tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59390688808519082052024-03-12T22:01:30.865-07:00leedsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.comBlogger373125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-68286863213384670052017-10-26T17:05:00.001-07:002017-10-26T17:05:26.972-07:00The Quiet Obsession by Ilana Leeds<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JLVLKUUwkm8" width="480"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-56929057382228240122013-10-16T16:03:00.002-07:002013-10-16T16:03:12.650-07:00The Liberal Left, Political Correctness and ReligionB'H<br />
<br />
There are some disturbing features of the internet world that I find is at odds with democracy lately. We read of teenagers being bullied to death through mobbing and cyber bullying. We read of lies being perpetuated by groups of malicious internet users who decide that someone or some organisation or group of people is 'the enemy' and thus the harassment starts. I will give you some examples.<br />
<br />
Let's take the secular humanists who seem to want to portray themselves as at the pinnacle of all that is good and righteous. Yes, the atheists and non believers are even more fanatical and 'pious' than most religious people when it comes down to extremism. They will take any means fair or foul to bring down the 'religious groups' and to show them as hypocrites or hypocritical. But, let's just ignore their glaring hypocrisy, shall we?<br />
<br />
On Facebook there is a post by someone calling her self frumgaygirl or such like. That is a bit of an oxymoron in and of itself. You cannot be a frum (religious) Jew and homosexual, because by the very nature of the lifestyle you adopt, then you are no longer frum or religious. I read a few of these posts then stopped myself further allowing this muck to muddy my thinking. It is all appealing to emotionalism and soap opera. This 'rebitzin' is supposedly the mother of 10 and confided to her eldest daughter she was gay and now the girl who is married no longer speaks to her. She confides to her audience that she has had 'attractions' for her fellow women for many years but controlled them to conform to community standards. I read this and thought, 'What a load of CRAP.' This is not real, it is made up stories by some secular humanist who hates religion and religious people and wants to portray them as nutty. The so called 'Rebitzin' sounds nutty. I could imagine someone like the author of Dancing in the Dark writing such garbage that has no credence on reality or the outlook of a frum or religious person. If someone said that she was frum and thought like this person is purported to speak and think, I would recommend a course of intense counselling.<br />
Her poor poor family and her poor husband. How dare she disrespect him like this?<br />
We have to be careful that we do not get led astray from correct behaviour and commitment to what is right and appropriate by this emotionalism of the so-called 'Love movement'. I think it is akin to a mental bowel motion. We are supposed to respect the fact that two people 'love' each other in a way that is expressly forbidden.<br />
Love on a spiritual sense goes beyond the physical expression of lust and desire. Homosexuality is about misplaced lust and desire and a wallowing in the gutter of one's physical emotions and ignoring the reality and sensitivity what is right and correct. Real love is about the correctness and appropriateness of that love. Love is allowing and respecting the rights of an other person. Homosexuals and pedophiles in their search for expression of their physical desires with whomever they want destroy and take away the rights of others to be correct and appropriate in their approach to lifestyle. There will come a time when we have to make a choice between what is right and appropriate and family and the path of Political Correctness and allowing others to ride roughshod over our rights to choose to bring our children up as religious or secular or atheist. I can respect their rights to want to be 'right' but if by their behaviour they destroy my child or families innocence, then I do not need that. No one does. The worst sorts of perversions simply have no place in my life or people who think as I do. We want honesty, clean living and normality. Is that too much to ask?<br />
Think about it. It may be boring but it is far safer and it is right.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-87684250571274068582013-10-13T04:57:00.003-07:002013-10-13T04:57:32.648-07:00There is a new ALP leader - Do we really care? B'H<br />
Honestly no longer interested in who the ALP get to lead them into disaster. We have a new party in power and let's hope the do their best to make this great country move forward. It is a new chapter in Australian Politics and I am hoping for real changes, but by the same token we must push for them. What do I want of Tony Abbott and the coalition government? I will list my wish list.<br />
<br />
1. More solar energy initiatives and solar panels and solar battery storage on every roof top in Australia by the year 2020. We need and deserve cheaper, more affordable power. That also goes for solar powered cars.<br />
<br />
2. More funding for education resources and teachers and teacher education in Australia. It is a must.<br />
<br />
3. Stricter requirements about chemicals and additives in food and food production.<br />
<br />
4. Funding and research done on the explosion in the autism cases and more support for children and adults with autism or on the autism spectrum.<br />
<br />
5. Commonsense in the green movement. They need to listen to the older farmers and the Koori environmentalists.<br />
<br />
6. Tossing out the 'marriage equality' bill as irrelevant and beneath the dignity of parliament to debate when we have much more pressing concerns about survival in the 21 st century and the future of our children and grandchildren. Believe me, it will not(our survival as a race) depend on whether two women or two men are allowed to play at being married or having their union 'sanctified as legitimate' by an act of parliament. It is a red herring issue.<br />
<br />
7.More employment in rural areas of Australia and resources and infrastructure developed to encourage people to decentralize and move from the overcrowded, bursting at the seams urban areas.<br />
8. Values and clear thinking taught in schools again.<br />
<br />
Thank you G-D if we can get at least half of this done in the next few years, I will be eternally grateful if I am not already.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-57523129534584539772013-10-03T17:57:00.002-07:002013-10-03T17:59:47.583-07:00Causing Ripples in the Gay CommunityB"H<br />
<br />
Occasionally I google my name to see what hate feasts are being held by the gay and lesbian community about me on the net. It is quite fascinating and grubby to see what goes on in the minds of those who talk about love and 'marriage equality'. I actually think it is like looking I to the sewer pits of real psychotic depravity. I am accused of a lot of things, cowardly etc, bullying etc, and attempts have been made to see I never teach again by ringing the Vic and NSW departments of Education bearing in mind my lack of support for this 'marriage equality' thing. I personally do not discriminate against any child whatever their religion, gender issues or race but these people would have you believe that I do and have even devoted FaceBook pages to wishing I were dead, calling on decapitation for me and my son, having my son raped and dismembered in front of me and then me being done over with a giant dildo - some instrument lesbian manufacture and use because they hate men but still want penetration by something - anyway who cares, it is all so depraved, and me being disembowelled. Gee and these types want marriage equality. The mind boggles.<br />
What I find ironic is that I have never once advocated violence against a gay person or indicated that I thought they should be discriminated against in the workplace, yet there are comments about people waiting for my death so they can hold a party to celebrate and worst advocating for my destruction both emotionally and mentally. What lovely 'sweet, gentle people' NOT!<br />
I imagined that the many decent, law abiding gay people I have worked with or associated in the past to be above that sort of thought pattern, or at least I hope so.<br />
While I will never support what they term Marriage Equality because I believe in all honesty it is against nature and has really destructive spiritual repercussions for the person who gives in to such lusts and physical desires, I will never advocate harm to come to a person who expresses such unnatural actions. I would rather see them change their behaviour and acknowledge with a full and honest heart that their previous deviant behaviour was very wrong.<br />
My concerns are for such people filled with hatred of hetrosexuals to be in control of manipulating the emotions of impressionable young children and teenagers into accepting abnormal or deviant behaviours as the 'norm' and for them to feel guilty that they are NOT gay or do not have gay tendencies.<br />
Last year I refused a counsellor offered for my son because this counsellor was a young male homosexual and given the trauma suffered by my son no way was I going to have my son counselled by a person whose values and social perceptions are diametrically opposed to mine and my community. Yes, I could be criticised strongly for that and continue to receive death threats and threats of being kicked into the gutter and unemployed forever, but that is better than having a son forced to believe he is gay by some twisted inhumane being who only wants to create more like him to prove that being gay is ok, right and the norm and that being heterosexual is somehow wrong or not right.<br />
I probably should go and honk at my geese. It would be far more intelligent than holding a conversation with some of these people. Even my goats and sheep have more to offer.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-52358398562805465032013-09-29T22:26:00.001-07:002013-09-29T22:27:02.681-07:00Those without hope B"H<br />
Today some friends of mine are going to a funeral. He was a policeman who committed suicide. The fourteenth police officer to take his life this year. When I was told this fact, it bugged me no end. WHY in capitals runs through my mind over and over again. Why does a person who is in a position to help others and whose job it is to preserve and uphold the law and order in society take his or her life?<br />
<br />
Why indeed? When the corrupt elements in society have the upper hand and anything goes in moral terms, then society is chaotic and the glue that keeps us all on the straight and narrow is being washed away in a tsunami of violence, porn, loose moral values and infidelity and lies. It must be very distressing from a police officer's point of view. They come across the worst kinds of depravity and the lowest types of human behaviour. They try to keep society clean and people honest. However the laws and the justice system pander to the worst types. The police put them behind bars but only for a short time and then they are unleaded on the long suffering public to rape, bash, rob and even murder once again.<br />
<br />
No wonder some of the best officers probably do take their lives in despair at having their powers eroded and the authority of the law flouted again and again. Imagine going into the police force with the highest moral values and integrity and then having to lay it aside. Police work like teaching, like ambulance officers, like nursing is a calling that goes beyond the financial re numeration.<br />
If good police officers are committing suicide we need to look at what is happening in the workplace and in our society. Something is drastically wrong with our society and we need to take a good long hard look at where we are travelling.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-60655347629138374472013-09-08T08:23:00.003-07:002013-09-08T08:23:56.423-07:00Rosh Hashannah and Tzum Gedalia and on to Yom Kippur - A journey of self appreciation<div class="MsoNormal">
B’H</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is hard to believe that Rosh Hashannah is over for this
year and we have just finished Tzum Gedalia (the Fast of Gedalia) and are in
the ten days leading up to Yom Kippur. It went too quickly by far and I am
setting up lists of things to do for the week. The election result was pleasing
– an understatement but to be expected. Some rather crass women in Sydney were very
abusive to Tony Abbott. It only reflects on them and not on Tony Abbott or the
Liberal party. They actually swore at
him which shows how stupid and dumbed down under the ALP some of us have
become. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Apart from writing, I
have housework, washing, tidying up to do, gardening, animals to care for – our
goats will need to be sold (the two boys) in the next month as I have a vet
bill to pay and they will have to go. I was never going to keep them because to
be honest, their dad was obviously a Boer cross of interesting parentage, but
not a dairy billy goat and their mother is a dairy goat and she will be joined
/ mated with a suitable young buck that is at the Topaz Park stud. When you
start to take goat breeding seriously, you spend a lot of time choosing
suitable mates for your does. You don’t just say, Oh that’s a billy goat (a
male) and that’s doe (female) and join them. A lot more thought goes into it.
For Dairy goats at least and I am sure fibre goats (goats bred for hair and
Boer goats (goats bred for meat) are similar if you are breeding good stock.
For the dairy goats you look not only at conformation, but there is milk
production, udder attachment, teat size and you try not to breed with goats
that have undershot or overshot lips, wonky ears and cow hocks (hind legs
turned inwards) and many other factors
go into choosing the sire for a doe. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I do not know my doe Osnat’s parentage and so I have to
breed up which means getting a good buck that has thrown (bred to other does)
kids which are of good conformation, good milk production, healthy and with a
nice solid udder attachment and it is desirable to have longer teats rather
than smaller to facilitate easier milking. Ideally the teats should point
slightly forward and that is often what is considered desirable in show stock
but if you look at many does that are going to be in a commercial herd, the
teats that point downward are easier to attach to the milking machines and
therefore you have to decide what you want. If you are going to show, a lot of
factors have to be considered and then there is temperament. You want nice
quiet does and bucks. You want a temperament that is not too feisty or rough.
It is no good having an excellent conformation and good milk production, if the
doe is hard to handle or the buck is temperamental. You want him to go in and
do what he is supposed to do and no dramatics and not have a problem with him
because all this takes time and energy away from good management practice.
Therefore you look for animals that do have personality but they are clever and
personable. I was lucky in Osnat and will hopefully have a couple of does next
year that I can breed up and produce a nice herd of animals that will produce
good milk and in some quantity. Half of it is keeping your animals calm and
happy as much as well fed. They also need supplement and block licks as well as
their feet and general health being looked after. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How is this important to Rosh Hashannah and to the ten days?
Well I was thinking along the lines of if we are so careful when breeding stud
animals and looking at a whole range of attributes when choosing animals for
their particular purpose, how much more so should we be careful when choosing
the right behaviours and actions in ourselves to nurture and to develop our
better qualities. We should also choose our associates with care and not be
forced to follow the dictates of the crowd. We should be our own person in
other words. We all follow our own truths to a certain extent and while we may
be critical of the actions and behaviours of others, sometimes it is better to
shut our mouths and not judge any person negatively unless we are 100 % sure
that what they are doing is wrong. We
should look into ourselves and search for our own faults and correct them before
we start to judge others or be overly critical of other people. I have had
occasion to hear very good people criticised for very little reason. Often it
is jealousy that drives a person to attempt to pull another person down. ‘Oh’,
the person may say in an inner dialogue, ‘that person is up themselves and they
are not so good.’ The person they are critical of may just have self confidence
and self esteem. The insecure person is somehow insulted and angry that the other
person has a secure sense of self and it irks them. They are jealous and in an inner
dialogue they will try to reassure them by belittling the other person or
person who displays qualities that secretly they wish they had. They denigrate
the people who display those qualities instead of saying, ‘Oh that person has
something I am aspiring to and I wonder if I can learn something from them’;
they put them down in an effort to put themselves on a higher level. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Personally, I have, over the years, learnt to appreciate the
qualities in people that I associate with. I tend to be my own person. If I
find some aspects or behaviours of a person objectionable, I just tend to avoid
having a lot to do with that person if it is something that will may my every
day association uncomfortable. For example, a person who smokes anything at
all, I am uncomfortable with. I do not like cigarette smoke and passive smoking
is a major cause of health problems. A person who tells lots of stories that
deal with negative aspects of other people, I am also uncomfortable with and I
don’t want to hear it. It is interesting to me that if you go to a doctor’s
surgery or a dentist surgery you can pick up any one of these women’s magazines
and they are full of stories that are about other people’s lives but there is
so much about negative behaviour of these sporting stars, movie celebrities and
public figures that is grist for the gossip mill. What is it that makes people
want to try and focus on negativity and the angst of others? I will give you a
few examples. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Take Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. They have adopted some
children and given them a home and yes they do move a lot in the course of following
their careers to provide for themselves and their families. But so do many
other families. They probably have at least one or two fights a week. Most healthy
relationships that develop over the course of the years do. However not every
family gets headlines about impeding divorces or is criticised for their child
rearing and parenting quite so publicly. Is it our business anyway? Are we such
perfect parents or people? I find it fascinating that media and magazines focus
on the negative and sensational, rather than the good that these two people do.
Also these magazines are in the business of selling issues and often do not mind
half truths to sell. In other words, they tell lies and embellish the truth. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Look at the media frenzy over details of Gina Rinehart’s
court battles with her children. It is enough to make one feel quite ill and is
it any of our business anyway? Yes, she
has billions and there is obviously some tension there, but why is that so
fascinating for others? She is not our
mother and we are not her children or her lawyers and quite frankly it is
boring. If she is doing something good with her excess millions, yes, that is
interesting and I do not mind knowing about it. Oprah built a school for girls
in South Africa. I enjoy stories like that because here is a person with money
who wants to help the less fortunate of the world and give them a chance to
climb out of the hole of poverty. That for me is real. Oil rich sheiks who build massive luxury
hotels in Dubai with solid gold taps and diamond inlays on the edge of the Jacuzzi
tub are just plain outlandish and into obscene luxury that offends me as a G-D
fearing person and as someone who is trying to be a half way decent individual.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is better to live well and simply. If we surround
ourselves with the charming and the charismatic, if luxury items become every
day necessities and our heads filled with stories that have no real purpose
except entertainment – then, who are we and what have we become? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We need above all morality and a path to self improvement
that is ongoing. The ten days between Rosh
Hashannah and Yom Kippur allow us to reflect and to mediate on what our true
purpose in this existence is really for. Whether we are a cleaner, a taxi
driver, a CEO, a doctor, a teacher, a student, a tradesman, a housewife – it does
not matter who we are – we can grasp the basic concept of teshuva and work on
bettering ourselves. We can work on the inner self, rather than allow ourselves
to be lost in reflection of the external self. The outer or external is what
this world is about and while it is important to a certain extent, there are
other qualities which we need to work on. If we work on the inner hidden self
it will translate to the outer in a positive way. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those who do not value themselves enough will be more
critical of others, than they need to be. First you must love yourself and only
through the development of self love and self appreciation, can you develop the
qualities that allow you to see the truth hidden in that person you are
critical of. I read somewhere once, that
a person’s life can be written in their face but you have to study them for the
fine details and watch them closely. It
is true if you learn to read the faces of people and their body language, you
can understand them better and see the messages given out by the way they act,
I never used to believe it until I really started to study people again for
characterisation and sometimes you turn away from a person because you do not
want to invade their privacy by reading too much into their facial expressions,
their body language and their behaviour. It is almost like mind reading and you
have to close off and focus on the good in that person and remind yourself of
their better qualities and put that in the forefront of your mind. You have to
weigh them up favourably at all times. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every person has a purpose and has their good points and
their weaknesses. Often in families,
there are people who allow us to develop our weaknesses into strengths and it
is not an easy path or a painless one. We are all here to help each other be
better and more competent and understanding people. Nothing is gained by the
destruction of another human being. How much more admirable it is to bring them
to life and allow them to realise their real potentials and to grow into better
human beings, year by year. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The books are open and we are hoping for favourable
judgements in all ways and hoping that the Abishter will allow us to continue
our mission in this life with blessings rather than curses and give us the
means to do so. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gimar Hatima Tova and Tzum Kal</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-16585469196931980342013-09-02T05:40:00.001-07:002013-09-02T05:40:37.240-07:00Fox Red<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Fox lies red and dead</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">on the
road,</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">His
wintery coat rusted</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">with
blood.</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">His
furry blonde testes</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">neatly
displayed<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Beneath his thick brush</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Between hind legs <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Elegantly crossed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In a final sleepy pirouette <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Horizontal <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Toes pointed down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><br />
<span style="background: white;">His
teeth gleam in the early sun</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">His
days of fun have run their course</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">No
more phishing presence</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">On the
verandah of the sheep breeder</span><br />
<span style="background: white;">Whose
lambs he breakfasted <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">So vigorously on</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In the early dawn hours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Her door mat shall remain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Where it is put<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">After her sturdy broom<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Has swept the verandah clean. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">A satisfied smirk lingers<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">On those deft lips<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">And cold incisors,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As if he was unaware<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Even at that last moment <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">When the bullet’s impact<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Smashed his knowing from this world <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">To the next as the hunter became prey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Would the lambs have been so unaware<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Of his intent in their final moments?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 200%;">© Ilana Leeds<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-33750228955190757742013-08-04T07:09:00.001-07:002013-08-04T07:09:05.193-07:00Coke ColaCoke Cola is ZERO now.<br />
Is that zero for nutrition? And HOW?<br />
Perhaps it is<br />
Zero for health and Zero for wealth too.<br />
Because ZERO coke is a dentist's delight<br />
And your accountant will get a jolly fright<br />
When he sees you have spent thousands of $<br />
On crates of the jolly black stuff, sugar loaded<br />
Additives galore and colouring what's more.<br />
What's this he says, $10,000 on dentist's bills<br />
for five teeth pulled. Whatever for?<br />
They were rotten to the core.<br />
You reply. You see, I had Zero the new cola<br />
In my baby's bottle, before I could toddle.<br />
My first teeth turned as black as my favourite tipple<br />
and for a while I had a cute gap toothed grin<br />
Before my second lot appeared, grimly<br />
edged in black, like funeral notices,<br />
I had them whitened and the dentist told me<br />
You shouldn't drink soda and stay off coke cola<br />
Especially ZERO or you'll be seeing me again<br />
Before the year is out, without a doubt.<br />
It will not be joy, it will not be social, but pain<br />
for your mouth and your bank account.<br />
After years of Zero Cola consumption<br />
It will be possible your head to mount<br />
On wall as a warning to the nation<br />
your wisdom teeth blackened or gone<br />
Your molars mere stumps<br />
Your eyes shining like lamps in the night<br />
Filled with sugar crush delight<br />
Your hair limp and falling out<br />
Your flesh cured and leathery<br />
puckers at the corners of your mouth<br />
Where you sucked from the bottle.<br />
Zero cola, Zero Nuitrition, Zero on everything<br />
Your health sucked into a black whirlpool<br />
of disease and toxic overload.<br />
You are better to find a well<br />
Drink water and water and water<br />
to flush your kidneys<br />
Stave off diabetes.<br />
So Zero out on the Zero Cola forever now...<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-32499198769242925172013-08-03T16:14:00.002-07:002013-08-03T16:18:17.234-07:00To Accept or Reject - Healing<br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">B"H</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Too often in this world we are subject to judgement and subject others to judgement without realising that it can be very destructive. Destructive to the self esteem of a spouse, child or peer or a stranger, it can have a very negative effect on the way a person perceives him or herself. Kindness and compassion costs nothing and can save a life. An emotional life. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Words can be healing. Words can be soothing. Words can be as sharp as the teeth of a sabre tooth tiger and dangerous. The bite of an unkind, insensitive remark can fester in the soul of a child, a partner, a sibling or peer for years. It can be a cancer that destroys the psychological equilibrium of others if used to belittle or to denigrate. Words are a powerful weapon and the mouth is more dangerous than a nuclear warhead if used in a negative way.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">People all need praise and all people are worthy of praise. The Abishter created us all for a divine purpose which is to bring holiness into this world and to perform a tikkun in their own small way. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We all know how hard it is to be perfect. Only G-D is perfect. Therefore we need to forgive the imperfections of others, accept that they like us are on a path to perfecting ourselves which is continuous. We spend our lives learning. We thank G-D for opportunities for growth. Sometimes it is hard to stay with the programme. We need to discipline ourselves continually. We get down and we feel at times, oh, what is the use AND G-D WHAT DO YOU WANT OF ME? You sometimes cry in the dead of night, like Tevye of Fiddler on the Roof and you say half musingly, 'It's a darn pity. You put all these obstacles in my way. Can't you choose to TEST SOMEONE ELSE? Or G-D PLEASE TEST SOMEONE ELSE TODAY!'</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">However G-D expects us to try and not give up. Continue to work on ourselves and not to judge others. If they behave in objectionable ways we accept them as fallible human beings and hope and pray they find their feet and continue their journey in the right way.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Remember a person can live a terrible life, indulge their animal soul and deny even that G-D exists but if in the last hour of his life he understands and does a complete teshuva, it is accepted. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">For some of us who spend their lives on a path of teshuva this is hard to accept. We may want that degenerate perverted person punished. Forever. However Hasem's boundless compassion is evident in all ways. If a person has TRUE remorse that shakes his soul to the core and he or she puts aside all errors of the past, they are purified and blessed.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We should see Moishiach in this generation and immediately. There is much work to be done both on a personal level and otherwise reaching out to bring the world back from the brink of destruction morally and in all ways.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-16837678383960476332013-08-01T13:14:00.000-07:002013-08-01T13:14:12.135-07:00G is for gorgeous and other thingsB"h<br />
<br />
G starts many things<br />
It is a beginning<br />
It is an ending<br />
G starts with G-D<br />
G starts goat<br />
G starts geese<br />
G starts good<br />
It ends sing and singing<br />
Also song<br />
So how could G ever be wrong<br />
It can do a middle<br />
Or second from the end<br />
As in belongs<br />
And altogether<br />
Where it joins<br />
Alto to the ether<br />
Grrrr says a dog<br />
When he wants to warn<br />
Grammar is the building blocks<br />
Of language which has two g's<br />
Fancy that! Now we are back to<br />
A gaggle of geese<br />
Going goaty<br />
And then it all boils down<br />
To alpha and beta and gamma<br />
And last but not least<br />
G-D and the ultimate GOOD<br />
Gee, gee gee....Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-5341275340940137142013-07-29T09:01:00.001-07:002013-07-29T09:01:31.697-07:00The age of excuses<div class="MsoNormal">
B”H</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>The Age of Excuses<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are living in an age of turmoil when we are making
excuses for the bad behaviour of people when we should be asking, actually NO
DEMANDING that they own responsibility for their actions. Leading on to that we
should demand that they have remorse for hurting or injuring others, even if it
was accidental or they plead immaturity. That latter excuse is only good up to
a certain age. Yes, I know the frontal
lobe fully develops at 25 years of age, but we do understand the difference
between right and wrong at an earlier age in many aspects of life and morality.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This responsibility for actions like the hurting of a child,
an older person or another peer or parent or friend or sibling must be owned
and accounted for by the perpetrator. The perpetrator must understand fully
that what he or she did was wrong and they must have remorse and display an
eagerness to make amends and to repair their ways and to somehow alleviate the
hurt of the injured party in any way they can. You cannot pretend that
something did not happen or sweep it under the carpet. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then the onus is on the injured party to forgive and mend
bridges and let the healing process begin. If the injured party does not
forgive and then they are the party standing in the way of the teshuva of the
perpetrator and or accomplices and their own healing as well as the healing
process of the perpetrators. Unfortunately it is the injured party who had to
stand tall and be better than the perpetrator. That aspect of a conflict or a
matter where there is an injured party places heavy demands on the injured
person but ultimately it is for the good of both parties. It becomes a process
of rectification and it is an assurance that the behaviour will not be repeated
or given the opportunity to be repeated because both parties will put in step
processes to prevent any sort of harm to the vulnerable people who are the
victims. It can change the perpetrator
for the better.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes there are perpetrators who commit offences like
child abuse or molesting younger vulnerable people and they will begin a
process of denial when their victims speak out. They are often very convincing
because of the very nature of their crime, child abusers and molesters are very
clever and very devious people. People will say, oh no, not him or not her.
