Diamantina Drover - Chapter One -

Story by Cederwyn Whitefurr on SoFurry

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The Diamantina Drover Chapter One - Unfriendly Meetings (c) Cederwyn Whitefurr Revised and expanded, 28th November, 2012 All Rights Reserved

Sobbing, the young Gazelle Anthro clutched the old, cracked and fading picture to her chest, hugging it tightly against her, as she raised her tear streaked face and looked out at the torrential summer storm that pummelled the countryside. Brilliant flashes of lightning lit the dark skies, and the hissing rain thundered against the corrugated steel roof of the old Queenslander homestead, a chilling breeze blew fine wisps of rain in onto her tear-stained cheeks, as she let the tears fall unheeded. Her name was Angelica, and she wept without shame, for nobody was there to laugh at her; nobody was there to tell her to act more mature; nobody was there at all. She wept bitter tears, for the one who had shown her the glories of this wide, brown land - the man she had come to know only as...

The Diamantina Drover....

*

He had been a human of already incredible age, and Angelica had theorised, he had been at least eighty years of age; his face weathered by a life spent under the merciless Queensland sun. He was wrinkled and dry looking, almost as if the hot summers had sucked the moisture from his body, leaving him a desiccated husk. He wore an old akubra hat, perched on his pale, gossamer thin threads of hair that remained, and his frail looking form was clothed in well worn long sleeved shirt and dusty, patched trousers; the seat of which was shiny from a lifetime spent in the saddle, and his feet enfolded in well oiled and maintained dark riding boots.

*

As the whistle pealed forth and the old steam train began to pull away from the station, the young Gazelle looked shyly up and down the platform, standing there in the Queensland sun, her two suitcases at her hooves. Nervously, she looked around again, unsure what to expect, but knowing that her Grandfather was amongst her her last surviving relatives - and her only hope. Angelica had never met him, or even seen a photograph of him - but considering the life she had left behind her in Sydney...anything...would be better than that.

*

Or so she had thought

*

A human station-hand moved past her, pushing a platform trolley with two large boxes on it, and he never gave her a second glance; creatures like her were uncommon, but nothing to write home about. Angelica bit her hoof-paw claw tip nervously, and she glanced fearfully back up and down the nearly deserted platform, her heart thudding in her furred chest and eyes wide with the rising fear that steadily consumed her.

"Can I help you Miss?" Spoke a voice.

Angelica squealed and jumped nervously, her head swinging sharply around to face the voice. Tears sprang up in her eyes, and she began to cry helplessly, like a scolded fawn.

"Miss? are you okay?" Asked the elderly Stationmaster, as he gazed at her with concern, then down at her suitcases, then back at her. "Come on - its okay, I'll get the Porter to make you a nice cup of tea. It'll all be alright, come on..."

Angelica followed on shaking legs, her hooves clicking against the platform, as the Stationmaster led her into his office and sat her gently down in the chair. Giving the Porter a glance, the Stationmaster pulled up another chair and gently took the shaking Doe's paw in his hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

"Whats your name Miss?" He asked, his voice soft and gentle.

"I...I'm Angelica - " Angelica stammered, then dabbed at her eyes with her hoof-paw.

"Here - " He smiled in a friendly fashion, then handed her a box of tissues from the corner of his desk. "Its okay, there's no need to be afraid, we're here to help you."

Gratefully taking a tissue, Angelica dabbed at her eyes again and then blew her nose.

"Now - Miss, it'd be rude of me to call you your first name," Spoke the Stationmaster. "I'm Glen - Stationmaster here at Saddlers Crossing. Now - try to calm down, as we'll do all we can, to help you. You've obviously come a long way, and had little sleep I bet."

Angelica nodded and dried her eyes again. "I...I came from Sydney...."

Glen's eyes widened, and he lent back in his chair and pushed back the cap on his head. "That is a long way!" He remarked with a soft whistle. "Now, obviously you're here to meet someone?"

"I - " Angelica began.

"So you are my Grand-daughter?" Snorted a voice from the doorway. "A god-damned morph...."

"Sir!" Greg grated out, as he rose to his feet. "Please - this young lady - "

"That's no lady - " Snarled the old man, as he hawked and spat onto the floor. "She is a god-damned freak, an abomination, who should have had its neck wrung!"

"Grandfather?" Squeaked Angelica, her eyes widening and ears flattening.

"I ain't your Grandfather - " Growled the old man. "No man in his right mind would call a beast his kin... Well - time's a wasting Missy - get your tail into gear, I don't have all day to play nurse-maid to some wet-behind-the-ears stripling of a Fawn!"

