Tuesday, 28 July 2015

Chapter 3 continued

Chapter 3 continued...........
Heathcote School was only a short bus trip away but still too far. Always while scurrying to the bus stop in the cul-de-sac Rene and her three children would be soaked and the gale force winds blew them off balance with every step taken. Their ‘Mac’s’, ‘Gum Boot’s’ and rain hats did nothing to ward off the unpleasantness of dampness, and making useable function of an umbrella was out of the question due to the winds intensity. When they reached the bus shelter it gave a little relief but the wet blew in from all angles. The bus was an hour late due to the many road accidents, and together with the flooding and the inclemency of the conditions all who travelled on this day were delayed.
When the bus finally arrived the driver said it would probably take an extra hour to reach the Heathcote stop. Rene was in two minds, one wanted to get off and go home, but much to the disapproval of her three damp unhappy children, the other mind succeeded and she decided to continue on her mission to school. The trip, as expected, was not without drama. In various places the water was lashing the road up to and above cars hubcaps. Many vehicles were conked on the side of the road but most were simply traffic jammed. Rene’s eyes glassed over in dismay. She felt tormented as if someone upstairs was not only adding insult to her injury, but they were also conniving to dampen her spirits in assessment for a final showdown. She had to be seen to remain calm in front of the children, and although depressed worked hard to restrain from breaking down completely into a weeping mess of gloom; her wet tangled hair still dripping down around her face helped hide the tears and facial trauma associated with such physical abjection. Arrival at the school provided encouragement, for the registration was simplified by the kindness and consideration given by the teaching staff. They took the time to dry everyone and care for the children and hear Rene’s story from England to date. They themselves mostly immigrant’s, embraced her words with compassion and understanding and gave her hope with assured reports of better days ahead. The rain did not ease on the way home or anytime in the immediate future. On this Thursday Tim and Zoe were given a few days reprieve from school because they did not need to attend classes until Monday, but the rain did not ease and they still needed their raincoats in play for the week ahead.

Now with Zoe and Tim at school Rene was allocated a little more freedom. Factors in relation to parental responsibilities and the frustration of organising and amusing three bored children had been somewhat alleviated, but there was still Don to contend with, and at times he could be more of a handful than the other two put together. At least this phase of resolve did offer a little more sanity in Rene’s day-to-day chores but in retrospect it also allowed more time to reflect and ponder the choices made in travel. With so much time on her hands the days became long, and regret was constantly mindful. Boredom activated adverse emotions plaguing her senses, she had to do more than just housework to attempt interruption of negative reflections, so instead of staying home staring at four walls she sought the company of others by regularly taking Don to the communal hall (the canteen) for hot beverages, food and games such as cards and ‘Housie’; but even this was not enough to replete her sedulous personality, she needed more.
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Wednesday, 22 July 2015

CHAPTER 3 Continued

CHAPTER 3 Continued;
The main hut was shaped the same as all the other huts, except somewhat larger and similar to the wartime factories in England, like above ground shelters but much longer, half round, and completely covered with a shiny corrugated tin roof, continuous in the forming of its tin sides. As they near the main doors Bill requested;

       “Wait here please.” All stopped in family file whilst the escort entered the hut for further instructions. On return he said;
       “Okay, quiet please. You will all have to fill out a few forms. Inside we have officials who will check your documents, provide you with information such as canteen opening times and other formalities. Once you have all signed the register and finished the paperwork you will be shown to your hut.” With all the official procedures complete the Scotsdon’s were shown to hut number ‘54’. It was situated not far from the main hall, and not unlike any other hut, except the outside communal toilet and shower facilities were in close proximity; next door in fact. Two families shared the one roof. There was a door at each end of the hut and each unit was separated by a thin wall of plywood. The structure offered minimum privacy in speech, allowing each adjoining family to hear the smallest of neighbourly noises.
These living quarters, like conjoined twins, were typical of barracks and in close proximity to Ingleburn army camp. In its entirety the ‘Hostel’ housed, at a guess, probably as many as a thousand people. Although the units were small, they were convenient and provided homely comforts to begin. Laundry and washing facilities were shared amenities as was the canteen set at the top end of the ‘Hostel’. Adjacent was a public transport stop, the main office, the pre - school and other conveniences. Each unit had two bedrooms, a small lounge room and kitchen combined. One bedroom was furnished with one double steel framed bed and the other with two sets of bunk beds. The mattresses were paper thin and on the verge of needing fumigation. Rene cleaned them as best as possible and complained bitterly to authorities about the unhealthy climate, but to no avail. The seating was an old wooden framed, clothe woven, torn, two seat lounge, adjacent to a round laminated top, steel legged four setting dining table. Rene was wretched with the whole scenario, causing prolonged stress, worry and the irritation of leaving England as the instigation of many outbursts; tears of exile rolled down her cheeks daily. Ted unremittingly relayed the message this was supposed to be a place of temporary accommodation and there were no-frills attached. He said to Rene;
       “Most of those affiliated with this lifestyle, especially those from other lands, feel the same regret at some stage or another, but we need to be resilient and try hard to adapt.” But to adapt was difficult, the constant cold and tempestuous weather hindered liberal attempts for those aspiring to search for employment and provided most of the suburb with colds and influenza. Some were more easily discouraged than others and it was easier to stay rugged up inside than get about. To add to their difficulties, few had their own cars and the public transport was poor and lacking in frequency so the majority of inhabitants remained housebound and depressed. A couple of slow weeks passed and the time had come for Don’s brother and sister to enrol at the local school. There was no respite in conditions, the rain plummeted, amalgamating with gale force winds it created enormous turbulence and the driving rain on the tin roof rendered it impossible to hear normal speech.
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Sunday, 28 June 2015