They are such nice people and so kind and so special and they do this and they
do that. It is not surprising that someone like Jimmy Saville could get away
with the horrific abuse of children from very disadvantaged backgrounds and
some who were not so disadvantaged but totally taken in by the charisma and charm
of the persona that he presented to the public which hid the depravity and the
sickness of his true being. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A person cannot use immaturity, a poor childhood, or being
abused himself or herself as an excuse to abuse and expect to get away with
psychological murder. To do so, is to allow that this person is so immature and
stunted intellectually and emotionally as to be almost impossible to have them
contribute in a meaningful way to a healthy society. To allow them in a healthy
society is like allowing a person with bubonic plague to walk around in our
midst. Often the person who does what he or she does cannot control their most
base instincts and this makes them a danger to children and families. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We seem to have blurred the lines between what is healthy
and good behaviour to allow the worst people to travel in our midst and to
allow them free rein in the hope that they will see the error of their ways.
That maybe true with a small minority. However there are those people who seem
to take licence in today’s permissive society to indulge in the worst excesses
of modern licentiousness and depravity. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The permissive sentencing handed out to sex offenders who
strike at the very heart of our society and who corrupt and spoil our children,
the future of any community must be deplored. Children have been psychologically
mutilated by these predators to grow into adults who emotional and
psychological equilibrium has been damaged for many beyond repair and these
people suffer until the day they die. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, we can look away in shame and pretend it does not
happen and blame the victims as often the Catholic church and the Anglican
churches have done and probably will do again if they are allowed to get away
with it. But the real cost to our society is becoming grievously apparent and
we must make repair and ensure that sex offenders are not tolerated in any way and
any sort of deviant behaviour in education faculties is eradicated. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Respect for others is the key and I believe too much emphasis
is placed sex and sexuality in education and not enough on relationships and
respect and indeed morality and ethics.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Therefore we tolerate and allow incidents that we should
not. The sentence handed out to David Kramer is a disgrace and will allow this
man the freedom to roam and choose more victims as he most invariably will.
Those who have such unspeakable appetites for children are very rarely reformed
totally. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It remains to be seen what the results will be of the trial
of another individual. Who hurts more in these cases? The innocent family
members of the perpetrators who have done nothing wrong except to be born into
the same family or indeed to have had a child who would grow to do such things.
One can only imagine their states of mind. Again, the perpetrator has no thought
for his or her family. If he or she did, they would not have behaved in the
manner they did. Unfortunately that is what a sex offender is. Someone who uses
and abuses another person for his or her pleasure without a thought for the
distress of the victim and no thought of the shame that he or she brings on his
or her family. They are sex offenders because they have no shame and are
totally selfish individuals. That is why they should be given the maximum
sentence because they are unable to be contained safely in society around
families. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sentencing laws should reflect this aspect of repeat
offenders and those likely to reoffend. We have had Jill Meahar’s murder and
the murder of another woman in the past year by sex offenders on parole should
be warning bells. The number of children abused by selfish and callous adults
who think they can get away with it or receive very light sentencing has grown.
We need to send a clear message that sex abuse and the molestation of children
is abhorrent and not to be tolerated. By
the same token, preventative measures must be taken and if mothers and fathers
are hyper vigilant on behalf of their kids and are out to protect and save
their child from grief, better that than the other way. We must not neglect the
needs of our children. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-22440782896796466722013-07-21T19:18:00.001-07:002013-07-21T19:35:17.450-07:00In Praise of Longwarry Primary SchoolB'H<br />
Last year I was faced with a difficult choice. I had to endure homelessness and am still experiencing extreme poverty despite having three degrees and 17 years of teaching experience and other assorted experience in editing and writing, I am unable to find employment. In July 2012, despite our poverty and lack of funds, we had to move house because we had been given notice and also because I had to find a school suitable for a small boy who had been bullied and assaulted at his previous school. We have been assisted thankfully by charitable organisations and Jewish Care to find housing and given funds for the basic essentials of living and I still continue to search for employment that I am able to do and that is well paid to ensure that I can support my son.<br />
I searched for several weeks and used much petrol to find a school that I believed would be suitable for my son and for him to be welcomed and educated properly and respectfully. I went to a total of ten or eleven schools in country Victoria. The second or third school I went to, was Longwarry Primary School. There I met with the principal Julia Sadler who turned out to be both warm and caring as well as firm. She felt right for my son. Still I wanted to be sure so, I had a look at several more schools. I kept coming back to my interview with Mrs Sadler. She was the Principal who impressed me the most and her school impressed me. I also looked at classroom rooms, the way staff interacted and the way the students interacted in the playgrounds.<br />
Longwarry came out a very clear winner.<br />
It is a school of 120 students. A nice size and a very hamishe (homey and friendly) atmosphere exists between staff and students and parents. Everyone knows everyone else or gets to know who people are. Even if you do not know them by name, you know them by face. Louise, who runs the office very efficiently, always has time for a friendly word and her smile never seems to leave her face. Nothing fazes her and she takes all things in her stride.<br />
Mrs Julia Sadler visits the classrooms on a regular basis and takes an interest in the students's work and the teachers, as well as meeting parents, organizing activities and going to meetings and is a darn good principal. There are principals who do sit in their offices and kick off their shoes and drink coffee and relax - most of the day. I know. I have worked for a couple of principals like that and believe me, it did not inspire confidence to have to bring a student to the 'box' as they called the isolation room at one school and have the principal waltz down the hallway bearing the letter of suspension for the child's parents and he - the Principal, not the child - was in stocking feet and carrying his coffee cup which he sipped daintily while telling me that this child was suspended for four days. These are the principals you hope retire quickly before they do too much damage.<br />
Mrs Sadler is amazing. She has her hand on the pulse of the school. She knows every student at the school because she takes an interest in them and she knows their parents and their family situation. She is firm, but caring and sensitive. Her staff are amazing and echo her good management in their classrooms and out in the playground. It is wonderful what good leadership achieves and how a principal's enthusiasm filters down through the school hierarchy.<br />
I will give you an example. Today as always we have an assembly in the mornings. There are Principal awards and class awards given every week to students and Maths awards for a maths competition for seniors and juniors in the weekly newsletter. They also give out reading awards. There were heaps of reading awards this week. The Longwarry students must have been reading like buggery over the holidays.My son received an award for 100 days and we are well on the way to 150. However there were 29 awards given to students for 150 days reading. 29 little boys and girls up there in front of their peers and parents with reading awards for 150 nights. That means nearly a quarter of the school has read 150 nights at home reading and we are just over half way through the year. Mrs Flemming and Mrs Sadler even bought a bit of maths into it and asked the students to total up the number of reading nights. One smart little chap multiplied 150 by 30 and then took away 150 to come up with a total of 4,350 reading nights. That is the sort of lateral thinking we need in schools and to nurture in the younger generation.<br />
Kids don't need dogma, but to be taught how to think and to analyse and interpret facts. Yes, they also need to know how to memorise and to summarise but the thinking skills taught at this school are fantastic.<br />
<br />
The positive atmosphere the school has made a dramatic improvement in my son's self esteem. He was not wanting to learn. He was depressed and angry because he had been treated like a half witted idiot at his old school and they did not bother to find out who the sensitive little boy was under all the pain and the anguish which had been created by bullying at the school and his previous school. He has been to three primary schools and we have made it third time lucky. We spent kinder at one school in 2008 and then he was only two weeks into the term in prep and I was told that he was mentally disabled and deranged and that he should go to a special school. Part of me knew deep down that that was not true, but I was being pushed into believing that he was a very disabled mentally challenged child and he would 'never learn to read or write'. That was said to me by teachers at two schools.I fought back tears night after night and endured comments from people who told me that I was the one with a big problem and that I just did not see that he had a problem. The second school was forced to take him because we lived across the road from it and we were in the region. The only choice I given when we left the first school was a special school that they were trying to talk me into sending him there.It would have totally destroyed him as a human being and wrecked his confidence in himself for life. He would have gone through life thinking he was a total idiot. It was a school that had kids with autism, Down's and other learning challenged students. When I took him home after the second day at that school he was mimicking a boy with autism and rocking back and forth in his car seat and making grunting noises. He was just five. Horrified, I never took him back there. I insisted that the state school take him and they did so reluctantly but treated him as though he was 'different' and as though he did not have a brain to bless himself with. I still believe that the 'tests' are wrong and that they are flawed as to assessing a child or a person's true ability. I, also by the way, do not believe that students with autism or Downs' (especially if they are high functioning) should be in a special school. Is it a problem with our whole school system that other students and teachers cannot cope with a child with special needs? Yes, indeed it is. We are becoming so specialized that anyone who is a bit different, is to be shunted off somewhere else and they are viewed as not as good or as smart or as intelligent as we are.<br />
Learning and education are co-operative activities. There has to be co-operation between the students and the teachers, the office staff and the principal and the parents. We need to value the diversity in humanity and to treasure it. We are individuals and we are a community. We can be treated with respect and with love as individuals and as a member of a broader community. We have to appreciate each person whether they are older, younger or middle aged or teen aged. It is important in a community to mirror the larger community as part of a whole family. There may be some members who are different faiths or from different cultural backgrounds. It is important that there is respect. This respect starts at home within the family. Sometimes that is harder because they are family and being familiar breeds contempt and diversity. We have the examples of Esav and Ya'acov as well as Ishmael and Itzak - brothers who do not see eye to eye and live different lifestyles. We must learn to be respectful of each other even though we do not agree on certain philosophical and theological questions. So one child or five children in a classroom of twenty is having difficulty with work. It is better to modify their work, maybe explain it in a different way or even to look at the work and see how you as a teacher can help them to understand and not just condemn them to the trash heap of humanity because in your opinion, (and it is only opinion, after all) they are 'clueless' and 'will never learn to read.'<br />
Maybe it is you who should take a good long look at yourself if you believe that of students or even of fellow teachers. People are only as good as they are allowed to be. If they are derided and held up to ridicule by other staff and students are allowed to denigrate them, then they will become what you help to make them and their full potential will never be realized unless drastic action is taken to stop the steam roller from crushing them.<br />
There are too many games and not enough hard work is put into learning. Learning can be fun but it is also hard work.<br />
At Longwarry they appear to have the right balance of seriousness and fun. They have rules and they have flexibility and understanding.They expect students to be decent and polite individuals because they are themselves respectful and polite. It is a great school and Mrs Sadler is a great principal with great staff who work with great students who have great parents and families.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-64141252046772321462013-07-16T08:01:00.000-07:002013-07-16T08:01:03.000-07:00Greetings from Geheniom on Tisha b'Av<div class="MsoNormal">
This past day is the saddest day in Jewish history. Two
temples were destroyed – one for idol worship and the second for Sinat Am which
literally means hatred of others without cause. The expulsion from Spain in
1492 was on Tisha B’Av. There are many, many events that fall on this day. It
is actually the culmination of three weeks of mourning in the Jewish calendar which
starts with the 17<sup>th</sup> of Tammuz and the breeching of the walls of
Jerusalem by the Romans. We do not
listen to music, eat meat, drink wine or rejoice through weddings or wear
freshly laundered clothes or wash for pleasure from the start of the month of
Av as our mourning is intensified to the 9<sup>th</sup> of Av and until midday
of the 10<sup>th</sup> of Av.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last night I went to the Yeshivah Shule on Hotham Street
because two Shoah survivors were speaking there. The first man recounted his story briefly. Then
a man called Nossan Werdiger spoke and it was hard to hear without tears and
even more difficult for him to speak of the unspeakable. He prefaced his talk
with “I bring you greetings from Gehenoim.’ Geheniom is hell. He spoke about
his experiences in the death camps and how he survived barely. He was in the
death camps of the Nazi monsters – one should never call them animals as
animals do not do to their own kind what the Nazi (may their names be cursed
and erased from this world and the next) soulless monsters did to other human
beings. They created a hell on G-D’s earth the likes of which we should never
see again. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I came away shaken to the core, thinking may no generations
to come have to see the world through the eyes of this man’s suffering and of
his fellow Shoah survivors those with us and those who are not. His story and
the stories of his fellow prisoners must be recorded and they are our few remaining
witnesses to a soulless political ideology that decided a group of people
should be exterminated as if they borne no human kinship to the beings that ran
the death camps and the army that rounded them up to work and die. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Werdiger spoke of his survival throughout the harshest
conditions in the camps, little sleep (they had roll call at 4am in the morning
in the freezing snow) starvation rations, inadequate clothing and forced
labour. He recalled the work he did painting and the fact that he was one of
the few people with a good pair of shoes. Emotion cracked his powerful voice
when he spoke of those whom he had lost in these dreadful days – a little
brother, a sister, his mother and others of his family. Death is not easy, we
all die, but to die under those conditions and not be allowed to mourn those
you love – your friends, your family and relatives and not to give them the
proper burial rites and even not to know them on their last day that is a pain
never erased. You last glimpse a mother,
child or elderly parent or grandparent as they are separated from you and then
the camp inmates who have been there longer tell you where they go; children and mothers and the elderly or infirm
– to the gas chambers and then the crematoriums whose smoke drifts and hangs
heavy in the sky – dark with the blood and ash of your loved ones and
everywhere there is death and destruction of morals and humanity and dying is
happening everywhere around you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He talked of his survival after the war when he had already become
a Musselman. A musselman was the term given not just to people who were on the
verge of death, but to people whose very neshama was in such shock at the
horror that they had witnessed that they gave up hope to live. They were
walking dead – their souls fled into hibernation and searched for escape from
the hell that they had been placed in. Werdiger was four years in hospital after
the war and nearly died but for the friends that he had in the camps some of
whom survived and some are still with us and some have sadly gone to the next
world. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What can we say to a person who has witnessed such hell and survived?
To say that they have had a normal life would be wrong. One can only stand in
awe of their emotional strength and their endurance of the pain which they carry
to their dying days. Can we promise them that we and the next generations will
not let them or what they have suffered be forgotten and can we say NO and
raise our voices in protest should the beginning of such a thing should ever,
ever happen again. (G-D forbid)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learnt of the Shoah or Holocaust from some of the very
first books I read as a child. Our family members are great readers. There was
no TV when I grew up and we read and read and read everything we could get our
hands on. My two uncles and my father as did my paternal grandfather had
extensive libraries on holocaust literature.
