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school work, but he just didn't seem to be able to concentrate. Everything else though, social studies and geometry and sport – especially sport – he was good at. He was the fastest runner in our class and a good batsman at cricket. I was usually one of the last ones a captain would pick for his team and always, they'd send me way out where no balls ever seemed to go, which suited me fine.
    However, when the side was desperate, when there was no one else left to bat, I'd get a go. Bradman I wasn't, but I usually managed a few runs. Once they were in a desperate situation against a side with Steve and his mates in it and needing the seven runs I scored for our side to win. It was the one and only time I was carried aloft from the field as a champion sportsman. Still, I liked reading better – about places and people, wars and the ancient civilisations like Greece and Rome and Egypt.
    The hardest part for both of us was when the school reports came home. Dad regularly said 'just always do your best' and would never say one of us was better than the other. The things that got him mad though, were comments like 'bit of a daydreamer' or 'can be disruptive' or 'can do better', that seemed to always conclude Doug's reports. My reports, besides the scores for each subject out of one hundred, luckily ended with 'continues to show improvement' or 'excellent effort.' I felt a bit self-conscious about my school reports in the face of Doug's, but knew I only achieved them not through being smarter, but by the fact I worked harder. Doug was smart, just as smart as me. He could have achieved similar results, but for him the view outside the classroom window was always more enticing than the work on the blackboard. That was Doug.

Chapter Four

    May was the month of Mary, as Sister Mary Placid kept on telling us. All religious readings and stories at school and church on Sundays were about Mary. She was the mother of Jesus and not Mary Magdalene who, as Sister pronounced when asked by a classmate, "was not related in any way whatsoever" to the Virgin Mary.
    It seemed like the longest month ever. The 24th of May was Mary's Feast Day, known as Mary Help of Christians. Sister maintained that this was the real reason why we were celebrating it. Some adults said it was because it was Empire Day, initially in honour of Queen Victoria. None of that mattered to us. It was Cracker Night – our first Cracker Night in town.
    For the whole month, every kid at school was on their best behaviour, with the promise of crackers as the reward from their parents. We'd all seen them on display at Green's the grocer and also the service station.
    For Doug and me it meant besides the collecting of the eggs and watering of the gardens, we'd do extra things like sweeping the verandah, gathering the vegies for Nan, getting home early enough to set the table and keeping quiet when the news was on the wireless. We also declared a truce on kicking each other under the table. By the time the 24th came around, I swear, if there was anything more we could have possibly done, they'd be renaming it the Holy Day of Doug and Pat.
    Cracker Night was weeks in the planning. Several bonfires were prepared around town, for it was also the chance for everyone to get rid of all that year's rubbish in one fell swoop. Our bonfire was for everyone in Main Street south of the Casuarina cross-street. Doug, Barry, Raymond, myself and some of the other boys dragged old palings, broken pieces of furniture, old tyres and any fallen branches we could find or that neighbours gave us, to a large clearing about fifteen yards in diameter. The men had made it a few weeks before in the long grass in the paddock behind Mr Symonds place. Mr Wood, Mr Symonds and other parents helped us build the bonfire on the weekends. Mr Green even gave us some old fruit crates.
    Old mattresses, the furniture and tyres were stacked into a big pile. These were then surrounded with the palings to form an overall