Wild West

Partners, prepare to draw. Your gun, not a picture. Geez. To help you get in the mood, hit play on the below video and listen whilst you read.

The carriage creaked its way over the dusty road, horses lathered and straining in the hot air. Wheels lazily flung up thick clots of mud as the carriage slowly made its way along the pockmarked track. Hooves sucked in and out of the slurry of muddy water, a result of the sudden downpour which had occurred during the ferry crossing not an hour previously. A small village appeared around a bend in the road, and the horses whickered at the smell of livestock and civilisation. The seven inhabitants (known in these parts as the Magnificent Seven, which is a pleasant coincidence) of the carriage dozed, confident in their ability to handle any trouble in these parts with their eyes closed.

People stopped to stare as the carriage moved slowly on through the ramshackle town. This was not the Seven’s destination. Children stared wide-eyed at the silhouettes of the carriage’s inhabitants. Several young ones burst into tears and were shushed quickly by the adults. The ancient phrase ‘Kai Valagi’ was whispered between the townsfolk with a mixture of fear and awe. An uneasy quiet descended, punctuated only by the irregular clucking of hens, and the even clop of the horses’ steel shod hooves. Cookfires smoked unattended, and a sudden gust of wind sent a small (and unlikely) tumbleweed barrelling down the road. As the carriage reached the far edge of the village without slowing, tension trickled out of the shoulders of the locals, and life resumed with naught but a shadow of the carriage’s passage remaining.

The road narrowed now, as mountains reared up into sharp crags of fantastically formed rock on one side and the ocean lapped hungrily on the other. Following the contours of the land, the road led the Seven inexorably forward. They were drawing near. Light began to fade from the sky, colour bleeding into the heavens above the mountains whilst the ocean grew darker and more malicious, hurling itself violently against the crumbling sea wall. A stiff breeze flew from the ocean, whistling and wheezing through the cracks in the carriage, ruffling the horses’ manes as they pulled the Seven ever onwards.

As pink streaks of dusky cloud ran across the sky, masking the first stars as they appeared, the carriage entered Levuka. A dilapidated factory cast a baleful shadow across the road, but the Seven (and their horses) ignored it, their eyes fixed firmly on the goal ahead. A dog, nothing more than skin and bone and fleas, yapped ineffectually as the carriage rolled past.

The track widened into a proper road, lined on one side by weatherbeaten clapboard buildings and a rotting seawall on the other. In daylight the buildings were brightly coloured, but in the dim of evening they may as well have been decaying husks from a long-forgotten civilisation. The town was dead. The buildings were dark, shut up tight, and nothing but the wind could be heard as it whistled and whispered through buildings and trees alike. It was obvious that the magnificence of the Seven would not be questioned this night.

The Magnificent Seven (minus one)

The carriage came to a halt outside a sprawling homestead, an island of light and sound in a sea of near darkness. The Seven disembarked. As one, they made their way towards the entrance, their equipment clinking menacingly against their persons. Inside, lights burned warmly and conversation hovered quietly around lace-clothed tablecloths. Then, like the buzz of a fly whose life is cut short by the flick and the crack of the flyswat, everything ceased as the batwing doors were flung open. Seven Magnificent silhouettes flung lengthy shadows behind them, and silence hemorrhaged  out of them and into the saloon. The leader dropped coin on the counter sharply, eyes glinting dangerously, and the troupe of gunslingers were led to a simple but clean room reminiscent of the dormitory in Madeleine. A massacre of bedevilled mosquitoes ensued, leaving townsfolk trembling in fear and insect carcasses littering the floor.

After a quiet (and menacing, always menacing) night of food and drink, the best in these parts, the Magnificent Seven woke with the town and left their lodging. Word of the Seven’s presence in Levuka had clearly spread, for even in daylight hours, the town remained deserted. Several individuals scurried past, heads bowed, as the Seven walked the town, fingers hovering over their holsters, eyes roaming and hungry. Whilst their bloodlust was not satiated, their appetites were, with a simple lunch of breakfast crackers, tomato and cheese. As they sheltered from the noonday sun under the eaves of the first ever MH store, fondness for this town grew in their hearts. They vowed to return someday to take more sustenance from Whales Tales Saloon, annihilate more mosquitoes at New Mavida Lodge, and duel any and all who would threaten Levuka’s peace. It is, after all, a Crime Free Town.