There were a lot of books put out in the fifties and sixties especially
on the atrocities of Europe. I grew up in houses that had book shelves lining
the walls. We also have anti Semites in our family, who would prefer to forget that
they are descended from Rachel Aaron a yiddishe maidel whose father Josef was
deported to Australia with his wife and children coming in steerage. He stole
something I believe and came as a guest of Her Majesty Queen Victoria. Once he
has worked off his fare he settled down in Australia. I do know that Rachel
married out as John Lead who changed his name to Leeds was not Jewish. Josef Aaron was from Hamburg in Germany
originally. Family talked about them being Danish or from Holland. But no such
luck. I still have to keep 6 hours between meat and milk instead of one. They
only passed through Holland. They were originally from Hamburg and probably
came there from Spain or Portugal if you could trace it back. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mother is also from Jewish stock but again I have neither
the time nor the money to investigate. Her father was Jewish supposedly because
his mother was a Czechoslovakian Jewess and her mother I do not know as I never
knew her nor do I have the means to trace her family back. Who knows what one
can find if one searches long and hard enough? This I do know that as the
grandchild of someone Jewish, it was enough to end up in the camps if caught up
in the Nazi machine. The Germans had a unique system of classification. Anyone
of mixed blood was declared a Mischlinge of either 1<sup>st</sup> or 2<sup>nd</sup>
degree and Hitler himself apparently reviewed files of people who were asking
for reclassification so they could be declared of Aryan enough. There were many converts from Judaism to
either protestant or catholic religions and some Jews were irreligious. The
topic is an extensive one and I am not going to judge those who disavowed their
Judaism to remain alive in the European infernos. I prefer to stand in awe of
those who remained proudly Jewish despite the horrors of the Shoah and rebuilt
their lives and families and adhered to G-D and Jewish observance. Nor will I ever stand to condemn those who did
not keep their Jewish faith close. Who knows how and what those who did endure
felt about themselves after the Shoah when all those they had known and loved
passed over in the furnaces. Who is to say how one would act when placed in
their shoes and have to walk the miles that they walked in the conditions they
had to trudge. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the testimony of the holy survivors, I went to hear
the words of Rabbi <span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Meir
Yaakov Soloveichik who was addressing the Mizrachi shule. I arrived late but
still was able to hear the greater part of his historical analysis of the destructions
of the Beis Hamikdash and he was in one
word, amazing. He summed up the difference between the Empire of Rome and the
Kingdom of Judea as one worshipped power and might of the warrior and the other
was a religion of faith. When the Beit Hamikdash was destroyed, the Menorah was
no longer lit in the Temple, it was lit in Jewish homes in the hearts and minds
of the Jewish people and we adhered to our faith and we knew now and know now
and will know just who we are. It was uplifting to hear this learned Rabbi talk
and I was glad to have been present at both the testimony of Reb Werdiger and
also to hear the words of Rabbi Soloveichik. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">The
might and power of Rome may have destroyed a temple that was G-D’s physical
dwelling place on this world, but it could not touch the spiritual home of the
Jewish nation and we need to realize that each part of us is a part of the
whole nation. When we realize that and join our hearts and souls together and
serve Hashem in a peaceful way and with prayer and mitzvoth, we shall defeat
even the most powerful, richest and greatest of the nations, because we have
compassion and kindness, firmness and righteousness as our heritage and we have
the Torah to guide us and it is the contract from Hashem – an everlasting one
that will with G-D’s help and our own mitzvoth bring Moishiach to this world and to create peace
and goodness in this world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">Let
the Temple be rebuilt first in our spiritual growth, our hearts and our homes
and then, we should see the physical manifestation of the Third Holy Temple and
the Cohenim and Levi’im returning to their holy ovada and all Am Israel will
journey to be blessed in Jerusalem.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-23902176894999835172013-07-14T15:20:00.001-07:002013-07-14T15:21:12.400-07:00Krudd's campaignB"H<br />
It's our ruddy future<br />
Their T-shirts proclaim<br />
Just ignore<br />
The excuses so lame<br />
For disasters past<br />
The Krudd campaign<br />
Is in full swing<br />
Never mind the sting<br />
Of rising food prices<br />
And utility costs have gone up<br />
Through the roof.<br />
"Our Kev" remodelled<br />
And refilled with more BS<br />
Than pus in an accessed tooth<br />
Rockets around electorates<br />
In his home state<br />
He's everybody's mate<br />
But nobody's saviour<br />
Except his own.<br />
He's flying high<br />
On power trips to here and there<br />
Everyone sees him<br />
But the aftertaste is sour<br />
This everywhere but nowhere man<br />
It's our Ruddy future alright<br />
That's why I hope people will be too bright<br />
To vote for the Krudd factor.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-53944539587801467372013-06-27T20:27:00.003-07:002013-06-27T20:27:58.708-07:00ShameShame you haven't got a job<br />
Therefore you ain't got a bob<br />
To bless your name and that of your child<br />
It's no use feeling hopeless and wild<br />
When your biological family tell you "go to the Salvos, they'll help ya!'<br />
Or "there is Vinnies, you know" and then you hear, 'she's got a car',<br />
she can't be that badly off, or "you know my sister always had mental problems,<br />
Not much hope for her' despite the fact you worked for years<br />
And that becomes another issue, "what ever did you do with all that money<br />
When you worked?". Pity about the utility bills, rent and food and clothes<br />
one has to buy, isn't it? Probably better to go naked and hungry and be homeless<br />
Because then they will really believe you.<br />
I'm broke as hell they announce,<br />
Despite taking all they could from a 90 year old woman<br />
and dumping her in a home.<br />
There is money for many things<br />
Trips to Europe and the coast.<br />
Let's go scuba diving and out to Ularu<br />
We need to buy many things and to invest.<br />
Lots of things to do and see<br />
but to help a sister in need with a child<br />
<br />
NO NO NO, the bitch was given a ring by our gran<br />
Let's try and rip it off her and destroy her even more.<br />
So good she is being brought down to earth<br />
Rub her nose in the dirt<br />
She is such a waste of space, it's a pity she's alive even to breathe<br />
A pathetic loser individual whose better off dead.<br />
I am just waiting for her death notice<br />
then there is less to share<br />
She is a loser without a job<br />
She needn't come here<br />
And she thinks she is an artist and a writer<br />
Ha HA HA she is nothing but a failed mediocre teacher<br />
a piece of garbage born nearly sixty years ago.<br />
We will teach her.<br />
So she has friends down south<br />
Good let her stay there with her broken mouth<br />
She ain't someone we want to know<br />
Because we have money and talent and are brilliant,<br />
Oh so brilliant and she?<br />
She is just a garbarge single mother on a pension<br />
A loser and a parasite. Better off knocking her on the head.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-60207399565420075682013-06-25T14:51:00.005-07:002013-06-25T14:51:49.557-07:00The Broken Ones ( a poem and bit of light relief from the novel)<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>The Broken Ones<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The child draws</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wall upon wall</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of pictures</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Big person pierces</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Big person touches</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Big person ignores </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Its cries and moves over</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The body of a child</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stealing it's soul</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Owning it</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Devouring it</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Discarding it</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like some broken toy</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is no longer a treasured thing</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No longer loved </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just shattered fragments</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of play.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When blood finds its child</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wild in its pain, it tries</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To heal the precious worlds.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It tries and tries</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It weeps and weeps</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It cries and cries</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But it is no use </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For some broken toys</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Their pieces run like sand</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Between the fingers that try to fix</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The fingers that try to knit together</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The cloth torn</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And some just wait</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To be reborn.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Others have clockwork energy</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fueled by fierce fires</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Others just give up </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And become the walking dead</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Frozen over like winter lakes</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They grimace through the motions </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of life</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dancers on glaciers of ice</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dead inside</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But outside so nice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no hope</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no way to cope </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Except to die</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Inside out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hope is to be</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Reborn</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In another time</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you are locked in</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A strait jacket of pain</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is little gain.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-59275540215708087362013-06-24T06:26:00.002-07:002013-06-24T06:26:29.368-07:00Chapter 4 Visitors from the Department<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
B'H</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The phone rang just before
Ella arrived. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian Witz?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Speaking. Who’s this?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> My name is Richard Walters. I work for the Education
department’s Human Resources Unit. I also liaise with government workplace
insurers. I’d like to speak with you. How are you set for today? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well…I am quite busy. How long will it take?
Can we do it tomorrow?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well, it will be about half an hour to an
hour of your time. It’s probably better to get this interview over and done
with. Haven’t you got some family staying with you? Maybe they could look after
the children for a short while.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh, yes but first I want to know what the
purpose of your interview is. What do you want from me?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> It’s purely a formality. I will have a
partner with me and he will take notes. A Mr William Robins. Do you mind if the interview is recorded. It
is no big deal. We just have to investigate all possibilities in cases like
this. I hope you understand. We are only doing our job .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I am sure you are. Did you see Maria
Costella a few days back?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yes. We did. Word gets around, doesn’t it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian was not quite
sure. He looked over at the clock. 10.30. Maybe at 5 Ella could take the kids
out to a movie or for something to eat. He also wanted to speak with Maria before
they came over. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Could you leave me your number and I will
ring you back? I have to make some arrangements for my children’s care.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Look Brian, it’s purely a formality. As I
said we have to satisfy ourselves with regard to the manner of your wife’s
death. We’ll ask you a few questions and
then we’ll be off. You will sign a statement of course. And that’s it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Richard, I am sure, it is only a formality
but I always get legal advice before I sign anything. I would want a friend in the legal profession
to look over any statement before I sign it. I hope you understand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">There was a long pause
on the other end of the phone. A soft intake of breath was all that indicated
Mr. Richard Walter’s exasperation or perhaps his irritation that this small
task was going to take so long. His reply was soft. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Alright then. Suit yourself. But it is
probably better for your mental state to have this whole business over and done
with and then you can get on with your life.
There was a clipped chill to his tone. How about 11.30. OK.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. I am sorry that’s inconvenient for me. I
think 4.30 this afternoon would be better. Goodness me, Brian thought to himself, this
man is persistent like a dripping tap but he was damned if he would let them
walk over him. They could come this afternoon and that would be that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Alright. We will change the appointment time
of another person we are interviewing. We will fit you in then. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Is it possible to have a friend present? I
think I will feel more comfortable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Again a long pause.
Richard Walters weighed up the proposition. Finally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Alright. Why not. We will see you at 4.30
this afternoon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Good. Brian said, I am grateful for your
consideration. Immediately he put down the phone, he dialed Maria’s number. The
phone rang out several times so he left a message on the fourth time for her to
call him. He must get her mobile number as soon as possible. Then he tried
Rita’s mobile and she was at a coffee shop with of all people, Maria. He told
her about the phone call. Both of them immediately offered to be present with
him at the interview. Maria suggested that he meet them at Rita’s house. He had
to wait for Ella to return before he could go. Tommy and Tracey also needed a
mid morning snack. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Ella arrived back from
the coffee shop to the joy of the children. They had finished demolishing and
decorating the lounge room and couch. They were starting on the kitchen and the
downstairs sleep out before Ella put a stop to the mess making. Tommy was
drawing pictures and he used the walls of the house as his canvas. Lorri had
bought special pens that you could wipe off with wetex or damp cloth. But he
worked with surprising speed and the furious concentration that was the prerogative
of youthful creativeness. Tracey just liked to rearrange the furniture and make
little cubby nooks. She would drag out the doonas from the bedrooms and drape
them over the chairs and couches. The towels from the bathroom indicated doors.
She had worked out a whole new interior design and made the space under the
dining room table a small goods store with various items from the pantry. They
were using the monopoly money from an old monopoly set. Ella came in to close
up the shop and got them to help her replace the doonas back on the beds and
put the towels away. Brian felt helpless. They never listened to him and he
would end up doing it. What did women have he wondered, that made them more
effective in the home. Yes, I am sure he thought there are some guys who are just
great with cooking and cleaning, but unless it was a car that he was cleaning,
the dusting and floor washing left him feeling helpless. As for ironing
clothes, forget it, he always bought drip dry for as long as he could remember.
Lorri hated ironing and her clothes also testified to that fact. Ella was
different. She said ironing helped her to think and she liked to wear her jeans
ironed with creases and her cotton tops and trousers might look casua, but it
was a worked out casual. She ironed her underpants, her towel, her bedsheets
and her pillow cases. She would have even ironed her brassieres if they needed.
Brian once asked her why and she said she liked the feel of ironed clothes’
crispness on her body. Privately Brian attributed it to their mother who also
liked ironed tablecloths and napkins and their father’s shirts were always
precisely ironed. When children are little is sometimes, monkey see and monkey
do. One of the things that Brian had loved about Lorri was her lack of
pretensions and down to earth approach to problems as well as the fact she did
not iron. They had received two irons as wedding presents and these were stuck
in the garage except when Ella visited. As a joke they had bought Ella her own
ironing board for the guest room. When Lorri was nine months pregnant with
Tracey they had Ella stay for a few weeks. Ella busied herself washing and
ironing the baby clothes that arrived just after the birth. Lorri used
disposables despite being given a huge box of 72 cloth nappies by some
environmentally conscious friends they had at the gun club where they would go
target shooting on a Sunday. They used them as mops for vomit or spilled items,
wiping the windows, shoulder protectors from baby burps but only once or twice
did these squares of toweling grace Tracey’s bottom. Ella washed and ironed
them for Lorri. Lorri said to him one night, your sister has an obsessive
nature. It will be very hard for her to find anyone who will put up with all
that ironing. By the way, do you think she has a boyfriend? Deep in a magazine
on the latest IT techo-creations and aids, Brian shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Lorri nudged him again. She is twenty-eight.
It is about time she thought seriously about meeting someone and settling down.
What do you think?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian shrugged again. I
don’t know. I’d be wary of putting that to her. She is pretty independent. She
might think you are trying to control her life. Unless you were very discrete,
ok?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Like how Brian? Getting a barby going and
inviting her with say half a dozen single guys and inviting one or two other
single women, but making sure they were as unattractive as hell, so she could
have her choice of single guys. Brian folded the magazine over and looked up at
her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You might be going to all that trouble for
nothing, you know. <br />
But why? I know my mother thinks she is
a lesbian. Lorri sighed. She said it is not normal for a young woman not to
have a boyfriend or at least flirt with available men. Ella is just a very
serious person.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You are right. My sister has always been
passionate about causes and things. She is very busy writing at the moment. She
simply does not have time for a relationship, boyfriend or husband. Your mother
belongs to the age where women were nothing without marriage and a husband.
That is how women gauged their worth society. You mother thinks every single
woman has to be available for any single man that shows the slightest bit of
interest in them. Not to do so means that you may be not normal or a lesbian. I
think Ella wants more from a relationship or a partner than the fact that he is
a man and she is a woman. Give her some space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> But she is so great with the kids. She would
be such a good mum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> But that doesn’t mean she has to marry the
first man that offers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She should also not be too fussy. She will
miss the boat and then she will really be in trouble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No she won’t. She will do what she wants in
her good time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> We need to help her find someone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Why? What if she sees it as interfering? She
may not be ready yet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The conversation
continued into a fight and it ended when Lorri’s mother also took up the torch
and argued that Ella had definite strange tendencies. Brian ended up telling
Annabel to stuff off and he and Robert Lorri’s dad had nearly come to blows.
Both had been of the opinion that Ella was reasonably attractive and they could
not understand why or how she was still single at 28 years of age. There had to
be something wrong with her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Sometimes he wondered about what she was
doing in Sydney but figured it was none of his business. Yes, she was nearly
thirty and her biological clock was tick tick tocking, but she was an
intelligent human being and she knew that too. She may just have other
priorities, he thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Quickly he told her
about the phone call from the Department. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So have someone with you when they come. Don’t
get caught up by them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah, I am going to talk with Maria and Rita
now. One of them will be with me, this afternoon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So what exactly do they want from you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> They said it is simply a formality. Not to
worry and we should get it over and done with as soon as possible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Really. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I guess they are frightened of being sued.
Or something? Who knows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You go now and meet Lorri’s friends. I’ll
take the kids out to the park for a couple of hours around four, ok? So if it
is really only a half hour to an hour they should be gone by the time we get
back, right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Have dinner ready for us when we get back,
ok? Let’s do a stir fry tonight. She called to him as he went out the door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Arriving at Rita’s
house he found both women sitting with serious faces in the kitchen. Rita had
left the back door open down the side of the house. Sitting down, he got
straight to the point. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Maria, what exactly did they want when they
came over to you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well, that was the part that bothered me
most in the interview. At first, I was sure they were just doing ‘a formality’
like you said. However the older guy, what’s his name Richard, Richard Walters
he is a real sleaze bag. He’s an ex lawyer. He tried to infer that she was
really deranged and brought up the fact that she was on a work program to
improve her teaching performance. He
literally wanted me to support his contention that she was unbalanced and he
also dropped a comment that you were six years younger than her and she had had
the kids in her forties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> And what the hell is that ment to infer?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> That she was somehow very immature that she
could not seek a partner who was at least around her age. Also wanting kids
into her forties, well she should have just accepted the fact that she wasn’t
going to have any. He asked me if she had spoken about IVF and was she
receiving treatment?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> None of his bleeding business. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Then he asked if she took a lot of time off
during her pregnancies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What a bloody load of bull. Lorri was fit and
healthy for both pregnancies despite being nearly forty four when Tracey was
born. How did he work her age into the
equation as being the problem? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh that was interesting. Question; how did you feel when the news
broke at work that she was pregnant? Didn’t it strike you as odd that she was
in her mid forties and she was pregnant? You are teacher. She was a teacher.
Wouldn’t you have expected her to be satisfied with her youthful husband? After
all child bearing is the prerogative of younger women like you. You are around
thirty, I take it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So what did you say to him when he said that?
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Maria crossed her arms. I looked him straight
in the eye and said, why should I have thought it was odd? I was bloody glad
that here was an older woman who really wanted kids and she was pregnant and
she was a great teacher. She really cared about the students and was a good
colleague in the staff room. Then he
looked at me and said, well, Maria, you are an intelligent woman and you are
probably aware of the risks of middle aged pregnancies. Don’t you think it
could have been somewhat immature of her to have a child at her age? I mean she
was closer to fifty at the last one than forty. How could she cope with
teaching and child rearing at the same time? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rita broke in. So what did you tell him when
he said that? Lots of good teachers have
children and teach – some of them teach full time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Maria paused. Yes I know. But I could see
that he had his opinion and he was trying to wheedle me into a corner to admit
that secretly I thought women who had babies at forty plus are stupid and
neurotic. I don’t. She looked across at Brian. He was very persistent. I came
away from the meeting feeling like I wanted to throw something hard at his
head. He pushed and pushed the line, suggesting ever so subtly that women who
have babies past their late thirties are somewhat neurotic, even unbalanced.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Finally Brian spoke. What about the other
guy with him? The one who was taking notes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Not a word from him almost the whole time.
Except to ask if I minded making them a coffee. He also had a recorder I
believe, although I specifically requested that there be no recording. I really
did not want what I said to be taken out of context.I think he had something in
his coat pocket. He kept patting it. You know people’s body language gives them
away at times. I did not want to confront him or ask to frisk them for
recording devices. I took them at their word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> He asked me if I minded if the interview was
recorded. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Did he now? I was sure the other guy was recording
and taking notes. He scribbled away furiously for the whole hour or so. You can
say no but they have the technology to record anyway and you would never know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rita shifted in her seat. There is not a lot
of trust left in work relationships is there? Nowadays.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Why don’t I go with you? Maria asked him. It
would give them a bit of a shock, don’t you think? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian shook his head.
Bad idea. They will know we have probably discussed this at some point.
However, I doubt that it would serve any real purpose. Better Rita who they
have not seen. They may even be planning to interview her too. Who knows? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I want to ask you
something. Rita leaned forward. Why do you think they are going to so much
trouble to blacken her reputation?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Maria answered her. It’s obvious. They don’t
want to be sued or have to pay out money to Brian and the kids. They want to
make sure her suicide is not connected to anything that has happened at her
workplace. They could not give a shit about her. They just want to destroy her reputation
because it looks bad for them. Do you remember the guy who had the breakdown
after Barry and Lee had him on this Teacher Improvement Program? Apparently he
was deemed not suitable teacher material despite a good working record in his
previous schools. Lee thought he was gay therefore prey. She picks people who
are flawed in her eyes and makes their life hell. Now he left for Maitland and
topped himself in a motel on the Midland Highway near Dookie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I think he was before our time. People talked about
it though. I heard that apparently he hung around the town for a few weeks
after leaving the school. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rita spoke. Barry’s got a bit of pull with
the police because he drinks down at the pub with them. They used to pull him
over for the slightest thing. Sometimes it was not even real, but made up. I heard Barry and the cops laughing about how
they harassed the ‘fairy boy.’ His contract had expired by the time he put an
exhaust hose in the back window of his car at the motel. Most people did not even
know that he was dead or how he died. I only found out because I was storing
some of his things and his Uncle and Aunt came down to collect them. He’d been dead for several months. It amazes
me how some people slide so easily out of the living. It is as if he was never
here, hardly anyone remembers him. He was a decent enough guy. It was a pity
that he came down to a country school like this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Why do you say that? If he was a good
teacher, they should have been glad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well they are idiots, aren’t they? He was a
history and TAS teacher. He was very good from what I hear. I talked with his
Uncle and Aunt. He had been divorced in his twenties and was just
sensitive. My Bill used to invite him
over to play chess and have a few beers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian, I want to tell you that it is not
about how well you teach in some schools. It is about who are your buddies. You
have to play politics and help the right people at the right time. You can be a
brilliant teacher but if the Principal doesn’t like you, you are literally
stuffed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Ok. Let’s have lunch. Rita, you and Brian should go around three
thirty to be there before four. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> It was then as they were walking to the
kitchen that Brian dropped the bombshell. Do you remember the stuff you brought
me the other day? Both women turned to face him. Yes. What of it? Rita asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well, I found a diary she’d written. The silence stiffened the air. It was in one of
the boxes of resources and students’ workbooks that you had bought over the other
day. Finally Maria spoke. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Don’t whatever you do let them know it. At
least not yet. Have you read it yet?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Seeing as
the police won’t give me back her letter which was addressed to me, I really do
want to finish reading it and then I will decide where this is going to go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> If you are
thinking of suing them, Brian you have Buckley’s or none.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Where is
the diary now?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian carefully drew it
out of the inside pocket of his jacket. I carry it with me. I am thinking of making
copies for the kids for later and … suddenly he sat down heavily on the stool and
began to cry. He felt mortified by his inability to control his emotions, but talking
about her, holding her diary in his hands, it was all too much. He felt flooded.
