@Barebower       © 2022

Happy hour was buzzing
as he drove her through the gate.
The ‘van park pool was five rows deep
and Clancy was running late.

The ‘cruiser was a heaving
from the arid outback tow.
The air-conditioner struggling
from the lack of any flow.

Now, Clancy wasn’t new to this.
He’d done his share of tows.
But something in the air this day
foretold a tale of woe.

The corellas all were screeching
as his wife got in the car.
“Reception wasn’t happy”,
she said to his alarm.

“There’s no more bloody drive-throughs”,
as they fought to keep their calm.
“They’ve put us down on fifty-three”,
She muttered in alarm.

The pool folk’s eyes were opened wide
as Clancy eased her in.
The boom gate code was fumbled
as he cleared and tried again.

The pool folk turned to watch them,
as he drove the ‘van park track.
Fifty-three was waiting,
for their imminent attack.

His wife turned on her handset,
As he swung the van around.
“You’re on the wrong bloody channel!”,
He shouted at the ground.

The big van’s springs were creaking,
As he threw her in reverse.
“Your stupid bloody hand-brakes on!”,
She threw him like a curse.

With hand-brake off he began to move,
The pool folk held their breath.
“Left hand down, LEFT HAND DOWN!”,
Her voice was cold as death.

Now fifty-three was a little tight,
and wasn’t all that flat.
It had a mighty drop-off,
and trees both sides at that.

Clancy wasn’t overwhelmed,
he’d done this all before.
His wife was all a tremble,
as her fear came to the fore.

“I’m on full lock you silly moo!”
“I can’t turn anymore.”
She held her tongue and held her breath,
He hadn’t closed the door.

“You need to stop! You’ll break the door!”
She screamed into the mike.
“Will you shut up! I’m on the edge!”
He threw back at his wife.

The van went left, the van went right.
The pool folk all inhaled.
The car began to shudder.
The pool folk sipped their ales.

The mighty van was scraping
on the left and on the right.
The trees were scratched and bleeding
as the drop-off came in sight.

“You need to stop! YOU NEED TO STOP!”,
She waved her hands around.
The ‘cruiser’s brakes were straining
on the rough, uneven ground.

By now the pool was filling up,
and bets were being laid.
As Clancy swung the van around
and backed into the shade.

The drop-off reared up thick and fast.
The wheels were getting closer.
As fifty-three began to show
it’s nasty side below her.

“STOP… STOP… STOP!!!”, she yelled again
as Clancy stayed his course.
The big van lurched and began to buck
like an angry rodeo horse.

“I’m tryin’ to stop!”, he shouted back.
“The brakes are barely holding!”
“Chock it quick!”, he yelled some more.
By now she wasn’t listening.

“Get ‘em in!”, he yelled and screamed.
The van’s suspension groaning.
“I can’t!”, she said “It’s too far gone!”
The cruiser’s brakes were moaning.

More bets were laid, the pool folk cheered.
Advice was in the offering.
Clancy pulled with all his might…
The van was teeter-totting.

Fifty-three would have it’s way.
The van was going over.
With one last gasp his wife screamed out,
“Get out and hit the clover!”

Clancy knew he wasn’t beat...
Through gritted teeth he set his jaw and threw it into low..
He planted his foot and gripped the wheel
and revved as high as she’d go.

The van went south, the cruiser north
and there ensued the struggle.
The pool folk sank another beer
and the caretakers joined the huddle.

The brake-safe snapped, the chains still held,
the cables all a tangle.
His wife peered out and had a look,
“You’re still on a bloody angle!”

Clancy couldn’t admit defeat
and threw a sideways sneer.
The pool folk gasped and looked away
from Clancy’s poisonous stare.

“I’ll get you straight and line you up!”
“You mother effing prick!”
As Clancy slowly centred himself
and lightly grabbed the stick.

The wheel was damp, the seat was wet,
The engine running hot.
The chains were all but holding
As he gave it one last shot.

Fifty-three was holding on,
the van was barely hitched.
As Clancy gunned her one last time
to avoid the dreaded ditch.

Now somewhere in this sunburnt land
the campers all have fun.
The kiddies play, the kooka’s laugh
and there’s peace beneath the sun.

But not on van site fifty-three.
The pool folk are not cheering.
For Clancy, mighty Clancy,
Had finally lost his steering.