Blacky Blasts Back by Barry Jonsberg

amazed.
    â€˜Then why hasn’t he learned the language?’
    Phil laughed.
    â€˜They speak English in Scotland, mate,’ he said. ‘Just not as we know it. If you think this is bad, you should have heard him thirty years ago. Compared to that, he’s positively ocker now.’
    â€˜He called us jessies and big girls’ blouses. What’s that mean?’
    â€˜Sooks. But don’t mind Jimmy. He insults everyone. It’s just the way he is. But he is tough. Ex SAS . Hard as nails. For all that, he’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. A top bloke. Now, mate. To quote Jimmy, quit bumpin’ yer gums – stop chatting – and help get the barbie ready.’
    There were snags. There were fat steaks. There were onions. And, for Phil and me, there were vegie burgers. Once the hotplate was sizzling, we slapped on the food and the delicious smell of barbecuing filled the clearing. I was impressed. I didn’t know about the other kids in the special boys unit, but I did know Dyl and me. Give us two bits of bread and a slice of cheese and we’d have struggled to make a sandwich. But here we were, getting up a hearty feed for ten.
    â€˜Make that eleven, mush,’ came a voice in my head.
    I paused in my stirring of the fried onions.
    â€˜Blacky!’ I said silently. ‘I was worried. Where are you?’
    I’d heard nothing from the grumpy hound since early that morning. He’d kept a low profile. It was so cold I was concerned for his safety. It’s not like he’s got a thick coat. I’d pictured him somewhere out in the bush, half-frozen, half-starving. Huddled under a tree, keeping warm by burrowing under fallen leaves. This was hostile territory. And he’s not a big dog. I almost got a tear in my eye thinking about it.
    â€˜You can save your sympathy, bucko,’ said Blacky. ‘I’ve commandeered one of those empty huts as my headquarters. I’m already planning the next stage of the mission.’
    Okay. Forget the huddling under a tree. But it was still freezing, even inside our dormitory.
    â€˜You must be cold, though, Blacky.’
    â€˜I also commandeered a sleeping-bag from the stores. Two, actually. Down-filled. The finest the military makes. If anything, mush, I’m too warm.’
    My concern was dwindling. From the sound of it, he was much more comfortable than me. Then I thought about food. That must be a problem. I mean, it’s not as if he was able to bring an esky with him.
    â€˜But you’re starving, right?’ I asked.
    â€˜Not exactly starving , tosh. I also commandeered a couple of kilos of dried beef.’
    I started to stir the onions again. Here I was, worried about the foul-smelling mutt, and he was living in the lap of luxury. For all I knew, he’d commandeered cable TV , a heated indoor swimming pool and a laptop with high-speed internet connection. I had visions of a butler bringing him a cooked breakfast and the morning newspaper while someone else gave him a pedicure.
    â€˜Well, you can forget sharing our food, Blacky,’ I said. ‘By the sound of it, you’re roughing it in five-star conditions.’
    â€˜Be fair, mush. I am the brains of this operation. And all I’m asking is a bit of warm food.’
    I sighed. ‘All right, Blacky, I’ll see what I can do.’
    â€˜With onions, but no sauce. Make it two snags. Oh, and a steak. Medium rare.’
    â€˜Absolutely, sir,’ I said. ‘Can we interest you in an entree? Wine list? And what about hearing our specials tonight?’
    â€˜Oi, tosh,’ said Blacky in an offended tone. ‘There’s no need for sarcasm.’ There was a pause. ‘Do you have any entrees?’
    Dinner was a great success, despite the fact that we burned nearly everything. It wasn’t so much meat and vegie burgers as charcoal. But everyone was starving and we ate the lot. I stashed a couple of