Old Growth by John Kinsella

Author:John Kinsella
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925760231
Publisher: Transit Lounge

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They lay on a rug reading by portable fluorescent light, midgies getting stuck into the glow, the odd mosquito annoying them – he immersed in Marvell, she in Bel-Ami. The odd comment or word would almost slip from their lips, and they rubbed each other’s legs with feet, and occasionally paused to listen together, simpatico to the cicadas whirring and clicking at the end of their other-worldly journey, and the odd shit! when a mosquito bite from earlier suddenly raised its itchy, angry head. He said, self-consciously, enigmatically, almost flippantly, Cicadas and night and tents and bloody awesome displays of stars just for us are never a cliché. And he knew it was a mistake and read into her expression in the weak light, That shows how young he is. His mum was in his ear, louder than any cicada, and with human teeth, Cradle-snatcher! It piqued. He suddenly admitted to himself that it really piqued.

It was getting late and there wasn’t much power left in the light, so they moved inside the tent and stretched out, but the header kept going on and on and they couldn’t settle. He said, It’s getting pretty moist, but I guess Uncle wants to get that paddock done. I will have to come up next week to help him finish off. I feel guilty as it is. He knew he shouldn’t have said it, but he did. She didn’t react.

The chewing of the header was closer to them now and occasionally its spotlights lit the rim of the clearing, bringing a pink to the eucalyptus leaves. Bloodshotting the stubble. It’s a little unsettling, she said. Don’t worry, it’s just Uncle, he said as mantra. He might be a bit pissed that I’m not helping him, but he knows this is important to me. He paused. Still no reaction. Then Julia hoicked herself up on her elbow, placed her hand on his crotch, and rubbed slowly. He wanted to push her off with a laugh, but he aroused easily, and went with it. Gift horses. Then she stopped and said, abruptly, Sorry about this, but believe it or not … I’ve got to pee again. Bad timing, eh. This was the third time since they’d arrived. I’ve got my special spot, she joked. It was that bottle of riesling, darling. Warm riesling makes me want to go! I’ll take the torch, she said, Don’t worry. I hope your spot isn’t too hard to reach, he said, snatching at her crotch. Pushing his hand away, giggling, she said, It’s just over the crest, down on the edge of the paddock. That’s a long way away, Julia – cripes, just go around the back of the tent. No sheep around to see or hear you going, and I’m in here. No, I don’t want you to hear my piss hitting the ground – that splashing into dirt sound. You’re weird, he joked, half pushing her out through the flywire as she unzipped it.

And then she was gone into the milky darkness and he was trying to picture where precisely she actually meant.

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