THE FERALS

By Tessa Harvey



On the way to the fish and chip shop on the corner, they both looked at the bright-coloured Christmas trees in people's windows. Tiny fairy lights twinkled and glowed. Decorations sparkled and shone.

The boy was entranced. "Is Santa coming?" he asked hopefully. "Well, have you been good this year?"
"Sometimes," was the honest reply. Why is it so dark here for Christmas and so cold?"

"Because we live on the other side of the world where it's summer."

The boy frowned. "I still want to go home." A tantrum was still brewing. Just then they reached the chip shop. A warm, delicious aroma of frying wafted out and they both realised how hungry they were. "Let's eat here, dad, shall we? OK?" 
"Sure!" They found a small table away from the draught of the door. Jake ordered while Brodie fetched salt and pepper and sauce for their table.

Their meal was soon ready. The cheerful stout shop owner brought it over, beaming. "I even got napkins," she declared. "You are two of my favourite customers! How ya doin' Brodie?"

The boy's face lit up. "I'm okay. It's nearly Christmas!"
"Sure thing," the lady replied, "so do you know what Santa's bringing you from the North Pole?" "It's a 'prise," the boy said. "Really! A surprise! How about that! I hope I get one." The last words were said loudly at her husband, frying chips in the rich golden fat, then pulling them out in the strainer to drain, and quickly tossing them with the ease of long practice. 

Several customers guffawed. "We'll see," was the answer, but the man was grinning. His stubbled face glistened in the bright overhead lights.

Brodie giggled. It was a happy sound and gladdened Jake's heart.

Later, as he tucked his young son into bed, the boy murmured: "Night, daddy. See you in the morning." "God bless, Brodie," his dad whispered, thankful the lad was so tired he had temporarily forgotten his mother and Christmas. "Which was a relief," thought Jake, wearily preparing for bed.

He lay there for a while , covers pulled up close against the pervasive cold. Even living in the far south of Australia in Tasmania, he hadn't been used to such dank cold and greyness. Escaping memories of Angela, using the excuse of visiting both their families in England's North had brought him here. And the Virus had pursued and trapped them.

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