“A Go Anna chased me up the hill, he chased me up the hill today. Just walking along, kicking a stone when out of the bush, eyes yellow and cold, stepped the Goanna so scaly and bold.”
We stood at the urinal, he was about five years old. Eyes big as dinner plates, ears twitching as the tale was told.
“I stood there silent. He flicked out his tongue then lifted his tail and started to run
I turned on my heel and as fast as I could and ran up the hill as I thought I should.”
The boy finished his business and waited for me. Ignoring the flush of the cistern above, waved his hands in circles, painting a picture for all to see.
“But I got it all wrong, my head’s in a twist. Should be going downhill cause Goanna’s are fast when facing uphill.”
Washed my hands under the tap. Sprinkled some on his hot face as he went on with the chase.
“I took four steps, he took five. He was gaining on me, I was to be eaten alive! It was then that I noticed my leg caught in the twine. Trailing back down the track, to Goanna’s legs, front and back. Each step that he took was shortening the thread.”
He showed me his leg and the welts there upon. I had to sit down as the tale went on.
He sat down beside me. His face all a flush as he revealed the horrors of the bush.
“The Goanna came closer and flicked out his tongue. Must have split it in two, so to me, what could he do?”
A sadness came over the little chap’s face as he pondered the problems the Goanna had to face. But this was not the end of the race!
“I quickly untied him and said you are free. He flicked out his tongue and he kissed me … see?”
Before running away the boy showed me his neck and there, were two dirt marks where the soap had missed. I looked at the trees hanging above and there on a branch what do I see? A Goanna dangling a thread down at me.
© John W. Kelly