Rita gave him a box of tissues and a glass of water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I’m sorry.
So stupid of me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Of for crying
out aloud Brian. You have been so strong. It’s ok. It’s good to cry. It releases
the stress toxins in the body. You need to cry. Maria patted him clumsily on the
back. Look I am going to leave you to have some space, Rita stay with him at a distance
so he does need you, you are there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Rita moved over to the other
side of the table. He wanted to scream out Lorri’s name but thought they would think
him even more deranged than he felt. This afternoon he would have to appear very
composed. Maria walked off to prepare their lunch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rita held out her hand toBrian. Do you mind if
I have a look at her diary. I mean I won’t read anything too personal, will I? If
I read it? He shook his head and handed the
diary over to Rita and blew his nose vigorously. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-30708548660486533402013-06-20T02:19:00.000-07:002013-06-20T02:19:32.315-07:00The Demise (working Title)B'H<br />
<br />
I have put the prologue and first three chapters in one file so that readers (let's hope there are many as the text progresses) won't have to find the blog posts and it will all be in order.<br />
No one has commented and now I am thinking is my writing so insignificant and bad like me, that it did not even get short listed for Glen Eira My Brother Jack Literary Awards. I did not even get an invitation to the awards after being short listed and / or winning something for every time I entered since 2007. Except for 2011 when I did not enter.<br />
My worth as a person is only measured by what I get paid for when I write. I have no worth or purpose in this world if I cannot work at something and earn money. I am a total waste of space otherwise.A parasite and a leech on society and like my 'dear' American sister in law and brother in the USA once said it is a pity you did not commit suicide years ago. I would have saved my family a lot of grief. Apparently. Saved a lot of people a lot of grief but I am still alive and nasty as ever.<br />
<br />
Anyway here it is. About a sixth of the way through. I am sure I will get nasty Booligirl on here and the others with their comments about how I should just top myself and save trees and help my son by committing suicide and giving him a chance of a decent life. My family also agree with her. It is nice to be so loved by one's biological relatives.<br />
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Prologue<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
trees are still. Their leaves hanging limp in the heat. A kookaburra cackles - its mocking laughter
rings harshly across the cemetery headstones and slices through the heat that
bears down. There is the constant buzz of flies settling on people’s backs and
hats. The unrelenting late morning sun scorches the mourners scattered around the
freshly turned earth. A row of tall ghost gums that shelters the graves offers
little real relief from the heat. An
earthworm moved sluggishly in the blood red soil. Good clay composition, he decides. She would have approved the soil
consistency and told him to plant some daffodils and freesias in it. Maybe he
should bring some bulbs next week before the soil settles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> An hour ago he wanted to be somewhere else,
but was bound to the narrow box of polished wood, held down by his children’s
tiny hands holding his trembling fingers. They were calm. He was numbed to the day and had been for
days. Tracey had asked him if Mammy was comfortable. Thomas had brought tears
to the eyes of many when he went to the casket and patted it, then bent forward
and gave the polished wooden side a wet kiss. He had put the rough red heart
they had cut out last night and he had traced the words that Brian had written
for him – I LUV U MAMMY MISS U! XXXX on
it – he put that on top of the casket. Both he and Tracey were calm, but a
little bewildered. At three and a half
years and four nearly five years of age, death is a difficult concept to grasp.
Even for adults. Someone is there and
then they are not. Their bodily shell
reposes and bears some semblance of who they were, the features are somewhat
familiar but the light in the eyes has stilled. The vitality that flowed
through their limbs is stilled. The electricity of living is gone. There are only the worms left to hollow out
the flesh and then the bacteria sets to work erasing the loved features, taking
it all down to the essential bones of business. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> They had decided to keep the cask closed.
She would not have wanted so many people gazing down at her blood drained
features. He also did not want his children to remember a wan corpse. His
mother was displeased too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Don’t you think they should stay with
Maria’s parents? Surely you are not bringing them to the funeral?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was their mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Well, far be it for me to speak, but she
should have remembered that before…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Mum.
PLEASE. NOT now!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Ok, ok. But you have to face facts. It was
selfish. Leaving two children and a man
who loved her….why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Mum. I don’t WANT TO DISCUSS this now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Brian, you should not mourn such a weak
person overmuch. She was flawed. Dreadfully flawed and the children do not need
to go to her funeral.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was their mother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> So they are better off without her. Get
married again quickly and choose carefully. The children need a mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Oh, goody. I just go out onto the street and
shout, Hey, grieving widower needs wife now. Taking applications over here. Now
fill out this form in triplicate and if you are going to commit suicide at some
stage in the future, don’t bother applying. We’ve had that experience. Must be
good with young children. Have no transmittable diseases. A passable cook, but
willing to learn. Active and clean. An
excellent housekeeper and able to drive a car. Anything else I should add to
the criteria? Ability to tell jokes on
cue to distil awkwardness at the inlaws and last but not least, a fantastic
lover.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Well, it is not that bad, is it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> For God’s sake Mum, it is my wife’s funeral.
Today. Can’t we leave this a few weeks or months even?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> The mourners moved forward slowly following
the casket down to the opened grave. He was glad the children were with him.
They gave him more comfort through their trusting presence and calm acceptance
of Lorri’s passing into another life. Tracey’s acceptance was simply stated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Will Mummy see God every day now? When we
pray, will she hear too?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Yes, Honey, when you pray Mummy will take
your prayers straight to God. It will be like having a personal messenger to
make sure that God gets the message right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Now they were numb. The pain would come
later. Maybe even years later. When they
understood more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Rita
and Maria, Lorri’s best friends stand apart from the rest of the mourners.
Brian notices through the mind fog of a blinding headache how Lorri’s friends
grouped themselves into the specific areas of her life that he could only
wonder about. The indigenous writing
group she had started group together over to one side of the grave, the
teachers from the school – her colleagues opposite them, her grocery store
owner and some of his workers, the bank teller and others from the town where
they had spent the last three years. He
tried to find some other link that tied them to each other apart from just
knowing the deceased while she was alive. The elderly lady down the street she
used to invite over on the weekend for lunches because she knew she was a
pensioner on a low income and a single mother with six children stand at the
back of the those in the forefront, hesitantly as though they really do not
deserve to be there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Lorri’s parents had insisted on a celebrant.
They were not particularly religious. Despite he and Lorri agreeing that they
did not want religious ceremony, they had agreed that cremation was not a way
to go. Lorri wanted to be returned to the earth. Brian just thought fire was too much like the
Christian hellfire and brimstone. She thought there was something very
comforting about being returned ‘to the bowels of the earth and providing
nourishment.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘You know the first man was called
Adam? She pointed out to him once.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘And the first woman was called Eve.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Brian, you are missing my point. I just did
some research. You know Adam also means earth in Hebrew. Don’t you think that’s ironic?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘How so?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Well, if we come from the earth and we are
the agent of the earth’s destruction, isn’t that suicidal. Self destructive.
Kind of awful. We need to nurture ourselves more, don’t you think?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He remembered laughingly suggesting that they
sell the house and go to live in a tent down by the river. She became cross
with him. Then they argued and did not talk for two days. She was pregnant at
the time. He put it down to moodiness. Maybe he should have been more aware.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> The celebrant droned on about the brevity of
life and the pain of those left to cope. He stopped short of blaming anyone.
When the news had became public, some had shot questioning looks at him. Some
of the do-gooders in the community had already started talking about an
alternative home for the children and they were joined by Lorri’s parents. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Don’t you think it would be a good idea for
the children to live with us for a while? ‘ Lorri’s mum Annabel had been blunt
to the point last night before the funeral. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘No. I am still their parent. They are staying with me.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Oh Brian be reasonable. They are our flesh
and blood too. You could visit or stay
whenever you wanted. They are all we have left of her.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘I could say the same thing. They stay with
me.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘So how are you going to work? Are you going
to put them into childcare?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘No, Ella is coming stay with me. She is
writing a novel and doing some research. She will look after them.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘You sister from Sydney? But her lifestyle
is well …you know what I have heard and not from..your parents, but…’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘I know from dear Aunty George. The family’s
moral guardian. That Ella is a lesbian?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Well, is she?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘I don’t know. Never asked her. I am her
brother. Not her bloody social secretary.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Well, if she is Robert and I are going to
have to take charge.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Look Annabel. I don’t know and I don’t
care. She is my sister. Yes, she has some funny associations in Sydney, but she
is their aunt. Whether she is gay or not gay has nothing to do with my
relationship to her as a sister and as their aunt. The kids are living with me
and their aunt. You can visit anytime.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Brian, I have concerns. What if she brings
a girlfriend to the house?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Believe me she won’t. She knows better.
Besides what if I bring someone to the house? They have already started to line
up at the front door. Didn’t you know? Eligible widower with two small
children, huge mortgage and small business barely on the starting block. Most
of the young women in the town can hardly wait to get a go on. The divorcees have
already started leaving offerings of food and other comforts on my doorstep.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> The crowd edges him forward and he is given a
shovel. What do they expect him to do? Shovel earth onto the gleaming casket
nestled so in the freshly dug six by four feet hole. He digs the shovel into
the fresh pile of red dirt and stones. Lifting it up and thumping it down the
hole, it thunders in a thudding roll of earth and stone on the wooden casket.
He wants to say to someone ‘good wood that’ but does not, then feels a bellow
of grief rise to his throat but suppresses it and spades another few loads of
the good earth onto the casket before his dad noticing his son’s distress moves
forward to take the shovel from his hands.
His mother fills his mind and hands with the children when she hands him
Tommy and Tracey tugs his shirt sleeve and brings him down to another
space. He holds them close. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Then there is a hush in the group. Barry
Salmon the school principal and Lee Hammer Lorri’s head teacher come through
the gates of the cemetery, rather late.
Brian wants to refuse to be greeted or comforted. He inclines his head forward and down to hide
tears beginning to slide down his cheeks. Bending he picks Tracey up and she
burrows her head into his neck and shoulders curling her fingers into her
mouth. His arms hold the two children tightly. His jaws lock. He nods briefly
at them. It is over. They walk together
briskly over to the other family members and the business is done. They want to say to them, go away. Leave us
in peace, but the mourners show their mettle. If they truly love her they keep
silent, those unsure chatter away their awkwardness. Brian’s mother Moira turns away from Barry
Salmon’s outstretched hand and she takes a tissue from her bag to cover the
snub. Brian who was watching suppressed a smile. He knew his mother too well.
He wished Ella was here. She would not be here for two days. Caught in Bangkok
on holiday, she had been unable to get an earlier flight back to Australia.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Lee Hammer was treated to the full treatment
of Moira’s withering scorn. Moira stood
and stared straight into her face. Eyes hard as stone, she let Lee know in no
uncertain terms how she felt. Lee either pretended she did not know or really
did not care. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Such a pity. She has two young children. Oh
sorry, had two young children. Do you think it could have been post natal
depression? ……Well she doesn’t feel any pain now. Perhaps that is a good thing.
These things happen..’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Moira
gave her a glacial smile. Then turned her head away while Lee was in mid
sentence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Joel, I am so tired. When are we going back
to the house?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Picking
up the pieces<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">His watch blipped. The
noise startled him into a drowsy waking. Raising himself on one elbow, he sat
up. Blearily he looked at the clock on the wall. 8 am. He lay on the lounge
room couch hugging a cushion embroidered with Home Sweet Home surrounded by
neat purple and lilac flowers with spiky green leaves. It was pure kitsch. But
she had made all the pillows for the couch and recovered it while on maternity
leave. The pattern was the only one they had at the fabrics store. He had been prepared to buy a new couch. The
old one was resplendent with bits of smeared food from Tracey’s snacks and
crumbs which had worked their way into the crevasses between the back cushions
and the seat to fall under it in piles that had helped a mouse build nest
underneath near the ready food supply. Lorri nine months pregnant had
empathized with the mouse and her little ones.
She had gently shifted them outdoors into the garden shed. She forgot
about the snail killer high up on the shelf. She was busy buying materials for
the couch and its cushions covering it and them in a way to ensure no more crumbs collected under the
seats. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">It was a difficult
moment when Tracey reminded them of the ‘baby mices’ at breakfast one morning a
week or so later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Are the baby mices growed yet? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yes, sweetie they are probably running
around the back yard somewhere making their own nests in the grass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Lorri had looked up.
Did you check on them ever? She asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Yeah, he answered
guilelessly, shame buried deep. They seemed quite happy. In truth they did
appear to be smiling or was it a grimace of pain in death. Who knows? He buried
them under the Azaleas in a secret grave covered with woodchip mulch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You know I had thought of taking them to
school and letting the kids look after them but it seemed a pity to cage them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> He nodded agreement. She went back to her
embroidering and finished the couch and all the cushion covers except one,
before Tommy was born. That remained unfinished. Just one corner of it with the
flowers etched out but unembroidered. It
sat on the ledge in her sewing room and office. It was odd that she had not
finished it. Usually she did finish everything she started, no matter what.
Late at night. Some people read in bed. Lorri embroidered and knitted. The
cushion lay untouched for months and months. She started a lot of things in the
last couple of years since Tommy’s birth and left them incomplete. If he
reminded her, she had snapped at him and he felt her pressure bearing down on
him. He would move away and give her space to snap back into the old Lorri. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Now he thought back on
the months before last Wednesday, he realized the chasm that had opened up
between him and her. Even the children. He thought he was doing the right
thing. Give her time. Give her space. Respect her need to dwell apart, but
maybe he should have drawn closer to her and insisted she connect more with
what was happening around. Maybe that was what was wrong. He had allowed her to
paddle own canoe in rough waters and she had lost the paddle and was too far
away to call for help. He had thought she was ok and that she was doing fine.
In reality she was dry drowning and no one knew until it was too late. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> There was knocking at the door. He got up.
Rita. Tousled red hair perched like an upended mop that minimized her pale
face, all angles lost in a loose caftan top that was a cacophony of colour and
small African plait extensions hanging down her back. Baby on one hip, holding
one of her twins by the hand, the other following a close distance behind
sucking on a half a cup cake in moist paper. She liked to experiment with her
own fabrics and dressmaking. An art teacher
and artist. . She and her dress were
originals. She coloured her own fabrics
and made her own quirky fashion statement with flare. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Hi Brian. You ok? She looked past him for the children and then
looked him full in the face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. Fine. Fine. She stopped him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Don’t bullshit me. You look like crap. You
slept on the couch. He looked at her
helpless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. You are right. He sighed. You
shouldn’t swear in front of the kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You are right. Where are Tracey and Tommy?
Still asleep? Can the littlies go up to their room? Without waiting for Brian’s
consent she unlatched the twin and sent him with his sister to get Toms and
Trace out of bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So get yourself a coffee. You need it. I
wouldn’t mind one too. You making it or am I?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. He moved half heartedly towards the
kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. What?
Your parents? Where are Moira and Joel? I thought they’d be here with
you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> They decided to stay in the motel. I offered
them the spare room. But I think they are overwhelmed by the whole thing. It is
too much to actually stay here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So, and you don’t find it …painful? They
should be here with you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yes and no. I can’t go into the bedroom and
the bathroom well, it’s totally off limits.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So leave this place. Rent something and sell
the house. I would.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> It’s hard enough for the kids to lose their
mum. I can’t shift houses not just now. Think about it when Ella comes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Shit Brian. Yeah, I know, the kids are out
of earshot. You can’t sink down. I have been watching you this past week. You
are sinking. You have got to get in there and don’t let this bullshit get you
down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean? It’s not bullshit. Now
you’ve got me swearing. It is not bullshit. My wife died. She took her own
life. Instead of talking to me, to anyone who loved her about what was
upsetting her, she cut us all out and fucked us all up. She left us. She bloody
well left us for good. The effort of
talking about it exhausted him. His anger turned to a slow ache that flooded
his body and mind. He wanted to find a way to numb it. But he remembered the
children now awake coming down the stairs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rita, let’s have coffee and leave her alone
for a while. Ok. The children ran to him and he picked them both up, one in
each arm. Rita put the kettle on and got three cereal bowls out. They sat the
kids down around the table. The twins decided they needed another breakfast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Why don’t you let the kids come with us for
a few hours? We are going to the water park. Be a good break. You can catch up
on some sleep. It is a good healer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Humm, dunno.
How long before you go? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Probably in the next half hour. I have
packed a bit for lunch. Quiche, some cup cakes, salads, dips. More than enough for two small ones and an
extra big person if you change your mind and decide to come. She looked at
Brian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I don’t know. Maybe it will be good for the
kids. Gotta think a minute what I have to do today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He tried to remember if
there was anything important to do. The funeral was over two days ago now.
Lorri’s parents had returned home. His parents had stayed in a motel and they
had booked for the week. Maybe he should
sleep and catch up with his parents. Although they would be angry that he had
let them go with friends rather than them. He’d let them know. Maybe they would
go with the Lewans and give him a much needed rest. He felt like getting drunk,
drunker than he had ever been, but now he could not afford such loss of
control, not with Tracey and Tommy so dependent on him for care. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rita was moving around the kitchen
effortlessly tidying and getting the children organized. She sent them out to
the yard to get some tomatoes. Her youngest child had fallen asleep on the
couch. He sat at the kitchen table deep in morose thought and watched her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You know why I came over? She flicked the
tea towel vigorously over the wet bowls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He looked up. She
continued to tidy and wipe up the kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Two department investigators visited Maria
yesterday afternoon. She turned and lean angled her skinny butt against the
dishwasher door. Maria rang me to …warn me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian looked at her not
understanding what she was trying to tell him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What the department wants to find out is
whether Lorri is…sorry, was mentally unfit or deranged at the time she
committed suicide and long before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What are you trying to tell me? Rita, why are
you telling me this?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I am trying to warn you, Brian. They don’t
want the department or any of its officers held responsible for her death. They
are going to find you culpable or her mentally unstable before they acknowledge
any wrong doing on their part. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You mean you honestly don’t know what was
going on at work? At school? Rita sat down at the table and sighed. She was
dealing with a load of real crap at work. I know what a few people told me and
what I saw and heard. I also know how disgusted some of her faculty members
were with the way Lee was behaving. Lee was a total ruthless bitch to her. She
is ambitious as hell. Sucks up to all the right people and lies if she can to
put others in a bad light and make her look the golden girl. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> But why? What did Lorri do to her? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She didn’t have to do anything. Lee is smart,
tough and just wants to be a principal one day. She really doesn’t give a shit
about the students except to make it look as though she does. She likes to have
a few scalps hanging on her belt. Lorri wasn’t the only one. There was an
Indian guy before her. The guy that got a compassionate transfer before Lorri
came. Actually Lorri filled his position. There was also that young first year
out teacher. Rachel Seendore. The one that left and nearly had a nervous
breakdown because of the way she was treated. She did not like her from the
start. Rachel was too sensitive and soft spoken. Lovely girl, but Lee felt she
was ‘not teacher material’ and ‘would be better off being someone’s little
dishrag secretary.’ That is why she brutalized her and went for the jugular.
She gets pleasure from it. It is all about power. You really mean Lorri never talked about what
was going on. Lee was putting her down in front of the students and she had
Barry Salmon who we all know to be not the nicest of people at the best of
times had her on a program to improve her teaching. It was stuffing her head
up. Lee was probably trying to remove Lorri because she felt Lorri threatened
her in some way or other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian looked at Rita in
astonishment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">What are you talking
about? I know Lorri had been a bit down in the last few months. I’d come home
and find her red eyed and teary, but she wouldn’t say anything. She would just
say she was tired. Needed a holiday. I got her some vitamins and a tonic. I was
really worried about her. She did say at one stage there was pressure at work.
