G’DAY: Moment 1

This complimentary excerpt from G’DAY: Aints. Read the The Magic Man and Family Roots also.

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MOMENT ONE

COFFIN

Driew had never known anyone to die, and he wouldn’t let today be that day.

Driew fought! Bound and gagged inside the suffocating supply box, his sing-song voice now restrained by his bindings remained unable to save him. Driew feverishly peeked through the cracks of his locked wooden coffin of doom. His eyes burned with pain from the sliver of sunlight upon the horizon.

His Tasmanian Tiger joey, squealed from the tormenting blows of two masked teens. Dingo hung from the rusty wire clothesline bagged like a papoose in a sinister’s dress—Gayle’s. With two wooden baccastix, the teens walloped Dingo like a celebratory piñata.

Disguised in a black hooded sweatshirt, the boy tormentor commanded the girl, “Let’s take the mongrel to the river.”

“You never mentioned drownin’ it,” the girl tormentor said, wearing a matching disguise.

“If it swims, it won’t drown. If it drowns, then it would’ve died sooner or later,” the boy said.

Fraught with urgency, Driew wriggled against his painful confines.

“I’ve never seen claws on a dog before. I’m not touchin’ it,” the girl said.

“We’ll use this stick for totin’ the mongrel down to the river,” he said, handing the girl a wooden baccastix, normally used for firing dark tobacco.

Driew rubbed his cheek against the wooden floor, snagging the gag cloth on a splintered board. Nostrils flaring in anger, he peered through the cracks of the box as Dingo slid off the clothesline onto the baccastix carrying pole.

Driew pressed hard against the splintered board, grimacing as it pierced his cheek. With a fitful yank, the gag ripped but remained cinched.

The tormentors dragged Dingo to the supply box where Driew struggled. The boy tormentor kicked the box near Driew’s head. The forceful kick cracked the board against Driew’s temple. He winced, knocking back urges to cry out his pain. The bully stole Driew’s happiness but he wouldn’t find satisfaction in Driew’s pain.

Dingo’s marsupial cries subsided into low, fearful whimpers. He, like Driew, sensed potential danger.

“There’s no family crueler than ours,” the boy said.

This all too familiar phrase Driew learned and understood bloody quick. He pulled at the slobbery gag a third time, freeing his clenched jaw. Inhaling a much needed breath, he was able to sing-song, bellowing to the baccastix supporting Dingo.

The baccastix ignited, engulfing stick and dress with teal blue flames. Startled by the sudden fire, the tormentors dropped the flaming stick and cargo onto the unforgiving soil.

Ripping through the dress with his cat-like claws, Dingo escaped, scurrying to a nearby tree for safety.

“You’re full of bad ideas! The dog is loose and mad!” The girl yelled as she ran from the flaming baccastix out of Driew’s sight.

“Come back you big sissy. We’re not done with him!” The boy hollered, chasing behind the girl.

Driew rolled onto his back and sighed, “As always, left like a magician to free myself.”

Lured by his curiosity to the opened yard supply box, Driew had spent nearly an hour locked away in solitary confinement. While peering into the box, his twin tormentors wrangled him like a rodeo calf, locking him inside.

When faced with difficult situations, Driew sought out his own solutions to problems. This meant not asking others to do something he wouldn’t. He calmed himself rather than bellyaching and calling for help.

His oldest sister and brother, Killiope and Pester, both graduated and moved away. Killiope served in the US military, and Pester played college lacrosse. Their absence offered no comfort as Driew’s twin siblings sealed his little bother fate on the farm.

Driew lay staring through the darkness of the confining coffin, focusing on the wooden box lid.

“Torments must be what the last born deserves,” he said to himself.

Sing-song, a spooking voice called from the familiar spook, finding Driew once again in despair.

Hopeful his sing-song controlled this wooden box as it had many other wooden objects on the farm like the baccastix, Driew sang. The supply box lid rattled against the lock outside. Driew turned his song’s focus toward the end of the box at his feet and sang his sing-song intently. The end fell open and a joyful tiger-striped flash bounded into the box over his feet and onto his chest. Dingo’s joyous licks showed Driew his parents weren’t the only ones who loved him unconditionally.

