The Lonely Bushranger

- Chapter 4 -

"We asked a kindly fishmonger, but he said no, that you had died years back down a gold mine. We were sad, but that is why we thought your letters stopped arriving." continued Charles.
"That goody goody fishmonger, I never really like him!" mumbled the bushranger. There was a silence for a few minutes, then.
"Why are you here?" asked the mother, a puzzled look on her face.
"Errrrmmm..... you know how I was a miner?" said the bushranger.
"What do you mean you were?" asked Charles.
"Well I wasn't very successful," admitted the bushranger. "Anyway, I decided to stop mining because of how unsuccessful I was. I looked around for jobs for a bit but I kept getting declined, apparently I was "too smelly and poor". After that, well...it all went a down hill, someone had stolen my tent so I had nowhere to sleep and of course I wasn't earning any money so I couldn't afford food. A few weeks later I saw a wanted sign for a bushranger and I had a good idea; become a bushranger!" he finished. There was another long pause.
"So you mean there is a bushranger standing in our house?!" asked the mother, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

"Well...yes," the bushranger answered, slightly worried.
"Oh!" the mother replied. By that point the bushranger was almost shaking with nerves. "You must be hungry then! All that stealing food is not good for your energy levels!"
The bushranger let out a breath he didn't know he was holding."Do you have any food I can eat?" he asked.
The mother nodded. "Charles love, can you go and get food for George please! You can have the last of the mushroom stew if you want!" George smiles for the first time in years. He hadn't heard his real name in ages.

***

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! There was a knock at the front door.
"Come in!" called the mother from the living room.
"Hello mother! Guess what I found today!" said George as he entered the living room beaming. He held two small gold nuggets in the air.
"Wow! We can use those to mend the couches!" exclaimed the mother.
"Oh and Charles will be coming home from the backery early today, the manager let him," added George.
This made his mothers face light up. "I can cook my special mushroom stew!" She walked up to George with her walking stick in hand and hugged him, and he hugged back. It had been a while since they had the mushroom stew, the last time had meant a lot to George. It was all those months ago, he was sitting on the green couch staring out into the pouring rain with his family sitting around him."

The grandpa had finished. He stared around at all the little kids lying on the floor, slow snores escaping their tiny mouths. As he thought to himself I am glad I chose this story, mother would be so proud he picked up his bowl and felt the familiar taste of mushroom stew on his lips.