Monday, March 21, 2016

LAST DAZE.... (part 3)

It doesn't hurt me.
Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn't hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I'm making?
You, it's you and me.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh...

The summer break of 1994/95 was a hard time for me.  Matty had recovered and was now at home on 'sickness benefits'.  Christine was working day shifts Monday to Friday and I was between teaching jobs.  Thankfully Taxi's Combined were happy to employ me full time during the break and I returned to 5 nights a week.

It wasn't just because of Matty.  It wasn't just because Christine was one of the executives, it was also because I was one of their top employees.  I was, by this time, an 'A' grade operator which signified that I could perform all the skill sets in the radio room.  I was the fastest telephonist, I was really good at operating the disabled taxi service and dealing with the difficult needs of their customers, I was a competent supervisor, and above all I was on really good terms with both the employees and employers.

I had just completed a successful two terms at Camperdown, with the promise of being employed the following term so I should have been on top of the world.  I wasn't.  I was watching one man I loved slowly waste away and desperately missing another young man who I couldn't be with anyway.

I filled my mornings getting stoned, walking my dog, and returning home to clean the house and organize lunch for Matty before I left for work.  Some days were better than others with Matty.  He would be cheerful and physically competent and with Christine at work he would occasionally share a cone or two with me before going back to bed to sleep his stone off.  On other days he would be miserable and in pain, unable to feed himself, which I had to do for him, and often too nauseous to want to eat.  However it was important that he did and during these times it would often take up to 2 hours for me to gently but determinedly ensure that he finished his food.  Going to work after that was a joy - I would be mentally exhausted but knew that I had friends there who I could talk to, share a joint with, or just sit with while I cried myself out of my depression.

The two evenings a week we were all home together were the worst.  Either Christine and Matty would spend the whole time in their bedroom, even eating dinner there, or they would sit together like two young lovers who had everything to live for.  I couldn't blame them.  We all knew that Matty had limited time and any chance of him being happy and contented was something I couldn't deny him. 

I just found it hard to deal with.  Matty played us both off - he was a master in that.  When Christine became too controlling he would turn to me just to spite her, often feigning sickness and saying things like 'only Richard knows how to look after me properly'. After one of these evenings, Christine came to me while Matty was sleeping and said she would prefer it if I wasn't at home on my nights off!  I was angry and hurt, but I wasn't surprised.  It took a lot of strength to keep smiling and promise her that I would give them space when I could.

I started spending my nights off either with John and Trudi, occasionally with Kylie, but as she lived so far away it wasn't often. Or I would simply spend my nights out in Newtown, at the gay hotel, in the park, getting stoned and picking up boys and either going home with them or doing it in the cemetery.  If Christine and Matty were still awake when I got home I would go straight to my room and continue bonging.

The person this hurt the most was Matty.  He couldn't understand why I was avoiding him and I couldn't tell him.  If I had I know he would have got angry and possibly aggressive with Christine. 

Summer holidays over and I was offered another year at Camperdown. For various reasons (me being a teacher there was one of them) many new enrolments from the surrounding suburbs of Glebe and Forest Lodge (both schools where I had previously taught) arrived.  In six months Camperdown had gone from a school facing closure through lack of numbers to a school where we had enough pupils to form 3 permanent classes - though not enough to qualify for a full time permanent teacher. 

Initially I was given a Year 2/3/4 class of about 22 students.  Teaching across grades is difficult as you have to run separate programs for each grade at the same time but it was something I was able to do successfully. On top of the programming difficulties I also had to cope with the emotional and behavioural differences of the class.  When I was asked by Carol (the Year 5/6 teacher) if I would take 4 Year 5 boys from her as they were not 'mature enough' to cope in her class my task became even more difficult.  I handled the challenge with ease and the extra workload was helpful in keeping my mind off my home worries.

Talking about this class will be another chapter in itself.  It was to become a dramatic and life changing year for me. This became evident when I took the 4 Year 5 boys into my class.  One of them was Nuno's brother Jack.

After a few weeks I noticed that he was avoiding my Aboriginal boy David (the one who had tried to get me to chase him on my first day).  He would go to great lengths to sit as far away from him as possible and during break times he would hang inside the classroom until I left, always walking outside with me.  If I was on playground duty he would spend his time walking at my side.  If I wasn't then he would follow me to the teacher's room and be waiting outside for me to come out. At the end of the day he would wait for me to finish and walk home with me.  I couldn't get anything out of Jack.  He wouldn't tell me what the problem was only saying that he didn't have any friends to play with.

Having been a victim of school yard bullying myself it wasn't long before I realised that something was going on between the two boys.  David was smart enough not to touch Jack, but I could see the silent looks of intimidation that he was sending Jack.  Although David and I were good friends he firmly denied that anything was going on when I quietly asked him about it.  After a few weeks I asked the school secretary to contact Jacks parents and have them come and speak with me.

