Chapter Six.

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6.

 

After two and a half days of cramped car-sleeping and service-station food, we found ourselves in a semi-rural town north-west of Brisbane.

A billboard welcomed us garishly.

WELCOME TO NORROMBA it read. Underneath was a curly-lettered subheading.

Finest cheese in the Southern Hemisphere!

 

As we discovered, almost everyone in Norromba were either dairy farmers or cheese-makers. Hazy-eyed cows ridden with sleep lifted their heads at Rex, who replied with aggressive interest.

We stayed a day, and left with less money than what we had arrived with, and a large amount of Brie cheese.

The town one hundred kilometres north of Norromba was far more curious.

As we crossed the town boundaries of Jarramun, a horde of naked protestors flooded the street with angry-coloured posters.

FREE GRASS

WEED FOR A BETTER FUTURE

MARIJUANA AIN’T GONNA HARM YA

‘Oh, dear God,’ my mother said quietly. Rex forced his snout out the sliver of open window and barked interestedly at a large woman wearing nothing but a cheap plastic hula skirt and a dazed expression.

The air was thick with smoke. Smoke, shouts, laughter and angry-coloured posters.

My mother rolled up the window and smashed her foot on the accelerator.

Rex slid backwards.

I slid forwards.

In fact, everything in the car seemed to slide in one way or another. The bobble-head dog with a lazy smile slid sideways and cracked its grin on the upholstery. Cheese wrappers danced prettily through the air.

A green poster emblazoned with marijuana leaves slapped bellicosely on the windscreen.

CANNABIS FOR THE PLANET

The car stopped, and my mother flicked on the windscreen wipers. The poster squeaked aside reluctantly.

It was comical.

The bobble-head dog. Rex’s nostrils jammed out the window. The angry-coloured posters and their not-quite- there slogans.

We drove out of Jarramun with angry-coloured thoughts.

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