Shin pads for stalks - Elaine Abery

Kechaw

Kedring

Boof

Booing

Bounce, Bounce. Bounce.

Smaller  & smaller.

“What ARE you doing?”

Wham

Whack

Whollop

The piece of wood flies out of his hand, across the lawn.

Whirr.

Clunk. Pause

Clunk

“Crap!”

A tall shadow hovers, moves, changes shape as it bends over, bum high in the air, shaped like a slightly wonky, A-framed house that has been worn down over the years.

“Boy!”

“I said by! Get yourself over here!”

“NOW!”

Elbows & knees go down, bum slightly up, as the boy pulls himself up off his stomach & starts crawl-crouching towards the noise.

The sound of the boy scuttling across the grass. His knees & elbows bend the blades of grass. His stomach grazes to tops, bent sides of the grass.

Finally, he rests. His face gazes upwards, ready.

A rock is thrust in his face. “What’s this then, boy?”

“Shield.”

“Shield?”

“Shield.”

“Your shield nearly broke my mower boy! What are you shielding?”

“The stalks.”

“Stalks?”

“Stalks.”

The shadow compresses & the voice lowers.

“Rightee. The ants & the stalks are fighting.”

“I can’t see no stalks. Rainbow lorikeets & those noisy bloody golds & cockies. Storks are closer to water bodies.”

“The ants are attacking the stalks. That’s their shields. They attack with these swords.” A toothpick is passed over.

“What did the stalks do to the ants to be attacked?"

ed?”