Together, all the guys helped to pack up the campsite, leaving it the same way they had found it. Mason was starting to feel much better. Brownie retrieved the goat hide from the bull-ant nest and grabbed the horns for Mason. He threw the hide over the surfboards and roped it down to dry out further in the sun as they drove.
“Brownie, why don’t you strap the horns to the front of the roof racks? That’ll turn a few heads on the way to Bells.”
“Okay, Mason. Anything you say; you’re the walking wounded.”
They were on the road again. As they left the red dirt track and turned back onto the bitumen, Red said, “When we go back through town, stop at the doctor’s surgery.”
“What for?” asked Bear. “Have the stitches come out?”
“No, I told Kat we’d pick her up on the way through. If she’s coming, she’ll be outside the surgery waiting at seven-thirty.”
“We’d better pick up the pace after that then, or we won’t make it to Bells,” said George.
“Oh, George, you’re a worrywart,” replied Red. “We’ll get there and we’ll win! We’ll take the prize money and be cashed up; you wait and see.”
“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
When they pulled up at the surgery, Kat was there waiting. Bear opened the side door, and she stepped in.
Kat leant down as she entered the Kombi. She was a tall, slim girl, with an athletic figure. As she moved over to Red, she planted a big kiss on his lips and sat to enjoy the journey with all the guys.
Bear slammed the door closed and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
As the morning sun warmed the inside of the van, so, too, was the roadway warmed. It became a shimmering heat haze rising from the bitumen. From a distance, the faded red Kombi, covered in bulldust, would have resembled a speeding gold bullet, cutting a path through a desolate stretch of highway, with no end in sight.
“How about pulling over?” Cassa asked. “I’m cramped and hot. Let me out of this tin can. I’m getting claustrophobic. I need to stretch my legs.”
LP stopped near a large signpost that read:
‘Posidimen Mining
Do Not Enter’.
“Where do you think that gate leads?” Cassa asked.
“It leads you to millionaires,” Red replied. “Anyone who bought shares in that company when they were penny-halfpenny shares is now a millionaire.”
“Bullshit,” Bear said. “It’s all on paper. When the mining boom ends, those blokes will be owing money.”
Looking into the distance, they could see heavy machinery hauling coal out of a deep, open-cut mine.
“What do they do with the hole when they finish mining?” George asked Bear.
“One of two things. Either they take out their big sucking pumps and allow it to fill with water to become a large billabong in this desert landscape,, or it will be filled with city garbage.”
“I think I would prefer to see the former,” George replied.
“Me too.”
“Cassa, are you right now? Are you over your panic attack? Have you got circulation back in your legs? We’re wasting time. Let’s go.” LP started the Kombi and drove off.
The guys settled in for a long drive to the surf competition at Bells Beach, hoping they hadn’t come all that way for nothing.
The hours passed with Brownie doing his weight exercises – any chance to build muscle for the body-building contest back in Brisbane. Cassa was constantly brushing his hair and always looking at himself in his compact mirror for any new zits to pop. Red thumbed through the latest IT magazine, keen to pick up any new ideas. Bear pulled down the guns and cleaned them, making sure they were in working order. Mason sat in the front seat as the pain was starting to come back from the snakebite.
“Bear, can you roll a joint?” Mason asked. “I’m hurting here.”
Bear rolled one, lighted it, took a deep breath, and passed it around. LP was driving, and was not impressed as the van started to fill up with smoke.
“Don’t wind down the windows,” Cassa said.
“It’s getting harder for me to see,” replied LP.
LP wound down his window, grabbed the front door with both hands, and stuck his head out the window.
“You steer, Mason; I can’t see a thing.”
Heading towards them was a huge cattle train semi-trailer.
“Okay, Mason, straight now; a little to the left,” said LP.
The truckie couldn’t believe his eyes. The vehicle coming towards him looked like it was on fire, full of smoke, and the driver’s head and hands were outside the driver’s door.
The truckie looked down at his bag full of pills, and decided it was time to give up the uppers. As the two vehicles passed in the outback, the trucker decided, I’m over this shit. He hurled his bag of drugs out the window.
