Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 10

They went back to the car, walking around the corner where the art-deco clocktower building was. As they were passing the Westminster Chimes rang out, striking the hour; William looked at his watch.

Roman said, “Take no notice of it, William. It’s wrong as often as not.

Christian agreed, “It is, it’s about time someone did something about it.”

“Yeah, one day.”

Back in the car, they went straight ahead, across the main street to the parallel street behind it, between the backs of the shops and the quiet railway yard.

“Cement silos up there,” Roman nodded. “Obviously.”

“Yes, obviously,” Dylan replied. “What’s that big old building?”

Christian replied, “Impressive, isn’t it? Interesting anyway. That’s the old railway workshops. They shut down years ago and cost the town about 60 jobs, but they did bugger-all anyway. My father did his painting apprenticeship there, and learned to drink.

There’s just a couple of small businesses work out of there now, Billy's Burgers have got some of it, but the rest is empty.”

“It is,” Roman said. “They call it progress. That’s the old Railways’ Goods Sheds over there, they’re mostly empty too. The Railway Preservation Society are trying to get a museum going in there, they’re a bit late.

Railway station up ahead, and that’s all-but empty too. It’s all a bit sad really, this must’ve been a busy area once.”

Christian said, “Watch it, Roman. There’s the Dragon Lady backing out of the Adelphi. Bump into her and we’re in trouble!”

“We won’t do that then!” He swerved to avoid the car coming out into the street.

“The Dragon Lady?” William asked.

“Yeah, Mrs. Reynolds, Superboy’s grandmother. She really shouldn’t be driving, she’s as blind as a bat.”

“They should take her licence off her.”

“Maybe, but who’s game to do that? Everyone just gives her a wide berth, it’s easier.

The back street ended and they went around to and along the Esplanade to the bridge.

“What’s that big patch of jungle there?”

“That’s the Domain. It’s meant to be a park, but it’s just native bush with a few paths cut through it. The whole area was like that before they cleared it for the town. There’s a cool swimming-hole in the river behind it.”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Christian said. “At least you can swim there. Swimming on the beaches is mostly just fighting against the waves.”

“Don’t fight ‘em,” Dylan grinned. “Ride them.”

William said, “Dills surfs. He’s going to teach me.”

“You’re going to teach the teacher?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Good luck with that.”

Over the bridge, they went straight ahead, towards Carvers’ Beach. They passed a little old truck, heading into town with a huge load of straw. Roman tooted the horn and the two in the front smiled and waved. “Hi, Jinks!”

They got a casual wave and no smile in return.

“Jinks?” said William after they’d passed.

“Yeah,” Christian answered. “My boss, Mr. Jenkins. I’ll be shifting that straw next week. It’s for the stables.”

“Is he a good boss? He doesn’t look very happy.”

Roman said, “Jinks is okay. He’s a decent sort of guy, but you’re right, he’s not very happy. His live-in boyfriend walked out on him, years ago, and he’s never got over it, I think he never will. He just lives for his horses now.”

“Damm! The poor guy. Dills, don’t you ever walk out on me.”

“Why would I want to do that? I’m going nowhere, unless you come with me.”

“See that you don’t! I love you, Dills.”

“I love you too, even more.”

“Do not!”

“Do so.”

“Shut up, Dills. Shut up and kiss me.”

He did.

“Oi!” Roman objected. “Behave yourselves in the backseat. We’re giving you a fantastic guided tour here and you’re not paying attention.”

“We are, mostly,” William grinned. “What was that old bridge back there?”

“That was Marvin’s Creek and the old railway bridge. There used to be a railway line from town out to the Cape. They got the stone for the tipheads from the quarries out there.’

“Railways again?” Dylan said. “Are you a fan of railways, Roman?”

“I guess I am. My granddad was once stationmaster for Westpoint, back in the days when they had stationmasters.”

“The good old days?”

“Something like that.”

William said, “One day, today will be our good old days.”

“Very deep, William.”

“I’m not shallow!”

“You’re not, Wills. Kiss me.”

He did.

Christian sighed, “Much more of this and we’ll have our own adult movie in the backseat.”

“You will not!”

“Yeah, shut up, Christian.”

“Sheesh! It’s not me who’s misbehaving.

This is Carvers’ Beach. Go around the back way, Roman, past the Domain.”

They drove slowly through the new, and growing, suburb of Carvers’ Beach. A kids’ rugby game was happening in the Domain, with a crowd of parents and supporters, barracking for and abusing them.

“Rugby!” William snorted. “Stupid game. They should call it ‘Thugby’.”

“Someone’s not a fan,” Roman grinned.

“He’s not,” Dylan agreed. “Wills plays soccer.”

