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‘I bet you do, you dirty little —!'

THUD! OOMPH
! Brett hit the muddy ground, his jaw stinging. He looked up at Mr Douglas, the farmer's fists steeled to unleash another punch.

‘C'mon! Get up!'

‘Dad! Stop it!' Caitlyn shouted, now at Brett's side.

‘What are you waiting for? Get up!'

‘Stop it, I said!'

Brett pushed himself off the ground and stood up, wiping his bloody lip. He gritted his teeth, all fired up.

‘C'mon! Show me what you're made of.'

‘Dad, are you crazy!'

‘No. I'm protecting you from this criminal here. I want to show you what kind of a gutless lowlife he is.'

Brett rocked back and forth on his feet, ready to spring forward. His two fists were poised close to his
chest. Any second now …

‘Don't, Brett! Don't!' Caitlyn pleaded.

‘I have to,' he growled back, eyes only on her father.

‘No you don't. Just walk away!'

‘I can't.'

‘Yes, you can. Prove to me you've changed.
Please
.'

Brett looked at her out of the corner of his eye. That last word hit him harder than any punch. She was begging him — not only for herself but for him too. He felt cramps in his fingers and he glanced down. He saw his fists. Fists which were swollen and aching from too many fights … He shook his head. He had to stop thinking that way. This fool wanted a fight. Brett'd give him one.

Pain! Two punches smacked him in the face. Her father lashed out while he was distracted. He was yelling again but Brett's ears were filled with Caitlyn's screams. Brett threw back two punches of his own, neither connecting. Swaying slightly, he and Mr Douglas circled each other, ready for the next shot.

Brett clenched his fists tighter. The pain travelled up his arms. The bruises there stung too. Then his stomach flared up. His skull and back also. Ignore it. You'll be okay, the old Brett said. No, no. You won't be, the new one argued back.

‘
Walk away
.'

Suddenly, Brett realised he was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of arguing. Tired of the pain. Sixteen years of anger had only got him further into trouble. He couldn't keep solving his problems with his fists. He wanted out. He wanted a normal life.

He shook and lowered his guard, raised it again then yelled and turned away. He couldn't fight any more. He just couldn't.

‘Coward!' Mr Douglas shouted after him. ‘You gutless dog! Don't you come back round here ever again! I don't like your kind — especially losers!'

Brett staggered into the darkness clutching himself from the pain and cold, those words echoing in his ears. He shook his head. That wasn't right. He'd lost one fight but won another.

Three days later, a teenager kayaked down the Barwon, surveying the storm damage. Three brothers aged seven to twelve wrestled outside their house shouting and laughing in the ankle-deep waters. Two Aboriginal kids backflipped off an inflated rubber tube into the river and repeated the performance. A State Emergency Service crew helped an elderly couple to drier land. A dog stood guard as its shell-shocked owners wondered what to do next. A rescue chopper thundered overhead looking for troublespots. Shop owners stood in open doorways, sweeping out the mud, which was their only visitor for the day.

But the storm was over and the sun was out.

Brett watched all this from the passenger seat of Sam's ute. He couldn't help but sympathise with
these people as they entered his life for that one quick thought then disappeared again. Their despair and misery. Their losses. The hardship the country tested them with. If it wasn't drought, then it was flood.

But was that why they lived out here? Was it the challenge? Or did they love the land that much? Maybe. He didn't know, and he didn't think he would ever know. The next day it would be different. The town would start rebuilding itself as it always had.

But for Brett there was no happy ending.

The cops caught him; pulled him over for trespassing. He couldn't prove it, but it was obvious Caitlyn's father had dobbed him in. The hotel owner who'd witnessed the fight between him and Tyson was called in to give a statement and mentioned that Brett had broken into his bar two weeks earlier. Brett was asked if that was true and he answered yes.

He would be sent to a proper juvenile detention centre this time. No doubt about it. The charges against him were clear-cut and there had been witnesses. The prospect of serving twelve months or more in one frightened him. It would be a hundred times worse than The Farm.

