Week 21 CLUB 281 words Obligatory membership Joash hated the club. It was all his parents talked about all week. Dad coached the seniors and Mum ran the canteen. Sundays were an almost sacred ritual of early rising for the dusty drive into town to the brown grass and dirt oval and the nondescript collection of buildings that housed the clubrooms. Years ago Joash had stopped mentioning the squarmy churning in his stomach as he pulled on his jersey and boots. Mum and Dad seemed to assume he’d grown out of his dislike of the game and his problems with some of the other boys. But he hated the game. His stomach still churned as badly today as where he was a five-year old. From his position on the field, he could sense Mum and Dad chatting animatedly. Dad would be tipping back his broad brimmed hat and laughing at a neighbour’s rueful joke about the latest unfortunate hopeful jackeroo, he’d employed. Mum would be smoothing her apron and organising her helpers to produce home baked smoko treats and tasty lunches always right on time. At least while he was playing he was relatively safe from Billy’s taunts and Jacko’s threats. At least on the field, he had speed on his side. But there was nowhere to hide once the game was over. He dreaded the testosterone charged change room, the ribald laughter, the shoving and pushing. He wished he could teleport to the peaceful waterhole near his homestead where he had spent hours sketching fashion designs from his mum’s magazines. He wanted the season to be over. This time next year he’d be in the city and he’d find his own tribe. Goodbye club and good riddance! (c) Renee Hills
Posted on: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 23:11:35 +0000
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