• View of Perth City from the Hillbillies town •

I know I introduced myself in the previous chapter as an 8-year-old but the real story starts the year I turned 7.

You see, I wasn't born in Tassie and us Hillbillies had to move to Misty Hill Mountain at some point. So I will start at the very beginning - where I was born, which was in the dry, flat plains of Perth City. Well, I wasn't born in the actual city but in the bush-land to the south in a tiny little house in a tiny little rural town. That's the place where my parents got married, where I was born, and where we children all spent the first several years of our lives.

It was a lot different to Tassie – it was hotter, contained more risks of snake-bites and bee-stings, and had terrain flat enough to skateboard around relatively safely. Not to say we didn't stack it though – we definitely kept Mum busy with our scraped knees and bruised arms.

She always told us not to talk to strangers when we went out - our street seemed to be littered with the back-end dodgy bogans who couldn't afford to live anywhere else. That didn't really stop us though.

We made friends with an old lady who lived across the street from us - we called her The Cat Lady because she let her cat run loose in the streets. Its fur was all matted and one of its ears had a rip in it.

One day, Brodie and I saw her cat climbing out of a drain on the side of the road. We raced away screaming convinced that it was a dead cat come back to life. We stayed away from it after that. You can never be too careful when it comes to the undead.

There was another strange old lady who lived next-door to us. We all thought she was a witch. She would always poke her head over the fence and stare fiercely at us while we played. She didn't seem very friendly until, one day, she beckoned us over. She gave Brodie a toy zebra. He loved zebras. She gave me a porcelain bear figurine that wore a matching pink hat and dress set and held a basket of flowers. One of the bear's arms had come off so it looked a little ugly. I didn't want to be rude so I smiled and said thank you. We never saw her again. To this day, I wonder who she was and what happened to her.

We had a trampoline back then too. Brodie and I would hold competitions to see who could jump the highest – sometimes we jumped so high we would accidentally propel ourselves over the net. Luckily we never broke any bones though, however surprising that may sound.

One of our favourite games to play was called "Little Monsters" although at the time we were both convinced that it was pronounced "Little Munsters," much to the amusement of our parents. We would hold hands and jump as high as we could in 3 seconds before letting go and tumbling back down. "1, 2, 3, little munsters!" we would scream and laugh uncontrollably.

Monsters wasn't the only thing we mispronounced – there was a long list. Oil was eel. Scenery had a very aggressive-sounding 'c.' Larry was Lerry. Million was millin. Vitamins were pitchuals (don't ask me why). And if you were Min, water was 'oopa.' I don't know how she translated that but it was funny and it stuck. Visitors would always look at us strangely when we asked for a glass of oopa but that's what made it so funny. We would giggle and snicker while they looked all the more confused because of it.

They just weren't cool enough to be in on our inside jokes.

The only other people who were cool enough to understand our jokes were our friends: Juli, Sam, and Ren. Our mums met at a play-group when I was one and ever since, we've all been the best of friends. Almost every day they would come over to play with us in our pool...well, not really a pool just a plastic shell-shaped one that Dad would fill up with water from the hose. It was bright green and very cool. Juli, Sam, and Ren all wanted their mum, we called her Auntie Barb even though she wasn't actually our auntie, to get them one. I heard her secretly tell mum one day she was going to buy them one for Christmas that year, all the while pretending that they weren't going to get one.

Christmas was the best time of the year. It was scorching hot, in the middle of summer. Dad would fill up the pool. We would have sausages sizzling on the BBQ and soft drinks in the esky. We weren't often allowed soft drinks so it was always a treat when we could have them.

Auntie Barb, Juli, Sam, and Ren would come over and so would Auntie Di and Uncle Tom. They weren't our actual auntie or uncle either. They just liked being called that.

Dad and Uncle Tom would fire up the barbie and start cooking the sausages and meat patties. Mum, Auntie Barb, and Auntie Di would go into the cool of the kitchen and talk and laugh while making pasta salads and drinking pink gins. Pink gin was Mum's all-time favourite drink. She made the gin cocktails so well even all the blokes wanted them. They used to call them 'girl drinks' and wouldn't touch them until Auntie Barb dared them too one day. Ever since, they couldn't get enough of Mum's 'girlie' pink gin cocktails. I wish I was old enough to try it. Oh well. We kids got all the lemonade to ourselves.

