MINDLESS MUSINGS

Wayne, Rodney and I were walking across the road from Two Shores Caravan Park at The Entrance to the beach. Our mission was to find wood so that we could have a bonfire and invite all the other youngsters for a gathering. It was going to be so cool!

As soon as our feet hit the sand Rodney puts up his finger and cries “ding!” Wayne and I both look at him in anticipation of his revelation. “Ding” he cries again. He points to a two story timber frame of a house under construction on the beach.

“Construction site” he says “Equals timber” he says.

Wayne and I agreed that this was a fantastic idea and the three of us headed over to the construction site. The sun had just gone down, so light was scarce, but we could see enough to follow a path through the rough deadwood-like growth that grew around the dunes of the beach. To walk through it is a painful experience (don’t get ahead of me).

We casually entered the structure and prowled around looking for this elusive timber. We found none on the ground floor so we headed upstairs via a ladder in the centre of the house. We split up on the second floor and continued our search.

When the first thump sounded I had no idea what it was, but another came in quick succession; then another. I heard Wayne scream “they’re throwing bricks!” as he whooshed past me. I had no idea where Rodney was.

“Get the fuck out of here!” was the cry from the unknown person or persons hurling the bricks.

It was clear that there were one or more people at ground level who were protecting the site from thieves…and we were the thieves!

I was desperately trying to find the ladder, but in my panicked state, and in the dark, I was having no luck. I gave up my quest and headed toward the beachside where we had initially entered. The brick hurlers were positioned on the roadside of the structure and my main focus was on getting away from them.

I got to the edge of the house on the second story and stopped. I am amazed how little effort was required to get me to jump off onto the sand. I had two choices: risk getting branded by a projectile brick or jump. I quickly chose the latter and was down on the sand still hearing bricks landing above and far off cries of abuse as I stumbled to my feet.

I could not find the path, so I had no choice but to run through the deadwood growth. I didn’t register the pain; I put that down to the extreme amount of adrenaline running through my system (it definitely hurt later). At this stage I still had no idea where Wayne or Rodney were, I was just focused on getting to the sand and back to Two Shores for sanctuary.

I made it to the sand and found Wayne and Rodney pacing in exasperation and exhaustion. I joined this confused pair and did my own back and forth for a few moments.  We all silently agreed to hustle back to the caravan park with our tails firmly planted between our legs.

Upon arrival Wayne and I both turned to Rodney and almost in sync said “Ding! Great fucken idea! Ding!”

There was no bonfire that night, but there was an awesome tale of our death defying escape from the house frame of doom.