Drowning in Her Eyes by Patrick Ford

listened to the boasts of his schoo l mates and realised none of them knew what they were tal k ing about. He was content to leave things until he was home again. However, Amy frequently came to him, at night, in his dreams.
    His reply from the Army came soon enough. He exa m ined the enclosed application form and began to fill it out. To his chagrin, he discovered that he had to get his parents to sign the section giving their permission for him to join the army. Legal majority did not occur until the age of twenty- one in Australia. Bugger it, he thought, I won ’t be twenty- one for nearly three years; I ’m sure Paddy won ’t sign this. Nonetheless, he filled out the application and carefully put it away. Maybe his parents would change their minds.
    The train left Sydney in the long twilight of a late N o vember day. It was a smooth ride up the coast and over the spectacular bridge on the Hawkesbury River. At Gosford, the electric lines terminated, and the passengers gnawed at rock- hard meat pies and curling sandwiches while they drank stewed tea in the quaintly named Railway Refreshment Rooms . Outside, with much puffing and wheezing, the steam loco coupled up to the train for the northward journey. Jack was thankful it was summer, for the cold was fearful along the ranges in winter in the unheated passenger carriages. He was jubilant to have finished school at last. He would never visit Sydney, Australia ’s most vibrant city, as a schoolboy again . I n a few months, he would be eighteen, have a driving license, and be ready to take on the world.
    He climbed into his sleeper bunk . T he clickety- clack of the wheels over the rail joints and the gentle swaying of the train soon lulled him to sleep.
    Just before dawn, the train stopped south of Narrabri, running onto a switching track to make space for the sout h bound train to pass by. Jack woke about this time and climbed from his bunk, dressed, and made his way to the open platform at the end of his carriage. It was a beautiful morning. There was no sound but the gentle clinking of some metal parts as they cooled, and a faint hiss of steam from the locomotive, far away at the head of the train. All around the train, the country stretched, prairie- like, for miles covered with sweet native grass es . He heard some kookabu r ras bring the world to life with their raucous, laughing calls. M agpies and butcherbirds , in a breathtaking bush symphony , joined them . Far across the plain, a larg e mob of sheep grazed in peace.
    English poets waxed lyrical about their pastoral scenes, but this is as good as it gets , thought Jack. A sudden rush of love for his country struck him. He knew it could be cruel, but it could be bountiful and kind too. He vowed that not h ing would ever break this bond.
    The southbound train shrieked by, the air displaced by its forward movement rattling and buffeting the stationary carriages. Soon they were moving again, heading for the end of the line, the town of Moree. There Jack would take a strange little rail motor to his final destination, Goondiwindi.
    Some boys from his school were on the train, along with boys from other schools in Sydney. They all knew each ot h er, having ridden these rails for four years. They had played rugby and cricket with and against each other. Now bound in the brotherhood of young men about to enter a new world, they had much to talk about and they all wanted to talk about sex. Some of the boys were already smoking cigarettes. One of them started talking about a new cigarette, made not from tobacco, but from the leaves of a plant called maryjuana or something like that. It was supposed to send you into a dreamlike state, very pleasurable. Jack was not interested. He had tried one of Ollie ’s cigarettes and wondered why a n yone would waste their money on such foul tasting things.
    * * * *
    Paddy and Helen were waiting for him at the station. Paddy had a new Land Rover with a metal roof and