Chapter 3........

Chapter 3
East Hills Hostel

They arrived in Sydney Harbour on June 22, 1958, in what was said to be the worst weather witnessed for some time. Most likened it as inferior to the ‘English’ winter, dissimilar only by the absence of snow. This cataclysm made up of low, amorphous, uniform, dark layers of cloud gave off continuous precipitation. It was not the greeting expected and definitely not like the information provided in England displaying golden beaches, swimsuits and sunny days.
They and their fellow travellers became instantly sceptic of the glamour associated with Australia’s sunny climate. As thoughts entwined with the journeys end became a reality it promoted further apprehension, but, at last, especially for Ted, verification of years of anticipation and struggle in obtaining passage finally consummated an outcome. Happier times and opulence rest in the hope and belief the stories, travel brochures, pamphlets and government propaganda they were inundated with over the past few years in England could offer the qualities of life authorities so freely publicised. The intensions of the Scotsdon’s were laden with many possibilities to fulfil dreams, and as long as they did not allow first impressions to impact on the achievement of successful results thus far, the opportunities were there to be taken.
While being transported from the ship by bus to East Hills Hostel, a hope proffering the unknown kept everyone to a whisper. They had yet to see Kangaroos hopping ubiquitously, bush rangers riding their stallions, or snakes squashed on the roads as informed by London gossipers.
       “Hip hip hooray,” everyone cheered as the bus pulled into the ‘Hostel’ cul-de-sac. Within view was a mass of huts, not unlike the concentration camps as witnessed by many of the veterans, despite this the silence had been broken as cheers and laughs exchanged a variety of tones. The joy was probably only a release of anxiety helping to camouflage the hesitation so heavily lingering in receding minds as each knew they were now a servant to their own destiny.
Don was too young to understand the setting he was to call home, he could only later envisage and try to comprehend the multitude of sentiments felt by his parents. Their search for happiness and a new lease on life in Australia jumbled with snug memories of ‘English’ home comforts, and the intellectual void caused from alienation restraining optimism, all played a part in aggravating the senses to create a concoction of emotions.

       “This way please,” said a young man in a dialect made up of ‘English’ and ‘Australian’ slang. He wore cheap rubber thongs, walked with a slouch, and introduced himself as ‘Bill’. While leading a charge towards the main hut, undaunted by the rain, he explained he had been in Australia for four years and reassured everyone they would enjoy the people and the climate. Most disbelieved his statement as they tiptoed through murky puddles.
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East Hills Hostel Sydney 1958

