Bunny Carries On

Selby did quite nicely for himself on the north face of Mount Potty. He went under the radar, which is just the way he likes it.

“Oh it still gives me the shits, after a life time spent in a country town,” said Selby. “Mrs What’s-her-name, or Mrs who’s-me-bob, or Mrs Nanoonook says hello to you at the local and you are supposed to remember what the bitches name is.”

“You should have been a diplomat, Selby honey,” said Bunny.

“Instant recall that is what they demand, or Mrs What’s-Her-Face, from the dry cleaner gets shitty unbeknownst to me because I take my shirts in their and I didn’t instantly recognise who she was. She gets her nose out of joint and she is still snubbing me at the county fare six months after I have forgotten the incident.”

Bunny tried to give one of her knowing looks.

He’s been overlooked for a decade, the local hooch house. You could drive up the back of the house on the circular drive way. You’d head in the back door, where there was a counter of sorts, like a closed in back veranda, Selby had what you wanted in a tin box, ready for you to pick up.

“Don’t forget to call first.”

All nice and out of sight. That was until it was found out that young Daniel Pickering was paying for his pot with his arse, and Senior Sargent Pickering, his father, was furious. But he didn’t want it broadcast widely that young Daniel was a pillow biter, so he kept it quiet. But someone told Kylie Kloppers and she told whoever would listen, until her mother started keeping her home. Everyone was shocked, of course, and nobody really believed it. People were more shocked that someone amongst them was capable of making up such obvious lies about an upstanding member of their community.

Suspicion fell on Kylie and her, shall we say, “problems.”

Truth be known, young Daniel was a keen bottom, he’d head to the big smoke for it on Saturday night, and a keen pothead, from all accounts. He needed the pot for the Saturday night jaunts. He couldn’t function really well unmedicated, on a daily basis, so some said.

“I can,” said Daniel. He sounded anxious. “I just chose not to, the day is much nicer on it.”

He thought nothing about paying for his pot supply via his well developed nether regions. As it turned out, FayAnne had lost interest in sex pretty much. “Three long, hard bongs, and I don’t really care what I stick it into,” admitted Selby to Daniel. And the boy’s got muscles and real stamina, he can take as good as any drunk chick I’ve had down the back of Robbos. And he really seems to like it. It just feels tight and warm to me.

Selby and Daniel’s sex became more passionate. “He’s athletic, he really likes it, and I can bend him any way I fucken like,” said Selby. “He’s wet and he’s smooth. I first thought about Beyonce, sucking her snatch, but now the little monkey has got my full attention.

If the town only knew the truth.

One of the town’s favourite sons, is taking it up the arse enthusiastically from the resident hippy, old enough to be his father, to procure his pot supply, so he can keep up the pretence of fucking the prom queen, Angelic Maddern, the mayor’s daughter, so the community don’t catch on that he is secretly a queer. After Kylie Kloppers scandal, Angelica came out and publically stated that Daniel was a very normal functioning boy. Which shocked some of the old cadavers, as Bunny used to like calling them. To counter her relaxed liberal attitudes, the conservative “powers that be” questioned how many boys had Angelic had to know to know how a normal functioning boy functioned. They basically called her a slut, and it stuck to some degree.

“That girl advertised her sex life all over town,” said Mrs Gafoops, or Mrs What’s her Name, or Mrs WhoosyWhatsit down at the RiteWay.

“The moment I look backwards, kill me,” Bunny used to say. She says it is the result of 2 sentimental parent’s who never looked forward. “Everything was be’a back ‘ome.”

“That’s my Kylie Kloppers impersonation.”

“You’re awful Bunny.”

“It’s a dead spit.”

Their entire lives, a country they left was better that the one in which they spent most of their lives. I don’t want to be like that.



Selby put a fresh pot of tea and a fresh plate of biscuits down on the table in front of both their chairs.

“You’ve always rolled the best splifs, Selby,” said Bunny. “It is a real talent.”

“Why thank you Miss Bunny.”

“You are welcome, kind sir.” Bunny chuckled. “Even if you do make me sound like a madam when you call me that.”

“So what have you done to yourself?”

“Oh, it is so embarrassing, I fell down in the street, for the first time. Tripped and fell.”

“Truly, the first time?” Selby had his compassionate face on. Gruff private Selby, people didn’t get to see the sweet side of him.

