© Denis Fitzpatrick,
2015
Maria d’Israeli, when
she joined the underground, alternative scene in Sydney, Aus (such a wonderful
land that simply must have a parallel in another Universe in order to fully
share its glory), never guessed that it would result in her being involuntarily
locked up with only one phone call separating her from a possible
incarceration. When she did find herself in this predicament she almost entered
into a state of shock. How had things become so bad? She had grown up in a good
family, with loving parents and a noble, elder sister, so, again, how had
things become so bad? She had just made a bad choice, and now she wanted out of
its consequences. At least she wasn’t addicted to heroin, or acid, or speed,
any of those avenues of apparent expansion. Although, her pot use was starting
to get a bit out of control. Better do something about that.
‘Okay, missy, your turn for a call,’ said
the officer who arrested her, idly fingering her shirt. ‘Long distance?’
‘No,
a mobile.’
‘That’s fine. You’ve got five minutes from
now.’ The officer then led Maria to the phone, distancing herself somewhat so
that Maria could make her call in private. Maria called her father. The phone
picked up after five rings.
‘Hi,
this is Elijah. Just leave your name, your number, and a short message and I’ll
be sure to get back to you. Thanks. Goodbye.’ It was a recording from her
father asking her to leave a message. She had no choice.
‘Hi, Dad, this is Maria. I’m in trouble. I
stabbed someone and the police have me here in lockup. It’s all went wrong,
Dad, so wrong. I was trying to run away from being forced to help out in
dealing speed. That was just way too heavy. Dad, can you get me out of here? I
swear I’ll give up all the drugs, I’ll get a job, just make sure I don’t go to
gaol. Please help, Dad. I’m in Newtown police station.’ Maria then hung up the
phone, and hoped for the best when she was back again in the cell.
She remained awake all through the night,
eventually no longer perking up when the station phone rang. Her father wasn’t
going to call. And if he did it would probably be too late. Everything’s gone
wrong, so wrong.
Over a breakfast of a baked bean sandwich
the next morning at five am another officer asked her her father’s first name.
‘Elijah,’ she replied.
‘Okay, he’s on the phone for you now.’ The
officer then let her out, jumping to his right while Maria dashed to the phone.
‘Dad!’
‘Yes, sweetie, it’s Dad, everything’ll be
fine. Just tell me what happened.’ Maria then told him how her choice to leave
home and lead the obviously interesting drug cultured life meant that she got
sacked from her casual supermarket job. Then she almost had no money. Then she
gave up food to reserve her small monies for the drugs. Then she gave up the
rent. She realised, eventually, many late, late years later, that she had made
a devastating error of judgement in choosing the druggie life when one night
she returned to her squat after eating her sole meal for the day from a garbage
bin and being told she had to be a speed runner or get bashed. Repeatedly. The
offender was named Rufus, a real psychopath, whom Maria was assured carried
around a top quality punching bag from squat to squat. Punching that bag was
how he woke up and how he went to sleep. During the rest of the day he would
randomly get up and give it a good workout. His dialogue too was aggressive,
never framing any statement positively, always taking the negative, hostile
viewpoint. A real bastard.
Unfortunately, Maria found herself alone
with him one night, the other flatmates having left the squat permanently, only
leaving her a curt note. Maria never really did get on with them anyway, all in
their own snug clique. It didn’t take him long to stand over her, thinking here
was a ready slave for a small speed dealing enterprise he had just begun. Easy.
So Maria stabbed him. She was sure to
impale his thigh, twisting the blade. Then she ran. The bastard must have
called the police straight away. And she was easy to track down, having nowhere
to go but the main street of Newtown.
‘Sweetie, if you turn evidence on all
these drug dealers the police are bound to protect you. You scratch their back
and they’ll scratch yours. If you dob them in the police’ll take you under
their wing, not throw you way.’ That was sure tempting.
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’d
bet my kingdom on it, sweetie.’
