him go.
A new performer appeared on stage and everyone suddenly cheered. It was a big crowd now, perhaps two thousand. The long-reaching beam of a searchlight panned across the throng’s many faces, making them as white as paper. People were rowdy and hungry for fun and those hit by the searchlight began throwing beer cans up into the air. Suddenly, a young woman on the edge of the crowd caught Joe’s attention. She was dressed in a denim skirt and knee-high boots, laughing with her friend, really enjoying herself. She reached out and stole a cowboy hat from a passer-by and laughed as she ran away. The owner, a brother or friend, smiled and moved on without it. The music was high-spirited and the woman donned the oversized hat, smiled like a big kid and began spinning around. She was really excited like no one else existed, and it made Joe smile. Every man wanted that – a partner with a special quality that gripped you. If you had that it’s easy to think you would forever be satisfied. But he wasn’t sure – he had gotten close before and was still lonely. Nonetheless, at this moment, he fantasized about a future with that girl.
A few bonfires had been lit and were burning high in the rain. Ned had stopped further down the slope, staring at the crowd. I’ve no idea what’s going on in his head, Joe thought, and he doesn't know what’s happening in mine.
Ned glanced at him. ‘Hey.’
Joe hesitated. ‘You alright?’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Joe stared as long as he dared then looked away. With his beard, the tail and those crooked teeth, Ned just looked evil.
Another figure came on stage as torrents of water broke through the tarpaulins. The man reached out for the microphone.
‘Is the rain bothering you?’ he shouted.
‘Noooo!’ yelled the crowd, and it echoed in the valley.
‘You sure?’
‘Yeeessss!’
‘OK! Now, we can’t have country music all night!’
‘Ohhhhhh!’
Five shirtless men began walking on stage, the rain glistening on their bare chests. One strapped on an electric guitar and strummed three familiar notes and the crowd roared. It was an ACDC track and everyone knew it. The drumming started and the crowd began to clap. People began waving fists and there was lots of slipping over.
‘Let’s get into it!’ Ned said. ‘Let’s go down!’ He stumbled down the slope and Joe slowly followed. The two reached the throng and Ned pushed on through. No one dared challenge him and soon they reached the speakers on the flatbed trailers. But Joe wasn’t sharing his joy; he had broken the bad news to Sue and now felt a bit wrong inside. He had sensed an unease before now but this was just a little worse.
In his sleep, he regularly saw a dream of being stuck in a revolving door, unable to get out. He thought about the girl at the club and how quickly he had left her room. He now felt the pull of the one with the big hat. He looked up at the stage and gazed at the strumming guitarist. Every man had his own story and most times you just kept things to yourself. He dreamed of one day giving up the boozing and womanizing and finding ‘The One’. He looked out at the crowd, seeking the new girl’s smile, and perhaps an end to his pursuit. Suddenly, she appeared, dancing alone. She was available. He smiled and then she disappeared, just out of reach.
It was raining beer cans and the music was loud. Ned removed his shirt and slipped off his boots. Joe stared at the
snake around his neck. Ned threw his plastic cup at someone and began spinning around like a ballerina. It was the oddest thing Joe had ever seen him do. He collided with the crowd, fell into the mud and dancing feet began splashing him with dirty water. He rolled onto his back and started to laugh like a madman. Joe sculled his drink, watching him.
Confused by the strife and dazed by the rum, Joe rested down into the mud. He leaned back against a wheel of the flatbed trailer and let the rain begin striking his face. Once again, his eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Her one more time. But she was just like all romantic fantasies – a flash in the pan. He would never see her again and would forget her by morning. He needed time to think and laid on his side and slowly closed his eyes. He remembered Jay again and his father who wanted to know more.
The rain stopped striking his face early the following morning. He felt his crushed baseball cap under his head and slowly opened his eyes. His eyes blinked a few times then he started to look around. Cigarette packets, potato chip buckets and thousands of crushed beer cans lay across the mud. A magpie called from a distant tree and he could smell the smoke of the extinguished fires. He winced and dried mud cracked on his face, then he noted a dozen motionless bodies lying around. It was like an artillery shell had struck a crowd. One or two walking wounded were heading away in the distance towards their tents.
Ned Col lay in the mud not far away. He was still, with his mouth open at the sky, and his hands were contorted inwards like he was impersonating a cripple. He was completely naked with his clothes in a puddle beside him and Joe could only guess at what things were tormenting his soul.
Were they anything like his?
‘Hell,’ he thought, ‘you just don’t know.’