“Yes, numero uno. It was a first for me. It happened so quick.”

“You sure.”

“Oh yes, absolutely sure, darl. I tripped. If I was blacking out all over the place, I’d be the first to do something about it.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, fine, except for the knee,” said Bunny. “It feels like it is buggered. I’ve spent all morning with doctors who can only really offer a pill and It-will-get-better-with-time speech.”

“Doctors.” Selby cursed.

“I don’t know why I bother with western medicine,” said Bunny.

“You should have come straight here.”

“I should have just come straight here.”

“I’ll play mother?” asked Selby.

“Yes, do.”



Another car stops on the gravel out the front of the house. A car door closes. Footsteps approach crunching on the gravel. A handsome young man arrives, who Bunny doesn’t recognise, at first.

“Selby?”

“Oh, well, hello.”

“I thought I saw another car in the drive.” Daniel looked at Selby, Bunny was sure, apologetically. Bunny wasn’t to know that was one of Selby and Daniel’s signs, if there was another car in the drive way, do not come in.

“Yes, indeed,” said Selby. “This is a curious time, to be frank.”

“I’m sorry,” said the young man. “Mrs Robertson.” He nodded and smiled in Bunny’s direction. It wasn’t until he addressed Bunny directly that she realised who the young man was. Daniel looked back at Selby. “It is just that I…”

“What?” said Selby.

“Need…”

“It is just not a good time.”

“Oh.” Daniel was unsure what to do next, as though he had never been denied before. He rocked backwards and forwards on his feet. “Maybe, later… then?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” said Selby. Selby sounded needlessly gruff.

Daniel retreated backwards, slowly out of sight back down the gravel path from where he came. As if in slow motion.

Bunny looked back at Selby.

“Excuse me,” said Selby. He got up and disappeared into the house. He was gone for a while, Bunny sipped her tea. Then she heard voices in the car park.

Selby appeared back along the garden path.

“I thought you went into the house?”

“Oh… er… um…” Selby stumbled over his words. “Everyone is in need… what can you do?” Selby sat down heavily next to Bunny. He picked up a joint from the table. “Now where were we?” Selby dangled the joint in the air.

“Oh I shouldn’t…”

“So that is a no?”

“No,” said Bunny. Selby looked confused. “That is a yes.”

“Double negative,” said Selby. “That’s my girl.”

“Good thing old Bestsy knows her own way back down the mountain, that’s all I can say.”

“It seemed hardly fare to let the lad go without when we had plenty.”

She was not really that interested in Daniel, or what he was doing there, except Selby continued to bring it up. She’d heard the whispers, but it had only been whispers, and she’d heard so little that sounded like fact. Kylie drivelling on does not a truth make. But suddenly Bunny felt as though she had seen the duck walk, and she’d heard the duck talk. She giggled to herself at the analogy. She looked at Selby, she wanted to say, Selby Gillup you old dog, you have been ducking that boy. She giggled some more.

“What?” coughed Selby as he exhaled the marijuana smoke.

“Nothing,” giggled Bunny.

Bunny asked for no explanation, even after Selby disappeared after Daniel so obviously, Bunny still wasn’t bothered. He kept giving me answers to questions Bunny never asked, it has to get a girl’s attention, eventually.

Selby hands Bunny the joint.

“So, it is true?”

“What?” Selby asked casually. He had no idea what was true.

Bunny sucked on the joint. “You and the boy.” Bunny sucked on the joint again. “Daniel.” Bunny sucked on the joint again. “Just now.” Carl had taught her to take three tokes. That was after he resisted for the longest time, saying split smoking was man’s business. He finally relented, when he saw her less than proficient efforts. And he taught her how to ‘Smoke a joint properly,’ as Carl always said.

“What?” Selby repeated. Not casual this time, on guard, shields had been raised.

“This is good smoke,” said Bunny. “It doesn’t catch in my throat.”

“Papua New Guinea Gold,” said Selby suspiciously. “The best that is around at the moment. Grown in the tropics, on a north facing hill of virgin forest, digested and defecated by possums every last bud of it.”

The sun was warm. Bunny passed the joint back to Selby.

“You got away with it?”

“Got away with what, Mrs R?” Oh, ah, face. “Bunny.”

