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Boy Out of the Country
Felix Nobis
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eBook - ePub
Boy Out of the Country
Felix Nobis
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About This Book
Written in Australian poetic vernacular, Boy Out of the Country tells a story of land, family and belonging. %##CHAR13##%%##CHAR13##%A family property, worthless for generations, is suddenly zoned as part of a regional housing estate to accommodate an ever-increasing urban sprawl. At this moment of shifting economies and loyalties, Hunter returns from a seven-year absence. Finding his boyhood house boarded up and his mother in a retirement home, Hunter goes in search of answers. And he starts with his brother Gordon.
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ACT ONE
SCENE ONE
A country police station.
GORDON enters, holding a handkerchief to his busted eye. He is followed immediately by HUNTER and then SERGEANT WALKER. An argument is in full swing.
GORDON: Why?!
HUNTER: What dâya mean / âWhyâ?
WALKER: / Oh, for Godâs sake, Hunter. Why?!
HUNTER: Why not ask why Gordon keeps his mother in a cupboard?
GORDON: Why not ask why Hunter, after seven years of silence wants toâ
HUNTER: Why not ask why Gordonâ? And it wasnât even sevenâ
GORDON: After seven solid years of total silenceâ
HUNTER: Wants to lock up his poor mother,
And I sent a dozen postcards.
GORDON: Not to me!
HUNTER: No, not to you!
As if Iâd send a fucking postcard to you, ya dumb shit!
GORDON: Simply turns up out of nowhere, and [touching his eye] ouch! Jesus!
HUNTER: Have you seen this place?
WALKER: No.
HUNTER: Itâs a refrigerator. Dirty lino on the floorâ
WALKER: Althoughâ
HUNTER: Itâs cold, dark, small, itâs pretty much a Kelvinator.
WALKER: Thoughâ
HUNTER: The difference is no light goes on, when you open up the door!
WALKER: Althoughâ
GORDON: Iâll have you know, she chose it, and sheâs happy there!
WALKER: Iâve heardâ
GORDON: It costs, I donât mind sayingâ
HUNTER: Gordon, I donât want to hear!
GORDON: Well, youâre not paying it!
It costs almost thirty grand a year!
HUNTER: As if you pay, As if you pay!
WALKER: Hey, hey, hey, hey,
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Silence.
Now, both of yuz ⊠Just ⊠Both of yuz, just âŠ
Both sit down!
The amount of times Iâve pulled you both apart like dogs in the street,
Your poor mother!
If you have no respect for yourselves âŠ
Your poor mother!
I get a phone call from the Golden Crown, âThe Smeaton boys are back at itâ.
How long have the pair of ya been back in the same town, eh?
âThe Smeaton boys are back at it!â
I remember your old man, dragginâ the pair of yuz,
Kickinâ and screaminâ, by your torn school clothes,
Your poor mother was crying,
And two of yuz tryinâ to kill each other,
Throws ya down and gets the garden hose.
And donât go thinkinâ, for a moment, t...