Davo’s Idea of Fun

I used to see Davo and his ute (read: Pickup truck) driving around the suburb each and every Monday, no doubt on his way to work. Then, he simply disappeared.

I didn’t know him but imagined Davo’s life was somewhat tragic. It turned out it was.

Here is his story.

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Davo dared to do things. Why? As a teen, he came to realise his life was boring. No one noticed Davo, so he decided he had to be a little quicker, a little faster and try to be a little better than others.

Never a particularly diligent student, Davo worked as a ‘tradie,’ in concreting and over time, made enough to buy a sleek late-model ‘ute,’ (read: Pickup truck) and modified it to suit his personality.

His car was a means to achieve something – what it was he wasn’t sure of yet. He just knew he needed a turbo engine, eardrum-busting subwoofers, mag wheels and a jacked-up rear end. He added a personal touch too – a number plate reading DAVO- 36. Not that the 36 meant anything – it was just the next number available from the car registry.

As much as Davo enjoyed overtaking other cars in the weekly drag races, it didn’t bring him the satisfaction he anticipated. He didn’t know how to find what he was seeking – hell he couldn’t even put a name to the goal – he guessed it was some kind of inner joy.

He’d never felt connected. Davo’s home life consisted of a distant Uncle, who provided the roof over Davo’s head, a loose aggregation of possible cousins, and randoms who slept on the couch, on a week-to-week basis. They were young people as transient as the labouring jobs that Davo undertook.

There was no one he called Mum or Dad because that role had not existed for him. Disappearing so long ago, no one could remember the woman who birthed him. A cousin had dropped him off at his Uncle’s house when he was small and never came back. So Davo faced life head-on, by himself. It wasn’t a big deal as it had always been like this for as long as he could remember.

Saturdays were his opportunity to drive around in his Ute, revving the engine and winking at any female who looked his way. He was sure they were impressed by his car, his long blonde mullet and the various tattoos he flaunted on his biceps that protruded out the car window. But try as he might with the ladies, his relationships always petered out after the first date.

That is until Sandy came into his life. An unlikely match if ever there was one. Sandy, a short, stereotypical librarian met Davo at the local servo when she was trying unsuccessfully to use the pump to inflate her bicycle tyres. Davo had offered to help. Brazenly, he’d asked for her number and she’d agreed. Davo was astonished.

They’d been on a few dates already if you could call it that – Davo’s concept of taking a woman out to dinner was takeaway burgers and chips on the beach, but Sandy loved it and incredibly, their personalities were complementary. Davo took life in his stride, exuding a self-assurance, that Sandy lacked. Sandy was besotted by her rough diamond whom she affectionately called ‘Davos.’ And her quiet, non-judgemental manner triggered something in Davo. She permeated his every thought.

Sandy’s friends were confused by this unlikely pair, postulating that opposites attract, while Davo’s friends were more perfunctory in their reactions, shrugging shoulders and mumbling “Whatever,” when Davo mentioned Sandy.

A few months later, Davo told Jaiden, a fellow concreting mate that he was thinking about settling down and had a question to ask Sandy on Saturday night. Jaiden was taken aback and said, “Oh no mate. Not the big question?” Davo’s forced laugh as he walked away left the question unanswered.

Jaiden didn’t approve of marriage and thought it wasn’t right for Davo. The couple were worlds apart and the last thing Jaiden wanted was to lose another mate to marriage and the kids that inevitably followed. Jaiden wasn’t impressed and resolved to tell Sandy about Davo’s unstable family environment on the Saturday night drag races.

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Both Davo and Sandy were looking forward to the races. He did warn Sandy they could get pretty raw – there’d be a few drinks and drugs floating about and although the races weren’t strictly legal, it was pretty harmless, and she’d no doubt get to see him win the race as he invariably did. When Davo’s race was underway and the cars were temporarily out of sight, Jaiden pulled Sandy aside and suggested she move to the bus shelter behind the crowd, so she’d have a better view of Davo’s car. Sandy thanked Jaiden and positioned herself ready to cheer him towards the finish.

The engines screamed into that final corner. Davo’s car was neck and neck with another vehicle. Sandy waved madly and shouted encouragement. Surprised to see her standing at the bus shelter, Davo instinctively groped his shirt pocket to check the tiny box, he’d placed there earlier, was safe.

The pocket was empty and Davo panicked, stealing a glance at the car floor. To think he’d lost something so precious distracted his focus and he misjudged the final turn. The car’s rear end, always notoriously difficult to handle due to Davo’s modifications, spun out. The Ute careered sideways into a tree with a sickening thud and the howl of wrenching metal. Pain and blackness followed Davo’s final thought that Sandy would be disappointed he’d lost the ring.

Jaiden called 000 and the paramedics arrived within minutes, but Davo was already gone. As Sandy sobbed in the arms of a police officer he asked, “Is there someone we should call? His family?”

“No,” Sandy replied, “There’s only me. No one else cared.”

“Then perhaps you should have this,” the policeman said, “We found it in his back pocket,” handing her an ivory box containing a diamond ring engraved with the words, ‘To the love I’ve found. Forever yours, Davos.’

#FOWC – Thanks to Fandango’s prompt of ‘boring.’

#Creative Writing

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