But there was the mortgage and she was paying that. We really needed her wage
as my business is only just starting to pick up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> He put his head in his hands. He did not trust himself any more. Rita
looked at him - a solid stare. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Do you know where this is leading?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. Tell me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> They will be coming to see you soon. They
are going to ask questions and they will ask you to make a statement. Be very
careful what you say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Maria said she felt awful after they left.
They got her to sign a statement about Lorri’s mental state and her work place
attitude and performance. It was only
after they had left, she realized the importance for the department of what
they were doing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian said nothing. He
felt that there was nothing he could say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She realized that what she said could be
taken several ways and twisted to make Lorri out to be a real psycho. That is why you have to be careful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Suddenly Rita caught
sight of the clock. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">8.45. Damn. Told Hugh
I’d be back in half an hour. Ok. Do you want the kids to come with us or not?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Ok. It’ll be good for them. What do they
need?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Just some bathers and a hat. Flip flops. I
have sunscreen and towels. Gotta run and let Hugh know what’s happening. Can I
leave the kids here and we will be back in five or ten minutes with the cruiser
to pick them all up. Oh and have you got seats for them?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Sure. I will take their seats out of our…my
car. Brian walked her to the door and then went quickly into the garage to
unbuckle the car seats. He had just taken them into the lounge room and
collected their backpacks when Hugh and Rita pulled up in the drive. The four
children came in from the back yard where they had been playing. Tommy and
Tracey were overjoyed about the trip. He was relieved to be able to sleep for a
few hours and block out the last week.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He took a pain killer
and a sleeping tablet. His head hit the pillow and he was asleep. His mobile
phone on the bedside table beeped with a message. It beeped a few more times in the next hour.
He slept through. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ella
Arrives <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The day Ella arrived
from Thailand it was raining. She had come through Melbourne and hired a car at
the airport. He would not have let her drive; if he had known she was getting
straight off the plane and into a car to drive five hours north over the border
into NSW. He had thought she would stay at the Airport hotel over night and
travel up the next day. She arrived barely six and a half hours after the
flight’s arrival into Australia.
Apparently it had rained the whole way up. She had stopped once for a
nap at a service station, sleeping in the car for an hour curled up on the
backseat wrapped up in a thin Mexican poncho she bought at one of the airport
shops.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rain had battered the roof and windowpanes
of the house all night. He allowed the children to sleep in. The central
heating was on and he was sitting on the couch watching some video clips of
Lorri and the kids together from the last few months. It was still hard to
believe she was gone from their lives and he was trying to figure out when the
changes had taken place. When had they started?
What could he have done to circumvent or prevent the inevitable? He had
gone through at least twenty clips from the last year. Lorri at the park with
the kids. Lorri at Tracey’s birthday party. Lorri with friends and their
children. A kindergarten concert. A crèche day for mothers, Lorri and he with
the kids all in life jackets on a boat, Lorri and he on a Tasmanian
holiday, Lorri doing crafts with the
kids at home, Lorri and the collie dog Buddy they had had for twelve months
until it met an unfortunate end because it used to chase cars on the road and
bit the wheels. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Lorri took that pretty badly. She found his
broken body by the side of the road one day coming back from work at the school
near the end of second term. She had come through the door visibly upset.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian, please don’t let the kids out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Why? What’s wrong? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I have to get a shovel. I’ve got to bury
Buddy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> My God, no!
What happened? Where is he?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> By the side of the road. He must have been
hit by a car. His skull is crushed in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh, sweetie. He had jumped up and held her
quivering body. Let me do it. You stay with the kids. He remembered that it was
the middle of July. A bitterly cold day. He found buddy’s broken body up on the
nature strip where Lorri had dragged it. The back wheel of the car or truck had
crushed his skull when it ran him over. He gathered the dog in his arms. The
body was still loose and floppy which meant that the accident had happened only
in the last few hours. Probably the idiots with their Watchtower magazines, he
thought. That afternoon, two neat young men sporting crew cuts, in identical
dark blue suits and white shirts and ties had presented themselves at his door.
Hard to get rid of and when he finally
was able to make them understand that he really did not give a flying whatever
about the coming Armageddon and JC’s imminent ‘second arrival’, they left. He
had refused the copies of their Watchtower. The younger of the two men was
almost tearful pleading with him to ‘save’ his soul. The useless bastards had
left the gate open or ajar. Maybe the dog had slipped out while they were
talking to him? Who knows? They were useless idiots going around pedaling their
religion from door to door, no respect for the beliefs of others who had better
things to do with their time. Come to think of it, what did these people do to
earn a living? He thought back to that day and digging the hole down near the
back fence in the soft muddy earth down by the big eucalyptus tree that they
had had to cut down a few weeks before Lorri ended her life. The next door
neighbor had complained about its leaves in his swimming pool. Both he and
Lorri were furious and had tried to fight its removal. However they could not
prove it but the tree began to die all of a sudden. The man who came from the
council to remove it solved the mystery. He told them that someone had drilled
some holes into the tree and poured Roundup – a toxic weedkiller – into them.
That had killed the tree. Once it was dying it was a danger to life and limb.
In a windstorm the whole thing could come crashing down. A two or three hundred
years old tree was sacrificed for someone’s swimming pool. Lorri fumed for days
at the selfishness of it all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> That bastard could have bought himself a pool
cover…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Or a net…to scoop the leaves out. Brian agreed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Instead he would rather get rid of a tree
that has been there for years and years. For his piddly little pool that will
probably not be there in twenty years time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She cried for several
days after that. It was selfish of the man. He agreed but it was unlike her to
dwell on things. He worried about her emotional state for a while and then she
appeared to get over it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> There was a sharp rap at the door and when he
opened it there was Ella. A black beanie with earmuffs taming the wisps of
honey blonde hair that threatened to escape pulled down over her forehead,
gloves and pullover that was way too big for her slight frame. She had a pair
of loose pajama type trousers in a colourful Thai cotton. She had light pink
molded plastic sandals on her tanned feet which she kicked off at the door when
she entered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Bloody wet. And freezing. I had to buy these
and the jumper in a service station near Sunbury. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So saying she drew off the gloves and
flipped the beanie off. Her hair flew up all electric. She kissed him briefly
on the cheek and strode over to the heater vent and stood over it in her bare
feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Damn. Damn. It’s so cold. She hugged her
shoulders and rocked on the balls of her feet over the vent. Finally he spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So they didn’t have your size? In jumpers?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. They were probably marketing to truckies
coming from Queensland or Northern NSW who forget how cold it can be down here,
anytime except midsummer and even then…anyway women are always better prepared.
She paused and watched his face. Usually, except when the unexpected happens. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Ok. Do you want something to eat? She shook her head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Coffee? Tea or bon ox? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. She glanced over to the big screen where
Lorri was paused in mid flight just after she had kicked a ball to Tracey and a
friend. She looked as if she was just about to fall backwards. Her face was set
in a grimace of concentration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I still don’t believe it. I mean… Ella drew
her hands up as if in supplication or prayer. WHY? She had everything to live
for. She had you, Tracey and Tommy…WHY?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian fought for
control. He felt the water build up in his eyes and cheeks. He slowly shook his
head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Did she leave a note? A letter saying why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Slowly Brian nodded and
mumbled. Yeah. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Ok. Where the fuck is it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The police have it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">What do you mean the
police have it? Have you read it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No, I mean I tried to and they took it as
evidence. Before I could even open it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You mean you have not read it yet?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. That’s right. I called 000 and they
came with the ambulance. I didn’t have time. I was more concerned that she
might still be alive. I mean, I was not thinking, shit my wife is dead; I’d
better look for her suicide note to find out why she did this. He paused. If there was one chance, one spark
of life, I wanted her back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Stupid moll. Didn’t she think of you and the
kids? That you guys might have needed her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Don’t Elly. Not in front of the children. Not
a word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So what about the note or letter? When do you
get to read it? It was addressed to you, wasn’t it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. At the moment it is evidence. There
will be an inquest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh so do they think you could have come home
early, knocked her out with some sleeping pills and booze and dumped her in the
bath and slashed her wrists while she was comatose?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Something like that. They have to
investigate all the pros and cons. Some people have acted like I drove her to
it too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You? You drive someone to suicide? You?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Ella spun round and
faced him. Her eyes searched his face. Her scrutiny was unnerving, but he was
resigned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What a load of bullshit. Unless you have
changed a hell of a lot in the last few years. What are Maria and Rita saying?
Are they sticking up for you, at least?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> It’s kind of complicated now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well, Maria was interviewed by two people
from the Department just after the funeral.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> And?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> According to Rita and Maria, they seemed
very keen to present Lorri as emotionally unstable. I think the whole idea is
to present her as a bit of flaky personality and to steer away from workplace
conditions or events at work being responsible for her emotional state.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So what’s been going on there? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I am not sure. I don’t have the full story.
Lorri did not talk shop much at home. She was becoming increasing agitated at
times and easily upset lately. I thought it was just pressures, you know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So when did Rita tell you this? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> This afternoon. She took the kids out for a
while. She told me to be careful about what I say when they come to ‘visit’ me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You know Lorri was unhappy about work when I
visited you guys about six months ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. How did you know that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well she was taking sick days all over the
place. That was unusual for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah, maybe. Look I was so tied up in getting
the business up and running. I had to look after the kids two days a week while
Lorri was at work, then she was only working four days. So we had them in
childcare one day. We talked about putting Tommy in the crèche two days as
Tracey was going to start pre-school three days a week. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> How did she feel about that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Fine, I think. Although Lee Hammer made some
comment to her about the fact that she had left it so late to have kids and now
she was dumping them in childcare instead of caring for them. She was quite
upset by that. And angry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah well it is probably jealousy. Lee is a
stupid cow. She’s is pure ambition and not much else. I’d hate to work for
someone like that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean? When did you meet her?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh last year, when I came up in December. I
went with Lorri to the school break up party. To help out with the kids and
just moral support. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Moral support?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yep. Rita was on maternity leave and Maria
was going to go. She felt really alone and isolated. That is the impression I
got. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She asked you to go?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. I met the famous Lee Hammer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> And? What happened?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She asked me if I was a relationship and who
my ‘partner’ was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. Then what?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I didn’t answer her. Instead I asked her if she fucked her husband
regularly or was he just a pretty face?
Despite himself, Brian laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well at least your sense of humour is there
somewhere. Ella chuckled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Ok, Elly what did she say then?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She got this tight angry look on her face and
looked down her nose at me. So I said, WELL? Then she turned and left. She kept
away from me for the rest of the night. Do you have herbal teas by any chance?
I would love a lemon and ginger tea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Sure. Go put your bag in the room. Take a
pair of flannel PJ’s from my chest of drawers. I am sure they’ll be warmer than
what you have.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He pottered around in
the kitchen getting them both some tea while she took her backpack up to the
spare room and changed into the pajamas. Somehow it did not feel so bad now she
was here. Elly was cool and tough. She gave him strength to see life
differently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The next morning Tommy and Tracey were
excited to see their Aunty Elly. The visit was made even sweeter with the
treats she had bought them in Thailand. A beautiful toy elephant for Tommy and
some beautiful dolls for Tracey in Thai national dress. She had also bought
some games for them. He watched her playing with the two children for a few
minutes before going into the kitchen to make them a pot of tea. When he bought
out the set up tray she looked up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Tea?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So you still don’t use tea bags? Gran trained
you well. You are one of the few people who still have time to make pots of
tea. He shrugged and poured her a cup of
tea. The atmosphere was far more relaxed now then last night when she has
arrived. He realized that he was so lost in his tragedy that he has not asked
her what was going on in her life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So, what have you been doing with yourself
Elly? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Now or next week?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I dunno. Your life moves very fast. What are
you doing now? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well I finished working for that advertising
firm two months ago. At the moment, I am doing some freelance work and ghost
writing a book. She stretched her shoulders and legs. I had to take a break so
I went to Thailand to cut loose a bit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh and what’s the book about? Who is it
about? Can they sue you for defamation?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She laughed a full deep
laugh of genuine amusement. One of the things he liked about his sister was
that she was resilient. Nothing fazed her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I can’t say. Honestly, I have to keep things
under wraps until the final proofs are in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So, why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The person I am writing about is very
private and wants a certain image presented.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So it is an authorized biography?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yes. And no.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> How do you mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The subject wants control of what is
presented in the final copy. Look I would like to have an ok but I am trying to
get all the facts down and they may not turn out quite as the biographical
subject would like. They have different perceptions and I guess they want to do
is to buy my skills to present their truth and have it promoted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian laughed. I am sure you will handle it well. You always
could see the bullshit before any of us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah, trouble is this person is paying me
money and while they are, I don’t write utter crap. You can’t buy truth. It is
what it is. Somewhere, somehow many of us have put ourselves up for sale. They
have sacrificed truth for bread and butter or cream cakes and cavier.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> They were interrupted by an argument between
the two children. Tommy decided that he really liked the dolls and had tried to
swap a doll with the elephant. Tracey was not having it. Ella went to referee
the dispute. Just at that moment, he
glanced through the French windows in the lounge room and saw Maria and Rita
coming up the driveway carrying two large cartoons. Quickly he crossed the
room, opened the front door and went out to help them carry the cartoons in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> This is everything from her desk. Rita’s
hair was pulled back into a bun. She looked wrung out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Maria had kept her dark
glasses on and her mouth was set in grim line. Brian was glad to have Lorri’s
personal notes back in the house and had been dreading going up to the school
in the next few days to collect her things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Thanks guys, but you didn’t have to…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Maria waved away his thanks. Look, Rita and
I spoke today and I said I would go up to the school and take her things before
they got a chance to go through them and take anything that was relevant. Did
you get her letter back from the police?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. Why? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well, don’t hold your breath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You may not get it back. This time Rita
added her bit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Just that. You may not get it back. Maria
and I decided we would give you a chance to find out. If you do find anything,
do yourself a favour. Get a good lawyer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Hey, just a minute. Why might they not give
it back?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian, we have got to go. Say hi to your
sister and we will catch up before the end of the week. Ok?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He saw them out the
door. Something was not right and no one was telling him exactly what was
wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
Diary<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He took the carton into
the lounge room. Then with a mug of hot tea in hand and he pulled the coffee
table up and rested his knees against it.
Then, he lifted the carton up onto the couch beside him. The tedious task of sorting began as he
separated the notebooks, plastic sleeves and folders into piles. Students’ note
books and project work, he placed on the floor near the couch. Lorri’s personal
files and lesson materials he placed on one end of the table. The work was
nearly complete when he found it. Wedged between some student notebooks near
the bottom of the box, it was a Tudor 240 page exercise book. As it did not
have a name written on the front cover, he opened it. The handwriting was
Lorri’s familiar slanting script. He began to read. The first entry was dated
sometime in 2010. Eighteen months prior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">11
March 2010<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
am not sure what the real problem is any more. Everything I am doing lately
seems to be wrong or needs redoing because it is ‘inappropriate’ or I am told
it <u>is not appealing</u> to the students.
I chose a text that Lee has told me, is just wrong for the class. I thought we
could do ‘Trust Me’ a collection of short stories but I was told they were ‘too
childish’ and I had to do ‘Before I die’ which would deal with more mature
themes. ‘She chose the text. It is rather grim. Before I die’ a short novel by
Jenny Downham, about a girl who has only a few months to live and she wants to
live life to the fullest. While it is well written, it deals with some risky
behavior by the sick girl and her girlfriend Tessa. The two girls smoke, take
drugs and indulge in some really risky sexual behaviours. Do we need to be so
obsessed with drugs, drink and rock an roll? Lee thinks it is all about
educating students to the potential dangers and teaching them to deal
situations but we leave moral issues alone. Lee and I had words about what is
appropriate and then the next day she gives me back my Visual Lit task for year
10 and tells me to make it block style and not indented. I said, ‘lee does it
really matter?’ She says ‘Of course it does. Do as I ask you.’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I see the two other Year 10 teachers’ tasks
on the desk. Neither of them is indented. They are block style. Is this petty
or what? I indent the text and she looks at it for a few seconds and says to
me, ‘I have changed my mind. It looked better before. Put it back into block
style.’ Lucky I had the text saved in
the other format. I just print it out again and take it over to her. She looks
at it. Then she takes a red pen from her set of different coloured pens laid
out on the desk, lined up next to the rubber and pencil sharpener on the left
hand corner of her desk. She slashes through the second paragraph with the
criteria and tells me ‘You need to rewrite it. The language is too
sophisticated for students in year 10.’ I could not for the life of me see what
was so difficult about the language used. So I asked her for suggestions, after
all she is the head teacher. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> There and then, she said to me, ‘you are a
teacher too, you should be able to figure it out.’ I had to redo my Year 10 task for the Visual
Literacy Unit a total of nine times and then when we finally got it right it
was the original wording except for the use of ‘organize’ instead of
‘classify’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
had changed it and changed it and then it went back to the original wording. I
was beginning to feel desperate. I have never felt so wrong in all my life. I
felt like the dumbest of the dumb. Unworthy to bear the title teacher. I just
hope that this is not going to continue. I used to always have such a good
report with my HT ‘s and students and my working colleagues. I just can’t
understand what is going wrong. I left work with a dull ache like a tight band
around my head and my heart pounding. I had marking to do, but did not want to
stay at work at the school. I decided I would do it at home and bring my work
in tomorrow in the morning. Brian will be there to get the kids up. I so need
this job. We need this job and the money. I must try and do what she wants. I
must not lose my job at any cost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian took a long sip
of his coffee. He began to feel like he might need something stronger. He
flipped through the pages of the exercise book. It was 240 pages and possible
two hundred pages of writing with possibly forty pages unwritten at the end.
The next entry was dated the 16<sup>th</sup> of March, 2010. It was a Tuesday.
It was not a long entry but it was water stained and the page was crumpled. She
had underlined several words heavily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">16<sup>th</sup>
March, 2010<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Why
is she doing this? What does she gain by it? I have not yet figured that one
out. I have always worked in collaborative workplaces.<u> It is as if she hates me</u>! I want to work with her. I do not
want to lose my job. Today one of the students passed a note in class. I
happened to be standing behind her as she passed it into my hands instead of
the student sitting behind her. I had been walking through the rows of
students. A big year nine class with 28 students and nine of them are on
behaviour cards including this girl. She tried to grab the note from my hands
and actually crushed my fingers in her effort to retrieve the note. I did not
let go of it and asked her to remove herself from the classroom. She just said
‘Make me!’ I sent a student out to get the head teacher. Then I stood next to
the door of the classroom and asked her to leave the room. She began to shout
and throw her things around. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">‘Fuckin
‘ shit. You fuckin’ dickhead of a teacher. You are a fuckin’ bleedin’
dickhead.’You know that?’ she came up to me and stood close breathing her smoke
laden breath into my face. I tried not to grimace. Then she swung her bag
around and wacked me with it. Clearly intentional. While shocking, it was not
as bad as what happened next. I gritted my teeth and said as quietly as I
could, ‘Please leave now and stand outside.’ She laughed and told the class,’
She’s in me way. Should I smack her out of me way?’ the class burst into
laughter and some applauded. Lee Hammer marched down the corridor her blonde
corkscrew curls bobbing. She stood at the door. The laughter died. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Looks as things are a bit out of control,
are they Lorri? Then she turned and
addressed the students. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> You need to behave for Mrs Witz. Don’t you
lot want to pass your School Certificate next year?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There
were a few mumblings and then an audible comment from the back row of students
carried to the front. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Ow ken we pass with a fucken shit of a
teacher like Witz. Sack the bitch and get someone else in ‘o knows what they’re
doin’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lee stood at the door and scanned the students
who fell silent. She turned to me and
the student with her bag slung by this time over her shoulder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Finish to question four,’ I told them ‘and
then write a reflective response to the text.’ I motioned with my hand for the
girl to leave the class room. Lee stood back from the door and waited. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘So what’s going on? ‘She asked Tess. Tess
screwed up her face and looked weepy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Miss took a note from me ‘and. She snatched
it and ‘urt me ‘and. She held the hand up for Lee ‘s inspection. It looked
perfectly ok apart from the chipped black nail polish. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> There was not a word to Tess about the fact
that she was not supposed to be writing notes in class and <u>no mention of the fact that black nail polish wasn’t a part of the
school uniform. </u>She turned to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Well, Mrs. Witz I guess you owe this
student an apology. She says you hurt her hand.’ The students in the row next
to the corridor wall tittered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Mrs. Hammer, I think you may not have
understood the situation. Tess was meant to be doing her work and not passing
notes in class. In fact, I confiscated the note she was passing to the student
behind her and she tried to snatch it back from me. Then she swore when she was
asked to leave the room and actually belted me with her school bag when I
insisted she leave.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘You were gunna read me bloody private note.
