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Douglas, as he continued to dig holes with a stick.
    ‘Is that your answer, Audrey?’ asked Mrs Barlow. ‘It sounded more like a question.’
    ‘I’ll give you an example.’
    ‘Where did you learn that big word?’
    Mrs Barlow flicked out a pair of Price’s trousers, then folded them in half, before placing them in the basket.
    ‘From the dictionary in the lounge room.’ Audrey smiled. ‘It’s got lots of good words in it.’
    ‘I bet.’
    ‘It’s like this …’ Audrey stroked her mum’s arm, to help her understand. ‘Remember when I was four and I used to pick my nose? Dad told me that my finger was getting too big and it would get stuck up there. Well, now I’m older, so I’ve stopped.’
    ‘I’m so glad.’
    ‘I’m doing another change. The swagman idea didn’t work out, so I’ve thought of something else. I’m sick of being a girl. We don’t get enough words. I’m going to be a man.’

Fifteen
    Audrey stood by her bedroom window and peered into the hand-mirror she’d borrowed from her mother. She tilted back her head, then turned it from side to side.
    ‘You coming, or what?’ Price’s voice surprised her from the doorway.
    Audrey jumped.
    ‘What are you doing?’ he asked. ‘Staring at yourself in the mirror?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Yes, you were. I just saw you.’
    Audrey slapped the mirror down on her mattress. ‘I was checking something.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I was looking to see if I had nose hairs.’
    ‘Nose hairs?’
    ‘Don’t copy everything I say.’ Audrey flounced past him. ‘Yesterday I decided to be a man. And men have hairs sticking out of their noses. Dad does. I’ve seen Mum trimming them with scissors. She nicked his nose once and made it bleed.’
    Price followed Audrey through the tiny lounge room to the kitchen. ‘You can’t be a man ,’ he said.
    ‘Toothless reckons people can be anything they want. They just have to make up their minds to it,’ she said. ‘That’s why he’s got jaws in his bag. I made up my mind to be a man.’
    She swung into her rolling lope, the way she imagined her dad and other men, like Toothless, walked. Each of her trouser legs was tucked up to make a fat cuff. Then she plucked at her braces, making them snap against her chest. She lowered her voice to make it as deep as she could. ‘Fair dinkum, Price. Let’s get this job done.’
    ‘You’re as mad as a cut snake,’ said Price.
    ‘No, I’m …’ For a second, Audrey had reverted to her usual voice. Then she remembered and lowered it again. ‘Reckon I should give you a hand.’
    ‘Reckon not .’ Price grabbed a square tin of kerosene. ‘You’d get in the way. You can watch.’
    Audrey pouted.
    ‘Even if you were a man, which you’re not , I’m the oldest.’
    ‘Fair enough, mate.’ Audrey followed her brother outside.
    She was tempted to give her bird-whistle, the signal that she wanted Stumpy. But she held back. She’d told him that she had man-things to do today and couldn’t play children’s games. He had to stay out bush till she called him back.
    Audrey strode behind Price, carefully avoiding the patch of three-cornered jacks. Although the prickles were tiny, they were hard, with sharp points. And it was difficult picking them out of the soles of her only pair of boots.
    Yesterday’s wind had blown itself out. The hessian walls on the long-drop dunny hung straight and still.
    ‘Eggs,’ shouted Douglas, from inside the chookyard. He was helping Mum.
    The chooks were letting them go again. Maybe their stomachs had finally got too big.
    ‘Price, how many eggs can a chook carry in its stomach at the same time?’ she asked.
    Her brother shrugged.
    When they reached the long-drop, Price screwed up his nose. ‘This dunny’s ripe.’
    Usually a dose of lime got rid of the smell. But not this time.
    Audrey tugged the trousers to loosen the knees so she could sit back on her heels. ‘Dad reckons you don’t have to empty your own dunny in the city. A bloke