Memories of Life

3. Growing

Robert sat waiting in the cab of Pops' truck, old and dusty with dried mud on the floor left behind by his work-boots. The boy poked at the yellow foam which bulged through the cracks in the driver's seat, before running his fingers over the smooth dials of the radio and up to a crack on the windscreen, wondering how it was made?

The mesmerising qualities of the materials, was quickly broken by the harsh screeching of the trucks door. Pop pulled himself into the drivers' seat with a groan, accompanied by a hiss from the foam squashing beneath him, followed by Michael. Robert smiled at his brother who returned it with a weak one of his own with distant eye's, that were still sad.

"Everything look good back there Michael?" Pop asked cheerfully, referring to their belongings tied down on the trucks flat bed. Michael gave a short nod of acknowledgment, accompanied by another pained smile. Pops lips pursed grabbing the steering wheel, seeing his grandson's despondency. "I know this is tough mate. But us blokes have got to pull together now. And before you know it, you'll be a man. Able to make decisions for yourself."

Michael nodded again. "I know." He said forlornly, looking out the window.

Pop let out a short sigh knowing he had not reached Michael, feeling he could have done better by him. "Then we better get going." He said turning the key in the ignition, and ruffling the excited Robert on his head before pulling away from their home.

It had been two weeks since the funeral, with Grandpa Lucius and Grandma Beth having departed only two days earlier. Their father had sat Robert and Michael down with them at the kitchen table the night before they left, informing them he would be moving to the farm with Pop. Robert had been excited at the news, but tried to contain it knowing Michael would not feel the same way. Though Roberts heart sank when his father went on to say if Michael wanted; his grandparents had offered to take him to Melbourne. Michaels face had remained expressionless at the offer, as his grandparents looked on in desperation waiting for his reply.

"You're a young man now Michael, able to make your own decisions...." But before his father could finish, Michael had made up his mind.

"I'll go to the farm." He calmly replied staring angrily at his father, before getting up and leaving the table.

Normally his father would have demanded his return, but was too surprised to react. Instead a long silence fell over the table, broken only by the tears of Grandma Beth.

It took well over an hour to drive to Pops farm with the trip being done in total silence, apart from the drone of the trucks diesel engine. As they turned into the drive Robert sat forward on the edge of his seat seeing the familiar flat, sparse, country, covered in green long grass from the recent spring storms. In the distance, a range curved along the horizon in a haze of blue from the bush blanketing it. "So much to explore." He thought.

"Will we have to walk to the gate to catch the school bus?" Michael groaned, knowing it was at least a kilometre from the house to the road.

Pop chuckled. "No mate, I've got the old ute going. I'll teach you how to drive it so you can take you and your brother to catch it."

Michael smiled, his eyes lightening a little with the idea.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

In those first months on the farm Pop spent every moment with his grandsons, attempting to settle them in when their father returned to work.

Despite visiting on every possible occasion, there was still so much Robert didn't know, or hadn't tried. Pop taught them how to handle and ride horses, or one of the many motorbikes. And on days off school he would take them camping in the range, or along the river that ran through the property. Michael was still not as enthusiastic as Robert, but he did enjoy driving the ute, while tolerating the other activities for his brother's sake, and to avoid his father.