The Lizard

By Jodie Young

My Dad had a big fight with Nana who we were living with at the time, so we had to leave. Packing up our life into the back of an old brown Toyota estate, it full of my toys and Dad’s guitars we set off on the 24-hour drive to Sydney. It was going to be our 5th move since my Mum died a few years before, another new school and I remember being sad to leave my friends. However, I followed Dad happily. It was just me and him and I would never let him out of my sight, for fear of him being upset about Mum or worse dying like her. His very own 8-year-old bodyguard.  

Obviously, he is my Dad (even if he used to joke and say I was adopted, which was a trick he used to play on his sister), but we have definitely never had a conventional father/daughter relationship. I was more like his little mate following him all over the world, always on hand to grab him a beer or make him laugh when he needed it. He is the epitome of a failed rock star, covered in tattoos, played music all his life and for a time found a bit of fame. 

He gave his whole career up when my mum died to look after me, or so he has always told me (it’s cost me a lot in therapy to try and shake that). So ever since then we have been the 2 musketeers and it was my job to always be alright (Dad always told me our family doesn’t freak out, ‘Youngs don’t freak out’) and to make sure my Dad is always alright. 

The old car really wasn’t made for long hot drives across the Australian desert. It would keep overheating and white smoke would billow out from the engine and cover the view of the road. We would have to pull over and pour water on the engine to cool it down, then carry on. This was the 90’s so if your car breaks down in the desert you can’t call for help and there were no other cars around either. I remember thinking if the car broke down then maybe one of the kangaroo’s would come to our rescue, just like Skippy.  

We would pass the time on the drive by playing games, making up stories and singing. Dad would educate me on all things Rock & Roll and then let me play my East 17 album. 

After what felt like years, we finally saw another car coming in the distance. We were so excited as it meant we were getting a little bit closer to civilisation. Just as the car came close, a huge lizard waddled into the road in front of us. Dad had no other option but to run over it, if he would have swerved, he would have hit the other car.  Obviously, I was 8 so my memory of the size of this lizard may be a little exaggerated, but I remember it spanning the whole left-handlane of the road. Its back was broken where the car had run over it, it was screaming in pain. 

Dad said we had to turn the car around and go back to put it out of its misery and that it was cruel to leave him there like that. He was crying as much as me. 

With the car turned around we both just stared at the lizard stuck helpless on the road. Dad started thundering towards the him and just at the last moment before we hit it, he swerved the car and kept driving. He still talks about leaving that lizard today.

I have a lot of high jinks stories about the adventures of me and my dad. All things that probably wouldn’t be classed as good parenting. All of them are a bit sad if I think about them for too long, but then I remember that Young’s don’t freak out.