Baden Powell's Comet SOS2022 just for fun

"Like, you forgot to pay the yearly insurance bill!" Ray's Dad barks.

"I am leaving this cesspool," his Mum echoes behind the front door.

"Like living with your sister wouldn't be hell on Earth. "

Mum and Dad won't notice when I go to Scout camp overnight. Since they have no way to pay for or rebuild their farm's sheds, their arguments have gone Supernova. "See you later", Ray mumbles under his breath. Ray tugs on his black rucksack's straps and leaps off the verandah and down the steps on a blue sky spring day.


Ray brushes the baked-on dust off his olive-drape scout uniform and slouch hat. "G'day, Blue." Blue's scurfy red hair dangles over his ears. Blue is Ray's best friend.

"Hi, Ray. Are you still thinking about quitting the Scouts?" Blue ponders.

Ray frowns, "Spending time learning to tie half a dozen different knots I have no use for is a pointless waste of time."

"Let's see what Tim is like as a Scout leader."

Ray's shoe crunch on the orange gravel. The walkway follows the long defunct railway line and slices through the centre of Newfield. Newfield is a farming community off the beaten track. . A blue tarpaulin covers the roof of the wood-panelled town hall. I can't get away from scars left by the recent storm, and Newfield is wrecked left, right and centre.

Blue breaks the silence. "The tail end of cyclones were never this bad."

"Did you bring your camera for this evening?" Ray said. His telescope weighs down his pack.

"Mate, like you need to ask such a thing?" Ray and Blue chuckle.

The local astronomy club hold monthly meetings at the Newfield Observatory. Amidst yesterday's meeting, Ray inadvertently discovered a comet. But despite documenting the comet and intense study of the latest star charts, another night of observation is required to confirm the find.

The Moon and the stars are the bold new frontier for Blue's hobby. His photography aspirations are blasting past portraits of relucent volunteers and nearby landscapes.


Sitting behind the rolling hills, the camping area is the venue for the encampment. Opposite the gas-fired barbecues and Telstra phone boxes are holes in the ground lined with rocks. Hmm, cooking pits, Ray dips his hat.

"Ray and Blue, we are going back to basics. Grab a tent and your cooking gear." Tim is their troop's apprentice leader and the president of the Newfield Astronomy Club. He is 6" 5", yet his shoulders and chest bulge through the usual button-up shirt and tie.

Like clockwork, Ray retrieves the tent bag and Blue lugs the iron pot past Tim and the Scout leader's tent. Ray empties the bag at his feet. These well-used tents are much harder to put up than the ones we take on family holidays.

“Farbic, did my Nana pack these?” Ray spies the transparent container. Blue shrugs his shoulders and shakes out the faded yellow canvas.

"Before earning your outdoor cooking badges, I will show you how to patch your tents." Tim interrupts. Blue swings the pot to the ground.
That makes a change from kicking a ball around during our troop's weekly meetings. I don't need an inspection to tell me that tent is torn to threads.

Plonk, a repair kit, bounces off Ray's hat. He turns around and grumbles, "Tom." Ray catches a whiff of Tom's foul breath and yellow teeth.

Standing by canvas resembling Swiss Cheese, Tom speaks, "Ray, did the Girl Guides reject you again?"
How about a guide? That means I don't break the rest of Tom's teeth. Ray bites his lip and thinks out aloud. "Where is everybody?"

"They stay with family and friends after high winds wrecked their homes or the back roads remain closed," Tim replies.

"I scrambled over three fallen trees on the way to meet up with Ray."


Tim waves Tom over. "The first rule of the wildness is to take care of your equipment. So you don't get injured or die when your shelter and other equipment fail you."

He pauses. "So, ensuring your equipment is up to scratch before you leave and during your travels is your responsibility." Tim opens that container. "To save time, I pre-cut these patches to size beforehand."

Tim places the square patch over one of the tent holes, squeezing silicone out of the tube around the edges. Next, he presses his thumb against the masking tape in the middle of the patch. For the last step, he gently nudges a scraper, removing excess silicone.

"While I start the fire for the next session, your task is to finish the repair job." Tim walks away.

"No more waking up in the middle of the night to the rain drenching our sleeping bags." Blue wipes sweat off his pale arms.

Blue lays out the patches like a deck of cards. Ray matches the material to the size of the holes, and Blue does the rest.

The patchwork complete, Ray wrestles with the canvas and tent poles. He smiles, "Hey, my shoes won't fill with water inside the tent, either." Blue shoves the tent pegs into the dirt.