Wednesday, 24 June 2015

Chapter 2 conclusion

Chapter 2 conclusion
Repressive mechanisms took control of Don’s mind, maybe the lethal fracas he witnessed added an ‘Oedipus’ complex because, although he was innocent of any wrongdoing the fear of punishment and repercussions to himself or his father if he dare blab his secret lent an emotional dynamic forced subjugation of the unconsciousness. But much to his favour was the remarkable and significant esteem he held for his family and never once mentioned that evening, or displayed or developed adverse aggression toward his father. It could have been he was just too scared to say anything, nevertheless he unquestionably suffered an early dissociative disorder but this later served him well when he was old enough to associate it with ethical and moral correctness. It taught him to understand a lifelong rule; one’s need to fight for principles of justice and protect one’s property was of paramount importance for sanity, liberty, and freedom.
Only when Don grew old enough to imagine the mixture of feelings his dad held within could he understand his actions. The war compelled hostility and death, yet to have to initiate the taking of a life in peacetime must have been a horrific experience. Don never saw his father show emotion or speak a word of his deed. In travel from England, the alienation, confusion, uncertainty and the many feelings and insecurities mixed with the excitement of what lay ahead in an unknown land must have been invigorating and intimidating, and Ted was not going to let a pervert like Battista stand in his way; he had come too far and fought too hard to be distracted from his goals.
For the Scotsdon family the stimulation from an ambiguous future surely affected each in different ways. Before the trip came to an end Tim simply enjoyed all on offer, and Ted put the repugnant past in the past, but Rene’s attitude to travel was still one of anger and resentment which she masked vaguely by deluding herself the merriment of ship festivities could continue forever. She would never be aware of Ted’s execution and with his atheistic beliefs he never sought redemption for his crimes. Don was reticent for the rest of the trip for which his family put down to his sometimes bratty behaviours, and Zoe never gave Battista another thought.


Chapter 3 to follow........
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Sunday, 21 June 2015

Chapter 2 continued...........

Chapter 2 continued.........
When he poked his head out the door to search the deck he caught glimpse of the two fighting and baulked daunted before dashing to hide behind the staircase to remain inconspicuous. From there he viewed Battista on the ground bleeding from facial wounds and his father standing over him. Now Don was very scared and intimidated, he froze, watched, listened, and heard Battista say in an arrogant and offensive tone;
       “I’ll have you up for assault and then you’ll be in the ships’ brig and why your there I’ll have my way with your precious daughter. You won’t stop me. Ya fuckin' Idiot.” Battista laughed scornfully as he strained to his feet. Ted said;
       “Ohhh no you won’t.” He grabbed him to hit him again, they struggled, Ted fought like a Kilkenny cat as they neared the railing of the ship, he picked up Battista bodily and in the gravity of intense fury threw him over the side into the endless dark ocean. Don could hear the faint scream in the strong wind and ran inside petrified but unseen.
Ted looked over the side with a torrid mental rejection of his own actions, then he scanned up and down the deck in shock of his instinctive yet deadly reaction, as he became sanely aware of the outcome he took one last look over the side, but saw no sign of Battista; he was gone in seconds. He looked left and right along the empty deck again and again and was confident he was not seen. He wiped his clothes free of ruffle, gathered his senses and went inside to the bathroom to freshen his appearance.
Once Don got inside he was sheepish looking, his mother asked;
       “Are you okay? Did you find your father and say goodnight?” With a sense of guilt and overtones of quailed reflections, he answered;
       “No mummy, I didn't see ‘im.” Ted joined his family at the table as if nothing happened. On one hand he was tense but on the other hand glad the problem had been disposed off. Don said his goodnights and slept in disbelief to what he witnessed.
During the trip when Zoe and others commented they had not sighted Battista for a while, Ted answered;
       “He’s probably in his cabin suffering from seasickness like a lot of the other passengers.” Zoe accepted her dad’s explanation but Rene showed her suspicions by later asking;
       “It’s strange Battista just disappeared. Did you say anything to him?” Ted replied;

       “I asked him to stay away from Zoe and told him people are talking about them and it doesn’t look good, maybe he listened and is staying clear of us, or maybe he really is seasick. How would I know?” Rene’s insight to her husband’s character was sufficient enough to know he was withholding information, but because she was glad she and Zoe had not seen him for a few nights she refrained from further inquiry.
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SAKI- The drunk Aussie monk



