The Shearing Gun (10 page)

I ducked into the change rooms to say hello and to rev the boys up, but soon rejoined Elliot in the cold and wet.

“So which footy team do you go for in the AFL?” I asked as I sat down and found a beer. We yakked about the Australian Football League for a bit, until the siren sounded, and the white-clad umpire bounced the ball on the sodden field to start the game. For the next twenty minutes, I yelled advice and encouragement to my team, clapping at every goal, while managing to insult every player from the Wagin side. Of course I kept it clean—watching football was a family pastime in the country, and there were plenty of kids running around.

When the siren sounded to end the quarter, I sat down and looked at Elliot with a guilty expression. I’d invited him to the game and then took no notice of him for twenty minutes straight.

“Shit, sorry, Quackle. I just get a bit caught up with the excitement and all. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

He smiled easily at me. “Not a problem, Hank. I was enjoying the game myself. I have to admit, you’re very passionate about your football, so it was fun watching you nearly pee your pants every time a Dumbleyung player shot at goal.”

“Fuck off, Quackle!” I razzed him.

He raised his beer bottle to me and simply said, “Bottoms up, Hank.”

Boom!
Just like that I was instantaneously embarrassed, aroused, and maddened. I quickly sat down in my chair so nobody could see the erection that had sprung from nowhere. Elliot had an adorable smirk on his face, and he glanced at my lap. I’m sure I heard him mutter something about karma being good, so I snarked, “Definitely not giving you Dom’s number now.”

He laughed and dug into the bag of chips I’d brought with me. I snatched them away from him, so he popped his finger into his mouth and sucked on it. “Mmm, salty.”

I tried scowling at him, but in the end I had to laugh. My dick wasn’t behaving himself, so I sent Elliot to the canteen to buy us some pies while I got my libido under control. It was infinitely infuriating. I had spent three years in this town and had never sprung a boner in public, no matter what the provocation. Now, one person knew my secret, and he was getting my goat constantly.

I thrust all thoughts of gay sex and bottoms to the back of my mind and cheered loudly as the siren sounded to signal the start of the second quarter.

At half time, with only a little bit of tomato sauce staining my shirt to prove I’d eaten, I took Quackle to the change rooms. The boys were covered in mud, but they had happy grins on their faces since they were three goals ahead of the Wagin lads. Rooster was propped up in the corner with ice on his ankle, and I saw Elliot give a couple of looks his way while I talked to Neil about tagging his player and not letting his man out of his sight.

Finally I elbowed Elliot. “Go and have a look at him, Doc. I can see that you’re itching to. No one’s going to yell at you for caring.” The glance he threw at me was a mixed bag of chagrin, relief, and irritation. But he immediately approached Rooster and spoke to him, gesturing at his ankle.

I smiled and turned back to Neil. He was looking at me strangely. “What was that about?”

I shrugged. “The poor guy was fidgeting so much because he wanted to go over and patch up ole Rooster.”

“How did you know that?”

I glanced at Neil. He was a couple of years older than me, and we’d attended the same school for about four years back at Lake King. We recognized each other the first day I came to a footy game in my new hometown, and soon he had me playing on the team. He was short and wiry, but fast on his feet, which meant he made a great half-forward player on the team. He also had a permanent grin etched on his face and was everybody’s best buddy. He knew gossip and secrets about every person in the district because he was the type of guy who would listen to you, and ask questions at the right moment to have you spilling your guts. If there was someone who would squirrel my secret out of me, it would be Neil.

Despite me hiding the biggest fucking secret of all time, Neil was still my friend. He was a top bloke, and I’m pretty sure he knew about Uncle Murray and his “accident.” Those sorts of stories are told to young boys as a warning.

I shrugged and told him, “You know about my Uncle Murray, don’t you? You remember I lived with him for a bit in the city?” He nodded. “Uncle Murray doesn’t farm anymore, but it’s still in his blood. He knits, you know? Spins his own yarn on an old spinning wheel and knits up jumpers for all his friends. He loves the wool. I don’t think we can ever wash it out once we are born to it. When I lived with him in the city, we attended a couple of agricultural shows together. The man would be positively twitchy if he spotted some sort of knitting or spinning display. He’d jiggle and tense up, turn his back on the site, and try to ignore it until it became too much. I’d tell him to go, and he’d be off like a bullet, gleefully exclaiming over the fleeces and the spinning wheels. He’d talk for hours with anyone with the same passion.”