"Sir - you will address her as you would me, she has just as much right to that as I do myself." Greg spoke, obviously trying to keep his rising anger under control.

"Boy? Listen to me - the day I accept a morph as human, is the day I'll have the almighty personally come and kiss my wrinkled ass-cheeks. Now, get with the moving Fawn, I don't have all day - already I've wasted more time here than I wish."

Angelica sniffled and ran past the Stationmaster and old man, who sized up the Stationmaster and snorted in contempt.

"You had no right - " Growled Geoffrey angrily, as he started into the hard, flinty eyes of the old man before him.

"I got every god-damned right!" Snarled the old man in response. "She's supposedly my grand-daughter - a grand-daughter I haven't ever seen - and she's a god-damned morph! Christ-on-a-crutch, whose cereal did I piss in, to deserve this?"

As he turned away, Geoffrey laid a hand on the old man's shoulder. Without a glance, the old man sighed and spoke quietly, his voice all too clear.

"Son - take my advice. It ain't worth it. I'm probably fifty years your senior, at least - but if you want to step outside and settle this like a man, we can do that. I promise you, I'll hit you so hard and fast, you'll think a train ran over you. I was in the Great War boy, and I was chewing out harder-asses than yours, under conditions that you'll never be able to even guess at. So take just one piece of advice - stick to your own affairs...and don't come meddling in those that have nothing to do with you. I got good working dog's, that mean more to me than that morph...but she's family - wether I like it or not...I'm stuck with her. If you think you're man enough though - step outside, and we'll settle this discussion like men!"

Geoffrey's hand fell off the old man's shoulder and the old man grunted and spat onto the floor.

"Wise choice son - you might just have a brain in that head of yours after all. This is between me and her, so you mind your own business." Whispered the old man, as he walked out, the screen door slamming closed behind him with a loud thud.

*

In silence, they drove back to his farmstead, the Gazelle's eyes misty with unshed tears, the old man cursing like a shearer as he fought the old clunker of a truck, and its penchant for wanting to go bush. At last, they stopped outside the closed and chained farm gate, and the old man turned to stare at the Doe. She blinked and flicked a nervous look at him, then he merely snorted in disgust and spat out the window, before climbing down and slamming the door hard enough to make her cry out in pain, her sensitive ears ringing. He unchained the gate, then pushed it open and walked back to the truck and clambered aboard. With a string of vile curses and oaths, he slammed the truck into gear with a sickening crunch of gears, then they rattled their way across the cattle-grid and up the rutted road beyond. With another string of colourful invectives, the old man clambered back out and closed and chained the gate, then returned to the truck. Angelica started to wonder, just what she had gotten herself into....

*

Later that night, the old man sat at the dinner table, and Angelica carried out the large serving platter, then set a large bowl down before him.

"What the fuck you call this?" He roared, slamming his fist down on the table and making the Gazelle squeal in terror. "What the fuck..."

"Grandfather - I'm a vegetarian, and I thought - " She squealed, cowering back away from him.

"I ain't your Grandfather, and don't you call me that - you fucking misbegotten whore!" He thundered, leaping to his feet and shaking a fist at her. "and I sure as shit don't eat no fucking lucern, like some cow! Call this a dinner? This isn't fit for a mongrel dog!"

Angelica burst into tears, and cowered even more, as he old man continued to verbally assault her.

"I...I can make you something else - " Angelica wept.

"Get the fuck out of my sight - " He snarled at her. "Go on - get!"

Angelica wailed and fled the dining room, then there came the loud crash of her bedroom door slamming closed. He paced the room in agitation, then looked down at the bowl of salad and threw it across the room as well, before storming out up the hallway and walking out onto the large veranda that ran around the house. Here, he threw himself down into an old, cracked wicker chair and pulled out his tobacco pouch. Rolling himself a cigarette, he flicked it into his mouth and struck a match, then lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. Even as the first puffs made him cough and retch with deep, convulsive hacks, he only spat over the railing and scowled.

"Jesus Fucking Christ - " He spoke to himself. "My Grand-daughter - is a fucking Anthropomorphic Gazelle! Ah, Marion - if only you were still alive, you'd take my side...we don't need no god-cursed freaking hybrid's in our family...."

*

As if answering him the distant thunderstorm rumbled ominously on the horizon.

*

Leaning back in his chair, the old man grunted and took another deep pull on his cigarette, then dropped it onto the wooden deck and crushed it beneath his boot, before he rose and lent on the railing, looking out over the farmstead. Shaking his grey haired head slowly, he turned and walked back inside, letting the screen door slam closed behind him with a loud crash....

***

TO BE CONTINUED