Page 74 of Ignite

“Mate, chill,” I told him over a counter lunch. Yes, I’d become a regular at his pub. He had the best steak sandwich I’d ever tasted with grilled pineapple, egg, bacon and hashbrown added to the normal salad. Luckily, the jog into town and back home kept my fitness up. Old Man Hobbs reminded me of my old man—salt of the earth and heart of gold. But where my father’s loyalty and sacrifice had been misplaced with people who didn’t give a damn, this town surrounded Old Man Hobbs and his family with love. “We’ve got months before the season starts.”

“You’re new in town,” he chuckled, pouring me another beer. “We lose three months of the year to bushfire and surf lifesaving. If we don’t hold the launch and fundraising early, we won’t be cashed up for the start.”

“We had the auction.”

“Yeah, but after the rain the other week, grass is starting to sprout where the guys have done their hazard reduction. We had to divert funds so they could employ some contractors and get it back under control.”

“So the RFS guys volunteer but others get paid?”

“Yeah,” Old Man Hobbs snorted. “Some assholes won’t wipe their own ass unless there’s a dollar in it for them.”

At least he didn’t look at me as if I was an asshole. Truthfully, there were some things I wanted to do. I could fix the roof on the Emergency Response Centre and Bailey could teach me how to backburn. I’d watched videos Emma had posted online of the guys working out at Shar Curren’s place and it looked like fun.

“So, what’s with the cowbell?” I asked, nodding to the brass bell that hung at the end of the bar. “Some of the guys touch it when they leave, what is with that.”

I’d gone to touch it but had been pulled away by Brody. The dude didn’t give an explanation, and his eyes didn’t invite questions.

“Hope we never have to hear it this season.” The old man furrowed his brows and shook his head. “But its bad out there. Real bad. One spark and the whole country is going to ignite.”

I waited for Old Man Hobbs to serve other patrons and then return. We’d developed a fairly chill relationship. He knew all the stories about the town, and I had nothing but time. It wasn’t like I had a woman keeping me busy.

“The cowbell,” he said, returning to take the seat next to me and motioning for Freya to get us another couple of drinks. “The volunteers touch it for good luck. Luck that they’ll touch it again and luck that they won’t need to hear it.”

I felt a series of shivers run over my body, as if someone had just turned over in their grave. My father? Rylee’s father?

“When they all go out, everyone knows what to do. Some prepare food packs, some prepare coffee. Some go down to the emergency centre and set up for logistics. There’s media, other comms, rostering, ordering in pallets of bottled water, washing clothes if we can peel them off their bodies.”

“I had no idea.” I had thought the only volunteering job was holding a hose and hoping I wouldn’t die.

“When it’s all over, people come back here. The names of all those out in the field are written up on the chalk board next to the dart board.”

I knew it before he said it and the shivers returned. I wanted to be part of this. I wanted to be part of this town.

“As the volunteers get back, they wipe off their name. Once the last firefighter returns, we ring the bell and I open the bar.”

“That must cost you a fortune.” I knew how much my team could drink, but a whole bar?

“Not as much as a life is worth.” He held my gaze. “You’ve got your reasons and I respect that. I’ve known Rylee since she was a twinkle in her daddy’s eye. She’s hurting and you’re not sitting here listening to me because you’ve to other places to go. You’re sitting here because you’re too stubborn to do what you need to do.”

“Are you going to threaten to bash our heads together?” I asked with a cheeky smile.

“No. I’m just hoping the two of you don’t leave it too long before you see what’s in front of you.”

He looked up at the bell and then over to the honor roll. “Life’s too short not to live.”

“Morning coach.” A group of cocky teens greeted me as they arrived for before-school training. The endorphins from jogging to the school hadn’t kicked in and I hated their happy energy. I thought teens were supposed to be sullen, grumpy, and unable to get out of bed before midday. Not this lot.

Instead, I hadn’t smiled since storming out of Rylee’s house, my nights were spent tossing and turning trying to decide which one of us was stubborn and in the wrong, and I’d started looking for jobs back in Sydney.

Meringa was too small not to be with the woman I loved. Yep. I was in love with Rylee Mettner and I couldn’t bring myself not to screw it up.

“Start stretching.” I didn’t smile or give them any encouragement. I stood facing the field, my arms crossed over my chest, and counted bodies as the teens arrived. If I couldn’t get my own shit together, at least I could help them.

As Captain-Coach, I’d been given a broad brief to build and sustain the team from first grade down to juniors. The Masters and Women’s leagues were separate Clubs, but I’d started conversations to see how we could bring everyone together and provide clear pathways from primary school right through.

When Felicity and I came up with the before-school training, I didn’t think it would take off. But Ryan had become a one-man ad machine. I had teens turning up for fitness, for their mental health, and so they could impress me before the next rugby league season. Unsurprisingly, where teen boys came to train, the girls followed. The reverse was true for yoga lessons. Apparently, a number of teenage boys had developed an interest in the core muscle strength and flexibility of gate crashing the yoga lessons.

“Miss is here,” Ryan shouted and they all stopped stretching to cheer. I didn’t have to look around to know that Felicity had arrived.

---