Brad opened the back of the truck. "Shiit".

Twenty three tonnes of soda ash where stacked half way to the roof. He climbed up and Nick started passing him the stuff, a double bed his sister had given him, a stereo his brother had given him, a bag of clothes and two bags of CDs. It was like and oven back there, sweat dripping off Brad on to the muscly plastic bags as he crammed the stuff between the palettes. Nick sat in the truck and lit his second to last cigarette while Brad scrawled in his logbook, then eased the truck out of the yard. They rumbled past the sheds and dust towards the main road, forlorn cattle watched them from a spindly paddock as they waited for a break in the traffic. The road lifted and the suburbs yawned into view, roof spattered tree tops splashing against the hills. "So how's that cousin of mine?" It was an enguiry he embossed with a casual authority. Nick did'nt know Brad that well, they'd only met once before at the family christmas. He was a good bloke, Nick thought. They played cricket and barbequed steaks. "If you ever want to head over that way give us a ring" he'd said. So sitting here now it seemed like a good thing to say, a reminder that he wasn't a stranger, that he was now entwined with his blood. "She's o.k" Brad replied. He'd been calling him cuzz anyway when he arrived at the depot, and he liked that about Brad, that he was family now. Brad saw him looking at his diminished cigarette supply. "Smoke mine cuzz, we're not stopping". "C'mon yu' Fuck!" The cabin shuddered as Brad worked down through the gears. Cars snaked past them and dissappeared into the tunnel. "She's overheating, sorry about this mate". And with that Brad turned the heater on to let off some of engines latent fever. Hot breath direct from the strained guts of the engine pouring onto their laps. Brad kept an eye on the temperature guage, sweat dripping down his face. He turned the radio down to listen to the engine. "Once we get over this hill we should be right". Nick liked the way Brad included him in this effort - 'we'. It was'nt so bad, Nick thought, the hot wind. His mouth locked on her's, sucking her spit, the slight egg yolky smell of a recent cold. Her mouth pulled away and she grazed his lips, light, soft, cushions on a volcano. The engine groaned and swore, Brad swore back . "Nearly there, if she stays round a hundred we won't have to pull over, she's not done this before, must be overloaded". Nick wondered if his stuff had made the difference, if his stuff and him where the straw that broke the deisel's back. "Don't feel guilty", Brad said, "your lot's lucky to be a hundred kilo's, makes fuck all difference". The engine's effort had pasted Nick's shirt to his body, he felt wet inside his jeans . A wall of corrogated rock rose above them as they pulled closer to the tunnel, her breast was rubbery with sweat, her nipple was in his mouth. Brad had packed an eski with water and Danishes, iced coffee and chocolate. He liked that about Brad, that he'd think to do that."Help yourself cuzz". Nick had a long drink of water. Water trickled onto the cabin floor from the airconditioner, he took his shoes off and put his feet up on the dash, he could do that now because they where on the freeway and Brad did'nt have to check the side mirror so much. He could see her feet on the dashboard. Dancers feet with red nails, the road streaming between them. He put his hand between her legs. Brad got out a box of tapes, "whatcha wanna listen to cuzz?" He turned her over and started eating her arse like mango's, he ate her arse and felt the swell of her muscles under his thumbs. "Triple J hottest one hundred or Creedance Clearwater Revival?" They were in her bedroom now, she was leaning against the curtain. "Triple J it is!" A hill of dead grass slowly climbed across the window, some sheep dissappeared above the roof