Sam, driving the ute, followed the police 4WD in
silence to the agreed meeting point. He just stared at the road, quietened by his own thoughts as Josh, Brett and Frog sat beside him squashed into the rest of the front seat. No one felt like talking.

Brett didn't know why they'd come. He'd never asked them to. In fact, he wished they hadn't. It would've made this a whole lot easier. They could get on with their lives and forget about him. He could face the uncertain future that awaited him. He'd just get into the paddy wagon and disappear into the sunset like they did in the movies. Simple. No fake farewells. No you-be-goods. No promises of never-to-be-written letters. Just the slamming of the wagon's back door and a lot of diesel. But Brett overlooked one thing. They were his friends.

He'd made some enemies here too. Rebecca for instance. He wouldn't see her again. She'd skipped town after a local dobbed her in for soliciting. She was probably shacked up with some truckie by now, selling herself. He felt sorry for her. A person couldn't live like that — or with themselves for that matter. One day — sooner than she might think — no one would want her anymore.

As for Tyson, he was already on his way south. He'd left an hour before Brett in the back of another piggy van, charged with several offences, including
escaping, that he'd be formally sentenced for in Sydney. Apparently, he'd been holed up in a squatter's shack in the bush since doing a runner. He was lying low until the cops forgot about him. Flushed out by the rain, he'd headed into town to steal a car and seen Brett making the phone call.

Sam gently eased the brakes.

So this was it. The end. The cops in the 4WD ahead of them stepped out of their vehicle and said hello to the officers waiting by the wagon.

‘You ready?' Sam asked.

Brett swallowed and half-smiled. ‘No.'

They hopped out into the morning sun. It reflected off the rain waters, causing them to shade their eyes. The warmth was glorious. After riding and walking through the cold and wet for several nights, Brett welcomed the change.

‘Got your gear, Brett?' Sergeant Kenny asked.

‘Yer, right here,' Brett mumbled. Sam, Josh and Frog followed them, seeing the cops didn't want to waste any time.

‘Open her up then, Rog.'

The back door of the wagon swung open and Brett recognised the cage that had first brought him here. It was not a friendly reunion.

‘In you get.'

Brett grabbed the roof to pull himself in but Sam stopped him. ‘Wait!' The old man pushed Frog forward, who walked eyes down towards him.

‘I just wanted to say seeya,' the kid said quietly.

‘Thanks,' Brett answered. ‘I guess you finally get a room to yourself, hey?'

‘At least now I won't have to put up with any more of your girlfriends coming through the window.'

Brett tried to smile. He wanted to call him a crazy tadpole or a shrimp but he let it go. He didn't know why.

‘Well, seeya.'

Frog went back to the group. He was replaced by Josh who walked with his hands in his pockets and his eyes stealing away to the surrounding fields. He stopped and breathed over his bottom lip. ‘What can I say?'

‘Don't. It just makes it harder.'

‘I understand. But I do want you to remember one thing: don't give in.'

Brett nodded. ‘I won't.'

Josh turned round but he didn't get far.

‘Score a try for me against the poms, won't you?'

The stablehand grinned. ‘How 'bout two?'

Finally, it was Sam's turn. Brett hoped it wouldn't come to this. He felt like he'd let him down. No one
had put up with more from him. He'd been patient so many times. Forgiven him. Let him back to The Farm when he'd run away. He'd always been there regardless of the trouble Brett had caused and all he'd got in return was grief.

‘That's not true,' Sam said, looking away. ‘You just … took time to settle in.'

‘I never settled in.'

‘I know. And I doubt you will anywhere for quite a while. You've still got to work out who you are first.'

‘How long do you think that'll take?'

‘I can't tell you. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never. Just remember to learn from your mistakes just as you do from your wins.'

‘Was me being sent here a mistake? I mean, I'm going right back to where I started.'

‘Did you learn anything while you were here?'

‘Yer, of course. Lots of stuff.'