LP pulled his head back from the kombi window and was back in control, with both hands steering a course to Bells. He yelled, “Mason, wind your window down to let the smoke out. Someone reach over and open the side door.”
A moment later Red called out “But it still smells like something burning.” He looked back to see more smoke at the back of the Kombi.
“We’re on fire; pull over!” Bear yelled.
LP pulled over to the side of the road, jumped out, and ran to the back hatch. He lifted the latch open, and yes, Bear was right! One of the batteries had caught on fire. The metal bracket holding it in place had touched against the terminal, and the battery casing was literally melting down. Now flames were spreading over the fuel tank.
“Quick, everyone, grab a handful of dirt and throw it on the batteries,” said Bear.
Cassa, Red and George jumped out of the side door, grabbed some dirt, and started throwing it over the batteries. By this time, the second battery was also on fire, and its casing was melting down. Seconds later, the fire was out. Everyone was thankful that the Kombi hadn’t exploded while they were driving; otherwise, they could all have been incinerated in a fireball.
Luck was on their side for now, but how long would it last? The batteries still needed to work. LP jumped into the driver’s seat and clicked her over. To their surprise, the Kombi started.
“Red, can you make sure that the brackets are holding down the batteries securely this time?”
“Okay, no worries.”
He clamped them down, and was about to close the hatch when he called out, “Hey, guys, check this out. There’s a bag in here on the opposite side of the batteries!”
“George, it’s your van; do you know what it is?”
“It’s probably just the jack and wheel brace. Don’t worry about it; let’s get on the go.”
Red grabbed the bag, opened it, and found it full of muddy looking coins, a bit like old pennies. For a moment, he thought that he’d hit the jackpot. He rubbed the mud from one of the coins, and saw it read ‘South Africa’.
“They’re just foreign coins. So much for a lucky break!”
“Throw them in the back,” George said. “We should get a few dollars out of them. We could sell them at a flea market as old coins, or make them into medallions. Mason, that’s your job. When we stop next, there’s a can of silver spray paint rolling around in the back of the Kombi. Clean them up, paint them, and we’ll make some money from ‘em.”
“Brownie, what are you doing?” asked Bear.
“What does it look like? I’m having a shave.”
“Can you do that somewhere else? We don’t want to see you lathering up and shaving your legs. Go around beside the Kombi, not in front of us.”
Brownie heeded Bear’s advice, and walked out of sight. A few minutes later, he came back and asked, “Who wants to wax my back? I’ve got to be hairless for the body-building contest next week.”
“You’re on your own with that one, Brownie.”
Kat said, “I’ll do it; where’s the wax and cloth strips?”
Brownie handed the cloths and the jar to Kat. He took off his tank top.
“How long did it take to get muscles like that?”
“Twelve months of solid workout at my gym. Do you think I’ve got what it takes to win a muscle building contest?”
“It all looks good to me. Now turn around and lean up against the Kombi. This is going to hurt. Are you going to cry like a baby or grin and bear it?”
“Funny. Ha-ha! Just do it.”
A few minutes later, there were some grunts and groans of pain as Kat ripped strips of hair off Brownie’s back.
Bear said, “I hope you’re not having a Brazilian over there. Just keep your boxer shorts on. Otherwise, we’re leaving you behind.”
“Kat, would you rub suntan oil onto my back? It’ll reduce the redness,” Brownie said.
Kat gently rubbed the oil over Brownie’s now hairless, smooth back, using slow, circular strokes. Red noticed what was happening, and started to get jealous. He walked over to them.
“You’ve oiled him up enough; how about my back and shoulders now?”
Kat turned, smiled, and said, “Don’t get jealous, Red. I’m with you.”
They walked back to the Kombi to declare their love for each other.
LP climbed onto the Kombi roof rack to check out the goat hide.
“Hey, check this out; the mixture of red dirt and sun has changed the goat hide’s colour and texture. It’s soft and golden. Feels good, too. Brownie, you were right about getting that salt from the salt pan near the Bora Ring.”
“I told you, all you had to do was rub the salt and suntan oil into its hide and leave it in the sun and job done,” Brownie replied.
“I’ll throw it over the seat; it might help my piles. This long-distance driving is getting to be a pain in the ass. There’s no time to wait; let’s get on the move.”
