Derek Needham heaved himself up off the bench, grabbed his backpack in one hand and the shabby, overstuffed plastic bag in the other. The backpack had seen better days: a lifeless faded blue, scuffed all over and a large tear at the top. Nevertheless, it still held together as though his life depended on it. Which, indeed, it did. These two bags contained everything he owned and he carried them everywhere he went. Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he trudged along the boardwalk stopping every now and then to glance out at the choppy water in Moreton Bay. He marvelled at the speed and skill of the kite surfers as they tore up the water towed behind their brightly coloured sails. Occasionally, one caught the wind and launched the rider several metres into the air, hanging on tightly and p
