The back of Jack’s house was like many old weatherboard places that don’t get painted often enough. The creamy-white paint was curling and lifting from the edges of the weatherboards, and years of boys playing with various toys, balls, and other implements—innocent and not-so-innocent—had scuffed and damaged the patina so much that one wonders if …

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The rest of the week passed uneventfully, and by Saturday each of those who were in trouble were granted grace enough to get out of the house and go fishing again. Apparently the desire for fresh fish sometimes outweighed punishment, particularly in Jack’s mum’s case. She was having a dinner party and wanted to make …

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Bevan’s ride home was circuitous. He went via the lake near the town and had a cone and a think before he went home. Like Rick, he couldn’t stand getting back into normal life after a day’s fishing. But unlike Rick he didn’t want to hang around near the river, either, because he wanted to …

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All day Jack had been worrying about ditching school again to go fishing. His mum had really got shitty with him last time he did and had vowed to severely curtail his extracurricular activities if he didn’t start taking his responsibilities seriously. School bored Jack, and it was all he could manage just to get …

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Bevan left before Rick did, as usual. Rick liked to spend time by himself down at the river. While he liked to think of it as his own meditative, religious experience, he didn’t class himself as a spiritual sort of person. Well, not much. The tranquillity of the place made him feel peaceful, though, and …

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