as his tongue travelled up her leg and entered her. Sleep haruanged his eyes like flies. The buffeted sway lulling it closer. It would'nt be right though, he was supposed to keep Brad company. They could barely hear eachother over the music and the engine. One would yell something and the other would yell sorry? and then the other would yell it again. More than a few times he laughed at funny things Brad said having no idea what they where. "What do they use soda ash for?" Nick yelled. "Sorry?" "I said what do they use soda ash for?" "Fuck knows". He slumped against the window looking in the side mirror. It was a wide load trailor and the back wheels blurred close to the line. Fifty five feet and fourty eight tonnes going a hundred and twenty kilometres an hour and he felt as tired and cosy as if he was in a little cabin in the snow. An erection tingled as her arse again floated before him, her flamenco tuned body the one constant as the land opened and closed, as silos passed and colors changed. "Have a late night cuzz?" "Yeah, yeah I did. I caught up with someone". "Oh yeah", Brad said, "Go out for tea didya?" He liked that Brad said things like that. *** Daylight hung distantly behind the thick indigo curtains. Kate could feel his speckles dried tight on her skin. She lit a cigarette, elated and exhausted in the swan fight aftermath. She changed pillows and resettled her head in the smell of his hair. She could hear her son rummaging, a calculated clunk and clack in the kitchen, tribal drums to bring her forth. It was only a matter of time, it would be soon, just a bit longer though, jus...."Mum, Mum I'm hungry". His cock was inside her. She twisted her back to push him deeper, her fingernails ready to burst on his skin. "Mum, Mum". She looked back at her son from the leafy nothing of next doors garden, cereal clag in the corner of his mouth and he marshalled her gaze to the TV. Bean bags where on sale, they'd only talked about bean bags yesterday. Stepping from the shower Kate wiped the mist from the mirror and looked for marks on her skin. She smiled when she saw the mottled smudge on her arm where he'd clamped her. Feathers touched her in the warm escaping vapour. In her bedroom she picked up her dress. She could smell his come on it. The debree of sex lay around the futon mattress, been awhile since her room had looked like this, the fallen christmas decorations of tissues and torn condom wrappers, the crumpled sheet streaked milky. The smell of sweltered rubber and skin lingering in the small dark room. She drew open the curtains and the front yard was waiting, the big pine tree sullen in the heat. She was pleased to see her surrounds again, the everyday of before now seemed to smile at her like a friend who admires the costume of your travels. It was quite a big yard really when she looked at it, she had'nt really noticed before, she liked that she had a big front yard. The full light had killed the tinsely appeal the blue foil condom wrappers had managed when she walked in, now it just looked like rubbish to be cleaned up, which she did, and now her room looked more or less like it did before. As pleasing as this was it also pushed the the previous night further away than she would have liked. Her son was waiting in the car, he wanted to go bean bag shopping and he wanted to go yesterday. Kate picked up her cigarettes and put them in her bag, walking to the car she idly rubbed the bruise in her arm like a lucky stone. Looking for a park a beast stirred deliciously inside. "Your cock's curved, like a tick". She heard him groan when she slid her mouth over it, her name in breathy incantation. She kissed him,

feeding him back the salty tin warmth of his cum. "There mum, that guy's leaving". Deep river kisses, kisses to swim in, kisses to bathe the days, months, years away. There was a big sign in the shop window for the sale they'd seen on t.v. Tobias ran ahead through the sliding doors. She slowed and breathed deeply through her nose. His arse in her hand's, her nails traced up his back and bit into his shoulder, the cologne on his neck bitter on her tongue. Bean bags. Fuck that. He could just be sitting there and she could have a cigarette with him. Sitting right there outside the store. Give Tobias some kind of kid's credit card and he could get a taxi back. They could drive back to her place now, she could make him take his pants off slow and lick his balls. "Mum, Mum! There here! There here!" What's here? Oh yeah, bean bags, she'd almost forgotten. Tobias marched proudly out the store with a bag of bean bag beads over his shoulder. He'd chosen a bright purple bean bag because it looked like that thing in that cartoon he liked, there was a small army of un-beaned bean bags in there, stacks of them in all colours against the wall going half way up to the roof. Some poor prick had to make all these stupid things she thought. Sewing in an oven for three bucks an hour, some poor cunt more like. Still, Tobias was happy at least. She stood outside the car and finished her cigarette while he jumped around inside, he wanted to get home and fill his bean bag. She looked across the half empty full carpark at the gumtrees against the brick. He was licking her onto the waves, she arched as the surge rose from the deep. Her tissue clustered and screaming to be torn apart, screaming to fuse closer. "Mum, Mum! Hurry up!" At the lights she decided to stop off and get a bottle of wine and cook herself a nice meal that night. *** They crossed the river at Tailem Bend. Waterskiers fanning across the chocolate water. From the bridge the people camping looked like mice. He smoked Brads cigarettes and drummed along to the songs on the dashboard. He did'nt really know his cousin that well anymore, he had'nt seen her in years. Her and Brad had bought a farm near Gawler. They had a pet turkey, on Christmas day everyone took turns doing the 'I bet he's nervous' joke. She was into witchcraft now, and he liked that about his cousin. Deep river kisses. The shimmering water fanning further away with each drum on the dashboard. *** Tobias sat infront of the t.v on his new purple beanbag while she chopped coriander in the kitchen. She sipped a cold grassy white. Did any of this really happen? A small mark on her arm that seemed to be fading quicker than she wanted. She was tempted to pinch it back to death. Fancy him not knowing that I fancied him! And he reckons he was wanking over me for months! They went to that fancy dress party as arabs and it was all she could do not to suck his tits when he got in the car. Did he really just want to pull my pants down when we worked together and eat me! She wanted to put her Elvis c.d on. She wanted to dance around the kitchen while the king cut loose in Las Vegas, but Tobias was watching t.v. And now he was leaving, now he had left. Had any of this really happened? She wanted to get drunk and ring her friends, but Tobias was watching t.v. "Mum! Mum!" It was the ad. for the place they'd been. *** The sun was setting behind them. A rusty streak in the side mirror behind the trees on the horizen. "Any choccy left cuzz?" Nick held the eski open while Brad fished about for a twix. He'd made himself eski monitor to feel useful. "No time to stop for tea cuzz, just a piss stop and a toasty. This fuck'n soda ash's slowed us down, I told the boss it was too heavy".

