Now that he was proper sparked up, a bit drunk, Milton wanted to be where it was quieter. Maybe with his brothers and that, playing cards. He stepped out of the bright whirl of laughter and shouts, eyes and teeth, sweaty bodies cold glass beer smells. He stepped out of the Spinifex Hotel and into a dark shower of gravel as a car, wheels spinning and motor snarling, was launched from the car park.
Not far to walk. With his tax cheque this year he might buy a car, maybe that one from Alex. Maybe a bigger one. Drive around Karnama, in the bush, pushing trees over. Get those girls looking at him. Those schoolgirls, those cheeky ones.
He jumped a small fence and walked toward the goal posts gleaming in the moonlight on the far side of the oval. It quiet now. Night-time. This was not his country. Maybe he’d go back and sit with those others under that tree opposite the Spinny. Mad bastards them though. Be fighting soon enough, and that Veronica make a man walk like a duck. True.
Could be ghosts here, on this oval. Quiet night like this. The hiss of cars on bitumen came to him from the far side of the oval. He headed for where the headlights probed under the streetlights there, and felt much relieved to climb the fence onto the path. Safer.
He saw the snake in front of him. King Brown, at night even, just up a bit and looking right at him. His heart loud and fast and he meant to take a stick and kill it there. But it waited. It waited. It watched him. He knew it. This is not a snake this is a man. He could see it, you know. It was waiting for someone and it had a man’s eyes. Just quiet and proper deadly.
Milton stepped sideways onto the road and walked wide around it.
He walked on the side of the road for a long time, looking back where the snake was still waiting, still watching. A car came along and he stepped back onto the path. He was near the Boab Inn now, and he saw some people drinking in that little quiet park opposite. He told them what had happened and they all shot off to his cousin’s house down past the army place.
Milton fell asleep inside the house later that night and when he awoke it was light. People sitting on the steps drinking from cans. No one fighting. They was just happy. Someone had a ute, and Milton drove to visit another mob with some cartons and some people in the back.
They just did some drinking, talking, some watched a video.
Milton sat outside, resting his back against the wall. An old man walked over and sat down next to him.
He said sideways to Milton, ‘Thanks for not killin’ me.’ Milton nearly laughed. He didn’t know what he was saying. Maybe he was joking. But then he saw the man’s eyes. They were like the snake.