More Than A Journey Home

Chapter Two - Second Discovery

The faint smell of roasted coffee titillates Mason’s nostrils. He believes he must be dreaming; his mouth watering with the thought of a tall black with one sugar. His back is aching like a bitch from the hard wooden slats of the bench and the fact that it wasn’t long enough to accommodate his impressive frame. Somehow the duffle bag fell to the floor during the night, which explains why his neck feels like it has set in rigour mortis. Slowly, he unravels his long limbs, groaning from the movement and the sudden rush of awareness of where he is and what he is here for.

“Doubt you slept well last night on that old thing,” comes a gruff voice that has Mason standing up abruptly, heart pounding from the unexpected sound of another human voice. At the bottom of the stairs stands a familiar figure that has aged significantly since the last time Mason saw Bryce Willcott, long-time neighbour and discoverer of the now deceased Mr and Mrs CoalBriar. He is not as tall as Mason, but he wasn’t far off’ ‘however, there is now a slightly stooped appearance to his frame, his hair is thinner and more grey than it used to be and he seems to have lost the “built like a brick shit house” tag he used to wear with pride. In his hands, he holds two steaming mugs of coffee that have Mason’s mouth doing cartwheels. It wasn’t just a dream after all. “Thought you could do with a strong brew”, says Bryce, “haven’t been game to venture inside yet, huh, not that I can blame ya”

Reaching out for the pro offered coffee, Mason sits down on the uppermost stair thanking Bryce for the coffee and offering him a seat. Bryce lowers his old bones down slowly, stiffness from years of hard farm work obviously catching up with him, glaring out at the rising sun as it begins its ascent in earnest and no doubt bringing with it another stinking hot day. Bryce is your typical Aussie bloke; there are no airs and graces about him. What you see and hear is what you get. He was one of the dutiful heirs of the land. Just like Mason’s father, Bryce inherited his cattle property from his father and took it on with courage and enthusiasm to ensure that he wasn’t letting his family legacy down. He and Thomas CoalBriar had had the same visions for their stations, and you could call them friends of a sort. If Thomas could ever attain a person as a friend. They had had their share of arguments over the years. However, Thomas and Bryce always had each other's backs when the chips were down and one was facing a struggle, which happened often on a farming property.

Mason can’t imagine how Bryce must have felt walking into this very house and finding his friend dead, alongside his wife. How could he possibly sit here ever again? It makes Mason shudder, and Bryce looks over at him with a sad smile. “It’s a godawful thing that’s happened here, son. I would have done more to help if I had known what was going on I promise you that. You know how your father was, independent, headstrong, and once he got his knickers in a knot over something, well that was that. And he seemed to have his knickers in one hell of a knot for quite some time. But we were neighbours, and neighbours help neighbours, not find them shot up in their bloody bedroom. Sorry, terrible choice of words”.

A heavy silence settles over them both while they sip their coffee, lost in their own thoughts, staring out at the vast property before them. Mason surmises Bryce knows a lot more than he’s letting on, but for whatever reason, he is not opening up about it for now. Bryce must not think much of Mason. Mason left. Left his parents to start a new life, a life he wanted, not an obligation to a future that he had no interest in living. Mason can still see the heartbreak and disappointment in his mother’s eyes when she realised he meant it when he said he was leaving and never returning. The hate on his father’s face, the disbelief and the rage. Mason can remember the glass juice pitcher sailing through the air, half full and hurtling quickly towards the kitchen wall. The smashing, tinkling sound of glass breaking and the splashing noise of the liquid as it hit the floor and continued to run down the wall. The shriek his mother made and the thunderous way his father approached him, finger pointing in Mason’s face. “You ungrateful son of a bitch”, Thomas screamed; You pathetic piece of shit! How dare you walk away from everything I have built here, and your grandparents before me. Do you know how lucky you are to have such an inheritance? It makes me sick. You are no son of mine; you are nothing but a worthless waste of time and energy. Such a disappointment to your mother and I. Get out, get out of this house and never come back, you hear me!!! Thomas yelled as Mason’s mum, Beth, sobbed uncontrollably, cowering by the kitchen sink, praying that Thomas would not strike out at his only child as he had done so many times before.

Mason drains his coffee mug and hands it back to Bryce. “I appreciate the coffee more than you could know”, he says. “And I really am sorry that you” his breath catches on the words “found my parents that way” “Your mother adored you” Bryce says, his rough, well-worn hands lined with age and bearing years of ingrained dirt, grasps the coffee cups tight. “Your father, not so much. You two never really did get along. Thomas had plans for you the moment your mother birthed ya. All he ever wanted was a boy. A boy to take over this place one day. But you know all that. What you don’t know, and what I want you to know, is that I get it. I understand why you didn’t want to take all this on. It’s not for everyone. And your father browbeat you about it since you first drew breath and his expectations were high. I told him it would drive you away, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Couldn’t even concede that a son of his might want something different out of life. But I understand, I just want you to know that”, says Bryce. He rises from the stairs and pats Mason on the shoulder. “Come on over yonder when you get hungry, I’ll make you some grub” and with that Bryce starts down the stairs and heads towards his four wheel drive. As the car turns over and begins to move off, Bryce waves goodbye to Mason, a sad and tired look in his eyes.

“Well. That’s a start I guess” thinks Mason and the thought of food is too much for him to ignore. He needs to find the keys to his father’s ute so he can go and grab himself something to eat, and he will need some supplies. This means he’s going to have to enter the house to find said keys. Whatever lies on the other side of the lopsided door needs to be faced; he needs to stop putting it off. The longer he does, the longer his stay here will be. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, Mason heads over to the broken front door and steps into the past and what for now is his immediate future.