A Silly Story

One afternoon on a sunny but chilled June day, two kangaroos were wobbling down a packed dirt road on bicycles. One, the younger, a strapping red-back just out of university, was having a better time of it than his older, rather grayish companion.

"You know, Stanley," the red-back said. "Once you get the hang of the pedals and things, this is quite lovely."

"Hm," non-committed his friend.

"I reckon we should turn around soon to go back for tea, don't you? I think Matilda's bringing her chocolate-covered ants again."

"Oh, Christ," Stanley responded, going a bit unsteady on his bicycle. "Charley's not bringing her again, is he?"

"Matilda's all right," the red-back said, not noticing that his companion had fallen behind. "She's something nice to look at anyway."

"That's being generous." Stanley was sweating rather badly. "Look here, Ted, why don't we rest a bit?"

"Oh, but look here," Ted panted a little with excitment as he stood on the pedals and pumped himself forward. "There are some emus, do you see them? Let's see if we can't rile them up a bit."

"Really, I do wish we'd stop." Stanley came to a near crash against a tree but righted himself.

"They just look so peculiar when they run," Ted continued, oblivious to his friend's struggle. "Like they're wearing skirts. All fluttery."

Stanley then did topple over, the bicycle making a lazy half circle without him before collapsing. Stanley grumbled and got up reluctantly, then brushed himself off and kicked at the bicycle in a fit of righteous anger.

"Bloody contraption," he said.

"Now, don't get upset at the bicycle," Ted chided. He had come back to help his friend but now stared at him from atop his vehicle, making oblong turns int he dirt.

"We've missed the emus."

"Stuff the emus!" Stanley was truly angry now. He felt foolish both for letting his friend talk to him into going for a ride and for being spectacularly bad at it. He then gathered himself up and said quietly, "Come here."

"What is it?" Ted asked, laying his bicycle aside and hopping to Stanley. Stanley leaned back on his tail and kicked Ted once in the face, catching the larger kanga by surprise.

"Bloody hell," Ted growled. He shook his head as if trying to adjust it to rights. "What was that for?"

Stanley, sober now after the outburst and his threads of anger dropping away, couldn't remember why he'd been so upset at Ted and tried to placate his friend.

"Sorry mate," he began, wagging his forepaws. "Listen, I don't know what came over me. Look, here's a beautiful shrubbery over here. Have a bite."

"That really hurt," Ted said, not easily appeased. He was trying to figure out if he should kick Stanley back. "Is it my fault you're no good at riding a bicycle?"

"You've just changed," Stanley confessed. "Since uni. Hopping used to be good enough for you. And now it's bicycles and pompous Charley and bloody Matilda with her bloody chocolate-covered ants. You never hang with your old mates anymore."


Ted went still then and Stanley couldn't tell if his friend was brooding or thoughtful. Finally, Ted said, "We better get back for tea."

Stanley bent down over his bicycle to begin the arduous task of lifting and mounting it.

"Leave it," Ted said. "I'll come round and pick them up tomorrow."

"You sure?" Stanley asked.

"Yeah," Ted said. "It's a tad chilly this afternoon and a hop or two might do us some good."

"Oh, I'd love that," Stanley said, who had been a champion hopper in his youth. Sorry for the outburst. I don't know--"

"No worries, mate," Ted interrupted. "What would you say to tea tomorrow just you and me? And then a few pints at the Prairie Hotel with the old blokes?"

"Ah," Stanley sighed, jumping a few times in place. "That'd be heaps good."

And then the two kangaroos hopped back down the dirt road, leaving the bicycles behind in the bushes.