Love Ya Work

By Clancy Tucker

This is a collection of Clancy’s short stories, bush poetry and anecdotes from a ‘Life on the run’. Many of the stories are based on true-life. So, get in, buckle up and hold on. This book will make you laugh and cry.
Clancy Tucker is an award-winning author, photographer, poet and screenwriter who writes young adult fiction. He has lived in four countries, speaks three languages, has photography published in the USA, photographic work registered with the International Library of Photography, and included in literary magazines. He has also written more than 140 short stories and an anthology of bush poetry.
Clancy’s been short-listed, commended and highly-commended in many writing contests, and had short stories and poems published in literary magazines. He has been a political speechwriter, public servant, farmer and vocal advocate for human rights, social justice and independent authors. Clancy has worked with street kids, currently mentors aspiring writers, and draws on life’s experiences to write stories for young adults.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Morris Publishing Australia
• Release date: Jan 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9780994601001

Clancy Tucker

Clancy writes young adult fiction for reluctant readers, but has also achieved success as a poet and photographer. He has lived in four countries, speaks three languages. He has been short-listed and highly commended in writing contests: 2006 & 2007 National Literary Awards, Raspberry & Vine (twice), Positive words, Australian Writers On-Line, Shaggy Sheep Tale, The Cancer Council Arts Awards (2005 & 2008), The Dusty Swag Awards (2010) and had ten short stories published in literary magazines (Page Seventeen, Branching Out & Positive Words), newspapers (The Standard, Mountain Views & The Advocate), written articles for Kid Magazine in the USA and won a poetry prize to name a life-size statue designed by renowned Belgian sculptor, Bruno Torfs. In 2010, he was awarded a two-week mentorship by the National Education & Employment Foundation. He is now a full time writer but has been a speechwriter, public servant, farmer, and small business operator. Clancy has worked with street kids and draws on life’s experiences to write entertaining stories for kids.

Book preview

LOVE YA WORK

By

Clancy Tucker

Clancy Tucker Publishing

Books by Clancy Tucker

Gunnedah Hero

‘Highly Commended’ – FAW Jim Hamilton Award, 2007 Australian National Literary Awards

‘Commended’ – FAW Christina Stead Award, 2011 Australian

National Literary Awards

A Drover’s Blanket (Sequel to Gunnedah Hero)

Pa Joe’s Place

KY!

‘Highly Commended’ - FAW Jim Hamilton Award, 2006 Australian National Literary Awards

Sheeza

Mister Rainbow

‘Kick-Ass’ Tyler

Bold Journey

Irish Gold

Clancy Tucker’s books are available from:

www.clancytucker.blogspot.com.au

www.morrispublishingaustralia.com

Contact at:

www.clancytucker.com.au

LOVE YA WORK

By

Clancy Tucker

Clancy Tucker Publishing

A collection of short stories,

bush poems and personal anecdotes

from Clancy’s life on the run.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Clancy Tucker asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or be transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Smashword edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords or the retailer from whom this copy was purchased and buy your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

First published in 2017 by Clancy Tucker Publishing

ABN: 70442136657

Copyright © Clancy Lawson Tucker 2017

Photography copyright © Clancy Lawson Tucker 2017.

National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication (CIP)

‘Love Ya Work!’ by Clancy Tucker

ISBN: 978-0-9946010-0-1

1st Edition

Dewey Number: A 823.4

A collection of short stories, bush poetry and personal anecdotes.

Preface

This book is dedicated to all those who have had the fortune, or misfortune, of running into me at some stage in your life. When I first started to write seriously, and I mean really seriously, I began writing short stories for enjoyment. Then, I began to enter them in writing contests. Some won prizes; others never even cracked a mention. Such is the life of a writer, eh? Suck it up and push on has always been my motto.

So, what did I write about? Good question. I guess the first things that popped into my mind were real life experiences; those odd, humorous and often serious situations in which we all find ourselves from time to time. I have often said, ‘Some people see more in a walk around the block than others do in a trip around the world’. It’s true. I’ve also said, ‘There are travellers, and then there are travellers’. Some see things that others miss. It’s all about perception; a bit like the old saying, ‘Is the glass half-empty or half-full’, or ‘Did you see the hole or the doughnut?’

What you see as you go through life and how you handle it is born in you, but also influenced by personal experiences. You do not learn it in books. Fortunately, I’ve always been a curious bloke who went to those places that most people shunned. Why, because I perceived that they just might be interesting, and I might grab a few photographs that would look sensational hanging on my wall at home. Being a keen photographer has often been the catalyst that provided an extraordinary personal learning. That split second when you are peering through the lens of a camera, seconds before you press the button, is a very private moment. You share it with no one else.

Travelling around the world and living in other countries has been wonderful. I call it the ‘University of Life’. Money spent on travel is money never wasted. The people I have met, and what I have seen and experienced, has certainly made me more aware as a human being. Those experiences and travels have also equipped me to be a far better writer / storyteller / author / poet. No question.

