I'm gonna keep posting until I run out of what I have written so far... I need more comments to let me know how I'm going!
Part 5: Carl
The rest of the car trip was spent in silence. Dad occasionally looked at the two of us in the rear mirror, he seemed to want to make sure Tim was comfortable. Eventually, everybody arose out of just staring out of the window to taking in the increasingly familiar bushland and roads until, after more than ten hours of driving we drove up the hill, that once we reached the top of we could see Carl’s house. “We’re here,” Dad said. Everybody undid their seatbelts and Rex jumped around crazily as the car rolled down the bumpy slope towards the back of Carls house – a small white structure with two large rain-water tanks on either side of the front steps. The roof was old and made of tin, all the windows yellowing with age, which I didn’t know was even possible. Out front only a mud-covered white Ute was parked, which meant Carl was still at work with his van – Carl was a plumber.
Without a word, Tim stepped out of the car and headed up towards the house from the drive. Rex frantically climbed over me to jump out of the car and he raced down the hill into the bush – no doubt he had the scent of a rabbit or a kangaroo. Tim hip-and-shouldered the front door to open it; it wasn’t even fitted with locks. Tim threw his sports bag inside and quickly ran back out towards the outhouse. Dad started the car and stuck his head out the window. “Seeya later Tim!” He shouted, over the growling of the engine.
“Yep…” Tim shouted in reply as he dashed into the toilet.
Once we had parked the car and unpacked the boat in the clearing, it took me a whole 20 minutes of messing around with my tent until dad just came over and did it for me. Robert and him had already set up their swags so that the three of us made a triangle around a blackened fire pit in the centre.
Immediately I climbed in and unpacked my stuff – old paint covered shirts, hiking boots, beanie, cargo pants and shorts. That kind of stuff. Under my mattress, I hid a packet of chocolate, the three condoms from the gas station restroom and my stash of bubble-gum. Three things I didn’t want anyone else to get to. I lied down on my ‘bed’ – an inflatable mattress and sleeping bag – and was about to pull out my iPod when I heard talking outside. I stuck my head out of the tent flaps. Carl had pulled up in his van next to the boat; Dad and Robert were standing at the driver’s window talking to him, laughing.
Knowing it would be rude not to come out and say hello, I walked over to the van and gave a casual wave when Carl stuck his head out the window and said, “Hey there Lewie!”. I came to stand on the other side of the van, looking directly through the open front windows at my family on the other side.
“So how’s life treatin’ ya?” Carl stuck his hand out across the seat and I stuck mine through the window to shake it in return.
“Not too bad.”
“That’s the way.”
I paused.
“And you?” I asked.
“Ohh yeah, not to bad I guess.” Carl nodded in thought, then turned back to look at my father and brother.
“I’ll see you three up at the house then, eh?”
“Meet you up there in three quarters of an hour or so…” Dad said, taking his head out of the window to look at the slowly fading sun. “What’s for dinner?” Dad stuck his head back into the van.
“Couple of bloody six packs sounds alright to me!” Carl laughed madly. Three things I hate about Carl right there… his laugh, his tendency of sounding overly Australian and the way he thought nobody knew he was an alcoholic.
My father laughed, pulled his head out of the van and knocked on the white roof of the vehicle with his knuckles and Carl took off through the field towards his house.
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