William said, “I do. That’s proper football. Why is this area called Carvers’ Beach, do Ma’s family own it?”

“They used to,” Roman replied. “The Carvers had a farm out here. It fell down because they didn’t look after it. Here’s the cement works coming.”

He drove slowly past the sprawling cement works complex. It was big, dirty and dusty looking. “How do they make cement, William?”

“It’s basically limestone with a bit of coke and gypsum. They crush it and roast it in the coal-fired ovens. All the ingredients are local, except the gypsum, that’s imported from Australia.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wiki.”

“Shut up, Christian.”

The car stopped in the park near the Tavern at the Cape. They all got out and looked down the rugged cliffs to the beach far below them.

William said, “Cape Foulwind was named by Captain Cook. He sailed past on a rough day.”

“He got that right,” Roman nodded.

“He did. They never landed, just sailed past. He called it a ‘land uplifted high’. He thought he saw farms here, with big grassy fields. He got that wrong –it was just the flat Pakihi swamps. Where to now?”

“We go up the track here, through the paddocks, around to the Cape. It’s a bit of a walk, but it’s worth it.”

They walked around the track, passing the small monument commemorating Abel Tasman’s first sighting of New Zealand on the way.

Roman said, “It was a bit presumptuous of the Europeans really.”

“What was?”

“Coming here and claiming that they’d discovered it when there had already been people living here for hundreds of years. It would be the same thing if you guys went home and claimed to have discovered Westpoint.”

“Well we did, in a way. We discovered it for ourselves.”

“Yeah, we did,” Dylan agreed. “And we had native guides too. Thanks for showing us around, guys.”

“No probs. We’ll send you the bill next week.”

“Yeah, do that. Just address it to ‘crime’.”

“To crime?”

“Crime never pays, don’t you know?”

“Ooh, he’s quick!”

“Not just a pretty face, My Wills.”

“Shut it, Dills.”

They stopped in the viewing area, looking down at the seals on the rocks below them. The visitors were not impressed.

“There’s a much bigger colony in Kaimoana, you can drive right up to them and walk in amongst the seals when the tide’s out.”

“Wouldn’t want to get too close those mothers anyway. They’re wild animals and they’ve got big teeth.”

“They have, but they’re okay if you don’t upset them. The main thing is not to get between them and the sea, that really upsets them. What else have you got?”

“We’ll go down to the Bay.”

They went down the short track to the big car-park on the beach. This time they were impressed, especially Dylan.

“Wow! Look at the surf – very cool. This is a great area. We’re camping here next time we come and I’m bringing my board.”

“That’s cool!” William exclaimed. “Look, Dills, penguins!”

“Yeah, Little Blues, waddling up the beach,” Christian said. “They nest up in the grass. You can look but don’t touch. They’re vicious little sods and they can give you a good bite.”

They strolled along the beach for a bit. “That’s the Bayhouse, over there, art gallery and restaurant. Daniel and Tony own it – Superboy’s brothers. They’re in Whozzat too.”

“Is that the Tony with the garage in the main street?”

“That’s the one. He’s a busy boy.”

“He must be. How many brothers has Superboy got anyway?”

“I dunno, heaps. He collects them.”

“Or they adopt him. Ross did years ago, when he was just a kid.”

“Yeah, he did, but Jonathan’s his only real brother by blood. He’s his other half. Time we were getting back into town. We’ll go and see how the car’s going.”

“If it’s going.”

They went back to the car and returned to Westpoint by the other route, through the wind-swept farmland to the Coast Road, and back through the Crossroads, by-passing Carver’s Beach.

They cruised around the back-streets and made their way back to the Carvers’. The party was over, Ma was back inside, but there was still a lot of people around. “There always is.”

Dylan’s car was not there, they’d towed it away.

Christian grinned, “They’ve probably sold it!”

“They wouldn’t, would they?” Dylan worried.

“No, not really. Once they might have, but not now. They’re all reformed, kind of.”

“Yeah,” Roman said. “Kind of. Come and see Ma, she’ll feed us.”

“I was hoping that someone would.”

“Shut up, Wills.”

Ma greeted them, asked how their day was, and told them to help themselves to the food. There was plenty left over, there always was. Meat and fish were in the oven, plates, salads and drinks on the bench.

There was no room on the table. Ma had the Westpoint News, the evening paper, spread out on it, so they went through to the other room and sat on the floor to eat there. There were kids all over the place, but no sign of Jeremy.

William smiled at the young girl who was staring at him.

“Hi. Has Jeremy gone home?”

“No,” she blushed. “Jeremy’s sleeping at his Uncle Jonathan’s tonight. It’s their turn.”

