Fire And The Redhead. (Part One)
This is part One of a novella loosely based on my experiences in the early 1970's and continues on from my 'Carol and Gwenda' stories which were based in Australia. Like all my characters they were real people, but I've changed names and some places accordingly.
Once again I would appreciate feedback comments and please rate the story if you feel so inclined. I have found comments especially helpful with regards to my direction as an author.
The city where I was living was a small one with a population of 28 thousand and approximately the same again in the surrounding rural areas.
I had just turned 19 and was employed at a local timber mill having just moved to the city but staying out of town next to one of the lakes. My parents who lived about two hundred miles away, owned a holiday home there and I had shifted in after returning from a year away travelling overseas with an older brother.
I loved the lake, but also the location to the coast which was only 20 minutes away as I was an avid surfer.
My job at a timber mill was boring to begin with, handling packets of timber in the 'Export yard', but within a month I got a bit of a promotion and ended up as a 'packet marker.' My foreman seemed to see a bit of potential in me as I had suggested to him an easier way of tracking the packets of timber passing through the yard.
How did I end up working at a timber yard in a small city? Bit of a long story, but I had lost my eldest brother when travelling overseas. We had been travelling in a van, surfing, and working around Australia when a girl and her brother he had hooked up with, invited him to travel to the USA. Cam flew over to spend a month in California with his friends and their family while I remained in Newcastle working at the big steel mill there. He never made it, as Pan Am flight 816 crashed into the Pacific Ocean shortly after take-off from a refuel in Tahiti, and I had not only lost my brother but my best mate. He was a few years older than me, but we were close.
After the memorial services back in New Zealand my parents had suggested I take time out by heading to the lake. I certainly needed it as my head space was a bit 'fucked up.' I didn't particularly want to socialise or be around people but knew in the back of my mind I couldn't do that forever.
Mr and Mrs Gordon, family friends, lived next door, and Mrs Gordon was always dropping over meals for me, and I guess checking I was Ok. She was a lovely lady and was always trying to get me over to BBQ's and parties at the lake side community, but I just wanted to be left alone to try and sort my own shit out. The last thing I wanted was someone asking me awkward questions, the loss of Cam was still raw. My parents to their credit understood this and after their first weekend visit, where I explained my feelings to them, they had basically left me alone with just one call each week to mum to assure her I was alright.
Mum and Dad had obviously been traumatised with the loss of Cam and were dealing with it in their own way. Dad concentrating on his manufacturing business and Mum with her charity work instead of spending their normal summer weekends at the lake.
I spent a few weeks mucking around on the lake trout fishing, kayaking, surfing at the coast and eventually after spending the best part of a weather-bound weekend mostly in bed, decided I had better get my shit together and do something useful. Plus, I needed money.
The cottage always needed some maintenance and I had completed a few jobs in and around it that Dad had suggested. So, I got a local paper and basically applied for the first vacancy I saw which was at the sawmill.
The sawmill was okay, but I didn't have much in common with my fellow workmates who were hunting drinking, "went to a bloody good piss up on the weekend," types.
Arriving home one Friday night I found Mrs Gordon dropping off a tea towel covered meal. She was accompanied by a girl. An attractive girl at that.
"Hi Tim, thought you might like this. Pork chops and apple sauce. Tim, this is our niece Cynthia, she's on holiday from university and is staying a few days.
"Thanks Audrey.' (Mrs Gordon insisted I call her and Roger by their first names.) "Hi Cynthia."
Cynthia was a redheaded girl I guess about my own age. She was quite attractive and when she smiled at me, I could see that even without any make-up on she was a natural beauty. Her bright green eyes drew my attention immediately plus she had just a few freckles beneath them. Cynthia was about 5 foot 7 or 8 but I couldn't really see what sort of figure she had as she wore track pants and a loose pullover top.
I'll just pop this inside for you and put it in the oven if you like." Audrey didn't wait for a reply and headed into the cottage followed by Cynthia and me.
"Aw wow...this is a nice view." Cynthia was standing at the picture window looking over the lawn running down to the lake.
"Isn't it interesting how each property has a different aspect even though they are close to one another." Audrey had joined Cynthia in front of the window. "Tim would it be alright if Cynthia hung out here for a couple of hours, Roger and I need to go to the supermarket to do some shopping and I thought she might like some company her own age while we are away instead of coming with us old boring farts?"
"Umm...yeah no problem." I didn't really feel like company, but it was hard to say no to Audrey after all she had done for me.
"Oh, that would be great. Roger wants to take me for a dinner afterwards, so I guess we'll be back about 10 if that's alright."
"Yeah...no problem."
Audrey headed off. "Sorry about that Tim. Aunty Audrey thought you might like some company I'll just head back once they've gone."
I guess my lack of enthusiasm for company was showing through.
"Nah...stay as long as you want...I've just finished work so I'm going to have a shower. No TV here sorry Cynthia but plenty books and magazines. Tea and coffee in the kitchen, help yourself. You might want a beer, there's some in the fridge and wine there if you would prefer, I might have a wine."
"Ok, thanks Tim...umm...everyone calls me Cindy...just Roger and Audrey insist on Cynthia," she smiled at me.
"Cool...Cindy I like that...nice name." It wasn't that hard to be nice to a girl with a killer smile.
I grabbed a pair of boardshorts out of the bedroom and headed to the shower in the bathroom off the kitchen.
As I came back out Cindy had two glasses on the bench and was pouring wine into them.
"Oh," she exclaimed with a bit of a fright, her eyes quickly scanning over my body. She stuttered a bit. "Th...thought you might like some wine with your dinner."
"Shit...sorry Cindy should have thought to throw a shirt on. Guess I'm used to having the place to myself."
"Aw no...believe me...I don't mind in the least...just got a bit of a fright to see a buff body like that. Shit Tim do you work out or something." That killer smile again.
I laughed. "No...Just surf and thrash the hell out of the water kayaking heaps...thanks for the compliment though Cindy. I'll just grab a shirt."
"Wouldn't worry me if you couldn't find one." Cindy's turn to laugh.
We sat out on the deck, drunk our wine as I ate Audrey's dinner, Cindy having already eaten. I had put on a Neil Young tape and turned the speakers to face the open French doors. We sat in silence for a while contemplating the lake as the water glassed off with the dying afternoon breeze.
"Who is this?" Cindy asked.
"Neil Young...have you not heard him before?"
"Oh yeah...I've heard the name before...guess I just haven't listened to the music."
"My brothers and myself." I gulped as it dawned on me what I'd said. "Umm...he's been a favourite of mine for a while." We sat in silence for a few minutes.
"I'm sorry Tim...Aunty Audrey told me about your brother. I know it hurts like hell; she said you were really close."
"Yeah...well I'd rather not talk about it thanks."
