Out on the town

A figure approaches, slipping into the dark lane, cursing while regaining his balance. Sliding towards it, the man nudges its body with the tip of his pointed shoe. It hardly responds.

A Saturday night, a town so small this street doesn’t even have street lights, and me not sure of where I’m headed but wanting to get there as soon as possibleand with the least possible fuss.

It’s earlier that night with the party still in full swing and I can’t believe it but I’m hoping that Mickey will ask me to dance. The steaks and schnittys are still mainly half eaten, the old juke box in the corner is pumping out Bonnie Tyler and the freshly polished parquetry dance floor holds the promise of romance. Two of the boys are practising their break dancing, hilariously competing for attention as they spin, kick and jump. I’m sitting next to Tommy, who has scrubbed up like a prince for the night. I’ve got the job of watching how much he drinks tonight because apparently he can overdo it. We’re doing OK so far, just a couple of middies between us and he’s in fine form, telling me stories of the old days.

I feel a surge of impatience - mixed with uncertainty – as I look up at Mickey and then down at the shape at my feet. Now he’s standing so close I can smell him, an acrid mixture of sweat and whiskey breath and yes,definitely Old Spice aftershave. I crouch down next to the shape – it’s a dog! and I put my hand on its head. It’s breathing a bit too hard but it seems to be responding to my touch. Has it been skittled by a car? It’s hard to see any injuries but it’s so dark I can’t be sure.

“Where are you off to?” he demands. “I was looking for you!”

I ignore the accusation. The dog lifts her head slightly.She’s cold.

Tommy is Mickey’s uncle, up country for the mustering season, and more of an old gentleman I have yet to meet. I go out to the dance floor and jump around with the boys for a while. When I come back Mickey is sitting in Tommy’s seat and Tommy is up at the bar. ”Lost your boyfriend??” he says with a wink. I look at him blankly and then up at the bar where Tommy is polishing off a large glass of whiskey. How has this happened???

Mickey squats next to me “We can’t leave her here” he says softly.

“Why’s that?? You left Tommy at the bar!” I blurt out.

Mickey gently picks the dog up and we head back to the club where nearly all the lights are out. Tommy is snoring on an outside lounge.

“You can only do what you can only do” Mickey says quietly as he wraps our canine friend in an old blanket and sits her up next to Tommy. ”Let’s go and find her something to eat”.