Some of these stories are very short; others are much longer. The shorter stories are anecdotes that I have often included in a newspaper editorial that I write every month. They are snippets of things that have happened over the years as I’ve travelled; relating to meaningful people and events. Reading these stories will tell you a lot about the man behind the words. As a Human Rights activist and Social Justice campaigner for many decades, my philosophies about life will be obvious in these stories, as they are in all of my books. As I often say, ‘Life’s short … Use it … There is plenty to do.’

Some of the anecdotes have sometimes been included in my daily blog which now goes to 158 countries, and includes all sorts of stuff; especially interviews with people from around the globe: Illustrators, writers, poets, authors, Human Rights lawyers, photographers, members of the Judiciary, artists, singers, musicians, teenagers and senior citizens; even a man on death row. Check it out: www.clancytucker.blogspot.com.au

Having said all that, the stories contained in this book are as diverse as the characters mentioned within them. I hope you enjoy them. Maybe you will see yourself in a few of them.

Oh, the title, ‘Love Ya Work!’ is an expression I have become famous for. Hopefully, when you finish this collection, you might say, ‘Love ya work, Clancy … Love ya work!’ I guess an author can’t ask for much more than that, eh?

Clancy Tucker

www.clancytucker.com.au

The Five-Dollar Circus

A short story

I must have been no more than six-years-of-age when my father took me to my first circus. Times were tough in those days, money was scarce, and jobs even harder to find. Luckily, my father had a reasonable job, but he had big commitments as well. At least we owned a car; albeit an old but reliable vehicle. There were five kids in our family, plus Nan, who’d lived with us since Pop had died.

Living in a rural community was fabulous, with so many different things to do: rolling in the hay, riding our pushbike for miles, trying to catch wild birds, and fishing in dams for yabbies. However, other than the local movie theatre, there wasn’t much in the way of formal entertainment that ever graced our small town. The Agricultural Show was the only social highlight for children. It was the one event where every kid could enter some contest. The first year, I entered the Best Pet contest, I won it. That was amazing. I entered Nan’s favourite rooster. Most mothers and grandmothers entered the cooking and preserves competitions, but there were things for the men as well. When Pop was alive, he used to win heaps of prizes for his vegies, and Dad always entered the woodchop.

Regular dances were held in the Mechanics Hall, but we considered them to be grown-ups entertainment anyway. While our parents chatted and danced, all of us ran amok, waiting for food to be served. Supper at those dances was fantastic, especially when Mrs Gamble brought her pancakes, or old Mrs Stone made one of her special sponges. It seemed like a long wait for supper, but it was worth it when we saw all the food laid out on long trestles.

When news came to hand that a real live circus would be in town, every child hoped and prayed that their parents could take them. If people couldn’t afford the live performance, they could at least walk amongst the animals and soak up the atmosphere. To see wild animals from far-away places like Africa, and view the lifestyle of itinerant people who lived in caravans and travelled the countryside, was enchanting. Our small farming community was fairly isolated, so a circus was a big deal in those days. The nearest city was a good hundred miles away, only visited for specialist medical treatment, or some other important reason.

Being the eldest child, my father had promised to take me to the upcoming circus as a treat, and I vividly recall feeling really special when he pulled me aside and told me. Looking back, I think it was Dad’s way of spending quality time with his eldest son. Nowadays, they’d probably call it secret men’s business, or some other politically correct term.

The hairs rose on the back of my neck every time I saw one of the circus posters pasted to a billboard, or nailed to a power pole. It was a strange feeling, like the feeling you get just before your birthday, or on Christmas Eve when you go to bed full of expectations, but can’t sleep from excitement.

Finally, the big day arrived. Dad had planned to attend the afternoon session, wanting to go early so we could stroll around and observe the exotic animals. He’d always loved tigers. Maybe that's why he’d supported the Tigers Rugby Team. I can remember more than one photograph of tigers in our family home as a child. The biggest one hung above our fireplace in the living room and took pride of place. Dad used to look at it and make a growling sound that came from deep in his throat.

‘Grr,’ he’d say, then he’d wink at us. We don’t know how he managed to do it, but we all loved to hear that noise. It sounded so real.

Happily, we strolled to the local recreation oval, and spotted others with similar aspirations. Two of my best mates could not afford to attend, but they wished me well as we passed their house. They’d already been to see the animals, but I deliberately held off so I could savour it with dad. That wasn’t an easy decision to make, but I hung out and waited, convinced that it would make our circus visit more enjoyable. I was right. Dad was as excited as I was and, on the way, he told me that he’d never been to a live circus performance. Sure, he’d seen circus animals before, but he’d never had sufficient funds to enter the Big Top and watch the performances.

We finally arrived, and what a sight it was. I’d never seen such a big tent, and we must have spent a good hour just strolling around, admiring animals that sat peacefully chewing their cud. However, the lions paced up and down their cage as if they wanted to get out and eat us alive. My father was enthralled by the large cats, but I was scared stiff. I kept glancing at the door of the lion’s cage to ensure that the padlock had been locked properly. Unlike Dad, I preferred the camels and small ponies. Those camels were amazing beasts, and I kept staring at their humps, wondering how they could travel for so long in a desert without water.