Like friendship. Trust. Love. And loss.

‘Then you're better off than you were three months ago.'

Brett thought about this. And in some strange way the old man was right. His life would've been emptier if he had never met Sam, Frog, Josh and yes — her.

‘Do you … think I can make it, Sam?'

‘I hope so,' he answered softly.

Silence. The pair felt uncomfortable. There were a lot of things they wanted to say, but they'd stay unsaid. Each of them knew what the other was going to say anyway.

The pause was enough for Sergeant Kenny to tell them time to go and move Brett once again towards the paddy wagon.

‘Don't forget us,' Sam said, as Josh and Frog joined him.

‘I won't.'

The goodbyes finished, the cops snapped a pair of handcuffs onto Brett's wrists. He paused and looked across the Barwon to the Queensland side one last time. There was no urgent blasting of a car horn or last minute call of ‘Wait!'. She hadn't come to see him off. He didn't expect her to because it was finished between them.

He'd heard a rumour Caitlyn was moving to Brisbane to live with her brothers. She'd decided to go after the confrontation between him and her father. Good. There wasn't much here for someone as lively as her.

Brett allowed himself to smile. He remembered their times together. The rodeo. Their first kiss.
Swimming. Escaping The Farm. He'd enjoyed every moment and wouldn't leave without those memories.

‘C'mon,' one of the cops urged, putting his sunglasses on.

Reluctantly, Brett clambered into the cage before the door was shut behind him. He looked out a peep hole as the wagon's engine was started.

And watched his friends then the town he'd called home for three months disappear. When they finally did, he slumped down on the metal seat for the long journey back. He thought about his mistakes and consoled himself with his wins as the shadows across the green-gold countryside lengthened. A lot of people would say that he'd failed when he did get back to Sydney, that he was a loser. But they'd be wrong. He was young and he was going to start again. Because as an old man — no, a friend — had once told him: “Just remember, Brett, only you can change your life.”

BOYZ ‘R' US

It's a long, mad ride from Summer Bay! Chicks, babes, cars and music; bored kids and shouting mothers; fathers that suck on a bottle to put themselves to sleep; and TV sets blaring mindlessly. Race tensions are hotting up in Marrickville and the media want a gang war so badly that they nearly start one. As Mitch looks back on his time as former leader of the Thunderjets, he tells the searing story of a scene that in some ways, no matter how hard you try, you can never leave.

 

Praise for
Boyz ‘R' Us
, winner of the Royal Blind Society's Talking Book Award:

 

‘difficult moral choices at every turn of the plot … it deals with the issues of power, rebellion and self-image. But there's never a dull moment. For such a young writer, it exhibits an impressive maturity of judgment and consistency of tone'
Canberra Times

 

‘Heaps good novel, eh. First one I've ever finished' David, Age 13

 

THE CRUSH

Matthew Cassidy is an up-and-coming league star. The talent scouts are circling him, his school team has reached the finals for the first time ever and he's determined to play professional one day. Not bad for a down-to-earth guy who lives with his mum above a fish and chip shop on the poor side of town!

But despite being the team captain, a natural at the game and popular with his mates, Matt really wants one thing in life – a dad. All his friends have one, so why can't he?

Meanwhile, Matt is facing another dilemma – a crush. Blue-eyed Kelly Sinclair has caught his heart and won't let go. Drop-dead gorgeous, but shy, she's everything he has dreamed about. But she already has a boyfriend – a guy who hates Matt's guts and will do anything to destroy his career!

 

THE NEVER BOYS

The lies that bind …

Dean Mason is a boy with many secrets. For starters, that's not his real name. On the run from the law, he hides in the Barossa Valley — famous for its vineyards and Mediterranean heat. But he's soon discovered …

… By a beautiful, fiery girl who's as wild as the flamenco music he tries to tame her with. Together, they stir up trouble as each attempts to escape a world in which they feel trapped. As Dean soon learns, the mistakes that you make when you're young haunt you for life. And secrets never last.