In showing what the story is about I have chosen two sections from the introduction. Perhaps they may be a little out of sequence but there is a reason for that.

families are complex arrangements and lies, excuses and diversions just avoid reality in these times where simple DNA reports can either solve long neglected stories from the family's past. However, at times, the hiding of the reality of family "trespasses" can have a major effect on the lives of more than one person.

So here we start the journey.

I sat in the doctor's surgery in a rather bad condition. Working alone on over 200000 acres as a jackaroo and endeavouring to do my best had led me to neglect an injury that had led to an infection that had spread rather alarmingly. The doctor had reopened the wound, thankfully with a local anesthetic, cleaned it out and was continuing to treat it.

He was of those older outback doctors who was expected to perform miracles daily with little else than experience and some leaned luck.

"Why are you taking all these pills and potions?" he somewhat growled as another stitch was added.

"Well, a few years ago I was diagnosed with a thing called Marfan Syndrome and this is what they told me to take."

He snorted with some distain "And pray tell me laddie what expert told you this?'

"I was taken when I was about eleven to some visiting capital city specialist because I was unwell most of my life and after everything had failed, I was referred and after a thorough examination that was the result. I gave me an incurable death sentence with 45 being the maximum limit."

The doctor snorted again. He finished his work, and then appeared in front of me.

"Is your mother of father black?"

A slight stutter and then "My father is dark and gets darker in the sun. They call him Darky. They say he has a skin condition."

This was said somewhat tongue in cheek. Afterall, I had had enough direct negativity thrown at me over the years to dismiss that lie from when I was five.

The doctor moved back to behind his desk and told me to put my shirt and singlet back on. He leaned across to me.

"Son you father is a native of somewhere and is not white. I don't why you look white

Arthur Needham

@akona20

Arthur Needham has not written a story.