Jaffa
By the time I got home Tut had the barbecue lit and was attempting to stop it spreading from an adjacent sapling to the neighbour's new fence. He didn't seem overly concerned. From the little I knew of the boy from Kyabram, I didn't think he would become overly concerned if the house went up. In fact, if he himself caught on fire, I think then, and only then, would his concern level rise ever so slightly. Tut was a very relaxed individual, if nothing else.
'Might be a while before this hotplate cools down Doddo. Can ya grab us a can?'
'There's a hotplate in there?' I asked, squeaking like a teenager at an N-Sync gig.
'You'll see it soon. There's a few cans of Grolsch in the freezer. Help yourself.' And I did.
I took a seat on the couch, leaving Smokey the Bear to teach the neighborhood kids the dos and don'ts of beer consumption, petroleum and matches.
Sharon our resident Teddy Bear retailer and Mel the nurse where watching something forgettable on tv.
'Are you coming with us tomorrow Doddo?' Sharon asked.
'Count me in. I'm unsure of the exact plan though. The Kid mentioned something to me this morning but I'm afraid the world was a very dark, wretched place back then.' I replied shaking my head woefully.
'No real plan. We generally tend to pile our gear into Jaffa and decide on a destination when we're on the road. We're talking Wales.'
'Bitchin!'
Jaffa was the Hannen Road family car. A nineteen seventies something, Ford Escort wagon. The name Jaffa at a guess, came from the fact it was orange on the outside and just plain shit on the inside. The starter motor was shot, necessitating the need to park on hills, the carburetor stuck, whatever the hell that meant, the windscreen leaked and well, basically, it was orange. It was transport though, the house's ticket to freedom (with hills), a vehicle for our travel dreams (to a limit). It had done a lot of Europe with Tut and The Kid in its time and gotten them back in one piece, albeit, slightly wet and with accentuated calf muscles. I'd watched a dog take a piss on its back tyre, but I was yet to experience the thrills of hitting sixty in under twenty five seconds in an orange family wagon. But make no mistake, it was a prospect that excited me greatly.