‘and you was standin’ in tha way otha door. ‘ow do you bleedin’ well spect me
to go out when ye fat carcass is in me way? Ay AY?’ Lee put up her hand for quiet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Shh, stop now Tess. Mrs Witz will apologise
for snatching the note. And Lorraine, you need to stand back from the door, if
you are asking a student to leave and you are in the doorway, it is kind of
contradictory. You need to give students clear instructions that they can
follow. Tess you can come with me and
finish your work. Have you got all your work and your things? I will take the
note and you can have it back after the lesson is over.’ She held out her hand
for the note and like a chastised school girl I gave it over. She turned and
said to me over her shoulder, ‘Lorraine, we need to talk in the first half of
lunch.’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘I have yard duty near the canteen.’ I blurted out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She
paused. ‘Do you? Ok, I will swap someone and you can do second half. We need to
talk.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I went back into the classroom seething and
feeling completely misrepresented and deliberately undermined. In a daze I stumbled through the last half
hour of the seventy five minute lesson. The bell went for lunch and I walked up
to the staff room. Lee was there in the staff room. She had her booted foot up
on the chair. She looked at me as I walked in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘That was most unprofessional. You are not
to touch students.’ Taken aback, I blurted out, ‘What on earth are you talking
about?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘You apparently grabbed the note from Tess
and you held her hand and used your finger to stroke her wrist. Then you stood
so close to the door that she had no choice but to use her bag between you and
her and she accidently hit you with the bag. She was so freaked out by what you
did with the note and trying to hold her arm.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> At first I was furious and then amazed. But
what was worst was that this Head Teacher was telling me that I am some sort of
female pedophile and trying to come on
to a student and a girl at that. It would have been funny, if it had not been
so disgusting. I tried to tell her my side of the story and she did not listen.
She blathered on about duty of care. I told her she should ask some of the
other students in the room what had actually happened. I had the note in my
hand because I had seen her try to pass it behind her while she had her head
down and pretending that she was working. The boy behind her had half risen in
his seat to take the note. That was what alerted me and I had indicated he was to
sit and I took the note intended for him. She realized split seconds later and
that was when all hell broke loose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
conversation with Lee Hammer was bad enough, because it ended by her saying she
would have to discuss this incident with the principal and other head teachers.
I went down to playground duty. Tess was standing over to one side with her
group of friends. They were the rough tarts of the town and proud of the fact. <u>Sad little girls.</u> I took my place near
the lunch lines and ignored them. Suddenly I felt a presence at my back. It was
one of Tess’s overweight friends with too much make-up and attitude. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She
leant close to me reeking of cigarette smoke. I moved away, but not before I
heard her whisper. ‘Lessy bitch. You are gunna get the sack. Leave Tess
alone.’ I felt something close to
palpitations and my chest hurt. I pretended I had not heard and I wanted to say
to her how dare you? Leave me alone. But I could not. I decided to ignore
irrelevant behaviour and do my duty. The bell went and I was lucky I had a
spare. I decided to revise my lesson plans and do my registers for the first
semester. The events of the day had upset me.
Things were to get worst. Lee came
in at the end of the day and told me that she had arranged a meeting with the
principal and her to talk about my issues. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
want to talk to Brian about this but it seems so stupid. How do I say to my
husband, one of the students today accused me of making a pass at her when I
disciplined her for doing the wrong thing in class. Is he going to believe me? Is anyone going to
believe me? The Head Teacher did not believe me. I decided to read and just do
my job and it will all sort out. Hopefully.
Tonight is Tommy’s second birthday. Work has become such an
uncomfortable place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian stopped reading. He put the exercise
book down and walked over to the room they used as their office. There on the
desk was Lorri’s last letter to him. He did not want to read it again. Instead
he went to the phone and called Ella. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Where are you?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Down
in the coffee shop writing. What’s up, bro?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Can you come back soon? I found a diary of
Lorri’s in all that stuff that Maria and Rita bought over from the school.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Ok. Where are the kids?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘They are with Rita and her children. She
picked them up from childcare at midday and they are in the park.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Ok. I will come now. Have you made anything
for dinner or do you want me to get something from the supermarket? Why don’t
we have fish?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Fish sounds good. Ok. See you when you get
here.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">
‘Brian..’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Yes..?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Get rid of the old man kvetch. You sound
half dead.’ The phone went dead and he debated whether to ring her back to
protest or ask her what she meant by that remark. Instead he went into the
kitchen and began to do the dishes. If they were going to make dinner, it
should be in a clean and tidy kitchen. The potted happy plant looked very
unhappy. He sprayed it and gave it some water. Then he had to clear the ledge
of dead and dying herbs. The floor needed cleaning and the refrigerator was
smeared with small palm prints. The family would soon be home with one notable
exception. He needed to clean up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-45432744971149738222013-06-19T06:54:00.000-07:002013-06-19T06:54:15.236-07:00Ella Arrives <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The day Ella arrived
from Thailand it was raining. She had come through Melbourne and hired a car at
the airport. He would not have let her drive; if he had known she was getting
straight off the plane and into a car to drive five hours north over the border
into NSW. He had thought she would stay at the Airport hotel over night and
travel up the next day. She arrived barely six and a half hours after the
flight’s arrival into Australia. Apparently it had rained the whole way up. She
had stopped once for a nap at a service station, sleeping in the car for an
hour curled up on the backseat wrapped up in a thin Mexican poncho she bought
at one of the airport shops.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rain had battered the roof and windowpanes
of the house all night. He allowed the children to sleep in. The central
heating was on and he was sitting on the couch watching some video clips of
Lorri and the kids together from the last few months. It was still hard to
believe she was gone from their lives and he was trying to figure out when the
changes had taken place. When had they started?
What could he have done to circumvent or prevent the inevitable? He had
gone through at least twenty clips from the last year. Lorri at the park with
the kids. Lorri at Tracey’s birthday party. Lorri with friends and their
children. A kindergarten concert. A crèche day for mothers, Lorri and he with
the kids all in life jackets on a boat, Lorri and he on a Tasmanian holiday, Lorri doing crafts with the kids at home,
Lorri and the collie dog Buddy they had had for twelve months until it met an
unfortunate end because it used to chase cars on the road and bit the wheels. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Lorri took that pretty badly. She found his
broken body by the side of the road one day coming back from work at the school
near the end of second term. She had come through the door visibly upset.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian, please don’t let the kids out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Why? What’s wrong? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I have
to get a shovel. I’ve got to bury Buddy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> My God, no!
What happened? Where is he?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> By the side of the road. He must have been
hit by a car. His skull is crushed in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh, sweetie. He had jumped up and held her
quivering body. Let me do it. You stay with the kids. He remembered that it was
the middle of July. A bitterly cold day. He found buddy’s broken body up on the
nature strip where Lorri had dragged it. The back wheel of the car or truck had
crushed his skull when it ran him over. He gathered the dog in his arms. The
body was still loose and floppy which meant that the accident had happened only
in the last few hours. Probably the idiots with their Watchtower magazines, he
thought. That afternoon, two neat young men sporting crew cuts, in identical
dark blue suits and white shirts and ties had presented themselves at his door.
Hard to get rid of and when he finally
was able to make them understand that he really did not give a flying whatever
about the coming Armageddon and JC’s imminent ‘second arrival’, they left. He
had refused the copies of their Watchtower. The younger of the two men was
almost tearful pleading with him to ‘save’ his soul. The useless bastards had
left the gate open or ajar. Maybe the dog had slipped out while they were
talking to him? Who knows? They were useless idiots going around pedaling their
religion from door to door, no respect for the beliefs of others who had better
things to do with their time. Come to think of it, what did these people do to
earn a living? He thought back to that day and digging the hole down near the
back fence in the soft muddy earth down by the big eucalyptus tree that they
had had to cut down a few weeks before Lorri ended her life. The next door
neighbor had complained about its leaves in his swimming pool. Both he and
Lorri were furious and had tried to fight its removal. However they could not
prove it but the tree began to die all of a sudden. The man who came from the
council to remove it solved the mystery. He told them that someone had drilled
some holes into the tree and poured Roundup – a toxic weedkiller – into them.
That had killed the tree. Once it was dying it was a danger to life and limb.
In a windstorm the whole thing could come crashing down. A two or three hundred
years old tree was sacrificed for someone’s swimming pool. Lorri fumed for days
at the selfishness of it all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> That bastard could have bought himself a pool
cover…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Or a net…to scoop the leaves out. Brian agreed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Instead he would rather get rid of a tree
that has been there for years and years. For his piddly little pool that will
probably not be there in twenty years time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She cried for several
days after that. It was selfish of the man. He agreed but it was unlike her to
dwell on things. He worried about her emotional state for a while and then she
appeared to get over it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> There was a sharp rap at the door and when he
opened it there was Ella. A black beanie with earmuffs taming the wisps of
honey blonde hair that threatened to escape pulled down over her forehead,
gloves and pullover that was way too big for her slight frame. She had a pair
of loose pajama type trousers in a colourful Thai cotton. She had light pink
molded plastic sandals on her tanned feet which she kicked off at the door when
she entered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Bloody wet. And freezing. I had to buy these
and the jumper in a service station near Sunbury. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So saying she drew off the gloves and
flipped the beanie off. Her hair flew up all electric. She kissed him briefly
on the cheek and strode over to the heater vent and stood over it in her bare
feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Damn. Damn.
It’s so cold. She hugged her shoulders and rocked on the balls of her feet over
the vent. Finally he spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So they didn’t have your size? In jumpers?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. They were probably marketing to truckies
coming from Queensland or Northern NSW who forget how cold it can be down here,
anytime except midsummer and even then…anyway women are always better prepared.
She paused and watched his face. Usually, except when the unexpected happens. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Ok. Do you want something to eat? She shook her head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Coffee? Tea or bon ox? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. She glanced over to the big screen where
Lorri was paused in mid flight just after she had kicked a ball to Tracey and a
friend. She looked as if she was just about to fall backwards. Her face was set
in a grimace of concentration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I still don’t believe it. I mean… Ella drew
her hands up as if in supplication or prayer. WHY? She had everything to live
for. She had you, Tracey and Tommy…WHY?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian fought for
control. He felt the water build up in his eyes and cheeks. He slowly shook his
head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Did she leave a note? A letter saying why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Slowly Brian nodded and
mumbled. Yeah. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Ok. Where the fuck is it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The police have it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">What do you mean the
police have it? Have you read it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No, I mean I tried to and they took it as
evidence. Before I could even open it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You mean you have not read it yet?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. That’s right. I called 000 and they
came with the ambulance. I didn’t have time. I was more concerned that she
might still be alive. I mean, I was not thinking, shit my wife is dead; I’d
better look for her suicide note to find out why she did this. He paused. If there was one chance, one spark
of life, I wanted her back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Stupid moll. Didn’t she think of you and the
kids? That you guys might have needed her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Don’t Elly. Not in front of the children. Not
a word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So what about the note or letter? When do you
get to read it? It was addressed to you, wasn’t it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. At the moment it is evidence. There
will be an inquest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh so do they think you could have come home
early, knocked her out with some sleeping pills and booze and dumped her in the
bath and slashed her wrists while she was comatose?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Something like that. They have to
investigate all the pros and cons. Some people have acted like I drove her to
it too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You? You drive someone to suicide? You?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Ella spun round and faced
him. Her eyes searched his face. Her scrutiny was unnerving, but he was
resigned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What a load of bullshit. Unless you have
changed a hell of a lot in the last few years. What are Maria and Rita saying?
Are they sticking up for you, at least?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> It’s kind of complicated now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well, Maria was interviewed by two people
from the Department just after the funeral.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> And?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> According to Rita and Maria, they seemed
very keen to present Lorri as emotionally unstable. I think the whole idea is
to present her as a bit of flaky personality and to steer away from workplace
conditions or events at work being responsible for her emotional state.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So what’s been going on there? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I am not sure. I don’t have the full story.
Lorri did not talk shop much at home. She was becoming increasing agitated at
times and easily upset lately. I thought it was just pressures, you know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So when did Rita tell you this? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> This afternoon. She took the kids out for a
while. She told me to be careful about what I say when they come to ‘visit’ me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You know Lorri was unhappy about work when I
visited you guys about six months ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. How did you know that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well she was taking sick days all over the
place. That was unusual for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah, maybe. Look I was so tied up in getting
the business up and running. I had to look after the kids two days a week while
Lorri was at work, then she was only working four days. So we had them in
childcare one day. We talked about putting Tommy in the crèche two days as
Tracey was going to start pre-school three days a week. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> How did she feel about that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Fine, I think. Although Lee Hammer made some
comment to her about the fact that she had left it so late to have kids and now
she was dumping them in childcare instead of caring for them. She was quite
upset by that. And angry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah well it is probably jealousy. Lee is a
stupid cow. She’s is pure ambition and not much else. I’d hate to work for
someone like that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean? When did you meet her?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh last year, when I came up in December. I
went with Lorri to the school break up party. To help out with the kids and
just moral support. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Moral support?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yep. Rita was on maternity leave and Maria
was going to go. She felt really alone and isolated. That is the impression I
got. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She asked you to go?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. I met the famous Lee Hammer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> And? What happened?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She asked me if I was a relationship and who
my ‘partner’ was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. Then what?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I didn’t answer her. Instead I asked her if she fucked her husband
regularly or was he just a pretty face?
Despite himself, Brian laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well at least your sense of humour is there
somewhere. Ella chuckled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Ok, Elly what did she say then?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She got this tight angry look on her face and
looked down her nose at me. So I said, WELL? Then she turned and left. She kept
away from me for the rest of the night. Do you have herbal teas by any chance?
I would love a lemon and ginger tea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Sure. Go put your bag in the room. Take a
pair of flannel PJ’s from my chest of drawers. I am sure they’ll be warmer than
what you have.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He pottered around in
the kitchen getting them both some tea while she took her backpack up to the
spare room and changed into the pajamas. Somehow it did not feel so bad now she
was here. Elly was cool and tough. She gave him strength to see life
differently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The next morning Tommy and Tracey were
excited to see their Aunty Elly. The visit was made even sweeter with the
treats she had bought them in Thailand. A beautiful toy elephant for Tommy and
some beautiful dolls for Tracey in Thai national dress. She had also bought
some games for them. He watched her playing with the two children for a few
minutes before going into the kitchen to make them a pot of tea. When he bought
out the set up tray she looked up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Tea?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So you still don’t use tea bags? Gran trained
you well. You are one of the few people who still have time to make pots of
tea. He shrugged and poured her a cup of
tea. The atmosphere was far more relaxed now then last night when she has
arrived. He realized that he was so lost in his tragedy that he has not asked
her what was going on in her life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So, what have you been doing with yourself
Elly? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Now or next week?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I dunno. Your life moves very fast. What are
you doing now? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well I finished working for that advertising
firm two months ago. At the moment, I am doing some freelance work and ghost
writing a book. She stretched her shoulders and legs. I had to take a break so
I went to Thailand to cut loose a bit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Oh and what’s the book about? Who is it
about? Can they sue you for defamation?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">She laughed a full deep
laugh of genuine amusement. One of the things he liked about his sister was
that she was resilient. Nothing fazed her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I can’t say. Honestly, I have to keep things
under wraps until the final proofs are in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So, why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The person I am writing about is very
private and wants a certain image presented.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So it is an authorized biography?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yes. And no.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> How do you mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> The subject wants control of what is
presented in the final copy. Look I would like to have an ok but I am trying to
get all the facts down and they may not turn out quite as the biographical
subject would like. They have different perceptions and I guess they want to do
is to buy my skills to present their truth and have it promoted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian laughed. I am sure you will handle it well. You always
could see the bullshit before any of us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah, trouble is this person is paying me
money and while they are, I don’t write utter crap. You can’t buy truth. It is
what it is. Somewhere, somehow many of us have put ourselves up for sale. They
have sacrificed truth for bread and butter or cream cakes and cavier.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> They were interrupted by an argument between
the two children. Tommy decided that he really liked the dolls and had tried to
swap a doll with the elephant. Tracey was not having it. Ella went to referee
the dispute. Just at that moment, he glanced
through the French windows in the lounge room and saw Maria and Rita coming up
the driveway carrying two large cartoons. Quickly he crossed the room, opened
the front door and went out to help them carry the cartoons in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> This is everything from her desk. Rita’s
hair was pulled back into a bun. She looked wrung out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Maria had kept her dark
glasses on and her mouth was set in grim line. Brian was glad to have Lorri’s
personal notes back in the house and had been dreading going up to the school
in the next few days to collect her things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Thanks guys, but you didn’t have to…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Maria waved away his thanks. Look, Rita and
I spoke today and I said I would go up to the school and take her things before
they got a chance to go through them and take anything that was relevant. Did
you get her letter back from the police?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. Why? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Well, don’t hold your breath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You may not get it back. This time Rita
added her bit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Just that. You may not get it back. Maria
and I decided we would give you a chance to find out. If you do find anything,
do yourself a favour. Get a good lawyer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Hey, just a minute. Why might they not give
it back?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian, we have got to go. Say hi to your
sister and we will catch up before the end of the week. Ok?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He saw them out the
door. Something was not right and no one was telling him exactly what was wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-65228616639447251612013-06-16T21:41:00.000-07:002013-06-16T21:41:08.504-07:00The Diary Chapter 3 ( two only half finished)<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He took the carton into
the lounge room. Then with a mug of hot tea in hand and he pulled the coffee
table up and rested his knees against it.
Then, he lifted the carton up onto the couch beside him. The tedious task of sorting began as he separated
the notebooks, plastic sleeves and folders into piles. Students’ note books and
project work, he placed on the floor near the couch. Lorri’s personal files and
lesson materials he placed on one end of the table. The work was nearly
complete when he found it. Wedged between some student notebooks near the
bottom of the box, it was a Tudor 240 page exercise book. As it did not have a
name written on the front cover, he opened it. The handwriting was Lorri’s
familiar slanting script. He began to read. The first entry was dated sometime
in 2010. Eighteen months prior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">11
March 2010<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
am not sure what the real problem is any more. Everything I am doing lately
seems to be wrong or needs redoing because it is ‘inappropriate’ or I am told
it <u>is not appealing</u> to the students.
I chose a text that Lee has told me, is just wrong for the class. I thought we
could do ‘Trust Me’ a collection of short stories but I was told they were ‘too
childish’ and I had to do ‘Before I die’ which would deal with more mature themes.
‘She chose the text. It is rather grim. Before I die’ a short novel by Jenny
Downham, about a girl who has only a few months to live and she wants to live
life to the fullest. While it is well written, it deals with some risky
behavior by the sick girl and her girlfriend Tessa. The two girls smoke, take drugs
and indulge in some really risky sexual behaviours. Do we need to be so
obsessed with drugs, drink and rock an roll? Lee thinks it is all about
educating students to the potential dangers and teaching them to deal situations
but we leave moral issues alone. Lee and I had words about what is appropriate
and then the next day she gives me back my Visual Lit task for year 10 and
tells me to make it block style and not indented. I said, ‘lee does it really
matter?’ She says ‘Of course it does. Do as I ask you.’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I see the two other Year 10 teachers’ tasks
on the desk. Neither of them is indented. They are block style. Is this petty
or what? I indent the text and she looks at it for a few seconds and says to
me, ‘I have changed my mind. It looked better before. Put it back into block
style.’ Lucky I had the text saved in
the other format. I just print it out again and take it over to her. She looks
at it. Then she takes a red pen from her set of different coloured pens laid
out on the desk, lined up next to the rubber and pencil sharpener on the left
hand corner of her desk. She slashes through the second paragraph with the
criteria and tells me ‘You need to rewrite it. The language is too sophisticated
for students in year 10.’ I could not for the life of me see what was so
difficult about the language used. So I asked her for suggestions, after all
she is the head teacher. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> There
and then, she said to me, ‘you are a teacher too, you should be able to figure
it out.’ I had to redo my Year 10 task
for the Visual Literacy Unit a total of nine times and then when we finally got
it right it was the original wording except for the use of ‘organize’ instead
of ‘classify’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
had changed it and changed it and then it went back to the original wording. I
was beginning to feel desperate. I have never felt so wrong in all my life. I
felt like the dumbest of the dumb. Unworthy to bear the title teacher. I just
hope that this is not going to continue. I used to always have such a good
report with my HT ‘s and students and my working colleagues. I just can’t
understand what is going wrong. I left work with a dull ache like a tight band
around my head and my heart pounding. I had marking to do, but did not want to
stay at work at the school. I decided I would do it at home and bring my work
in tomorrow in the morning. Brian will be there to get the kids up. I so need
this job. We need this job and the money. I must try and do what she wants. I
must not lose my job at any cost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian took a long sip
of his coffee. He began to feel like he might need something stronger. He
flipped through the pages of the exercise book. It was 240 pages and possible
two hundred pages of writing with possibly forty pages unwritten at the end.
