So
here I am and no going back. There are sixteen of us all stupid kids
from shitkicking suburbs we all sleep in the shearers’ shed. It’s an
old building but they’ve fixed it up. I am on the top bunk Hunter is on
the bottom Hunter is from Coolaroo he likes death metal and wants to be
a traffic controller but now he is going to be a chef like me. I won’t
tell you what he done I don’t think it’s right to tell you what
everybody done I won’t tell you what I done either. A year below me
just turned seventeen most of us are sixteen or seventeen I think I’m
the oldest here.
Cook
School is a nice place but that doesn’t mean it’s a holiday if that’s
what you’re thinking we get up at six! An hour and a half in the
minibus from Melbourne. On that first Sunday they showed us around. It
is very big the land I mean there are sheep and cows and pigs and
chickens we’ll learn to kill and cook them all a big vegetable garden
too which is organic that means they don’t put chemicals on it. There
is every kind of vegetable and herb there you should see it. There are
fruit trees too maybe twenty different kinds.
The
Assistant Chef’s name is Fabian he’s the one that took us around. A red
nose and pox scars on his cheeks. He says we won’t see Head Chef who
I’m already scared of till he comes up next week. Don’t be scared
Fabian says he hasn’t killed anyone yet. Head Chef is famous in the
business and has done pretty well for himself even though he is from a
crappy suburb like me. He’s the one with the telly show. Someone’s
phone rang give it here Fabian said. Everyone had to hand in their
phones then he didn’t say when we’d get them back.
After
that the walk around I mean Fabian said we could have some free time
before dinner. I didn’t know what to do I had no friends yet I walked
up the hill at the back of the property there’s a cow track there that
zigzags up to a tree about halfway up a fat old gum the bark all rubbed
the ground trampled and dry a fallen log for a seat. I stopped and
looked around. It’s a pretty place. The main house down there a big old
homestead a tree an oak I think in the yard the bunkhouse the new
kitchen building raw timber and thin corrugated iron in front of that
the vegetable garden the chookpen the fishtanks gravel paths the sun
going down a hot summer’s day the little insects out and right across
the valley into the distance the air all mellow and gold and gold
flashes coming off the windscreens of the cars way out on the highway.
I could hear voices talking too but low no-one had yelled yet everyone
was stepping lightly and from the big shed over the other side of the
hill a piece of machinery an angle grinder I think. It felt strange all
right leaving home like that but no regrets what I done coming here was
a good thing what else was I going to do? That was the wrong crowd they
were right.
I
spent a long time up on the hill no-one came up looking eventually I
heard Fabian calling out for dinner and saw everyone down below. But
before I went down I had a picture in my mind let me tell you about it
of a restaurant my own restaurant very modern somewhere down by the
docks and Mum and Dad and my sister Tash are my special guests at my
best table and Mum I kiss her cheek and Dad I shake his hand and when I
show my sister Tash her seat I pull it out like the movies and she says
thank you Zac and when I snap my fingers the waiters do what I tell
them bring that plate yes Chef no take it back another one now a clean
one please. So there’s a dream who knows if it will come true but
that’s the dream I had that day when I went back down the hill.