Red Dirt Heart 04 - Red Dirt Heart 4 Read Online Free Page B

years.
    “I take it there was partyin’ to be had in the city?” George said.
    “Well, Charlie partied,” I said. “I supervised.”
    George chuckled. “The dinner meeting went okay?”
    “The unconscious man beside me,” I said, picking up Charlie’s hand and letting it fall heavily back to my leg, “had to give a speech.”
    “Really?” George asked with a laugh.
    “More stuff than I’ve ever heard him talk about.” I added, “Business stuff, I mean. Figures, percentages, taxes, that kind of thing. It was a bit different than what he talks about at the Beef Farmers meetings. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me, though.”
    “He knows what he’s doing.”
    “He does.”
    “How did he handle the city?”
    It was kind of weird question. “He was fine. Spent more time loungin’ by the pool and eating fancy food than anything else…” Shit. I looked at George and could feel a stab of panic at my stupid mouth. “Don’t tell Ma or Nara I said that. He loves their cooking more than any of that fancy crap.”
    Well, I reckon George laughed for five minutes straight. “’S’alright, son, I won’t tell her. I wouldn’t be game anyways.” He chuckled some more.
    Something about his question got the better of me. “Why did you ask how he handled the city?”
    George shrugged, but looked at me and smiled. “Just always wondered, that’s all. He hasn’t left the station much, except when yous went to Uluru and Kakadu. But that’s still kinda close, I guess. I’m talkin’ about far off places and cities. When he was in Sydney at school, he only came home three times, at the end of each year. And he spent the first half an hour at the homestead with his boots off and his feet in the dirt. Like he was grounding himself or something. Dunno why. Never asked,” he said with another shrug. “It’ll be interesting to see if he does it this time.”
    We were quiet for a while as I thought about what George said. The red, red scenery flew past the windows and got more familiar the farther we drove down the Plenty Highway toward Sutton Station. There were six-foot-high termite mounds along the side of the road, red dirt and green patches of thickets, and the odd gum tree. It was broad and barren. And it was beautiful.
    I don’t think I’d ever get bored of looking at it.
    I’m not sure I’d ever take my boots off and dig my toes into the dirt to ‘reconnect’ with it like Charlie apparently did, but I loved it nonetheless.
    The rumble of the old ute and the heat of the cabin made me feel every hour I’d missed sleeping. My blinks were getting longer, and I remember thinking if I could just rest my head against Charlie’s shoulder for a minute, I’d be fine.
    The next thing I knew, the loud clang of George closin’ his door woke me up. There were dogs barking and when I sat up slowly, pushing against the kink in my neck, I saw Ma on the veranda smiling at me. Well, at us. At me and Charlie sleeping all over each other.
    I gave Charlie a nudge and he eventually roused. He sat up straight and groaned, but pushed the passenger door open and slid out of the truck. He pulled his bag from the back like it weighed a tonne.
    “You okay, hun?” Ma called out.
    “Travis tried to kill me,” he said.
    “Don’t blame me,” I said, collecting my bag.
    “I do blame you,” he moped. It was pitiful.
    I laughed at him and told Ma, “Self-inflicted wounds. His weapon of choice was bourbon. Then shots of Sambuca, I think it was called. All different colours.”
    Charlie made that meep sound again and looked like he was about to hurl at the mention of it.
    Ma clucked her tongue at him, but smiled. “Well, it’s good to have you boys home anyway.”
    We took our stuff inside, and two hours’ sleep on the way home just wasn’t enough. Without even so much as a hello to Nugget, Charlie lay down on the bed, so I did too. I crashed out again for a little while, and when I woke up, Charlie was gone.
    I could