•Brooklyn's Perspective•
'Oi! Do I not get a g'day?' The thick, hoarse voice of my brown haired brother carried down the beach. I looked up in shock, my toes gripped the sand and my feet carried me straight into his arms. I nearly knocked him off his feet as I flew into his chest.
'I missed you bub.' He muttered, tears brimming in his eyes, overwhelmed by love and the acknowledgement of him.
'You have no idea.' I replied.
'So, I was away too you know, do I get this welcoming?' The figure of my blonde haired brother and his son appeared beside us. I let go of Dover and was taken in Ace's arms.
'When did you two get home?' I asked, my ear pressed against the pounding heart that belonged to Ace.
'A few days ago, how long have you two been here?' Ace questioned, his Big hand latching onto George's little one.
'About 10 minutes.' Pat responded, Don began to squirm, his soft gurgles signaling his hunger.
'Why don't we go and meet Grandma and Grandpa?' I took Don from Pat and the six of us made our way into the quiet General store across the road.
'Mum? Dad?' I called out, as Pat closed the door.
'Brooklyn?' Mum's surprised face appeared from behind the counter. She ran around the front and took me in a gentle hug, her hand cupped Don's soft head.
'Mum this is Don Jarrah Carmondy.' I introduced, with tears in her eyes she drew the baby into her chest. She kissed his forehead and in his ear, she whispered;
'I can't wait to see where this wild world takes you.'
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•Pat's Perspective•
The Adelaide Test. My most favourite leg of the Ashes Series. Playing at my home Ground was special but being able to play with my brother made it even more important.
'Right Mum are you going to be ok?' I sat her down beside Brooklyn and Penny.
'Patrick I will be fine, please just go and bat.' She smiled and pushed me towards the change rooms.
'Good luck love.' Murph kissed me softly.
'Thanks Murph, seeya later Don.' I kissed his forehead before running inside to pad up.
'Righto you two, play strategically, let the overs fall, but find the gaps, wait for the bad ball, go back to basics.' Johnno and I stated blankly back at Bill Lawry. Bill sighed; 'Just go have fun.' He chuckled, guiding us out the door.
Johnno and I swung our arms around, loosening our shoulders. We sidestepped down the grass with our eyes to the sky preparing for our long spell of concentration.
'Remember those hundreds we said we'd make for Mum?' I told him, nudging his shoulder.
'Yeah.' Johnno turned his head to me.
'Let's make 'em.' I raised my eyebrows into a smile before skipping to the crease.
'Good morning Mr Carmondy, how are you?' Alan Knott, the English wicket keeper, greeted cheerily.
'I'm well Alan, and you?' I turned and shook his hand.
'Yes, certainly glad to be out playing this marvellous game.' He replied, stretching his driver as I marked my crease. He and I were professional procrastinators. We loved to waste time. It was an art, especially in test cricket. If you could waste time, hit, catch and bowl a ball then you were in. Well, there was a little more to it than that, but you know what I mean.
What a day it was out in the middle? The ball was sitting right where I needed it to, runs were being handed to Johnno and I on a silver plate. He made his 50 about two delivers before me, so the celebration was just a bat raise before I made mine, then it was a pat on the back.
'You boys are batting bloody well, what's happened to bring this on?' Alan asked, at the change of the 34th over.
'Mum's here, cancers got her so it might be her last game she watches mate, so we've got some hundreds to make.' I responded, patting my bat at my feet and watching the bowler. I pushed the ball through the covers and onto the boundary.
'Hold it.' Alan jumped up and ran down to the bowler. He pointed at me, then at Johnno as he explained something to the nodding bowler. He raced back down the pitch, and returned to his position.
'All good?' I questioned.
'Yes my friend, carry on.' He said, so I turned my head to the bowler.
Johnno and I were both on 99 and the crowd was ecstatic. I closed my eyes and felt the ball collide with the middle of my bat, I bolted down the other end, passing Johnno with a grin, bringing up my 100, but I didn't celebrate. I waited, for Johnno to hit that ball down for 1. We ran over our creases, removing our helmets and pumping our bats to the air in sync. We ran down the pitch and met in the middle, taking each other in a very tight embrace. It was slightly awkward because of our padding but we couldn't wipe the smiles off our faces as we pounded each other on the back.
'We made it, Pat we did it.' I exclaimed.
'We bloody did to!' I laughed, we turned to the stands and pointed our bats at our Mum who was on her feet, clapping and jumping up and down in absolute joy.
You can't describe the feeling of making a hundred runs. It's almost as if you've achieved the ultimate goal that you can continue to work on. Being able to hug my brother in the middle of our home Ground after the two of us had made our 100's was unbelievable. To know our wives and children were in the crowd, proud as punch, always made that hundred feeling even better, but it was Mum that really drove us to make the runs.
'I'm so immensely proud of you two!' Mum took us both in her arms, we hadn't even relieved ourselves of our helmets yet.
'Thanks Mum.' We said in unison. Tears trickled down her sickly yet beautiful face.
'I'm glad I got to spend today with a feeling like that, I love you boys.' She kisses both our checks with a smile as wide as the great divide.
Mum passed away that night. Peacefully, in her sleep. Perhaps she was dreaming of the beautiful day before hand, I like to think she was because it was then she was at her happiest.