Due to Jack's father working shift work and his mother nursing another baby it was nearly two weeks before we could arrange a meeting.  Carol took my class with hers and played a movie in the school hall so I had both time and privacy with Jack's parents.

To cut a long story short, it turned out the issue had nothing to do with Jack and everything to do with Nuno.  On hearing them mention Nuno my hear skipped a beat.  I had smoked dope with their son and come very close to sleeping with him.  My career would have been stopped short had they known.

I had known that Nuno was dealing drugs to his friends.  What I didn't know was that he had been getting his drugs from David's mother! This incestuous community would have big impacts on my life over the next few years.  I knew David's mother was a dealer so that didn't shock me.  When they told me that Nuno owed David's mother $250 and she had sent heavies to beat Nuno up all the pieces fitted together. 

That was why Nuno had disappeared overnight, he had been sent to live with his uncle in the outer suburbs, and that was why Jack and David were at odds with each other. What I didn't know was that the harassment had gone way beyond reason and David's mother was now sending her heavies around to Jack's house threatening the family.  There was no way they could pay the money back and being immigrants they were terrified of calling the police as they believed that the family could be split up or possibly sent back to Portugal as only the younger children had Australian citizenship.  The parents and the older children still had a year before citizenship would be granted.

I assured them that the issue of Nuno dealing drugs was only minor and that there was no possibility of him being deported but they still didn't want the police involved.  I told them to leave it with me and I would ask a friend of mine who was a Justice of the Peace what could be done.  I promised them that no names would be mentioned and I would do all I could to help them sort out the issue.  To say that they were happy was an understatement.  They cried, they hugged me and more importantly they believed me.  I actually didn't know what I could do for them at the time but by the end of the day I did.

I rang one of the 'normal' parents who I knew often looked out for David and asked them if they could have him stay with them for the evening as I had to speak with David's mother.  They picked him up with their two boys at the end of the day and told me to 'be careful'.  It was a small community and they knew his mother better than I did - what they didn't know was that I had dealt with drug dealers for many years so my only fear was that she wouldn't let me in the house.

I went home, rolled a few joints, got a taxi to Glebe, stopped at the bank and withdrew $250 and then went round to David's house. I knocked and knocked and knocked for about 5 minutes but received no response.  As I was about to give up one of the neighbours, whose child I had taught at Glebe, came out.  On seeing me she asked what I was doing there and when I told her that I was worried about David and wanted to speak with his mum she told me to wait while she went round the back and got David's mum. 

David's mum was more scared of me than I was of her.  Initially she believed 'the little bastard' had done something bad and that was why I was there.  When I said that it was about Nuno she went pale.  In welfare communities it seemed that a class teacher was almost as powerful as the police.  She was even more shocked when I asked to sit down and pulled a joint out of my cigarette packet and lit it.  We shared a joint and a cup of tea (in dirty cups!) and I explained that the situation couldn't go on.  I said I understood that she was angry over the money and probably owed it to her dealer so she had every reason to be upset.

When she explained that it was her boyfriend who Nuno owed the money to I asked her to get him to come over.  In the 30 minutes or so before he arrived we had smoked another joint and had another cup of tea and were the best of friends.  I told her about my past (not all of it, just the drug taking part) and she said 'no wonder all the kids love you, you ain't like a normal teacher'.

Her boyfriend (at least 10 years younger than her) arrived and she introduced me as 'David's cool teacher'!  He was terrified when she explained why I had come.  He thought I was going to call the police.  I said I could but that wouldn't help anyone.  'You could go to prison for dealing drugs to a minor, David's mum could be charged with being a dealer and an accessory, David could end up in foster care, and Nuno's parents would still be terrified that you would get them.'

The solution was easy, if expensive for me.  I would hand over the $250 on the condition that the matter was finished.  David would be told to go easy on Jack, Jack's family were not to be bothered again and most importantly they were never to let Nuno deal drugs for them again.  I promised to leave the matter there but with a warning that if any of the conditions were not met I would not hesitate in going to the police.  We sealed the deal with a line of cocaine (besides enjoying the occasional line I wanted them to believe that I was not concerned with their drug selling business and, you never say no to a dealer!). I must say it was probably one of the most enjoyable parent/teacher nights I would ever have.

Mission accomplished.  The only real issue was when I left that half the neighbourhood, children I had taught and their parents, were waiting outside to chat with me.  I was not only the flavour of the neighbourhood but possibly the only respectable person that had ever been inside David's house. I'm sure half the parents knew I was off my face, but then again half of them probably were too.  I managed to escape, eventually, despite the numerous offers of dinner and walked home.

I was buzzing.  High on both drugs and my accomplishments.  I could organize other people's issues but my own life was an emotional wreck.....









  

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