Chapter Three

Anyway, the whole thing, the trip, grew from there. We made this casual decision to do it, and we immediately let ourselves in for a lot of hard work. The first job was to persuade our mums and dads to let us go. It's not that they don't trust us, but as Dad said, "It's a pretty big ask". They spent a lot of time saying no, but trying to talk us into other things instead. That's the way most operate I think. They don't like to start a fight so they suggest alternatives that they think we can say yes to and they hope you might say yes to. "Why don't you go down the river again?"

  "Why don't you ask Robyn and Meriam instead of the boys?"

  "Why don't you just take bikes? Or even horses? Make it a real old-fashioned campout. That'd be fun."

  Mum's idea of fun was making jam for the preserves section of the Wirrawee Show, so she was hardly an authority on the subject. I feel a bit odd, writing things like that, considering what we've all been through, but I'm going to be honest, not mushy.

  Finally we came to an agreement, and it wasn't too bad, considering. We could take the Landrover but I was the only one allowed to drive it, even though Kevin had his P's and I didn't. But Dad knows I'm a good driver. We could go to the top of Tailor's Stich. We could invite the boys but we had to have more people: at least six and up to eight. That was because Mum and Dad thought there was less chance of an orgy if there were more people. Not that they'd admit that was the reason - they said it was to do with safety - but I know them too well.

  And yes, I've written that 'o' in 'know' carefully - I wouldn't want it to be confused with an 'e'

  We had to promise not to take grog(weed) and smokes, and we had to promise that the boys wouldn't. It made me wonder about the way adults turn growing up into such a complicated process. They expect you to be always on the lookout for a chance to do something wild. Sometimes they even put ideas in your head. I don't think we would bothered to take any grog (weed) or smoke anyway. Too expensive, for one thing - we were all pretty broke after Christmas. But the funny thing is that when our parents thought we were doing something wild we never were, and when they thought we were being innocent we were usually up to something. They never gave me  hard time about the school play rehearsals for instance, but I spent all my time there with Steve, undoing each other's buttons and buckles, then frantically doing them up again when Mr Kassar started bellowing. "Steve! Ellie! Are they at it again? Someone get me a crowbar!"

  Very humorous guy, Mr Kassar.

  We ended up with a list of eight, counting us. We didn't ask Elliot, because he's so lazy, or Meriam, because she was doing work experience with Fi's parents. But five minutes after we made the list, one of the boys on it, Chris Lang, turned up at my place with his dad. So we immediately put the question to them. Mr Lang's a big guy who always wear a tie, no matter where he is or what he's doing. He seems kind of heavy and serious to me. Chris says his father was born on the corner of Straight and Narrow, and that sums it up. When his dad's around, Chris stays pretty quiet. But we asked them as they sat at our kitchen table, pigging out on Mum's date scones, and we got knocked back in one sentence. It turned out that Mr and Mrs lang were going overseas, and even though that had worker, Chris had to stay home and keep an eye on the place. So that was a bad start to our plans.

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