Shane was in the second group; Leon recognised his neighbour’s bony bum and workman’s cleavage. Balanced and relaxed, Shane cut his wheels quickly and accurately, leaving small piles of sawdust on the ground. Wendy was watching with the kids; Suzie had her hands over her ears to block out the noise. When Shane won first prize—a meat tray donated by the butcher—he sidled over to give it to Wendy, but she turned away. Leon overheard Shane pleading with her. ‘Come on, Wendy. It’s for you. I want to come home.’

She cast him a glare that would have stopped a truck. ‘Give it to Liz. It’ll help pay your board.’

‘Wouldn’t have to pay board if you’d let me come home.’

‘Should have thought about that before you killed those poor pups.’

Leon caught Max’s eye and waved, and the boy waved back. He seemed to be having a good time: hot-dog in one hand, phone in the other. He slouched over.

‘Hey, Max,’ Leon said. ‘This is my grandpa.’

‘Hi.’ Max bit into his hot-dog.

‘Any good’ Leon asked.

The boy shrugged. ‘Not enough sauce.’

‘This is the boy who gave me Bonnie,’ Leon told Grandpa.

‘Ah, yes.’ Grandpa squinted at Max. ‘You look like a boy who knows about dogs.’

Max puffed up proudly. ‘She’s a good dog, isn’t she? I’m trying to train her.’

‘Just as well,’ Grandpa said. ‘A dog’s no good unless it’s obedient.’

‘We’re making progress—aren’t we, Max?’ Leon winked at the boy.

Max nodded. ‘She knows how to sit now. And I’m trying to teach her to drop.’

‘Come is the most important command,’ Grandpa said. ‘Come or I’ll give you a hiding.’

Max looked confused. ‘She won’t come if she’s scared.’

Grandpa nudged Leon. ‘See. I told you he’s clever.’

A roar of voices from across the field distracted Leon. ‘What’s going on over there?’

Max glanced in the direction of the noise. ‘Truck Pull. I’d better go. I want to see Toby and Mooney.’ He took off on skinny stick legs.

Leon and Grandpa ambled across the field to join the crowd. Robbo’s Kenworth was in the ring with Toby, Mooney and Shane standing in front of it, a thick rope hooked across their chests. When the starter gave the signal, the men started pulling, heads down as they leaned into the load. Heaving and grunting, they eventually shifted the truck off the start mark and dragged it ten metres, eyes bulging. At the finish line, Robbo was waiting; he punched the air and slapped the men on their backs.

Grandpa was shaking his head. ‘The things people do for a prize.’

After that, Leon and Grandpa watched draught horses pulling a truck. Then they watched a tree-climber shimmy up a tall timber pole.