Eventually, it was time to line up to venture inside and watch trapeze artists, lion tamers, the antics of clowns, and other exciting acts. There was quite a crowd. Some folks had come from far and wide; many I’d never seen before. Standing in front of us was a new family who’d just moved into the district. Mum had spoken about them weeks before, so I knew they had three children. They’d arrived in town at the commencement of the school holidays, but I’d not seen any of their kids, nor taken much interest in their arrival. They were renting the run-down old Hamilton home on the edge of town, and not much was known of them. However, I knew that would change in time as locals made it their business to find out all they could about them. Rural townships were always like that. I wasn’t all that curious about the new folks in town. I’d been too busy helping my father with odd jobs, often going to work with him, or trying to tease those swooper magpies down near our school with my two best mates; not to mention our yabby enterprise at Swenson’s Dam.

The line slowly edged forward. As we patiently waited, I looked at the family in front of us. They seemed like decent people, but they looked poor. There were two girls and a boy, and their clothes were frayed, probably wearing ‘hand-me-downs’ which was common in those days. The young boy wore shoes that had certainly seen better days, but at least they were highly-polished. Having polished shoes was something Dad always instilled in us. I recall feeling shy and uncomfortable when one of the girls often glanced at me. I tried to look unaffected by her cute smiles, but I’m sure I must have blushed. She was around my age, and sure was pretty, with beautiful blonde hair and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Every now and then I managed to catch an occasional sly glimpse of her when she wasn’t looking. God, she was pretty.

When we finally made it closer to the ticket office, something happened that I never forgot. We could hear every word that was said. The man in front of us must have miscalculated the cost of the tickets, and Dad and I watched as the man stood and re-counted his money a second time. Sadly, he had insufficient funds to cover the entrance fee. I looked away and felt so sorry for him; even sadder for his children who waited patiently; no doubt hoping and praying that their father would solve the problem.

Suddenly, I felt an arm on my shoulder and looked up to find Dad smiling at me. In his hand was the five-dollar note that he’d saved for our trip to the circus. Dad didn’t say a word, but when he winked at me and grinned, I read his thoughts and smiled proudly. Seconds later, he bent down and pretended to pick something up.

‘Excuse me, matey. You must have dropped this five-dollar note on the ground,’ said Dad, offering our five-dollar bill to the man who stared at my father with a look of bewilderment.

‘I … I don’t think so,’ he replied.

Dad was so sharp in those situations, and thrust the money at him. ‘Yeah, sure. I saw it drop … Here.’ The man looked blankly at his wife and his children, then he shook my dad’s hand with a knowing look; the type of look that requires no explanation.

The family paid their entry fee, but we were left standing at the ticket office with no money.

Thinking quickly, I grabbed Dad’s hand. ‘Come on, Dad. Let’s have a real good look at those tigers again.’ My father grinned and patted me on the head. As we slowly strolled to the tiger’s cage, I looked back at the Big Top and saw the man staring at us. His beautiful daughter was waving to me, wearing a grateful smile. To be honest, I wasn’t all that upset. No, I was just glad to be with my father. Sadly, he’d still not managed to enter the Big Top. I so wanted him to see the performances, but we had a great time together and must have spent ages observing those wild animals.

The next day was a Sunday. Around lunchtime, there was a loud knock at the door. I was closest so naturally I opened it; stunned to see the young girl I’d seen at the circus. She was standing alongside her father. In his hands were a large bunch of flowers and a bag of potatoes. Sitting at his feet was a wooden crate full of vegetables, and the young girl was holding a homemade pie that smelt delicious. Fortunately, my father appeared on the scene, and thank God he did. I was starting to feel shy and uncomfortable in the presence of the beautiful girl.

Dad opened the fly-wire door, smiled and greeted them. ‘Hello.’

‘G’day. Bill Timmins is my name. This is my daughter Kim. We … We just wanted to express our gratitude for yesterday. We don’t have much, but thought you might like some fresh produce.’

My father didn’t hesitate and shook the man’s hand firmly. ‘Gosh. Thanks. Good to meet you. I’m Jack … Jack Smothers,’ said Dad. ‘Jessie!’ he hollered down the hallway, and Mum soon arrived, wiping flour-covered hands on her apron. My parents then did something that didn’t surprise me. They invited the family to stay for lunch.

That was a fabulous Sunday roast, and the apple pie was delicious. While the adults talked about grown-up things, I enjoyed listening to Kim Timmins as she told me what happened under the Big Top. I was curious, but I also wanted to tell Dad what he’d missed out on. Kim was not only beautiful. She was also smart. She knew what my father had done. I guess that’s why she gave him a big hug when they left.

Dad reckoned it was the best five-dollars he’d ever spent, and I agreed with him.

A Stranger

An anecdote from the ‘Land of Smiles’ - Thailand

I’ve had an amazing Asian love affair with South East Asia since the early 1970’s, having learnt the Thai language, met some great people, and taken an extraordinary amount of photographs throughout South East