“You beat them at their own game?”

“Who? Beat them at what?”

“The grape vine, the gossip mill, the Chinese whispers, the back fence… you beat it. You took them on and won!”

“You better ease up on the hooch, old girl.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it is with sheer admiration that I speak these words.”

“You’ve always been an odd bird, Bunny.”

Bunny sucked on the last of the joint. She and Selby were odd birds together, that was for sure. Selby always gave her something no one else gave her, a part from the obvious, a big does of reality.

“That boy, I saw how he looked at you.”

Suck two.

“I saw with my own eyes.”

Suck three. She handed it back to Selby.

“I don’t need you to tell me,” said Bunny. The smoked burned for the first time in Bunny’s lungs, she had to let it out. Carl and his-hold-it-in-as-long-as-you-can business be buggered.

A cloud of smoke materialised between them and danced in the sun’s rays like a fine, sheer curtain.

Selby sucked on what was left of the joint, as though his life depended on it at that moment. He looked at the roach, and discarded it after some thought.

“Jees Mrs R… I… I… don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” The joint was hitting, Bunny was feeling very grand. Her knee had stopped hurting. “Just stop and reflect that you beat them all,” said Bunny. “I didn’t believe it, not for a minute. Really, nobody did.”

“You see he’s Pickerings kid,” said Selby. “So he kept it all hushed up.”

This was new information that Bunny had never heard before, an admission, of sorts. “He looks man enough to me,” said Bunny. “What was the fuss about?”

Selby opened and closed his mouth.

“He drove up. He’s an adult. He has to make his own decisions as much as anybody else.”

“This has been going on for sometime.”

“Still going on?” asked Bunny.

Selby nodded ever so slightly.

So it was true.

Selby lit another joint.

“I’ll have to be calling Carl to come and get me, again.”

“So is that a no?” said Selby exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“No,” said Bunny. They both laughed. She took the hand rolled cigarette from Selby’s hand.

Bunny felt as thought the topic had been changed. The conversation stumbled.

“How long have I known you now, Mrs R?” It was a cold start line, something to say as you pass the joint.

“How old are you?” asked Bunny.

“40 years.”

“I’ve known you for 40 years,” said Bunny. “I never forget your mother changing you on the bar at the Horse’s Head. The whole bar saw your doodle that day.”

“I didn’t think I was that old.”

“I hope it grew.”

“Mrs R!”

Bunny broke out laughing, she had amused herself.

“You’re just lucky it wasn’t in the day of the phone camera, you’d have been an internet… er… thingy.”

“Sensation.”

“Sensation,” said Bunny. She was still giggling.

“Down Barry Baxter’s.”

The smile disappeared from Bunny’s face, she slapped Selby. “You mustn’t say that.”

Selby laughed. “Every boy knew Barry Baxter fiddled with boys. Some boys went down there to get fiddled with.”

“You want to do what you want to do wherever you want to do it, with whoever you want to do it with, nothing blows my hair back honey… but as an adult. No grey area.”

“Are you ever surprised at the things you do?”

“Not really,” said Bunny.

“The things we’ve do… done,” slurred Selby.

“The things we’ve done,” repeated Bunny. Tell me the things you’ve done, she thought. After she’d said it, she thought it was too pointed but she resisted the urge to correct it.

“The things we’ve done,” said Selby. “The things we’ve done. But if it is not hurting anyone, what can be the harm?”

Bunny murmured in agreement.

“Sometimes it is just two people discovering…” Bunny handed Selby the joint and effectively distracted the flow of the conversation. Bunny scolded herself for interrupting.

Selby took the joint. Silence, except for Selby’s raspy inhale.

The two friends sat on the deck of the cottage on the north face of Mount Potty, goon-faced, staring out to the undulating paddocks.

“Do you call those Dalmatian Cows?” Bunny laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks.

Bunny fumbled down beside herself for the longest time. She didn’t really want to move, she couldn’t really move, she was too comfortable to adjust her position at all, so her fingers fumbled in her bag for a time even she felt was too long. Then her fingers grasped the metal tin. She pulled the tin up to her face. She flipped the lid open. She turned to Selby.

“Mint?”

Bunny always carried a blue tin of Eclipse sugarless mints in her handbag, for occasions such as this.

“Thanks.”