So while all the adults got the food ready, we kids would run around and play. First though we would ask who got what for Christmas because finding out who got the best presents was somehow very important. We all had a thing, you see, that whoever got the coolest present that year would have to bring it over and show everyone so we could all have a turn and play with it.

This one Christmas, Juli, Sam, and Ren told Brodie and I all about their new plastic shell pool. They were very excited about it.

"I already knew you were going to get that!" I exclaimed proudly.

"No you didn't," Sam argued. "How could you? We only got it today."

"Yeah but I heard Auntie Barb telling Mum about it," I insisted.

"Why didn't you say anything then?" he whined. "You could've just told me! You didn't even have to tell Juli or Ren. They're just babies!"

"I'm not a baby!" Juli huffed and crossed her arms indignantly.

I raised my eyebrow at her. Sam was right. Compared to him, Juli and Ren were babies. He was the oldest of all of us. He was even older than me.

"Who cares?" I shrugged. "Anyway, guess what Brodie and I got for Christmas? Bikes!"

"What? Where?" Sam yelled in disbelief.

Instantly, all talk about the new plastic shell pool was forgotten. Everyone raced into the shed to see our new, cool bikes. Sam was especially excited about our bikes. He loved bikes. He liked drums too which is why he had also gotten a mini drum-kit set. We hadn't seen it yet but Mum promised to take us over to their house soon so we could have a turn on it.

Sam and I wheeled the bikes out to the front gate but Brodie was annoyed that he was the one who had to share his bike.

"Why can't he ride yours?" Brodie whined.

"Because I'm the oldest," was the only explanation he got and it was the one that worked, every time.

So Sam and I rode down the road, leaving Juli, Ren, and Brodie behind. They didn't stay at the gate too long though. When I looked back 5 seconds later, I saw the three of them racing back up to the house all shouting over the top of each other.

Sam and I just shook our heads. "Babies."

We didn't go that far – just to the end of the street and back. We were hungry for lunch and didn't want to be too far away when it was called.

Then, Sam saw a giant grasshopper and we had to pull over and try and catch it. As we were jumping around in the grass, screeching and laughing, we were rudely interrupted by the sudden skidding of tires and the loud dinking of a bike bell.

"Oi, losers, whatcha got there?"

We both froze and looked up.

Oh no. It was the Cul-de-sac Kids.

The Cul-de-sac Kids. They were even bigger than Sam was and there were lots of them – at least five or six. They all wore ripped jeans and flannies, even in the middle of summer. They rode the coolest bikes and chewed flavoured gum and thought they were top tier shit. Every time they rode past us they would hoot and yell. One time they even made fun of us for our skateboards.

"You're too chicken to ride a bike without training wheels!" they would sneer.

We called them the Cul-de-sac Kids because they all lived in a bunch of feral houses down the end of a cul-de-sac the street over. We didn't know what their actual names were. We never felt inclined to ask.

Now, they were surrounding us, blocking any chances of escape.

Without making any sudden moves, Sam and I straightened up. I clenched my hands behind my back, hoping they didn't notice our bikes that were lying in the dirt several metres away. They better not try and steal them!

I made the mistake of glancing over towards them. Oh no. I swallowed. One of the kids had seen them! And of course it had to Big Kid – the worst of the bunch. He was the leader and he was the meanest.

Big Kid's lips curled up in a sneer. "Oi boys, take a look at what we have here! Some wannabe cool kids with bikes!" They all laughed. Then he turned back to us. "Sorry guys, the cul-de-sac's already taken and we don't accept losers."

For a moment, there was a deathly silence. Then, Big Kid turned around sharply and glared at his gang, prompting them to start laughing with him.

I frowned and glared straight back at Big Kid. Was that supposed to be a joke? Because I didn't find it funny.

