A multicoloured campervan zooms over the sprawling plains of Hokitika, gathering speed, vanishing and emerging from the mirror haze like an apparition.
Tom – Pwhhhoo.. Lets eat now boys? I want food now. What do you think of that boys. Food now? I’m ready if you are.
Liam – Oh yeah. Great idea. What about an egg sandwich? Just a quick one?
James – I was thinking eggs and noodles?
Liam – I’m good for eggs and noodles. Sounds good to me boy!
Tom – Oh yeeah, Nate, pull up on this verge right here and we’ll get this party started.
Nate – No. Just wait until we get there. We’re no more than an hour from the location now, won’t be long.
The boys glanced at each other and giggled nervously, for none could quite understand what their ears had told them.
Tom – Wait a second brother, what, what’s happened here? I knew travelling was meant to, you know n all that but this could, well, this… this? stutter, stutter,
And alas the shock came and struck the boy dumb. An unusual silence commanded the road for a time thereafter – every now and again, a noise resembling english language struggled from the lips of Tom or James and gathered supporting nods from around the van, before quickly receding into harumphs, incomprehensible gargling sounds, and again a leaden silence.
Allow me to try and explain. Nate, who before was yielding to bouts of hunger every 5 and 10 minutes, stuffing his face with copious amounts of chocolate and nuts, and in general becoming unpalatable in his relentless quest for food, had just tended a complete u turn in this previous disposition and was now (against all odds) the groups perpetrator of restraint! But wait! His smirk of virtuous triumph was waning a little, a barely perceptible crease of uncertainty rippling across his forehead, he’s shifting a tad from side to side, and suddenly, the new title seems too much to handle on our young Nates shoulders as at last he adds.
Actually. Fuck it boys. Let’s cook some god damn eggs.
And with that the bated breath withdraws and the usual chatter resumes itself in the comfort of the camper. The canola oils asizzling, eggs afrizzling and after a short while Tom finds himself to be himself again, and his wit alongside it and offers –
Travels changed you Nate. That’s a farmer’s wisdom right there.
And Nate retorting.
Stop saying farmer man, I don’t want to be associated with a fucking farmer’s wisdom.
Well it’s because you don’t see the value in a farmer’s wisdom.
Well just stop man. I don’t like it.
I just think of it as a quiet wisdom. It’s not like a sage wandering out into the wilderness and coming back with all these profound insights for society. Farmers just know the land and the bare necessities born out of it. For them, there is pleasure in restraint. I admire a farmer’s wisdom.
A short silence. And then.
Well. Since you put it like that, I’m happy to have the farmers wisdom.
No man. The pleasure is all mine.
And that was that.
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