I nodded at Elliot, where he was gently unwrapping Rooster’s injury. “It’s the same with the Doc, I think. He’s a doctor because he likes it. He cares. I could tell when he was doctoring my shoulder and when he frowned at me because he thought I was doing too much. Remember that doctor we had a couple of years back? Randeep, or whatever he was called? He was a doctor for the money and prestige. He didn’t give a fuck about his patients. Elliot over there? He’s cut from the same cloth as Doc Larsen. He’s a doctor because he wants to help people.”

Neil screwed up his face and looked over at Elliot. “You reckon?”

“Absolutely. He came over my place just to make sure I wasn’t overdoing things. A man who drives an eighty kilometer round-trip to check on someone? He’s someone who cares about people.”

Neil was still staring at the corner as Elliot rewrapped Rooster’s foot. “Ya sure he doesn’t fancy you, Hank? You never know with these city wankers.”

“Nah, mate. It’s not like that.”
Much!
“He hasn’t made a move on me or anything, and I’ll be pissed if I hear you telling anyone that. This town needs fucking good doctors, and I swear I will use both of my fists on your thick head if you run this one out of town, just for the sake of gossip.”

Neil was a regular old biddy when it came to rumors. I had no idea how he learned some of the things he did, but he was a pit of secrets and tales. I hoped that by warning him off, he would drop the speculation about Elliot’s sexuality. I also hoped that putting in a good word for Quackle would mean a bit more respect for him and maybe a friendship or two. Elliot’s words about being so alone out in the country were still ringing in my ears.

But my interference wasn’t needed. When we tramped back outside to watch the second half of the game, Rooster came with us. Elliot made him comfy on a chair and propped his twisted ankle up on the esky. Rooster and he chatted away while I screamed my lungs out as the Wagin team brought the margin back within a couple of points.

Just as the siren sounded for three-quarter time, Elliot’s mobile rang from his pocket.

He frowned at the screen but immediately answered. “Hello?” There was a pause and he looked up with a concerned frown. “I’m at the footy game on the oval. I’ll be there in two minutes. Keep pressure on the wound.”

He stabbed at the screen and looked around for me. His car was back at my place because I’d driven us both into town. I didn’t even wait for an explanation. It was obvious there was some sort of emergency at the clinic. I dug in my pocket and pulled out my keys. “Take my car. I’ll walk to the clinic after the game and find you.”

“Thanks, Hank.” He palmed the keys and took off to the car park at a run.

Rooster and I shared a look—one of worry and concern. We were both troubled by the fact that someone in our small community was injured, but we knew that we were unable to do anything to help. Besides, the rumor mill would soon update us.

I was right. Before the final siren, we were told that Chris Palmer’s oldest boy had cut himself badly with a knife. The boy was probably only about thirteen—a freckle-faced lad who idolized his father. Sarah Mason reckoned that she’d heard them say they were trimming cattle hoofs that day, so we all knew it could be bad. Those trimming blades were fantastically sharp, to make the job go as quickly as possible.

By the time I walked into town, I knew that the Doc wasn’t even there. He’d boarded the ambulance with the boy, and they were racing toward the Katanning hospital for surgery. I entered the clinic and found Gloria on duty again. She was picking up blood-stained towels when I stuck my head in.

“Hey, Gloria.”

She was a little pale and shaken, but she managed a smile. Gloria was a good sort—down to earth with a sensible head on her. The type of woman I’d wish to marry if I were into girls. She was cute in a laid-back jeans-and-boots type of way that made you instantly feel at ease. She was a local girl who’d gone to the city to study, but had chosen a field in which she could return to her roots and be of help to the community.

“Hey, Hank. Did the boys win?”

“Absolutely. You didn’t think we would lose, did you? I’m sure Neil can give you a play-by-play description if you’re really interested.”

She turned a little red and didn’t answer, which was answer enough for me. It seemed like I wasn’t the only one in town with secrets. “Doctor Montgomery said you’d be coming by for your keys. I’m glad he was at the game and not out at your place when I called him.”