Ray's hands reach his hips. He grips the pot's handles. Tom gave up trying to cook his dinner. He didn't bother to mend that tent. Tim stokes the flames in the cooking pit with short fat logs.


Chargrilled pasta and an upside-down frying pan are strewn across the glowing red ash in the cooking pit. Tom is eating toothpaste out of the tube outside the ragged tent.

Sitting in front of the crackling and dying flames, Blue slide's the pot's lid, a water bottle and zip-lock bags filled with flour, butter, and salt onto his lap. Ray and Blue know the Damper recipe 'off by heart'.

Blue nods and Ray dispenses the dry ingredients into the pot. Ray's closed fist covers his mouth. "When I go home, my Mum will have gone to live with my aunt in the city."

Blue pours the water over the flour and massages the mixture into a clump. Blue's house is Ray's second home, and he is welcome to stay anytime. "Instead of going home tomorrow, sleepover at my place for a few days."

"Right on, you owe me a Mario Kart rematch." Unlike at home, I don't feel lost at sea around Blue's parents.

Blue wipes dough off his hands, replaces the lid, and lowers the pot into the cooking pit. He yanks the silver Kodak camera from his pack, checks for film, and adjusts the shutter speed and timer.

Tim taps Ray on the shoulder. "I will waterproof test those tents." His bulky arms nearly crush a thin mop bucket filled with water. Tom ignores him, and he tips the contents of the bucket across the tent. So he storms off to god knows where.

Sometime later, "delicious, thanks for sharing." Tim polishes off the last slice of crusty Damper smeared with honey.

"Where did Tom go?" Blue munches.

"Tom didn't take kindly to my weatherproof testing. He refused my advice to remove his stuff from the tent beforehand. He went home."

Thanks for your entry.

Always appreciate your submission's
Johnny

A star twinkles in the warm evening sky. Ray assemblies the telescope and unfolds the tripod on even ground. He fiddles with the telescope's alignment and focuses. Ray's torch is covered with red cellophane to avoid wrecking their night vision. Blue shines the torch, illuminating Tim's pink pen, notebook, and digital watch.


Tim peers through the telescope's eyepiece and furiously scribbles coordinates under previous notebook entries. "Blue, the comet will pass close enough to Earth to give us a decent look." So your photos will serve as a small slice of history."

"Also, ensure your photos match my record-keeping times."


Ray glued himself to the eyepiece. Rock and ice shaped like a deformed tennis ball and encompassed by a blaze of gases and dust. Some astronomers spend hours gazing at the Moon and planets in our solar system. Still, I remain captivated by comets and meteors.

"Can I have a glance at the comet before attaching my camera?" Ray steps back from the telescope, and Blue takes a peek. So Blue rigs the camera to the telescope and takes the first snap. 


Ray tilts his head. What else is left undiscovered? I don't know what awaits me in Newfield. But Blue and his parents are like family to me. Yet my Mum and Dad are bad news. 

I will remain in the Scouts. I bet the next Scout Camp will embrace more of the great outdoors, not games like Catch the Flag.

I don't need to smack Tom in the mouth. He is already cracking under pressure.

In the early hours of the morning, "Ray, have you decided on a name for the comet?" Tim says softly.

"I will name the comet after Baden Powell." Ray's brown eyes sparkle.

"Very fitting." Tim sheds a tear.

"You're not naming it after me." Blue pokes his tongue out.

Ray puts his arm over Blue's shoulders. "You will have to settle for how you are like a brother to me."

"Same here. I won't name what makes me rich and famous after you, either." Blue yawns.

"It is time for Ray to register his find with the Central Bureau for Astronomical Telegrams. So no one else can claim credit for the discovery of Baden's Powell's Comet." Tim hands Ray a bag of change, his torch and pages from the notebook.

In the Phone box, for what seems like an eternity during the call, Ray rattles off the comet's name and details to the Bureau's answering machine and feeds the hungry phone gold coins. 

Maybe, Newfield will finally get a rebuilt town hall including a new floor. I won't trip over the slanted wooden flooring and what his Mum's departure might bring. Who knows what tomorrow will bring in the new frontier?

The End

Dude.. Sorry and apologies.. I got rushed and made an entry while you were still working on the second page.. I feel like an arse.


Bows head in shame..
Johnny

Crickey Johnny. Fair suck of the sav mate.

a reply to: JohnnyAnonymous

originally posted by: JohnnyAnonymous
Dude.. Sorry and apologies.. I got rushed and made an entry while you were still working on the second page.. I feel like an arse.

No problem. I made the mistake of not dividing my tale into chapters or sections during the writing process.