Chapter One: The Boys

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Hugh threw his bag over his shoulder, one of those canvas bags with a long strap. His water bottle, his football boots, his filthy guernsey and shorts and his wet socks were all zipped up and locked away ready to throw in the laundry when he made it back home.

"Hugh! You've got first round when we make it to Adelaide by the way." Dylan bellowed, forcing his boot over his foot.

"But it's my birthday? Why should I pay first round? In fact, why should I pay at all?" Hugh testified.

"Because we're all broke mate, the drought is affecting all of us." Dylan slapped his shoulder.

Hugh chuckled, he wasn't wrong.

"Dylan are we taking your car?" Patrick peered into the change rooms, his hair wet from the shower.

"No, we're taking yours. Mines out of petrol." Dylan sipped at his can of beer.

"What? Dylan that wasn't the plan?!"

"I know, forgot to fill up before I left home. Dad said not to use the pump anyway, haven't got enough money to fill up the farm tank," Dylan ducked outside, "Oi Pat! Put your shit in Hugh's car and we'll hit the road yeah?!"

"Yeah!" Pat's voice echoed through the room.

"You fellas off to Adelaide?" Ben soldiered through the room, he was always full of purpose.

"Yes, it's my birthday, wasn't stayin' home," Hugh gnawed on his chewie.

"Hope ya told Mum, cause I'm not. Better go to church in the morning. She'll skin ya alive when she finds out you didn't." Ben tucked his wet towel into his own bag.

"Ben give it a rest. Don't make assumptions or accusations. Mum knows I'm heading to town, I'll be back Sunday night." Hugh threw his can into the recycling bins and glared at his older brother.

"I'll see you when I get home okay? We're shearing this week - plus Dad has a truck load of black Angus' you and I are drivin' to market on Tuesday night. Don't forget." Hugh explained.

"I know, Dad told me. I'm doing your canteen shift tonight so you owe me. Drive safely okay?" Ben ordered.

"I will. Look after Mum and the girls and can you feed Maggie too please? Thanks for doing the shift, you right to take the ute home?" Hugh nodded his head at his brother who nods softly back.

"Anything else?" Ben raised an eyebrow, questioning his loyalty to his younger brother.

"No, I don't think so. Thanks Ben."

His brother nodded again, and returned to his mates. Hugh dashed out of the door.

It was June in the mid north of South Australia, and freezing. He'd played footy all afternoon and it blew a gale the whole time. He marched to the car, his boots crunching in the gravel.

"Wish it'd just bloody rain," Hugh said, clambering into Patrick's ute, "they're just teasing us those grey clouds."

"It's also freezing, it feels weird for it to be so cold and there be no rain." Dylan continued.

"You know it's bad when your Mum has a timer in the bathroom to time showers and uses the water from washing clothes to water the garden." Pat stated, pushing the clutch in and turning on the ute.

"Yep, I'm hearing ya. Mabel and Violet have two minutes to wash their hair, according to Dad. The debates we've had at our kitchen table, far out!" Hugh shook his head, rolling his eyes for emphasis.

"I don't know what's going to happen if it doesn't rain soon. Dad reckons we won't be able to keep the cattle on, have to sell them too." Dylan seemed defeated.

He wasn't wrong.
Cattle are thirsty and when there's nothing to drink it's cruel to leave them in the vast paddock without feed, water or any quality of life.

"Cheer up mate. Let's not think about anything other than the sweet nectar that is beer tonight. Otherwise we'll be morbid." Pat ordered.

"And the girls won't want that will they Pat?" Hugh turned his gaze to him.

Pat sensed his sarcasm, "obviously not!" He winked making the three of them laugh.

"If we did meet someone, can we bring them back to the hotel? Or is that a shocker of a move?" Dylan leant forward in his seat, grabbing onto the edge of the front seats with his hands.

Hugh and Pat let out a heavy breath, in thought more than anything else.
"Don't want to ruin anyones chances so I guess it'd be okay." Pat shrugged.

"Only problem is boys we're all in the same room. 3 single beds." Hugh explained.

"So back to hers it is?" Dylan questioned.

"I think that would be the better option yes," Hugh nodded, "I don't really want to hear what you blokes do in the dead of the night."

The three of them chuckle.

"Not really your thing is it Hughie?" Pat teased.

"No, and it shouldn't be yours either. You've sat through the sermons too." Hugh retaliated, in a firm but kind manner.

"He's right Pat." Dylan agreed.

Hugh smiled. He loved these two, no one quite understood him like Dylan and Pat. They'd been mates since kinder and had been the terrors of primary school. High school they were inseparable and everyone envied their friendship.

As they grew, long days at school turned into long truck drives to the markets, or days spent shearing, fencing or pruning. When harvest came around they used to chat over the UHF till all hours of the morning, because the only day they ever saw each other was a Saturday at cricket.

Life was good.
Apart from the lack of rain.
Life was really bloody good.

"So, I think we skip the clubs and go to the pubs and bars. A bit less rowdy you know?" Pat said, opening a packet of salt and vinegar chips, he crunched down on a handful.

"Sounds good to me! Would rather a juke box over doof doof music any day!" Dylan stated.

Hugh chuckled; "me too! Glad we've all got a good taste in music."

"What are you talking about? Have you heard the shit that you listen to on the tractor Dylan?" Pat squawked.

"You know that the Kenny Rogers tape is stuck in the radio Pat!"

"Yeah but there's only so many times you can listen to Islands in the Stream without loosing your mind." Pat returned, his eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

"That and Lucille." Hugh chimed.

The three of them laughed.

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