Kevin Cassidy The Cassidy Chronicles

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  “So what’s your name then?”

  “Kev. What’s yours?”

  “He’s Ashley an’ I’m Doug. Are you from the valley?”

  “Nah. —Well, sort-of. We moved up here from Brisbane after school broke up at the end of last year. What about you?”

  “Ar me Dad’s got a property north of Charters Towers,” said Ashley, “and Doogle use to live a bit further out.”

  “Yeah,” said Doogle. “Me an’ Sash use to go t’ school together there. Then a coupla years ago my family moved up here.”

  “Is that what they call you?” I asked Ashley. “‘Sash’?”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Sash replied. “...Only you shoulda seen ‘im, ay. He comes in here in a real shitty mood, as if ‘e’s been sent to reform school or sump’n for about a hundred years. Then ‘e chucks ‘is things on the bed an’ starts crappin’ on about havin’ to spend half ‘is life in this miserable dump – an’ never even sees me.

  “Anyhow, I grabs me pillow then sneaks up behind him and whams ‘im on the head. ‘Who the hell d’ you think you are, y’ bloody drongo?’ I yells in a fake voice. Round ‘e comes, ay – fighting mad. Gees, y’ shoulda seen the look on ‘is dial when ‘e seen who it was.”

  “Yeah? You’re bloody lucky I didn’t just flatten you first. Y’ nearly broke me flamin’ neck, ay.”

  “Well, I had to get your attention, didn’t I. Anyway, just give it a try, anytime you like.”

  They glared at each other for a moment like two bantam roosters with their feathers ruffled.

  “Why do they call you Sash?” I asked.

  “Ar, that’s easy,” said Doogle. “His name’s Ashley Saddlehead, so we started callin’ him Addlehead – Sashley Addlehead. But everyone finished up callin’ him Sash.”