Sam and I had been practicing back-handed slaps for self-defence. They really hurt. I imaged swiping a slap across Big Kid's arrogant face right there and then. I wondered what his reaction would be like - if he was as chicken as I suspected.

I must've smiled while picturing this because all of a sudden Big Kid yelled, "Whatcha smiling at you disrespectful little turd burger?" He jumped off his bike and threw it down with so much force dust kicked up around his legs.

Now, looking back, maybe it wasn't the best reaction to the situation but upon hearing Big Kid's supposed 'insult' I couldn't help it.

I laughed.

Everyone froze and stared straight at me in disbelief. Then, I realised what I had done. I clapped my hand over my mouth and my eyes widened. Shit.

"Yeah that's right, be scared!" Big Kid bellowed, his face red with fury. "How dare you! Apologise! Right now!"

"Her apologise to you?" Sam sputtered. "No!"

"Then I guess we'll just have to take your bikes then," he crossed his arms over his chest with a satisfied smirk. "That'll teach you a lesson."

"You're not taking our bikes, Big Kid!" I exclaimed boldly, a rush of adrenaline taking over. "Just leave us alone. We'll go home and we won't bother you again."

I tried to walk away but Big Kid held his hand out and one of his thugs stepped in my way. "Uh uh, not so fast you little shit. If you expect to leave here in one piece, you gotta apologise."

I glanced helplessly over at Sam. We were trapped! There was nothing we could do. They were all so much bigger than us. It didn't matter if I apologised or not, they would probably still take our bikes. One of them wasn't even ours! It was Brodie's! And he'd only ridden it once. It was so unfair.

Then, an idea - a dangerous, bad idea - popped into my mind.

"Fine. I'll apologise," I announced and watched as Big Kid reeled back in shock.

"Really?" he hissed laughingly. "Thought I'd never live to see the day. Alright, come over here then and do it!"

I beckoned for Sam to follow me as I slowly, cautiously stepped towards him. I straightened my back, lifted my head, and looked Big Kid right in the eye.

And then, I back-handed slapped him.

Big Kid yelped in pain and stumbled back, creating an opening for escape. Without a moment to lose, I grabbed Sam's wrist and dragged him out of the circle.

"Get to the bikes!" I screeched and we both took off running down the road.

"Come back here you sneaky little rats!" Big Kid screamed after us. "You're gonna pay - big time! Get them!"

Sam and I dove for the bikes and raced down the road at a neck-breaking speed. As we skidded around the corner onto our street, I turned my head to see if we were being chased.

Not a single person had moved ... except for Big Kid. He was literally running down the road, holding a bleeding nose with one hand, and waving the other around furiously.

I snorted. What a baby.

When we got back home, Christmas lunch had already started. We sneaked the bikes back into the shed, none the worse for wear, and went to join everyone else at the table outside. As soon as we saw the plates, piled high with food, we forgot all about Big Kid and his little tantrum and dove straight in.

Safe to say it was one of the best Christmas lunches I've ever had.

After that, we never really saw the Cul-de-sac Kids again. Sam went around bragging to everyone how I beat the crap out of Big Kid. He reckons he's too chicken to bother us anymore. I didn't really care. I was just glad that we hadn't lost Brodie's bike.

But I must admit, smacking Big Kid had felt very, very satisfying.

• AUTHOR'S NOTE •
I hope everyone enjoyed the second chapter of The Hillbillies! It's starting out a little slow but doing justice to the original story takes time hehe. I also wanted the narrative to be told through the eyes of my 7-year-old self for a reason – to show an innocent, beautiful, simple world. I think a lot of things are taken for granted but taking this perspective has really helped me to remember the beautiful simplicity of the nature we live in.
The picture at the top of the chapter is the view of Perth City from the Hillbillies little southern town. Fun fact: Perth is actually the most isolated city in the world. The closest big city to Perth is Adelaide which is over 2,000 kilometres away.

Let me all know what you think of the story so far. Constructive feedback is welcomed and appreciated!

• QUESTION OF THE DAY •
What type of holiday would you rather go on? A road-trip/camping trip discovering the hidden gems of the wilderness or traveling fabulously in and out of hotels and cruise ships around the cities?