"What do you reckon they use it for anyway?" "Fuck knows". At the road house Brad knew another driver tucking into a plate of steak and chips and went over for a yarn. On christmas day Brad had three barbeques going. He sat between them with a long pair of tongs and a beer, conducting an orchestra of sizzling meat. He was family now and nothing was too good for his lot. He'd marinated enough steak to feed a village and piled gourmet sausages on top. Everyone left with cooked meat wrapped in foil. Uncle John got pissed and chased the turkey with what he thought was a turkey sausage but was actually pork and garlic, but the turkey did'nt know that, it just knew that a drunk mad man was chasing it. He did'nt drink on Christmas day, he had'nt drank for over a year now. Brad knew he was coming and that he was'nt drinking and filled the door of outdoor fidge with softdrink. He didn't call him cuzz on Christmas day, the family shroad was assumed in formation and he was just another stitch in it. Brad had'nt been there when he'd bring a bottle of scotch to the table and pour forth the abstract furies consuming him while his gran tried as best she could to consume her trifle without bursting into tears, no, when all that was going on Brad was still living in New Zealand and married to someone who was'nt his cousin. Now here Brad was, honorary member of a club who's membership he himself had let lapse. The two men stood in the truck depot and Brad called him cuzz because he loved his mother's sister's daughter and that was the only connection that they had. He slapped Brad's sweaty back and wondered who was weloming who.

Brad was leaning on the railing by the table talking to the other driver, he'd ordered a hamburger with special relish you could only get at this road house. He went for a piss and saw on his stomach near his groin a tooth shaped love bite. They ate in the truck, the last mouthfull still in Brad's hand when it shuddered to life again. She was there, a quiver in the vinyl quilted cabin that spilled in lacy theads out into the young blue night ahead of them. He rang her. No. She rang him. No. He rang her and left a message on her machine asking her to ring him and invite him over for dinner. She'd moved a few streets down recently and he was leaving in two days, "I could hit your place with a tennis ball" she said, and nature was screaming for equity. Getting ready his stomach was knotted with scrumptious intrigue, the ancient part of his brain banging logs his reason defensively tackled. Why did'nt she kiss me in the car after that party? Why did'nt I invite her in? That comment she made about his housemate being asleep, what was it exactly? Closing the door he swiped off his turban in bewilderment, it landed on the carpet, plastic rubies looking up at him like stupid fish eyes as his brain swarmed to try and untangle itself, his body trickling from red alert. She said Tobias was staying at a friends place for the night. Nick wondered if he should take a bottle of wine, dinner etiquette for the non drinker was as familiar to him as the history of Armenian soccer, besides it could only be an advantage if Kate had a few drinks. He had bought some chocolate. He decided to tell her he was running late and they could go and get a bottle if she wanted. Nick looked at the clock, if he left in ten minutes he'd still be early. He put the kettle on and lit another cigarette. His slow steps were fuelled by a racing pulse. Fuck! He'd forgotten the chocolate. He turned back to collect it. This was a bad sign, such a simple task forgotten. Or was it a good sign? Forgotten and then remembered before it was too late. Something seemed to hang in the balance with all this, some higher council of natural justice was being addressed. It was meant to be and now was the time, and if it did'nt happen, what did that mean? Did it simply mean that it was'nt meant to be? And if that was the case then what the hell was? Why do some planes fly and others crash? A simple cotton thread would have caused him anxiety at his point, he walked the short distance through a purple snow of jacaranda petals towards her house like a medieval serf looking for signs on a crow pecked field.

