Spinner by Ron Elliott Read Free Book Online Page B

hot and tired and not much good for the work they begged. A mob of Abos looked up from a river and were gone. There were rocks that were sometimes piled and sometimes scattered. The rocks got bigger and more interesting as the train moved into the hills.
    There were more trees too, bigger gums and others that David didn’t know. Soon the trees got so thick you couldn’t see the farms any more.
    Some ladies sat in the carriage, dressed up and knittingas they talked in murmurs that David couldn’t make out over the noise of the train. A man in a suit read a book the whole way, his hat sitting on the seat next to him. David guessed they must travel on trains so much that they didn’t care what was outside, nor about the coal smoke and grease smells coming into the carriage.
    David got up and went back to another carriage. He stood in the doorway where he could see his uncle playing cards with two rouseabouts and a man in a suit. There was money piled on the fold-down table between them. David watched his uncle drink from a hipflask and offer it round. He told jokes and laughed. David noticed his eyes lose their laughter each time he looked at his cards. It was like a blink of seriousness before turning his smiles back on, like an electric light. He laid down his cards and scooped some pennies, making more jokes. Then he looked at David, and he winked, before going back to shuffling the cards and talking and talking. He talked all the time while he laughed and played the cards. There was just that blink every now and then when he didn’t.
    David went back to his seat to watch the rocks, the wandering jobless and the big trees as they neared Toodyay. He wished they weren’t going to Perth.
    In the end they didn’t.
    They got off in Northam and Uncle Mike carried his bag up to one of the Northam hotels. They went in the main door and down a passage. The bar was noisy with harsh laughter and men’s voices as they passed and went up some stairs. His uncle took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door to a room.
    Inside was a lumpy double bed, with an old quilt and abig chipped wardrobe. ‘Home sweet home,’ said his uncle as he opened the wardrobe doors to put David’s Gladstone in. There were clothes hung up and some cricket bats lying on the bottom.
    â€˜There’s a farm show here, David. It’s like the Royal Show in Perth, with rides and animals and vegetables. There’s a show at the side. What the Americans call a sideshow which is full of games of skill and chance, where a man with a bit of blather and a good trick can make some money.’
    David didn’t say anything. He sat on the bed and smelled the coldness of the room.
    His uncle went on, ‘So, I’ll go get us some food, and tomorrow we’ll go to the Northam Regional Show, and show you off.’
    Before David could ask what he meant his uncle yelled, ‘Think quick. Live grenade.’ A cricket ball was coming towards him and he just caught it before it hit his chest. ‘Much better,’ smiled his uncle before leaving the room.
    David looked down at the ball. It was new and all leather.
    David went to the double doors that led out onto the veranda to look through the curtains. There was a man further along, leaning over the rail and looking at the street. David could hear a motorbike coughing up the road. It went past and away. Things got quiet again.
    David put the cricket ball up to his nose and smelled its newness. He went over to the wardrobe and looked in, seeing that there were five cricket bats and some more, older cricket balls. He cupped the new cricket ball in his hands, squeezing gently to feel its firmness. He tossed it from hand to hand, spinning it in gentle arcs. Then he lay down on the bed, rested the ball under his chin, and thought about nothing.
    It was late, and the sun’s light was already at the veranda doors. Uncle Mike was asleep next to him on the bed. With