Read Online The Glass Kingdom by Chris Flynn - Free Book Online Page A

hadn’t needed someone I could at least half trust there on the farm keeping an eye on things, I would’ve had him running the Target Ball stand that very night. I flipped Freddy over with the toe of my boot and crouched down beside him.
    â€˜You have two days to get that seven grand, Freddy McNamara, otherwise Patrick Gray here’s going to take your hands off with a hacksaw. And once you do get it, you’re to give it directly to him.’ I looked up at my latest recruit. ‘You keep that money, Patrick. That’s your retainer, and there’ll be more where that came from. Call me if you think anything here’s not running as smoothly as it should be.’
    â€˜Yes, Mr Wallace.’
    The plastic chair clattered out of the pool behind me. Freddy’s two sons climbed out after it, pulling up their sodden swim trunks, all thin, gangly limbs, flattened hair and scared eyes. It was a scorcher of a day, but they were both shivering.

It’s easy to go insane working at the Kingdom without something else to do. Steph and I were so desperate for a distraction from the daily grind that we even paid Cactus World in Gilgandra a visit. The fucken place was closed for a holiday, so we had to settle for a glimpse of some bloke’s extensive collection of cacti through a wire fence. It was devastating, in a funny sort of way. Clearly we needed to get out more.
    â€˜How many of the “big” things have you seen?’ Steph asked me as we climbed reluctantly back into the ute.
    â€˜Not that many,’ I told her, thinking about it. ‘The Big Worm, the Big Yabby and the Big Merino are the only ones I remember.’
    â€˜Oh yeah, that big sheep’s a popular one.’
    â€˜You must have seen loads.’ Steph had travelled right around Australia when she was younger and even more of a hippie.
    â€˜Um, let’s see. I’ve been to the Big Ant, the Big Diplodocus, the Big Pavlova, the Big Prawn of course, the Big Dugong, the Big Scotsman and a couple of others.’
    â€˜How many of these cultural icons are there, anyway?’
    â€˜About a hundred and fifty, I think. Be funny to see them all.’
    â€˜The road trip of a fucken lifetime.’ I consulted the clock on the dashboard. It was almost eleven. The show wouldn’t be open for another couple of hours. ‘I could go a big pie,’ I told Steph, who groaned and agreed that it was probably time for second breakfast.
    We drove to one of the town pubs and parked right outside. The street was mostly empty. The heat was enough to put off any pedestrians. Old men at the bar looked up from their pots of beer as we entered. Other than a few obligatory double takes at my neck, no one paid us much attention. The old men resumed contemplation of their beers as Steph and I slid into a booth.
    The place had been fitted out to resemble an Irish pub, with snugs lining one wall allowing small groups to drink in relative privacy. A flat-screen television dominated the main wall, showing an old rugby match. Apart from the quartet of old farts propping up the bar, the only other patron was a bloke in his twenties staring into his drink in the booth behind ours.
    â€˜You know, I don’t usually do it, but I gave myself a card reading last night.’
    â€˜Yeah? What’d you find out? Tall dark stranger on the horizon?’
    â€˜No. I hope you’re not going to make fun of this. It’s serious.’
    â€˜Is it? You better go ahead and tell me, then.’
    â€˜It’s pretty much what I suspected anyway. The Four of Swords came out, as did the High Priestess. Those are both pretty appropriate, given our situation.’
    â€˜Your situation, you mean.’
    â€˜Yeah, right, exactly. So the Four of Swords is an eye-of-the-hurricane card. That means an ordeal has ended and for the moment I will have a period of quiet, some time to reflect before potential danger returns.’
    â€˜I