*** Kate pushed open the screendoor with her foot and put the plate and the bottle on the table in the courtyard out the back. Tobias wanted to know why she was'nt eating inside and she said because she felt like eating outside. She wanted to be as far away from the TV and the ironing and the dead lightbulbs and the bills on the coffeetable as possible. She lit a little candle, lit her cigarette off that and leant back. She was glad now that she had'nt got drunk and rang anyone. How do you report an invisable avalanche? He kissed her neck, he kissed her neck with his teeth like he meant to eat her like she asked him to. Nice food two nights in a row, she smiled and took a mouthfull. She luxuriated in the sensual phantoms, the wine helping to pull closer the ribbons of what she had tasted from the darkness. A streetlight blinked through the neighbour's trees and that's what it was she thought. Sharp and shiny, a beautiful blade cutting through the clouds. Cock like oily satin inside her, inside the real her, not the her she had to be to stop the world from spinning out of control. His cock touched the acorn of herself and it released a forgotten energy that charged through dormant pathways, it swept out the pressed layers of polite nothings and bright clipped tones and left her free to fuck and grunt and sweat. She tried not to think of him now, as in what he was doing right now, in a truck somewhere between here and Melbourne. Melbourne. Dead sound like in a sound proofed room. She tried not to think about it. The acorn had shot enough tendrils to canopy her for now. She watered them with wine and enjoyed the space under the dreamy branches, a space as big as the table and the candle light. She lit another cigarette and topped up her glass. She had a friend in Melbourne she had'nt seen for awhile, how long was it? She tried not to think about it. He was standing in her room, she could see him hard in his briefs. She felt it through the material and then popped it out, curved like a tick. He was above her pulling himself, her hands where on his chest. "Mum, Mum! Your mobile's ringing". The canopy collapsed in some parts and thickened in others, she took the phone outside. She was glad he'd weakened and rang. The voice was distant and sapless. It was the boy's father and he wanted to talk about money. He wanted to talk about money at ten thirty on a Tuesday night because it had just occurred to him. After awhile they agreed to talk about it again tomorrow and she went back inside and gave the phone to her son so he could talk to him and took a big gulp of wine which was'nt so nice now that it had started to get warm. "Mum, Mum! Dad want's to talk to you again". She came back inside and took the phone and did'nt bother going out again. Firstly he asked what the boy was doing up so late and she reminded him that it was the school holidays and then he just wanted to chat. He asked her what she'd been up to and she said "oh you know, same ol' same ol'"and then he told her about what a cunt his boss was and she looked outside and the candle had gone out. After she hung up she went back outside for another cigarette. The wine tasted like piss now but there was just a bit left in the glass so she swallowed it. "Mum, Mum! can you tuck me in?" She took the empty plate and bottle inside and put them by the sink, then followed Tobias into his room. He was under the sheets and she was stroking his hair, he gave her a bored sleepy smile and closed his eyes. *** They crossed the Westgate bridge and the lit shapphire jewellery of the city glowed beside them over the water, a mass of tall dark and handsome buildings cooly welcoming them. "Welcome to your new home cuzz". Nick's eyes swam over the cities necklaced night, and it was all that he could see. ***

Kate stood in the lounge looking at one of her son's socks hanging on the lampshade. She had two cigarettes left. He kissed her awake that morning before the sun was strong enough to cast shadows. Deep river kisses, kisses that washed sleep away. They had a coffee and a smoke, she asked him if he wanted any breakfast and he said he did'nt. He had stuff to do and he had'nt packed yet. He waved from the drive way, and then he was gone, just like that. She grabbed the sock and looked for the other one, it was in the usual hideout under the sofa cushion. She smiled as she undressed in her room, the canopy had evaporated and she knew, she knew it like gravity, that all the shit that had been blown out the way would drift back into place. And she smiled because that stuff stopped the world from tearing itself apart, it kept tonnes of steel whistling through forces that should destroy it like a flame to a feather. And she smiled because she felt the first twinges of the beautiful sadness that she had heard people talk about, a ruby radiance dying in the dark, and sleep was coming, and she wanted to drown in it.