The next entry was dated the 16<sup>th</sup> of March, 2010. It was a Tuesday.
It was not a long entry but it was water stained and the page was crumpled. She
had underlined several words heavily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">16<sup>th</sup>
March, 2010<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Why
is she doing this? What does she gain by it? I have not yet figured that one
out. I have always worked in collaborative workplaces.<u> It is as if she hates me</u>! I want to work with her. I do not
want to lose my job. Today one of the students passed a note in class. I
happened to be standing behind her as she passed it into my hands instead of
the student sitting behind her. I had been walking through the rows of
students. A big year nine class with 28 students and nine of them are on
behaviour cards including this girl. She tried to grab the note from my hands
and actually crushed my fingers in her effort to retrieve the note. I did not
let go of it and asked her to remove herself from the classroom. She just said
‘Make me!’ I sent a student out to get the head teacher. Then I stood next to
the door of the classroom and asked her to leave the room. She began to shout
and throw her things around. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">‘Fuckin
‘ shit. You fuckin’ dickhead of a teacher. You are a fuckin’ bleedin’
dickhead.’You know that?’ she came up to me and stood close breathing her smoke
laden breath into my face. I tried not to grimace. Then she swung her bag
around and wacked me with it. Clearly intentional. While shocking, it was not
as bad as what happened next. I gritted my teeth and said as quietly as I
could, ‘Please leave now and stand outside.’ She laughed and told the class,’
She’s in me way. Should I smack her out of me way?’ the class burst into
laughter and some applauded. Lee Hammer marched down the corridor her blonde
corkscrew curls bobbing. She stood at the door. The laughter died. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Looks as things are a bit out of control,
are they Lorri? Then she turned and
addressed the students. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> You need to behave for Mrs Witz. Don’t you
lot want to pass your School Certificate next year?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There
were a few mumblings and then an audible comment from the back row of students carried
to the front. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Ow ken we pass with a fucken shit of a
teacher like Witz. Sack the bitch and get someone else in ‘o knows what they’re
doin’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lee stood at the door and scanned the students
who fell silent. She turned to me and
the student with her bag slung by this time over her shoulder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Finish to question four,’ I told them ‘and
then write a reflective response to the text.’ I motioned with my hand for the
girl to leave the class room. Lee stood back from the door and waited. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘So what’s going on? ‘She asked Tess. Tess
screwed up her face and looked weepy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Miss took a note from me ‘and. She snatched
it and ‘urt me ‘and. She held the hand up for Lee ‘s inspection. It looked perfectly
ok apart from the chipped black nail polish. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> There was not a word to Tess about the fact
that she was not supposed to be writing notes in class and <u>no mention of the fact that black nail polish wasn’t a part of the
school uniform. </u>She turned to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Well, Mrs. Witz I guess you owe this
student an apology. She says you hurt her hand.’ The students in the row next
to the corridor wall tittered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Mrs. Hammer, I think you may not have
understood the situation. Tess was meant to be doing her work and not passing
notes in class. In fact, I confiscated the note she was passing to the student
behind her and she tried to snatch it back from me. Then she swore when she was
asked to leave the room and actually belted me with her school bag when I
insisted she leave.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘You were gunna read me bloody private note.
‘and you was standin’ in tha way otha door. ‘ow do you bleedin’ well spect me
to go out when ye fat carcass is in me way? Ay AY?’ Lee put up her hand for quiet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘Shh, stop now Tess. Mrs Witz will apologise
for snatching the note. And Lorraine, you need to stand back from the door, if
you are asking a student to leave and you are in the doorway, it is kind of
contradictory. You need to give students clear instructions that they can
follow. Tess you can come with me and
finish your work. Have you got all your work and your things? I will take the
note and you can have it back after the lesson is over.’ She held out her hand
for the note and like a chastised school girl I gave it over. She turned and
said to me over her shoulder, ‘Lorraine, we need to talk in the first half of
lunch.’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘I have yard duty near the canteen.’ I blurted out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She
paused. ‘Do you? Ok, I will swap someone and you can do second half. We need to
talk.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> I went back into the classroom seething and
feeling completely misrepresented and deliberately undermined. In a daze I stumbled through the last half
hour of the seventy five minute lesson. The bell went for lunch and I walked up
to the staff room. Lee was there in the staff room. She had her booted foot up
on the chair. She looked at me as I walked in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘That was most unprofessional. You are not
to touch students.’ Taken aback, I blurted out, ‘What on earth are you talking
about?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> ‘You apparently grabbed the note from Tess
and you held her hand and used your finger to stroke her wrist. Then you stood
so close to the door that she had no choice but to use her bag between you and
her and she accidently hit you with the bag. She was so freaked out by what you
did with the note and trying to hold her arm.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> At first I was furious and then amazed. But
what was worst was that this Head Teacher was telling me that I am some sort of
female pedophile and trying to come on
to a student and a girl at that. It would have been funny, if it had not been
so disgusting. I tried to tell her my side of the story and she did not listen.
She blathered on about duty of care. I told her she should ask some of the
other students in the room what had actually happened. I had the note in my
hand because I had seen her try to pass it behind her while she had her head
down and pretending that she was working. The boy behind her had half risen in
his seat to take the note. That was what alerted me and I had indicated he was
to sit and I took the note intended for him. She realized split seconds later
and that was when all hell broke loose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The
conversation with Lee Hammer was bad enough, because it ended by her saying she
would have to discuss this incident with the principal and other head teachers.
I went down to playground duty. Tess was standing over to one side with her
group of friends. They were the rough tarts of the town and proud of the fact. <u>Sad little girls.</u> I took my place near
the lunch lines and ignored them. Suddenly I felt a presence at my back. It was
one of Tess’s overweight friends with too much make-up and attitude. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She
leant close to me reeking of cigarette smoke. I moved away, but not before I
heard her whisper. ‘Lessy bitch. You are gunna get the sack. Leave Tess
alone.’ I felt something close to
palpitations and my chest hurt. I pretended I had not heard and I wanted to say
to her how dare you? Leave me alone. But I could not. I decided to ignore
irrelevant behaviour and do my duty. The bell went and I was lucky I had a
spare. I decided to revise my lesson plans and do my registers for the first
semester. The events of the day had upset me.
Things were to get worst. Lee
came in at the end of the day and told me that she had arranged a meeting with
the principal and her to talk about my issues. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I
want to talk to Brian about this but it seems so stupid. How do I say to my
husband, one of the students today accused me of making a pass at her when I
disciplined her for doing the wrong thing in class. Is he going to believe me? Is anyone going to
believe me? The Head Teacher did not believe me. I decided to read and just do
my job and it will all sort out. Hopefully.
Tonight is Tommy’s second birthday. Work has become such an uncomfortable
place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Brian stopped reading. He put the exercise
book down and walked over to the room they used as their office. There on the
desk was Lorri’s last letter to him. He did not want to read it again. Instead
he went to the phone and called Ella. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Where are you?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Down in the coffee shop writing. What’s up,
bro?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Can you come back soon? I found a diary of
Lorri’s in all that stuff that Maria and Rita bought over from the school.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Ok. Where are the kids?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘They are with Rita and her children. She
picked them up from childcare at midday and they are in the park.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Ok. I will come now. Have you made anything
for dinner or do you want me to get something from the supermarket? Why don’t
we have fish?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Fish sounds good. Ok. See you when you get
here.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Brian..’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Yes..?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> ‘Get rid of the old man kvetch. You sound
half dead.’ The phone went dead and he debated whether to ring her back to
protest or ask her what she meant by that remark. Instead he went into the
kitchen and began to do the dishes. If they were going to make dinner, it
should be in a clean and tidy kitchen. The potted happy plant looked very
unhappy. He sprayed it and gave it some water. Then he had to clear the ledge
of dead and dying herbs. The floor needed cleaning and the refrigerator was
smeared with small palm prints. The family would soon be home with one notable
exception. He needed to clean up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-19881465193881043392013-06-13T07:32:00.000-07:002013-06-13T07:32:06.694-07:00Chapter 1 Picking up the pieces<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Picking
up the pieces<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">His watch blipped. It
startled him. Raising himself up on one elbow he sat up. Blearily he looked at
the clock on the wall. 8 am. He lay on the lounge room couch hugging a cushion
embroidered with Home Sweet Home surrounded by neat purple and lilac flowers
with spiky green leaves. It was terribly kitsch. But she had made all the
pillows for the couch and recovered it while on maternity leave. The pattern
was the only one they had at the fabrics store. He had been prepared to buy a new couch. The
old one was resplendent with bits of smeared food from Tracey’s snacks and
crumbs which had worked their way into the crevasses between the back cushions
and the seat to fall under it in piles that had helped a mouse build nest
underneath near the ready food supply. Lorri nine months pregnant had
empathized with the mouse and her little ones.
She had gently shifted them outdoors into the garden shed. She forgot
about the snail killer high up on the shelf. She was busy buying materials for
the couch and its cushions covering it and them in a way to ensure no more crumbs collected under the
seats. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">It was a difficult
moment when Tracey reminded them of the ‘baby mices’ at breakfast one morning a
week or so later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Are the baby mices growed yet? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yes, sweetie they are probably running
around the back yard somewhere making their own nests in the grass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Lorri had looked up.
Did you check on them ever? She asked. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Yeah, he answered
guilelessly, shame buried deep. They seemed quite happy. In truth they did
appear to be smiling or was it a grimace of pain in death. Who knows? He buried
them under the Azaleas in a secret grave covered with woodchip mulch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You know I had thought of taking them to
school and letting the kids look after them but it seemed a pity to cage them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> He nodded agreement. She went back to her
embroidering and finished the couch and all the cushion covers except one,
before Tommy was born. That remained unfinished. Just one corner of it with the
flowers etched out but unembroidered. It
sat on the ledge in her sewing room and office. It was odd that she had not
finished it. Usually she did finish everything she started, no matter what.
Late at night. Some people read in bed. Lorri embroidered and knitted. The
cushion lay untouched for months and months. She started a lot of things in the
last couple of years since Tommy’s birth and left them incomplete. If he
reminded her, she had snapped at him and he felt her pressure bearing down on
him. He would move away and give her space to snap back into the old Lorri. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Now he thought back on
the months before last Wednesday, he realized the chasm that had opened up
between him and her. Even the children. He thought he was doing the right
thing. Give her time. Give her space. Respect her need to dwell apart, but
maybe he should have drawn closer to her and insisted she connect more with
what was happening around. Maybe that was what was wrong. He had allowed her to
paddle own canoe in rough waters and she had lost the paddle and was too far
away to call for help. He had thought she was ok and that she was doing fine.
In reality she was dry drowning and no one knew until it was too late. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> There was knocking at the door. He got up.
Rita. Tousled red hair perched like an upended mop that minimized her pale
face, all angles lost in a loose caftan top that was a cacophony of colour and
small African plait extensions hanging down her back. Baby on one hip, holding
one of her twins by the hand, the other following a close distance behind
sucking on a half a cup cake in moist paper. She liked to experiment with her
own fabrics and dressmaking. An art
teacher and artist. . She and her dress
were originals. She coloured her own
fabrics and made her own quirky fashion statement with flare. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Hi Brian. You ok? She looked past him for the children and then
looked him full in the face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. Fine. Fine. She stopped him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Don’t bullshit me. You look like crap. You
slept on the couch. He looked at her
helpless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. You are right. He sighed. You
shouldn’t swear in front of the kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You are right. Where are Tracey and Tommy?
Still asleep? Can the littlies go up to their room? Without waiting for Brian’s
consent she unlatched the twin and sent him with his sister to get Toms and
Trace out of bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So get yourself a coffee. You need it. I
wouldn’t mind one too. You making it or am I?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. He moved half heartedly towards the
kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yeah. What? Your parents? Where are Moira and Joel? I
thought they’d be here with you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> They decided to stay in the motel. I offered
them the spare room. But I think they are overwhelmed by the whole thing. It is
too much to actually stay here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So, and you don’t find it …painful? They
should be here with you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Yes and no. I can’t go into the bedroom and
the bathroom well, it’s totally off limits.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> So leave this place. Rent something and sell
the house. I would.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> It’s hard enough for the kids to lose their
mum. I can’t shift houses not just now. Think about it when Ella comes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Shit Brian. Yeah, I know, the kids are out
of earshot. You can’t sink down. I have been watching you this past week. You
are sinking. You have got to get in there and don’t let this bullshit get you
down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean? It’s not bullshit. Now
you’ve got me swearing. It is not bullshit. My wife died. She took her own
life. Instead of talking to me, to anyone who loved her about what was
upsetting her, she cut us all out and fucked us all up. She left us. She bloody
well left us for good. The effort of
talking about it exhausted him. His anger turned to a slow ache that flooded
his body and mind. He wanted to find a way to numb it. But he remembered the
children now awake coming down the stairs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rita, let’s have coffee and leave her alone
for a while. Ok. The children ran to him and he picked them both up, one in
each arm. Rita put the kettle on and got three cereal bowls out. They sat the
kids down around the table. The twins decided they needed another breakfast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Why don’t you let the kids come with us for
a few hours? We are going to the water park. Be a good break. You can catch up
on some sleep. It is a good healer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Humm,
dunno. How long before you go? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Probably in the next half hour. I have
packed a bit for lunch. Quiche, some cup cakes, salads, dips. More than enough for two small ones and an
extra big person if you change your mind and decide to come. She looked at Brian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I don’t know. Maybe it will be good for the
kids. Gotta think a minute what I have to do today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He tried to remember if
there was anything important to do. The funeral was over two days ago now.
Lorri’s parents had returned home. His parents had stayed in a motel and they
had booked for the week. Maybe he should
sleep and catch up with his parents. Although they would be angry that he had
let them go with friends rather than them. He’d let them know. Maybe they would
go with the Lewans and give him a much needed rest. He felt like getting drunk,
drunker than he had ever been, but now he could not afford such loss of control,
not with Tracey and Tommy so dependent on him for care. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Rita was moving around the kitchen
effortlessly tidying and getting the children organized. She sent them out to
the yard to get some tomatoes. Her youngest child had fallen asleep on the
couch. He sat at the kitchen table deep in morose thought and watched her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You know why I came over? She flicked the
tea towel vigorously over the wet bowls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He looked up. She
continued to tidy and wipe up the kitchen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Two department investigators visited Maria
yesterday afternoon. She turned and lean angled her skinny butt against the
dishwasher door. Maria rang me to …warn me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian looked at her not
understanding what she was trying to tell him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What the department wants to find out is
whether Lorri is…sorry, was mentally unfit or deranged at the time she
committed suicide and long before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What are you trying to tell me? Rita, why are
you telling me this?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> I am trying to warn you, Brian. They don’t
want the department or any of its officers held responsible for her death. They
are going to find you culpable or her mentally unstable before they acknowledge
any wrong doing on their part. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> What do you mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> You mean you honestly don’t know what was
going on at work? At school? Rita sat down at the table and sighed. She was
dealing with a load of real crap at work. I know what a few people told me and
what I saw and heard. I also know how disgusted some of her faculty members were
with the way Lee was behaving. Lee was a total ruthless bitch to her. She is
ambitious as hell. Sucks up to all the right people and lies if she can to put
others in a bad light and make her look the golden girl. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> But why? What did Lorri do to her? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She didn’t have to do anything. Lee is smart,
tough and just wants to be a principal one day. She really doesn’t give a shit
about the students except to make it look as though she does. She likes to have
a few scalps hanging on her belt. Lorri wasn’t the only one. There was an
Indian guy before her. The guy that got a compassionate transfer before Lorri
came. Actually Lorri filled his position. There was also that young first year
out teacher. Rachel Seendore. The one that left and nearly had a nervous
breakdown because of the way she was treated. She did not like her from the
start. Rachel was too sensitive and soft spoken. Lovely girl, but Lee felt she
was ‘not teacher material’ and ‘would be better off being someone’s little
dishrag secretary.’ That is why she brutalized her and went for the jugular.
She gets pleasure from it. It is all about power. You really mean Lorri never talked about what
was going on. Lee was putting her down in front of the students and she had
Barry Salmon who we all know to be not the nicest of people at the best of
times had her on a program to improve her teaching. It was stuffing her head
up. Lee was probably trying to remove Lorri because she felt Lorri threatened
her in some way or other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian looked at Rita in
astonishment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">What are you talking
about? I know Lorri had been a bit down in the last few months. I’d come home
and find her red eyed and teary, but she wouldn’t say anything. She would just
say she was tired. Needed a holiday. I got her some vitamins and a tonic. I was
really worried about her. She did say at one stage there was pressure at work.
But there was the mortgage and she was paying that. We really needed her wage
as my business is only just starting to pick up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> He put his head in his hands. He did not trust himself any more. Rita
looked at him - a solid stare. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Do you know where this is leading?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> No. Tell me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> They will be coming to see you soon. They
are going to ask questions and they will ask you to make a statement. Be very
careful what you say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Maria said she felt awful after they left.
They got her to sign a statement about Lorri’s mental state and her work place
attitude and performance. It was only
after they had left, she realized the importance for the department of what
they were doing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Brian said nothing. He
felt that there was nothing he could say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> She realized that what she said could be
taken several ways and twisted to make Lorri out to be a real psycho. That is why you have to be careful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Suddenly Rita caught
sight of the clock. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">8.45. Damn. Told Hugh
I’d be back in half an hour. Ok. Do you want the kids to come with us or not?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Ok. It’ll be good for them. What do they
need?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Just some bathers and a hat. Flip flops. I
have sunscreen and towels. Gotta run and let Hugh know what’s happening. Can I
leave the kids here and we will be back in five or ten minutes with the cruiser
to pick them all up. Oh and have you got seats for them?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> Sure. I will take their seats out of our…my
car. Brian walked her to the door and then went quickly into the garage to unbuckle
the car seats. He had just taken them into the lounge room and collected their
backpacks when Hugh and Rita pulled up in the drive. The four children came in
from the back yard where they had been playing. Tommy and Tracey were overjoyed
about the trip. He was relieved to be able to sleep for a few hours and block
out the last week.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He took a pain killer
and a sleeping tablet. His head hit the pillow and he was asleep. His mobile
phone on the bedside table beeped with a message. It beeped a few more times in the next hour.
He slept through. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-15957067033117335432013-06-11T20:28:00.001-07:002013-06-11T20:28:27.022-07:00Prologue Lorri Witz's Demise (working title)<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
trees are still. Their leaves hanging limp in the heat. A kookaburra cackles - its mocking laughter
rings harshly across the cemetery headstones and slices through the heat that
bears down. There is the constant buzz of flies settling on people’s backs and
hats. The unrelenting late morning sun scorches the mourners scattered around
the freshly turned earth. A row of tall ghost gums that shelters the graves
offers little real relief from the heat. An earthworm moved sluggishly in the blood red
soil. Good clay composition, he decides.
She would have approved the soil consistency and told him to plant some
daffodils and freesias in it. Maybe he should bring some bulbs next week before
the soil settles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> An hour ago he wanted to be somewhere else,
but was bound to the narrow box of polished wood, held down by his children’s
tiny hands holding his trembling fingers. They were calm. He was numbed to the day and had been for
days. Tracey had asked him if Mammy was comfortable. Thomas had brought tears
to the eyes of many when he went to the casket and patted it, then bent forward
and gave the polished wooden side a wet kiss. He had put the rough red heart
they had cut out last night and he had traced the words that Brian had written
for him – I LUV U MAMMY MISS U! XXXX on
it – he put that on top of the casket. Both he and Tracey were calm, but a
little bewildered. At three and a half
years and four nearly five years of age, death is a difficult concept to grasp.
Even for adults. Someone is there and
then they are not. Their bodily shell
reposes and bears some semblance of who they were, the features are somewhat
familiar but the light in the eyes has stilled. The vitality that flowed
through their limbs is stilled. The electricity of living is gone. There are only the worms left to hollow out
the flesh and then the bacteria sets to work erasing the loved features, taking
it all down to the essential bones of business. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> They had decided to keep the cask closed.
