Throwing the Light On Birth

I was out of work in thirty-three and forced to take the road, not really looking forward toward the tramping swaggy code, and as luck had it, just by chance, I no longer had to hike, ‘cause parked outside a doctor’s house - was my brand new bike. I was far better off now I had got this travelling mode. I could quickly visit stations pedalling down the road. But begging at the doors and getting damper and some tea, after slaving in the hot sun was not the life for me. I started learning little tricks from others on the track, to look for ‘swaggy’ signs that meant - ‘this mob’ll break your back’, or piles of stones just near the gate; a welcome sign to read, knowing that a ‘sundowner’ can drop in for a welcome feed. And so I sat beside a billabong waiting for the sun to set, as I had targeted a homestead for my appetite to whet. I jumped upon my bike and started pedalling to the door, where I heard this frantic calling and wondered what’s in store. This bloke was running ‘round in circles, and he’s trying to say, that his missus is in labour and their baby’s on its way. He tried to get the doctor, but the doctor’s gone on strike. He’s helping p’lice inquiries ‘cause some mongrel stole his bike. “Oh mate” he says, “Oh mate please help, I’m in an awful plight.” “It may help a bit” I’m saying back “If you turn on the light.” “I know, I know” he grabs his hair, “I know what you bloody mean, but I can’t light the lantern ‘cause I’ve got no kerosene.” So in the dark we stood there with birth provoked distractions. Blood curdling screams destroyed the quiet with ever-close contractions, so we sat the bike upon some blocks, then set the dynamo. At least there’ll be a form of light even if it’s burning low. I went to throw my leg across the cross bar and the seat, “Hang on!” this fella’ said to me, and near knocked me off my feet. “I can’t deliver my own baby, for that you need a bit of skill. Let me do the pedalling” - and suddenly I’m feeling ill. But there’s no time for arguments; I made sure his wife was right. I had him pedalling like fury just to give a brighter light, then a lump came to my throat - appearing was a head. Then sort of out of nowhere - ‘A baby lay upon the bed.’ He started slowing down and so the light began to die. ‘Hang on’ I said keep pedalling; he did and asked me why. “I don’t think we’re finished here” - his missus gave another groan, nd suddenly the first baby ain’t laying there alone. “Twins!” He shouted, “Bloody twins - I’m the father of a pair.” “Keep pedalling” I’m screaming out “I think there’s more in there.” “There’s more!” He bellowed “Bloody more!” Then the room went black, “Get on the bike” I said. “We need some light”, but he would not go back. “What’s wrong with you?” I shouted easing out another head, “Keep pedalling so I can see what’s going on” I said. “I know what’s going on” he whined as I delivered one more ‘gem.’ “They’re sneaking in from outside ‘cause the lights attracting them.”