I looked at her sympathetically. “So, is the Palmer boy going to be okay?”

She sighed. “Doctor Montgomery said he would be, but there was a heck of a lot of blood. I was ready to call a life-flight helicopter from Perth, but he was as cool as a cucumber when he rushed in here. He sewed up the artery or something to stop it bleeding, but the boy needs surgery to put it all back together. I guess what Doctor Larsen says about him is true.”

Now she had my curiosity revving. “What does Doc Larsen say about him?”

Gloria pulled the red-stained sheets off the examination table and bundled them into a green laundry bag. “Doctor Larsen said that he scored top marks in his exams and aced all his hospital rotations. Apparently the top hospitals in Sydney and Melbourne were both crying for him to specialize in surgery or something, but he wanted to be a GP. Doctor Larsen said that he couldn’t believe that someone as brilliant as Doctor Montgomery would want to come and work in a little country town where there’s no money to be made.”

“So we’d better look after him, huh?” I asked her. “Or else he may take off? Abandon us poor country folk for the city lights?”

Gloria gave me a long sideways look. “There are already a dozen ladies lining up for the privilege of looking after him on a permanent basis. He’s a total sweetheart. He sure has the ladies trotting after him. And what’s he doing? Taking refuge out at your place.”

I roared with laughter. “We have to look out for one another, us bachelors. You ladies can have us in front of the priest before we even know if it’s Sunday or Tuesday. I’m teaching him self-preservation.” We grinned at one another for a bit before I asked her for Elliot’s mobile number. “I’ll give him a bell and find out when he’s coming home, so he can get his car,” I told her.

She wrote down the number, and I sent him a message before I left for home.

Let me know when you are coming home. Your car is still at mine. I hope the boy is ok.

It was after 8:00 p.m. when the reply came.

Shit, Hank! I’m in Perth. I hitched a ride in the ambulance with my patient and now I’m stuck!

I laughed out loud in my empty house and replied.
Would you like me to give you Dom’s number? Maybe he can take care of you for the night?

He was waiting for me.
WTF? I hope you’re joking!

I was upset to realize I was
glad
he didn’t want the cute twink’s number. So much for not fishing in my backyard, huh? I messaged back.
Give me five minutes and I’ll call you, ok?

I rang Neil—he was my gossip man.

“H’lo?”

“Neil, mate! It’s Hank. The Doc is stuck in Perth. He went in the ambulance to Perth with the boy. Do you know of anyone making the trip back in the next twenty-four hours?”

I heard a female giggle in the background. I would swear on my mother’s bible it was Gloria, but Neil talked over it. “Ken Darby. He’s one of the coppers at the Nyabing police station. He was going to Perth this weekend because his oldest daughter had a baby on Friday. He’s driving back tomorrow and has to pass by pretty close. Or maybe Sue-Ann, Frank Watson’s wife. Frank is selling off his livestock and Sue-Ann was driving the truck to the markets.”

I shook my head at Neil’s knowledge. How the hell did he know these things? A call to Nyabing’s police station got me Ken’s mobile number. Soon I was talking to Ken, who promised to pick Elliot up the following morning.

I dialed Elliot’s number. He picked up straight away. “Hank!”

“Heya, Quackle. Did you get a little lost? How the hell did you end up in the big smoke?”

He chuckled. “Bloody hell. This freakin’ country is too big! Back in Melbourne I would remain with a patient when they were transferred between hospitals. Then it was just a matter of taking a taxi back home. We were two hours into the journey from Katanning to Perth before I suddenly realized Dumbleyung doesn’t have a taxi service!” He laughed at his own stupidity, and I felt a warmth spread over me. This couldn’t be attraction. I didn’t do attraction. I was interested in the quick fuck, and that was all.

“Yeah—even with your mother’s money, it’s going to cost you an organ or two to get a taxi home,” I joked.

“Luckily I have two kidneys, then, yeah?”

“Don’t worry, you can keep them both. I’ve found you a ride home tomorrow, and it won’t even cost you a blow job.”
Shit, Hank! You’re not flirting, are you?

“Yeah? Depends upon the recipient of this blow job before I decide if I’m relieved or upset about that.”

“Mate, you’d better be joking, because the ride I’ve found for you is a policeman in his fifties. I really hope you don’t offer.”