Jack

The old commer truck had seen better days. Half the floor was missing, the drivers door was held closed with a piece of wire and the wipers didn't work properly. Why and how I never got pulled over by the cops all those times, I'll never know.

I had just turned off the highway and onto the gravel road that led to the farm, when a mob of kangaroos jumped out in front of me. One jumped clear in front of the truck. I had no time to swerve or brake. The truck ploughed into it. You never forget that haunting noise. Flesh against steel. THUMP.

I stopped and went back to check to see if the kangaroo was still alive. If that was the case then I'd have to shoot it, but to also check for a joey in the pouch. Most country folk stop to check.

It was a freezing cold night. The wind howled and the driven rain stung as it hit my face. The kangaroo was dead. I was thankfully for that. I wasn't looking forward to shooting her. I put my hand in the pouch, it was cosy warm. I felt something wriggle. I grabbed hold of it's legs and pulled out a little boomer. I held it up by the legs and looked into its eyes. Scared, confused and cold, its defence was to hiss at me. I giggled at the feeble attempt.

I carried it back to the truck. I couldn't leave it there, it would die without it's mother. But I was not going to dong it on the head either. I found an old hessian bag under the seat and wrapped the little boomer in that and then shoved the whole thing down my shirt. The hessian was itchy and I had a rash for days. But knew my body heat would keep the little bugger warm until I got home.

When I got home I tucked the little roo into bed with me and this was the routine we took for six months. I can't begin to tell you how many times I changed and washed the sheets.

He grew fast and bounced around the yard like a wobbly spring. I named him Jack.
By the time Jack was twelve months old, he would venture out into the paddocks during the day and then make his way back to the house at night. But one night he never returned.

From time to time, I would see this lone kangaroo sitting on the ridge. I used the binoculars one day to spy him. I could never tell if it was Jack, after all most roos look the same. But I believed it was him.