Saturday, 20 June 2015

Chapter 2 continued

Chapter 2 continued.................
Over the next few days Battista refused to heed Ted’s warning and blatantly breached Zoe’s space with disturbing commitment. He did this in company and with fun attached to ensure his actions could not be construed in any way to amount to unlawful molestation. He plumed himself in the knowing, if Ted hit him with witnesses present he could take legal action. Ted was not going to go to a cell for anyone, but he knew he had to put an end to the pandemonium because Battista was portraying a confidence flaunting an open infatuation, it was getting out of control and he was getting away with it. Ted knew for sure Battista’s obsession was far from any puritanical legacy, and if he let Zoe out of his sight for any period of time her safety would be compromised. So as not to make a scene Ted tried to get him on his own again, but he was clever in his movements and stayed well clear of Ted’s advances. Instead he manipulated Zoe’s affections in the hallways and in places Ted was absent, or on the dance floor in full view of everyone to nullify an attack. Both Ted and Rene spoke to her constantly about his improper advances but she was too innocent to realize her ease of association was influencing his behaviour; just like any teen she knew best. Ted thought: ‘I have to be patience and wait my chance. He’ll not get away with it much longer.’
Ted watched his every move with determination. After dinner on a moonless, cold, windy, blusterous evening, Battista finished his meal and went outside onto the deck for reasons known only to him, maybe for a smoke, fresh air, or exercise, whatever the reason it was a lapse in memory on his part. This was the opportunity Ted was waiting for. He followed him, cornered him, and firmly made his case clear;
       “I’ve fuckin’ warned you sunshine, over and over again. Stay away from my daughter or it will be the last thing you do. Do you understand?” He paused before clinching his fist at his face; “I will not tell you again.” Battista laughed condescendingly, as he turned his back on Ted to walk away he replied with impudence and gall;
       “You can’t do a thing about it. Piss off!” The derisive reply once again saw Ted disparaged to the point of rage. He laid one hand on the shoulder of Battista, forcibly spun him around and whacked him firmly on the lip with a right hook, then followed with a left jab to the stomach; he went down squealing like a pig. Ted stood over him about to affirm once again his dictate but he moved suddenly, swiftly swiping his leg in a low circular motion at Ted's legs knocking him off balance, it was just enough to allow himself freedom to get up and attempt scamper to the safety of inside, but Ted tackled him around the waist and pounded him again and again with his fists.
While this ruckus was evolving Don was told by his mother, who was oblivious to the whole goings-on outside;
            “It’s time for bed Don. Go and find your father and say goodnight.” Don remembered seeing his father go outside and went looking for him. 
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Thursday, 18 June 2015

Chapter 2 continued

Chapter 2 continued
On this occasion it was a sleazy Italian named Battista. He befriended the Scotsdon’s and at first proved good company and helpful with entertaining the young children, but he soon began showing a lot of inflictive attention to Zoe who was only in her mid teens compared to his late twenties; he was enamoured with her purity. Ted kept a discreet eye on the two and was forced to speak to Battista many times about inappropriate advances towards his daughter, but he persisted without shame condoning an inert discombobulated sense of wrong. Because of Zoe’s naiveté she enjoyed the attention and had no idea of his sordid intentions. Battista would fake sexual play by patting her leg, or by brushing his hand over her breasts while attempting a friendly cuddle. He would dance with her consistently and his pelvic movements worked to gyrate in close proximity to her body with enervating effects on her father’s patience, his excitement would show boldly by the bulge in his trousers front; clothed frottage gave him intense sexual pleasure. Many passengers commented on their distasteful and suspicious behaviour and a lot took umbrage at what they described as; ‘Zoe’s attempts to lead him on’.
Ted tried hard with as much diplomacy as was tolerable to reason with Battista. He already explained in no uncertain terms Zoe was an impressionable youngster, determined and rebellious like all other teenagers, but nescient to his violations of her privacy or other infractions regarding his suggestions. Ted knew she was oblivious to any type of intrusive misdemeanour, yet could not make Battista understand; he ignored all warnings so Ted dictated;
       “Battista, I am getting tired of talking to you about this subject, we like your company but I’m not happy with the attention you’re paying my daughter. She is only fifteen and has not got a clue what’s going on, in fact she's innocent to your gestures and sick advances. You do know what I mean don’t you? I want you to stay away from her.” Ted went silent for a few seconds waiting for a reply, but his question gained no response so he continued with an order free from ambiguity;
       “Stay away from her! Okay!”
Battista just stared at Ted, he smirked a supercilious and conceited smile to reply with a pitted snub to his warning;
       “Fuck off! She likes my attention and you can’t do a thing about it!” Ted was infuriated; he did not hesitate in bending his arm at the elbow to release his fist with as much power as he could muster and landed a right hook on Battista’s chin knocking him to the ground. Then to relieve himself some more by therapeutic abreaction, while turning for the door he pointed to him with arm outstretched and threatened;

       “Stay away from her or there will be trouble. Do you understand?” Battista was dazed, while trying to stand he knelt on one knee clasping his chin in one hand and gazed menacingly at Ted with an expression of extreme and wilful disobedience. Ted was well acquainted with such impertinence from people and aware this was not the end of his troubles.
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1945 Burma