Penguin Books Australia

Sugar Boy and me were getting ready to go fishing at Grenfell River. We got our rods and tackle fixed so that we could ride our bikes and carry things at the same time, then we headed down to Grenfell Park. Sugar rode in front of me and I watched his legs push up down up down, moving in time with a song that he was singing. Sugar always rode standing up – even downhill. I couldn't hear the words of the song properly, except for Ooh Mumma, which he sang louder than all the others whenever he got to them. The rods banged against my knees as I pedalled and the warm wind was in my face. The song of a butcherbird mixed in with Sugar's song. Butcherbird singing is like music from a pipe.

When we got to the park we threw down our bikes at the top of the track, untied our things and ran to the river. There was nobody else there, only Sugar Boy and me. We stood and looked at the caramel-coloured water, the white shining gums and the willow trees. A wagtail hopped between the branches of a wattle and two thrushes flew in and out and around each other. We climbed over to the rock, which was our fishing place. Long branches on both sides hid the rock, and made a willow cave that was big enough for both of us.

'I'm feeling lucky today, James Birdy Burdell, real lucky.' Sugar said the same thing every time he dropped his line into the water, even though he never caught anything.

After a while of not catching anything, Sugar said, 'I think the sun is too hot for fishing, Bird.'

'What do you mean?' I asked him. It was cool and shadowy in the willow cave.

'I think the sun makes the water too hot close to the surface, and the fish swim very deep to get away from it.'

'Do you reckon?' Grenfell River wasn't deep. It was hardly even flowing.

'That's what I think. That's why they're not biting ­ the water's too hot. Do you want to go down to the edge?'

'Yep.' We pulled in our lines, climbed off the rock and went down to the edge of the river. Sugar skimmed a stone and then I did.

'Go for ten skims,' said Sugar, looking for more stones.

'Easy.' Sugar got up to seven and I got to six and then we played cricket with sticks and hit mud balls into the river. Then we dropped the sticks and threw the mud balls at each other. We saw a leech go down a hole. Sugar was sure it was a leech. He told me how his dad once got so many leeches on his legs when he was working in New Guinea that he nearly ran out of blood and fainted and they had to give him extra with a drip. We filled the leech hole with mud. I kept hearing the chit chit chit of the wagtail all the time we were doing things. Chit chit chit, chit chit chit. The mud felt cool in between my toes at the same time as the sun was warm on my shoulders' and neck. I could hear frogs, and Sugar splashing behind me.

'Look over there,' Sugar Boy pointed to Ern Tippy fishing off the bank on the other side. We weren't the only living humans. Ern drank rum and coke from a can, smoked cigarettes and fished, with a radio playing the dog races. Ern's face was always red and he drank and drove. I know because Dad had to fix Ern's Holden after he ran into his own gate from drink driving. Ern's face had no mouth. You could only see that he did have one when he took a sip from his can of rum and coke.

I looked at Ern's red face sipping and I heard the buzz of the dogs running from his radio and then I thought of Mrs Naylor saying 'learn to behave'. I turned to Sugar. 'Want to steal his bait?' We'd never stolen anything before.

'Yep,' Sugar didn't say no much.

'We have to wait until he goes for another tinny.' Ern had an esky that he'd built into the passenger seat of his Holden. I knew from when it was at Dad's Auto Repairs. We climbed back to the, willow cave and watched him for a while from between the leaves. Soon he checked his watch, pulled in his line and wandered back up the track to his car.

'Come on, Sug, quick.' We went down to where the river was easiest to cross, and then slowly, bending low like two spies on a mission – the Enemies of Ern – we hopped from rock to rock to the other side. We crept along to his fishing box. We had to be quick, the car park was only a few minutes up the track and if he caught us he'd kill us. He'd put us in his Holden and crash us into his gate. Even though it was dangerous I wanted to laugh, and I could feel Sugar Boy wanting to laugh too, and I knew if that happened I'd laugh so much I'd roll down to the river and I wouldn't be able to stand up and run away from Ern.

I opened up the fishing box, pulled out Ern's sticky plastic bag of prawns, and grabbed a handful. Some slipped through the cracks between my fingers and dropped into the dirt. 'Sugar, take them,' I whispered to

Sugar, without looking at his face in case I saw the start of a laugh. As I put back the plastic bag of prawns I noticed two bright yellow new-looking flies in the fishing box.

'Go on, Bird, take them too.' Sugar nodded at me as he took the prawns from out of my hand. More dropped onto the dirt. I shoved the flies in my pocket, and we scrambled to the river just as we heard Ern coming back down the track with his radio blaring the dog races – Silver Rex is on the outside followed by Jaded Lady . . .

Back in our willow cave we let go of our laughs. Kookaburras, butcherbirds, wagtails and songlarks every­where heard us and joined in until the laughter and the singing of birds mixed to make one loud laughing-singing sound. Then the sound died away and it was just the soft:" swish swish of the willow leaves around us.