Bricks were just the beginning of Kevin Page’s generosity. Photo / 123rf
Opinion
So, there I am the other day outside the home of the Boomerang Child and her bloke and I’m looking at the back of my brand new ute, and I’m thinking, what on earth have I let myself in for?
That’s because the rear canopy is absolutely chock full of linen blankets, pillows, etc, etc. All that sort of stuff. And it all needs to be disposed of by someone. No prizes for guessing who that someone was.
You may recall the Boomerang Child and Builder Boy held a garage sale recently and at the end of it found they had all this stuff leftover.
Trying to be helpful, I offered to throw it all in the back of my ginormous new vehicle and take it away to the op shops around town.
I have to say I completely underestimated how much there was.
What looked like a little pile on the floor of their lounge the evening before turned out to be at least a metre and a half high by two wide and took at least 10 loading trips from inside the house to the car which was parked on the road verge outside the gate.
And that was where I was, looking at the carnage, when an unfamiliar, timid little voice piped up.
“Excuse me sir. Is this free?”
Upon turning, I discovered the enquirer was a very slight chap. And when I say slight I’m trying to illustrate that a small or very light breeze would have blown him over. I’m sure you get the picture.
He had gotten out of his tiny, bright yellow vehicle, one of those minuscule arrangements that would fit in the back of my ute if I tried hard enough, and he was asking about a small pile of fire bricks which were still on the kerb, me not having put them in the back of the ute yet.
Anyway, we got chatting.
It seems he and his family have just taken possession of new rental accommodation and, finding it a bit chilly already, he was on the lookout for something to make his log burner a little more efficient.
Naturally, I said he could take the bricks. I mean anything that made my job all the bit easier was a good thing as far as I was concerned.
Putting two and two together I figured if he was wanting some fire bricks he might also be looking for some other stuff to keep his family warm this winter so I asked if he needed any blankets or linen by any chance. His eyes lit up. He certainly did.
For the next 10 minutes or so we pulled out various individual bits and pieces from the tightly packed pile in the back of the ute and he squealed with delight as I said he could was welcome to each item.
It was then I remembered there were two blankets in reasonably good condition, still in the plastic packaging. Underneath everything right at the front covered canopy. They would be perfect for him. The only thing was we’d need to get them out.
My new mate could see that I wasn’t going to be able to get to them because of my current arm injury (still in a cast for another few weeks) and so he took a flying leap and jumped in himself.
It took a little while, but working his way to the front, he finally located the items in question and threw them back out to me one at a time.
A quick aside here. In best former soccer goalkeeper style. I caught both of them, one at a time, in one hand. I’ve still got it, obviously.
But I digress.
I suggested to my mate, rather than mess around with bits and pieces, he might as well take everything, and he agreed. A huge beam spread across his face as he started to pull it out of the ute.
At this point, I explained I’d put everything on the back of a large blanket which was already in the base of the ute. So the easiest way to do it would be to just pull that blanket out thus bringing everything else out on top of it.
Excitedly, he agreed, and standing at the tailgate, with each fist tightly clenched around a corner of the blanket, he pulled with all his might.
Wafer thin he may have been, but there was some strength in this little fellow and the huge mountain of linen started to budge.
As he pulled he moved back and, somewhere about the same time as he’d pulled the bulk of the items to the edge of the tailgate, the inevitable happened.
I wanted to tell him to be careful, but the words didn’t come out fast enough and he stumbled backwards onto the grass and the entire mountain of blankets, sheets, etc, etc came down on top of him.
I have to say it was pretty hard to stifle the laughter that was rumbling around inside my belly but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
It got even harder to stifle the laughter as he got himself ‘unburied’ from the linen avalanche and we progressed to the loading of his tiny, tiny car.
It seemed to me that we were stuffing blankets, sheets, pillowcases, tea towels ... you name it into every nook and cranny. So much so that his little boy, probably about 8-years-old and sitting quietly in the back seat was quickly buried by items as it filled up the back seat and spilled over to the front.
Eventually, we got all the stuff shoved in and my new buddy managed to squeeze in beside it. I doubt he would have had room to remove a handkerchief from his pocket if he’d wanted to blow his nose.
He did manage to wind down the window though and offered another thanks and huge smile as he prepared to drive off.
Just as he was about to depart, I realised he’d left something up against the wheel of my car.
Happy he had essentially saved me a couple of hours of driving round and unloading. I wanted to ensure he had everything so I ran after him with the item he’d left behind.
It was a tri-pillow. One of those triangle shaped pillows you stick behind your back when you’re sitting up in bed reading, that sort of thing.
I’d seen him looking at it earlier on and just assumed he’d want it but had left it off to the side so he could put it in last.
“You forgot this mate,” I said after making the quick dash to catch him.
I was completely flummoxed by his reply.
Apparently, he didn’t want it. And while he was very grateful for all the other stuff we’d given him he couldn’t see much point in taking the tri-pillow too.
Because he didn’t know how to “work it”.
Gang patches can no longer be worn in public.