She would not have wanted so many people gazing down at her blood drained
features. He also did not want his children to remember a wan corpse. His
mother was displeased too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Don’t you think they should stay with
Maria’s parents? Surely you are not bringing them to the funeral?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was their mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Well, far be it for me to speak, but she
should have remembered that before…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Mum.
PLEASE. NOT now!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Ok, ok. But you have to face facts. It was
selfish. Leaving two children and a man
who loved her….why?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Mum. I don’t WANT TO DISCUSS this now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Brian, you should not mourn such a weak
person overmuch. She was flawed. Dreadfully flawed and the children do not need
to go to her funeral.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was their mother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> So they are better off without her. Get
married again quickly and choose carefully. The children need a mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Oh, goody. I just go out onto the street and
shout, Hey, grieving widower needs wife now. Taking applications over here. Now
fill out this form in triplicate and if you are going to commit suicide at some
stage in the future, don’t bother applying. We’ve had that experience. Must be
good with young children. Have no transmittable diseases. A passable cook, but
willing to learn. Active and clean. An
excellent housekeeper and able to drive a car. Anything else I should add to
the criteria? Ability to tell jokes on
cue to distil awkwardness at the inlaws and last but not least, a fantastic
lover.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Well, it is not that bad, is it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> For God’s sake Mum, it is my wife’s funeral.
Today. Can’t we leave this a few weeks or months even?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> The mourners moved forward slowly following
the casket down to the opened grave. He was glad the children were with him.
They gave him more comfort through their trusting presence and calm acceptance
of Lorri’s passing into another life. Tracey’s acceptance was simply stated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Will Mummy see God every day now? When we
pray, will she hear too?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Yes, Honey, when you pray Mummy will take
your prayers straight to God. It will be like having a personal messenger to
make sure that God gets the message right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Now they were numb. The pain would come
later. Maybe even years later. When they
understood more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Rita
and Maria, Lorri’s best friends stand apart from the rest of the mourners.
Brian notices through the mind fog of a blinding headache how Lorri’s friends
grouped themselves into the specific areas of her life that he could only
wonder about. The indigenous writing
group she had started group together over to one side of the grave, the
teachers from the school – her colleagues opposite them, her grocery store
owner and some of his workers, the bank teller and others from the town where
they had spent the last three years. He
tried to find some other link that tied them to each other apart from just
knowing the deceased while she was alive. The elderly lady down the street she
used to invite over on the weekend for lunches because she knew she was a pensioner
on a low income and a single mother with six children stand at the back of the
those in the forefront, hesitantly as though they really do not deserve to be
there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Lorri’s parents had insisted on a celebrant.
They were not particularly religious. Despite he and Lorri agreeing that they
did not want religious ceremony, they had agreed that cremation was not a way
to go. Lorri wanted to be returned to the earth. Brian just thought fire was too much like the
Christian hellfire and brimstone. She thought there was something very
comforting about being returned ‘to the bowels of the earth and providing
nourishment.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘You know the first man was called
Adam? She pointed out to him once.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘And the first woman was called Eve.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Brian, you are missing my point. I just did
some research. You know Adam also means earth in Hebrew. Don’t you think that’s ironic?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘How so?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Well, if we come from the earth and we are
the agent of the earth’s destruction, isn’t that suicidal. Self destructive.
Kind of awful. We need to nurture ourselves more, don’t you think?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He remembered laughingly suggesting that they
sell the house and go to live in a tent down by the river. She became cross
with him. Then they argued and did not talk for two days. She was pregnant at
the time. He put it down to moodiness. Maybe he should have been more aware.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> The celebrant droned on about the brevity of
life and the pain of those left to cope. He stopped short of blaming anyone.
When the news had became public, some had shot questioning looks at him. Some
of the do-gooders in the community had already started talking about an
alternative home for the children and they were joined by Lorri’s parents. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Don’t you think it would be a good idea for
the children to live with us for a while? ‘ Lorri’s mum Annabel had been blunt
to the point last night before the funeral. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘No. I am still their parent. They are staying with me.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Oh Brian be reasonable. They are our flesh
and blood too. You could visit or stay
whenever you wanted. They are all we have left of her.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘I could say the same thing. They stay with
me.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘So how are you going to work? Are you going
to put them into childcare?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘No, Ella is coming stay with me. She is
writing a novel and doing some research. She will look after them.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘You sister from Sydney? But her lifestyle
is well …you know what I have heard and not from..your parents, but…’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘I know from dear Aunty George. The family’s
moral guardian. That Ella is a lesbian?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Well, is she?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘I don’t know. Never asked her. I am her
brother. Not her bloody social secretary.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Well, if she is Robert and I are going to
have to take charge.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Look Annabel. I don’t know and I don’t
care. She is my sister. Yes, she has some funny associations in Sydney, but she
is their aunt. Whether she is gay or not gay has nothing to do with my
relationship to her as a sister and as their aunt. The kids are living with me
and their aunt. You can visit anytime.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Brian, I have concerns. What if she brings
a girlfriend to the house?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Believe me she won’t. She knows better.
Besides what if I bring someone to the house? They have already started to line
up at the front door. Didn’t you know? Eligible widower with two small
children, huge mortgage and small business barely on the starting block. Most
of the young women in the town can hardly wait to get a go on. The divorcees
have already started leaving offerings of food and other comforts on my
doorstep.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> The crowd edges him forward and he is given a
shovel. What do they expect him to do? Shovel earth onto the gleaming casket
nestled so in the freshly dug six by four feet hole. He digs the shovel into
the fresh pile of red dirt and stones. Lifting it up and thumping it down the
hole, it thunders in a thudding roll of earth and stone on the wooden casket.
He wants to say to someone ‘good wood that’ but does not, then feels a bellow
of grief rise to his throat but suppresses it and spades another few loads of
the good earth onto the casket before his dad noticing his son’s distress moves
forward to take the shovel from his hands. His mother fills his mind and hands with the
children when she hands him Tommy and Tracey tugs his shirt sleeve and brings
him down to another space. He holds them
close. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Then there is a hush in the group. Barry
Salmon the school principal and Lee Hammer Lorri’s head teacher come through
the gates of the cemetery, rather late.
Brian wants to refuse to be greeted or comforted. He inclines
his head forward and down to hide tears beginning to slide down his
cheeks. Bending he picks Tracey up and she burrows her head into his neck and
shoulders curling her fingers into her mouth. His arms hold the two children
tightly. His jaws lock. He nods briefly at them. It is over. They walk together briskly over to the other family
members and the business is done. They
want to say to them, go away. Leave us in peace, but the mourners show their
mettle. If they truly love her they keep silent, those unsure chatter away
their awkwardness. Brian’s mother Moira
turns away from Barry Salmon’s outstretched hand and she takes a tissue from
her bag to cover the snub. Brian who was watching suppressed a smile. He knew
his mother too well. He wished Ella was here. She would not be here for two
days. Caught in Bangkok on holiday, she had been unable to get an earlier
flight back to Australia.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Lee Hammer was treated to the full treatment
of Moira’s withering scorn. Moira stood
and stared straight into her face. Eyes hard as stone, she let Lee know in no
uncertain terms how she felt. Lee either pretended she did not know or really
did not care. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Such a pity. She has two young children. Oh
sorry, had two young children. Do you think it could have been post natal
depression? ……Well she doesn’t feel any pain now. Perhaps that is a good thing.
These things happen..’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Moira
gave her a glacial smile. Then turned her head away while Lee was in mid
sentence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> ‘Joel, I am so tired. When are we going back
to the house?’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-19938280186362038302013-06-10T02:21:00.001-07:002013-06-10T02:21:40.954-07:00Restarting work on Bullying novel after losing 50,000 somewhere somehow in cyberspace.<br />
<a href="http://www.gofundme.com/36lp6c" id="share2_link_href" style="background-color: white; color: #72931f; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" target="_blank">http://www.gofundme.com/36lp6c</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
The trees are still. Their leaves
hanging limp in the heat. A kookaburra
cackles - its mocking laughter rings harshly across the cemetery headstones and
slices through the heat that bears down. There is the constant buzz of flies
settling on people’s backs and hats. The unrelenting late morning sun scorches
the mourners scattered around the freshly turned earth. A row of tall ghost
gums that shelters the graves offers little real relief from the heat. An earthworm moved sluggishly in the blood red
soil. Good clay composition, he decides.
She would have approved the soil consistency and told him to plant some
daffodils and freesias in it. Maybe he should bring some bulbs next week before
the soil settles. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
An hour ago he wanted to be somewhere else, but was bound to the narrow
box of polished wood, held down by his children’s tiny hands holding his
trembling fingers. They were calm. He
was numbed to the day and had been for days. Tracey had asked him if Mammy was
comfortable. Thomas had brought tears to the eyes of many when he went to the
casket and patted it, then bent forward and gave the polished wooden side a wet
kiss. He had put the rough red heart they had cut out last night and he had traced
the words that Brian had written for him – I LUV U MAMMY MISS U! XXXX on it – he put that on top of
the casket. Both he and Tracey were calm, but a little bewildered. At three and a half years and four nearly
five years of age, death is a difficult concept to grasp. Even for adults. Someone is there and then they are not. Their bodily shell reposes and bears some
semblance of who they were, the features are somewhat familiar but the light in
the eyes has stilled. The vitality that flowed through their limbs is stilled.
The electricity of living is gone. There
are only the worms left to hollow out the flesh and then the bacteria sets to
work erasing the loved features, taking it all down to the essential bones of
business. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
They had decided to keep the cask closed. She would not have wanted so
many people gazing down at her blood drained features. He also did not want his
children to remember a wan corpse. His mother was displeased too. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Don’t you think they should stay with Maria’s parents? Surely you are not
bringing them to the funeral?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
She was their mother.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Well, far be it for me to speak, but she should have remembered that
before…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Mum. PLEASE. NOT now!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Ok, ok. But you have to face facts. It was selfish. Leaving two children and a man who loved
her….why?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Mum. I don’t WANT TO DISCUSS this now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Brian, you should not mourn such a weak person overmuch. She was flawed.
Dreadfully flawed and the children do not need to go to her funeral.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
She was their mother. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
So they are better off without her. Get married again quickly and choose
carefully. The children need a mother.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Oh, goody. I just go out onto the street and shout, Hey, grieving
widower needs wife now. Taking applications over here. Now fill out this form
in triplicate and if you are going to commit suicide at some stage in the
future, don’t bother applying. We’ve had that experience. Must be good with
young children. Have no transmittable diseases. A passable cook, but willing to
learn. Active and clean. An excellent
housekeeper and able to drive a car. Anything else I should add to the criteria?
Ability to tell jokes on cue to distil
awkwardness at the inlaws and last but not least, a fantastic lover.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Well, it is not that bad, is it?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
For God’s sake Mum, it is my wife’s funeral. Today. Can’t we leave this
a few weeks or months even?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
The mourners moved forward slowly following the casket down to the
opened grave. He was glad the children were with him. They gave him more
comfort through their trusting presence and calm acceptance of Lorri’s passing
into another life. Tracey’s acceptance was simply stated.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Will Mummy see God every day now? When we pray, will she hear too?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Yes, Honey, when you pray Mummy will take your prayers straight to God.
It will be like having a personal messenger to make sure that God gets the
message right. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Now they were numb. The pain would come later. Maybe even years
later. When they understood more. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Rita and Maria, Lorri’s best
friends stand apart from the rest of the mourners. Brian notices through the
mind fog of a blinding headache how Lorri’s friends grouped themselves into the
specific areas of her life that he could only wonder about. The indigenous writing group she had started group
together over to one side of the grave, the teachers from the school – her
colleagues opposite them, her grocery store owner and some of his workers, the
bank teller and others from the town where they had spent the last three
years. He tried to find some other link
that tied them to each other apart from just knowing the deceased while she was
alive. The elderly lady down the street she used to invite over on the weekend
for lunches because she knew she was a pensioner on a low income and a single
mother with six children stand at the back of the those in the forefront,
hesitantly as though they really do not deserve to be there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Lorri’s parents had insisted on a celebrant. They were not particularly
religious. Despite he and Lorri agreeing that they did not want religious
ceremony, they had agreed that cremation was not a way to go. Lorri wanted to
be returned to the earth. Brian just
thought fire was too much like the Christian hellfire and brimstone. She
thought there was something very comforting about being returned ‘to the bowels
of the earth and providing nourishment.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘You know the first man was
called Adam? She pointed out to him
once.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘And the first woman was called Eve.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘Brian, you are missing my point. I just did some research. You know
Adam also means earth in Hebrew. Don’t
you think that’s ironic?’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘How so?’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘Well, if we come from the earth and we are the agent of the earth’s
destruction, isn’t that suicidal. Self destructive. Kind of awful. We need to
nurture ourselves more, don’t you think?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
He remembered laughingly suggesting that they sell the house and go to
live in a tent down by the river. She became cross with him. Then they argued
and did not talk for two days. She was pregnant at the time. He put it down to
moodiness. Maybe he should have been more aware.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
The celebrant droned on about the brevity of life and the pain of those
left to cope. He stopped short of blaming anyone. When the news had became
public, some had shot questioning looks at him. Some of the do-gooders in the
community had already started talking about an alternative home for the
children and they were joined by Lorri’s parents. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘Don’t you think it would be a good idea for the children to live with
us for a while? ‘ Lorri’s mum Annabel had been blunt to the point last night
before the funeral. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘No. I am still their parent.
They are staying with me.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘Oh Brian be reasonable. They are our flesh and blood too. You could visit or stay whenever you wanted.
They are all we have left of her.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘I could say the same thing. They stay with me.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘So how are you going to work? Are you going to put them into
childcare?’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘No, Ella is coming stay with me. She is writing a novel and doing some
research. She will look after them.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘You sister from Sydney? But her lifestyle is well …you know what I have
heard and not from..your parents, but…’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘I know from dear Aunty George. The family’s moral guardian. That Ella
is a lesbian?’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘Well, is she?’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘I don’t know. Never asked her. I am her brother. Not her bloody social
secretary.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘Well, if she is Robert and I are going to have to take charge.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘Look Annabel. I don’t know and I don’t care. She is my sister. Yes, she
has some funny associations in Sydney, but she is their aunt. Whether she is
gay or not gay has nothing to do with my relationship to her as a sister and as
their aunt. The kids are living with me and their aunt. You can visit anytime.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘Brian, I have concerns. What if she brings a girlfriend to the house?’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
‘Believe me she won’t. She knows better. Besides what if I bring someone
to the house? They have already started to line up at the front door. Didn’t
you know? Eligible widower with two small children, huge mortgage and small
business barely on the starting block. Most of the young women in the town can
hardly wait to get a go on. The divorcees have already started leaving
offerings of food and other comforts on my doorstep.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
The crowd edges him forward and he is given a shovel. What do they
expect him to do? Shovel earth onto the gleaming casket nestled so in the
freshly dug six by four feet hole. He digs the shovel into the fresh pile of
red dirt and stones. Lifting it up and thumping it down the hole, it thunders
in a thudding roll of earth and stone on the wooden casket. He wants to say to
someone ‘good wood that’ but does not, then feels a bellow of grief rise to his
throat but suppresses it and spades another few loads of the good earth onto
the casket before his dad noticing his son’s distress moves forward to take the
shovel from his hands. His mother fills
his mind and hands with the children when she hands him Tommy and Tracey tugs
his shirt sleeve and brings him down to another space. He holds them close. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
Then there is a hush in the group.
Barry Salmon the school principal and Lee Hammer Lorri’s head teacher come
through the gates of the cemetery, fashionably late. He wants to refuse to be greeted or comforted
by the man. It is brief. They walk together briskly over to the family
and business is done very officiously. They
want to say to them, go away. Leave us in peace, but the mourners show their
mettle. If they truly love her they keep silent, because she was about peace
and not confrontation. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-8582756069024864912013-06-05T06:52:00.002-07:002013-06-05T06:52:32.229-07:00Thank You G-D for Life...<div class="MsoNormal">
There was a shudder and bump. Then the car veered.
Everything happened in slow motion. One second previous, I checked my 17 month
old son in his capsule in the back of the sedan via the rear vision mirror. The
next second, I was fighting to control the car turning sideways, scattering
gravel across the road, off the bitumen, down into the channeled gully and
further, a scream rising in my head as the
wheel twisted in my hands, foot beginning to pummel the brakes clutch, no, don’t
brake, accelerate but too late, over on the side passenger side, God my son, my
son, then clattering onto the roof to stay upended with a shattering of
windscreen glass over the front of the car, the roar of the motor, the scream s
of my son, someone else screaming, smell of petrol, shudder and roar of the
engine, luckily having the presence of mind to turn off the motor, creaking,
scratching through the roof trying to kick the door open, crushed shut,
screaming God no, I promise please, no, no, do not let us burn alive amongst
the spinifex bushes and wire grass tussocks, 125 kilometers from Cunnamulla to
the north and 120 kilometers from Bourke to the south, tearing at the seat belt
twisting out of the bucket seat that has become an unusual shape, seeing my
son, comforting him, hold his hand, praying , gotta to get out of here, smell
of fuel leaking somewhere, crawling through the passenger side, kicking, kick,
kick, kick – a violent birth, blood running down hands and legs as flesh tears
at metal and plastic, frantic energy, get baby out, get baby out, before we
burn, finally out cannot get baby out through front bucket seats gap, to back
door, pushing, rocking to get misshapen door open, finally open, crawl in and
drag capsule unbuckle child, clasp him to chest and haul out from car and walk,
staggering run to the road and the shade by the sign that says 125 kilometers
Cunnamulla, shaking, soothe baby, do I want to go back to car to get bottle(?)
no wait it might catch fire, he has only me and he cannot flag down car, wait
and wait, talk to him, rock him and say ok its ok, we are all right, car gone,
we are all right and that’s all that matters. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The car sits 10 meters off the road, tires still spinning
and two front ones burst, rubber on one hangs at a crazy angle, baby has
quietened, I crazy with relief, heart still pounding, stroke his wispy head of
hair and say Thank you G-D, thank you for life, thank you for giving us more
time….thank you G-D, thank you.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5939068880851908205.post-17480133432196660562013-06-03T01:32:00.000-07:002013-06-03T01:32:08.751-07:00Get Over it – REALLY? Who are the APES?<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>B’H<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How many times have you heard this statement in reference to
racist remarks, the Jewish holocaust, rape victims or child abuse victims?
Probably hundreds of times plus. I’d like a $1 for every time I have heard it. Now we have Jane Looney telling us that the
South Eastern secondary school where her daughter goes has treated the whole
matter of her calling Adam Goodes an ape, as a joke. She has also said that
Adam Goodes needs to get over it, as
have numerous other people who call themselves Aussies.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jane may be a bit like her surname, Looney, because she has
obviously not taught her child manners or how to respect others. Manners take
you a long way in life and so does respect for others. Encouraging her daughter
along with her friends to treat derogatory name calling lightly, probably
indicates an ape like mentality. She
does not know or understand how wrong and exceedingly disrespectful to any
players, even more so to indigenous
players or players who just happen to have a bit more melanin in their skin
tone, it is to call them apes. It is disrespectful to the players who play on
their team as well. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The apes tend to be
up in the stands in most footy matches, I have gathered. Similar to the ‘apes
in the crowd’ who threw bananas at Small in the eighties. Apes tend to throw
things and then it is very hard for those with human intelligence to tell them
that it is the wrong way to behave. They are ape-like, similar to the Looneys
(lovely handle for an ape-like being and her ape-like family) who just do not
have the intellect to understand WHY that sort of behaviour is stupid, mindless
and disrespectful. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You see Adam Goodes has the sensitivity and social awareness
to understand just how insulting and crass this sort of behaviour and name calling is. But the Looneys and the
Looneys’ mates are suffering from a real surfeit of brain cells. If they do
have brain cells, something has hindered the development of them. They have
them but can’t understand how to use them. Eddie McGuire has been infected with the ape-like
virus and that is why he merrily hooted away about what a gas it is to be an
ape in a King Kong suit. He is better suited to the King Kong title. Goodes has
too much intelligence to play King Kong. He plays winning footie instead. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sad isn’t it? I hope Adam never gets over being called an
ape and retains the sensitivity to be offended when people act inappropriately.
Some people will never understand the finer points of social interaction
because they think on a very limited ape-like level and will never in a million
years understand how to behave appropriately. Maybe they should have monkey
bars over some of the seats at football matches and cages with fine mesh where
we can put some of these loony spectators and make sure there is a big bin of
bananas for them to munch on. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11971930574979600235noreply@blogger.com0