Memories of Life

6. Leaving Home.

6. Leaving Home.

It was mid February, and the corrugated tin roof covering the back patio still gave an occasional ping from the heat of the afternoon sun. Small particles of dust danced through the air revealed by beams of light passing through the shadows of the old ghost gum that sat between the house and machinery shed. The hot westerly wind which had blown all day was now barely strong enough to support them, as they descended back to the earth.

Robert sat enjoying a cool drink under the patio on the old cane lounge, which was faded and unravelling from years of servitude. Pop was busy placing sausages and steak onto the barbecue making it hiss, and spit to life. His father exited the screen door on cue, drawn by the smell and sound of cooking meat, holding three beers. The sight bemused Robert, because alcohol was almost never kept in the house. Rarely had he seen his father drink it, and his Pop would only have one or two at the pub after the sales, which he affirmed was in honour of the cattle sold for slaughter. Robert had never been sure if this was true or not, given his grandfathers dry humour.

Noticing his father stiffen with an awkwardness on joining them, his face and voice confirmed the discomfort. "I thought we three might share a beer." His father paused momentarily looking at Robert, undecided if he should go on or just leave it at that, then said. "We don't celebrate too often, but I think today is as good as any." His fathers tone was now more recognisable addressing the pair like they were in a board room meeting, before passing them each a beer. "So to you Robert. Congratulations on your acceptance to university, and your new life ahead. You've worked hard and it's well deserved."

"Too right." Pop added, raising his beer.

Robert who was now nearly nineteen had never drunk beer, with most of the kids at school starting when they were eighteen or even younger. They would often talk about going out to pubs on weekends, or to parties to have fun and alleviate the boredom of a country town. This had never appealed to Robert however, wether it be because of his mother or brother he never considered. He still enjoyed the time he had to himself, and working with Pop. Regardless Robert took a swig on the beer appreciating the fraternity of the moment, however clumsy, and nearly choked when it bubbled and fizzed into his sinuses with its cold bitter taste.

"Well I hope this new life doesn't involve too much drinking of beer?" Pop chuckled.

Robert managed an embarrassed smile, before composing himself and taking a smaller sip in an attempt to wash away the tickle in his throat, while in the distance a car could be heard approaching along the dirt drive leading to the house.

"That would be Michael." His father said in a voice now resuming its more natural state of authority.

It had been nearly two years since they had all been together at Pops seventy-fifth birthday. Any potential feelings of tension or discomfort between Michael and his father had been ameliorated by the large gathering of people, allowing them to avoid each other. The only time they were in each others company, was when Aunt Jenny insisted they be together for a photo.

Michaels' white Landcruiser pulled up under the ghost gum, which now covered the yard in shade as the sun descended, and he disembarked. It was the most well kept Robert had seen him in some time. Sporting a black short sleeved t-shirt, accompanied by a clean pair of blue denim jeans and black T-boots, that were old and faded with an attempt being made to polish them. Michaels' face was also clean shaven; something he rarely did, and his thick black hair was washed and tied smartly back in a short ponytail. Reaching back into the vehicles cab he removed a six pack of beer, along with a small rectangular object wrapped in shiny blue paper.

Robert had not seen his brother in some months since finishing school. Most of his time had been spent with Pop doing jobs on the farm that needed two men before his departure for university. Standing to greet him Robert felt a sense of anxiety building in his gut. Pop who was still turning meat on the barbeque saved him from making the awkward first greeting.