The Bunyip, the Beast and the Outlaw

The chimney in the paddock

The folk who built St Martins Correctional School later swore that it was just a lucky coincidence that the Southern Rail line fed directly from the poorer suburbs of Sydney directly to the doorstep of their imposing brick mansion in Goulburn. Yes, there had recently been massive financial incentives announced for any private institutions that were prepared to take on the most troubled youths in Sydney and reform them. No, the board members of St Martins had insisted, they weren't interested in the money. Honestly. Seriously, they weren't...

For the eighteenth time that hour Louise risked a glance across the train aisle to check on how her little brother was coping. Mostly, she felt sorry for him, but she also couldn't deny the pervading sense of grim relief that she also felt at knowing that Benji was finally seeing some sort of repercussions for his actions. Maybe this St Martins place would actually help him...

Too wild for Minto high, too wild for the entirety of south-west Sydney really. And yet, at the same time, the judge had ruled he was not quite at the threshold for a juvenile correction centre either. Perhaps that decision had been influenced by an awareness of his awkward age; fourteen. Too old for most childhood intervention programs, too young to be put in an adult correctional environment... St Martins was the last option.

Louise closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The musty smell of the train reminded her of the courthouse, which reminded her of the way the judge had looked down at her - noted that it was just her, not their parents, who stood stubbornly beside Benji. Oh their parents existed, in the technical sense. Just not in the practical.

For the occasion, Lu had found a navy blue blazer at the salvos around the corner from home, but had had no such luck with finding a similarly professional pair of pants, so she'd had to settle for jeans. Benji hadn't bothered to change from his dirty white, oversized hoodie, and had rolled his eyes when she'd suggested that he consider trimming his mullet. He'd spent the entire sentencing with his acne-ridden face set in an expression that conveyed no contrition, only seemed determined to show everyone, most of all the judge, how inconvenient he found the whole affair to be, annoyed that it had required him to be separated from his precious phone for so many hours.

It wasn't even his phone, Lu amended the memory. It was someone else's phone.

How had it come to this?

Benji had always been a high spirited kid, a bit of a larrakin. He liked to be the centre of attention and enjoyed setting up a good story with no hesitation of making himself the butt of the joke. He liked to make everyone laugh and had been confident enough in himself to be okay with the laughter being at his expense. He'd been popular, students and teachers had both liked him. Lu had adored him. He'd even been the captain of his under 10's soccer team. Despite the lack of attention from their mum and dad, Benji seemed like he was going to be okay.

Then he'd started year 7 and something darker, more anguished had begun to creep into the cocky laugh. The risk taking had started, and then grown worse. He'd stopped playing sport, and starting playing other kinds of games, ones with far more dangerous consequences. It wasn't the terrible choices in friends that worried Lu so much as the fact that Benji knew they were bad people, and still chose to spend time with them anyway. She remembered clearly the day that Trevor Skinner had come around, a skinny, gallow-faced boy with greasy brown hair and eyes that started scanning the walls and objects of their house the moment he crossed the doorstep.

"He seems a bit...off" she'd said to Benji after the uncomfortable boy had finally left.

"Yeah, I know" Benji had shrugged, but had still maintained the friendship for years. Trevor Skinner was bad news, and had been the instigator of many of the ideas that had landed Benji in his current predicament. In fact, if the judge had known the full extent of what they'd been up to she certainly would have not been anywhere near as lenient as she had been. As it was, Benji had been sentenced to 12 months at St Martins, a correctional school for boys located in Goulburn that had an unobstructed view of the adult supermax prison. No doubt to remind the boys daily of what awaited them if they truly didn't straighten themselves out.
Lu had been frightened when she heard the name of the place. She knew where Goulburn was, of course. She'd even been there once when her school had taken them all on the obligatory excursion to see Parliament house in Canberra. The maccas there was practically a national institution. Everyone she knew had stopped there on to break up the 3 hour drive from Sydney to the nation's Capital. But an average McDonald's and a giant statue of a ram were the only things she knew about the place. That and the fact it was nearly 2 hours away from their home. She'd expected him to be sent somewhere closer. Maybe Emu Plains, or even, ideally, to the correction facility in Campbelltown itself! Then she could have visited him most weekends. Then at least, Kaitlyn would have probably come to visit, and maybe their relationship would have had a better chance. As it was, Lu could see Benji texting with ferocity and determination and assumed it was with his girlfriend. Had he told he? Was he saying goodbye? How was she taking it? Both he and Louise knew he'd have to hand his phone in once he got to Goulburn and would probably only have limited, supervised access to it for the next 12 months. Privately Louise didn't know how he would cope with that. For both Louise and Benji their phones were more than communication devices. They were substitute parents, providing access to advice and guidance on how to navigate life. Benji in particular seemed almost surgically attached to his. The amputation would occur within the hour.