Shuffling feet first from the box, Driew scooted outside in the sunlight’s freedom.

“I must be a magic man to escape their box of doom.”

—•—

G'DAY-Aints-www.mwa.company-Flat Book
Text and illustrations copyright © 2018 by Mark Wayne Adams. All rights reserved. Family Tree Novel is a SYP Kids imprint.

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G’DAY: The Magic Man

This complimentary excerpt from G’DAY: Aints. Read the Family Roots and Moment One also.

—•—

THE MAGIC MAN

Dreamtime created me with no story, no name, and no family. I can hear, and see, but have no language to record my story. I must learn to sing out or forever remain lost in the Never Never.

In Australia’s Aboriginal culture, songs keep sacred lands and family trees around me alive. My beginning starts with a songline, one of numerous creator-beings’ paths created across the land and sky during Dreaming.

The path of creator-beings is evident from their footprints upon the land, like lush billa bongs, rock formations, and other natural marvels. One songline can cross numerous lands through forests of family trees belonging to diverse cultures. Proper sing-song sequences have navigated Aboriginal people vast distances through the Never Never land’s extensive songline systems—why not me?

Language is not a barrier here in the Never Never because sing-song describes the land, and to listen to its rhythm is walking upon a sacred songline. Singing the wrong direction along a songline is a sacrilege that creates epic, dire, and tragic moments.

My journey is a heart-pounding right-of-passage walkabout. Not every word will be written to find my name, family, and story. I share this songline with two other boys: one of us is lost, one stolen, and one longs to return from the Never Never.

Timing is the most important factor in all our stories. Timeless footprints on the Never Never land uproot passion. What does passion mean in this story? The Latin word for passion is pati, meaning suffer for what you love. And so I shall.

There are two sides to every family tree story—one hidden inside and one that escapes like leaves on the wind. Readers are neither at the beginning nor the end of my story, only navigating the long middle part of life, questioning the past and pondering the future. Following my songline may uproot a reader’s passions, causing them to suffer for what I love.

—Magic Man

—•—

G'DAY-Aints-www.mwa.company-Flat Book
Text and illustrations copyright © 2018 by Mark Wayne Adams. All rights reserved. Family Tree Novel is a SYP Kids imprint.

Driew’s Sing-Song

A certain sequence of events must happen in every person’s life to make the inevitable and avoidable impossible.

Driew sing-song, rubbing his hands across to the swaying tree’s bark. His pencil floated above. New leaves whispered along with his song.

The bark gently rolled open, revealing the living wood beneath. The words in his heart and song carved themselves into the tree. Cursive memories of his Outback experience.

This is your story. His sing-song had purpose.

OUTBACK: Bothers & Sinisters by M. W. Adams

Language of the OUTBACK by Moment

Language of the OUTBACK by Moment

16-OUTBACK-Language_of_the_Outback-By_Moment

This list is for teachers and parents. Discuss these words with readers before they read each chapter. Readers may have difficulty with words that don’t appear in everyday discussion. Adopting new words and terms builds a better vocabulary to describe Outback experiences.

MOMENT ONE:  bothers, G’day, Heterochromia, mate, shonky, sinisters, willy willy

MOMENT TWO:  bloody, boomerang, Kentucky, Outback, shag on a rock

MOMENT FOUR:  furphy, galah, larrikins

MOMENT SIX:  Aussie, Australia, mamaay, momu, sand shoes

MOMENT SEVEN:  sing-song

MOMENT EIGHT:  aints, kussins, Malle, uncools

MOMENT TWELVE:  Billa bing bong boom, bushie

MOMENT FOURTEEN:  water boarder

MOMENT SIXTEEN:  Florida, sunshine state

OUTBACK 3D-book-72DPI-RGB

For more resources using the Language of the Outback or discussion of the OUTBACK book, choose these helpful links:

OUTBACK: Word Search

Reading Group Guide for OUTBACK: Bothers & Sinisters