There were no horses.

Crossover Episode

Every mediocre show has one: an episode where two TV shows produced by the same people collide in an attempt to reignite tepid storylines and weak characters. Some examples include NCIS and NCIS: LA (I make no apologies, those shows are fairly dreadful, and let’s not forget when they tried to add a bit of JAG into the mix early on), and of course all those CSI super episodes.

Just like TV shows, blogs too can suffer from recycled material and overused plot devices. Fortunately, I was recently given the perfect opportunity to vent the stale air that’s been building around my cyberspace fortress through my very own crossover. Did you just get goosebumps? You can almost taste the high quality production values, can’t you?

"Production Value!"

 

My old supervisor, referred to henceforth as Filet (myself and another co-worker were affectionately known as her minions) from the Company Which Shall Not Be Named was in Suva doing a bit of scoping for some future development projects, and I was fortunate enough to catch up with her over the course of a weekend. It was pretty exciting having my very first visitor come to Suva almost within a month of me moving here. This was further compounded by the fact that because Filet was here for work, she had an allowance (and a generous spirit), which allowed me to eat like a king for a couple of days at no personal expense. And what food! Eggs Benedict for breakfast (reunited at last!), a mouthwatering burger with one of the most delicious ground beef patties I’ve ever consumed, and let’s not forget the cubes of deep fried cheddar cheese.

It wasn’t all take though. I gave my time, my energy, and my knowledge of Suva, and bundled it into quite an entertaining and refreshingly humourous package. And come on, I even went to Pure Fiji, some factory that makes soap and all manner of smelly stuff. If that’s not a sacrifice, I don’t know what is. But now that I’ve brought you up to speed with what’s going on this week on Steveinfeej, we can move on now to the Western edge of the Pacific, where a second blog exists and will shortly intrude upon life here in Fiji.

Introducing www.frogsfordarcy.blogspot.com. The blog was created by Filet with the truly admirable goal of entertaining a very ill kid living in Sydney. Darcy is the son of my and Filet’s old boss from the Company Which Shall Not Be Named, and has been seriously sick for well over a year now. He’s been in and out of hospital frequently during that time (more in than out in recent months), and there isn’t much for him to do other than be poked at and prodded by doctors. Filet, ever the philanthropist, began the above blog to entertain Darcy during his quarantined hospital stays, and attempts to post pictures and stories of origami frogs, one of Darcy’s favourite things, as frequently as possible.

Like NCIS and NCIS: LA, you can probably guess where this is going. Also like NCIS, you’re probably disappointed that this isn’t shaping up to be as exciting as the ads made it out to be.

That’s right, Filet brought an origami frog with her, and what followed was a very exciting weekend for said frog. It’s a little sad to think that thanks to Filet, that frog is almost as well-travelled as I am. However, in a shocking plot twist, that was not the only companion Filet brought with her to the Feej. Our old team’s mascot, known affectionately as Wooden Rob despite the fact she is very clearly a woman (with a tattoo no less, shocking), also joined our adventures. Given the fact that she has only one leg (one of many unforeseen consequences of the Company Which Shall Not Be Named downsizing my section), Wooden Rob’s visit was very timely, considering my current work in the disability sector.

As with all crossovers, the episode must end and the two blogs will go their separate ways. Viewers will have learnt something new about the characters, but not so much that that they won’t tune in next week to learn some more, and hopefully see one or two well-timed explosions used solely to keep the stale plot interesting. Unlike NCIS, this crossover episode does have a message. Several, actually. One: my old supervisor is a little crazy. Two: I apparently enjoy posing with wooden dolls. And Three: there is a very brave boy living in Sydney who, despite experiencing a heck of a lot of pain over the last year, is able to remain positive and hopeful thanks to a wonderful support network of family and friends. Darcy, it’s not often that young people inspire old fogeys like me, but your bravery and stoicism in light of what you’re going through is nothing short of amazing. You have many people thinking of you, and now some of those people live in Fiji. We're sending sunshine and well wishes your way!

Disclaimer: yes, I actually did work whilst employed by the Company That Shall Not Be Named. Our antics with Wooden Rob in no way affected management’s decision to downsize a vibrant and incredibly competent team of passionate individuals. No matter what my Dad says.