“Their turn?”

Roman said, “They’re moving him around the family. He slept here the other night. A little bit of Jeremy goes a long way.”

“Really? I thought he was a great wee boy.”

“He is, I guess. He just never stops! We’ve got him next week. He is NOT sleeping in our room.”

“The kid’s got a big family.”

“That he has. A great family too.”

The little girl caught William’s eye. “Have you got a girlfriend?”

“No,” he replied. “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“Bugger!” She got up and left the room.

Dylan chortled at the look on William’s face.

“Don’t, Dills.”

Stretch came into the room. “There you are, Boys. Your car’s outside, we fixed it.”

“You did?” Dylan jumped to his feet. “That’s great! Thanks, umm, Stretch. How much do we owe you?”

“Owe? You owe us nothing. Put your money away, Boy.”

“But you guys spent all that time on it, and you had to get a new part. We have to pay you something.”

“No, you don’t. It’s a gift. Don’t insult us by offering money”

“I don’t want to insult you, but it cost you.”

“It didn’t. Laurie had the distributor anyway. Look, Boy, Ma said fix it, so we did. Just say thank you and pass it on when someone else needs a hand, that’s the way it works.”

“Well, I, ah . . . I do thank you. We really appreciate it and we will pass it on, when we can. Thanks.”

“No problems, you’re welcome, Kid.”

Stretch went to the front of the house, Dylan and the others took their empty plates back to the kitchen. Ma looked around.

“Finished already? Lots more there if you want it.”

“No, thanks Mrs. Carver, that was plenty. Thanks for getting the guys to fix the car.”

“Not a problem. Time they did something useful. Throw your plates and stuff in the fire and get yourselves a drink. There’s no coke left, but there’s plenty of OJ, there always is.”

William and Christian took the paper plates and plastic cutlery back and put them in the open fire in the living room, while Dylan and Roman poured OJ into paper cups.

William looked down at the fire. “Everyone has big fires going around here.”

Christian said, “Yeah. Well, it’s a mining town. Coal’s dirt cheap around here, and the wood is free, the beaches are covered in it.”

“That’s one advantage of living around here. I guess water’s cheap too?”

“Water? The only problem with water is getting rid of the damm stuff. Okay, they’re burnt. Come and get a drink.”

Their drinks were waiting for them. Dylan and Roman were outside talking to Butch, so they went out there with them.

“Righto,” Roman said. “Time we were getting home. Bruno must think his throat’s cut by now.”

“Bruno?”

“Mrs. M’s dog. He’s home alone with no-one to feed him.”

“We’d best get going then.”

“My car’s out in the street, back-out there and you can follow me home.”

“Slowly!” Christian demanded

“Well, sort-of slowly.”

“You take it easy, Roman. Their car is not as powerful as ours, you lose them and they’re stuck.”

“No probs. You go with Dylan and William can ride with me.”

“No thanks,” said William. “I’m staying with Dills. I only feel safe with him.”

“Do you think I’m going to ravish you, or something?”

“No, I don’t, but we’ve heard about your driving. I’m staying with Dills.”

“I’m a good driver!” Roman protested.

“You’re a bloody wicked driver,” Christian replied. “Okay, you’re not bad, but you’re too fast. Take it easy, Roman.”

“Yes, Mum,” he sighed.

They said goodbye and thanks again. Ma told Dylan and William to come back anytime. They followed Roman out of town. He went straight along Derby Street, passed the school, passed the hospital, crossed Brigham Street, the main road north out of town, and turned right into Richards Street.

Five blocks down there took them to the main street. The St. John’s Theater was on their left on the corner. There were lights and scaffolding along the big side wall, with two guys up there, painting a mural on the theater.

“Bloody Vandals!” Christian yelled from the car.

The guy on the bottom level looked around and grinned. “Get away back out to the bush, you young hooligans!”

“Hooligans?” Roman stood at his side of the car. “We’re not the ones putting graffiti all over the St. John’s.”

“Graffitti? I’ll have you know, Mr. Dallas, this is going to be a work of art to dazzle the people of Westpoint for generations to come! Well, it will be if Jordie stops dropping bloody paint on me.”

The other guy looked down from his level and grinned. “Suck it up, Jase! Move faster and I’ll miss you. How’s it going, Roman? Mrs. M looking after you?”

“Always, Jordan. Jason looking after you?”

“No, I have to look after him.”

“Nice work if you can get it.”

“Oh, he . . . no! We’re not going there. Get away home.”

“We’re doing that. See you Jason and Jordan.”

“Bye, Roman. Be good to your boy.”

“Always!” He got back in the car, around the corner and headed out of town.