Spinner by Ron Elliott Read Free Book Online Page A

couldn’t tell if he was lying or not until he winked. ‘What if everyone just took any horse or bicycle they fancied and took it wherever they had to go?’
    â€˜That would be stealing.’
    â€˜Aye. But what if everyone did it, so’s there were horses everywhere, cos someone else took them there too. If everyone just picked up a bicycle or horse wherever they found it and went wherever they wanted to go, and they left it there. Plenty enough then to go around. And the next fellow to come along could take it too.’
    David thought on that a little. ‘But then it would be no one’s to look after.’
    â€˜Or everyone’s. In a place called Russia, they’re doing that. Letting everyone own everything. Sharing it all out, so everyone is as free as bird, instead of getting weighted down with all their things.’
    David nodded and thought some more. Finally he said, ‘I guess that’s what heaven’s like too.’
    â€˜Maybe,’ said his uncle in a way that David suspected meant the opposite. Leastways, his uncle had no more to say and David was thankful to ride in quiet.
    They were in town early, but there were a few carts and some flat-bed trucks waiting on account of the train, which would deliver newspapers and some fresh goods, and take away some items for fixing down in Northam or over in Geraldton.
    David tried to look for Nell in the blacksmith’s when he put the horse in, but she wasn’t around. His Uncle Michael made him hurry, saying they were late, but they had to wait a good half-hour in a corner of the station. David wanted to wait out front so he could tell someone he was going.
    â€˜You ever been to Northam?’ his uncle asked.
    David shook his head. ‘I went to Geraldton once with the school and saw the ocean.’
    â€˜Pretty big eh?’
    â€˜Oh, I reckon Geraldton’s not too big. Lot of shops.’
    â€˜I was thinking of the ocean,’ said his uncle with one of his smiles that was laughing at you.
    David didn’t smile back.
    â€˜Did you like the smell of that seaweed?’
    â€˜No sir.’
    â€˜Pretty pongy stuff that.’
    â€˜Too right.’ David laughed.
    And his uncle started laughing too. He put his head back, and he opened his mouth and his lungs and he laughed loudly for all he was worth. He laughed so much, there were little tears coming out of his eyes.
    It made David stop laughing as it didn’t feel right.
    When the train came, David put his bag next to him on the seat.
    His uncle said, ‘Righteo, old bean. See you on the other side then, what?’ in an English accent. Then he left him alone.
    David couldn’t decide about what had just happened to him or what it meant. It seemed too big to be grasped. He supposed it was because he was just too dimwitted to be able to understand. He began to wonder if he was a black sheep too, like his uncle. He wondered if he was the black sheep of Dungarin.
    He thought about his grandfather and how he’d allowed him to go with his uncle so easily. He started to consider whether he was a black sheep, not just in the town, but back on the farm with his grandfather too. He did not know how or in what ways his grandfather had feelings for him because he had never said. But he realised now he had counted on it. He assumed it was there under his feet even if no special time was taken to point that out. David thought about this and was suddenly unsure if it was true.
    Then David stopped thinking and just looked. He mostly looked at the country he didn’t recognise going past the train. It was not yet harvest time but most paddocks had poor crops. A willy-willy sprang up and danced down a hill kicking up the dust before disappearing suddenly midair. There were dead trees on each hill, and white fallen ones too that made you squint at their brightness. Swagmen and rouseabouts and itinerants watched or waved from roads and bridges looking