‘I’m not so certain, Dad. I’ll have to
think about it.’
‘You don’t have that luxury, sweetie.
You’re about to be gaoled. But turning in these ‘friends’ could well save you.
And you have to decide now.’
She really had no sane choice. ‘Okay, I
agree. They’d probably do the same to me, the scum.’
Naturally, the police were delighted to
take Maria on board, the officer speaking to Elijah giving him his personal
guarantee that Maria would be duly guarded by the New South Wales Police Force for
her valuable revelations. Unfortunately though, Maria was barefoot, ill clothed
for the winter, and had nowhere to immediately go. Lockup was her only safe
option. Elijah though offered to immediately buy Maria clothes over the phone
from the nearest Salvo’s store, awaiting her arrival. The officer was then
happy to release her.
The clothes were indeed awaiting her in
the store, the police having driven her there, and telling her they’d contact
her father tomorrow to arrange all the details of her informant status.
*
Maria, put two drug
kingpins away, thanks to her information and a bit of undercover work, with
which she was happy to participate in. Her parents remained in the Northern
Territory, where they were motor-homeing after their retirement, after Elijah
had come down with a very bad case of the flu, and thus was a danger driving on
the road. Janette was eager to drive down to see her daughter but she and
Elijah both knew that she just couldn’t handle driving that massive beast of
metal. Janette was naturally opposed to guiding such large mass.
She finally returned to the family fold,
in NT, a week after her testimony. The police gave her a new identity and paid
for her first six months’ rent, in the form of six signed blank cheques, as a
reward for Maria’s eager and fervent assistance leading to a terrific result.
Her parents recognised her, of course, as did Blanche, the elder sister, and
they all spent their first reunion in a blissful whirlwind of conversation that
none of them could remember the next day.
At breakfast, patrolled by a healthy
looking black cat, Maria filled them in on the details of her life since she
had disappeared from them. She told of how she had grand plans, that she had
all of the answers to all of the world’s ills. She told of how she had become
gradually filled with an immense love for all sentience, clearly able to set it
upon its own glorious path. But the opposite was true. Through her search, by
using illicit drugs as a guide, she had met with only unremitting selfishness. She
still meets that unremitting selfishness. So Maria eventually learned to take
her own life back, to look after number one. As everyone does.
Also at breakfast the next morning Maria
informed her parents and sister that she could not live with them if they
continued their wandering life, preaching Elijah’s unique vision of Christ, and
its ancillaries. Maria told them that she had had quite enough of an unstable,
vagrant life and that she wanted something more permanent. Couldn’t they all
settle down, in a nice house or flat somewhere, working together and earning
their daily bread as a coherent team? Maybe buy a franchise?
Surprisingly, her parents were not
unamenable to her suggestion. The truth be told, they had had enough of the
grey nomad lifestyle and its incessant demands. What they both wanted, what
they both really, really wanted was to spend the rest of their days reading and
visiting art galleries, amongst other novelties. They eventually decided.
‘Okay, Maria,’ began Elijah one night over
dinner, ‘if we all buy a franchise and work together we all really should have
no real problems. We’ll have money, food, company, diversions, it really is a
brilliant proposition, sweetie. But, honey, we really do need a secure base, a
reasonably secure base, at our age, and we can’t afford the rents in Sydney,
where all the money is. It just can’t be done.’
Maria came up with the solution instantly.
‘We can use the motor home. We really can.
All’s we need is a laptop, a printer, and the internet.’ Her parents instantly
saw the point.
‘Those drugs must have taught you
something after all, Maria,’ said her father. ‘That’s a real genius thought.
The forest for the trees.’ Maria smiled.
For their last drive they drove to a
caravan park not too far outside of Uluru and parked there for the remainder of
their lives. They celebrated their new plans, new hopes, over a choice bottle
of bourbon and each surprisedly met the next day completely clear headed. They
knew what they were doing.
~~~
If you have been enjoying Fitzpatrick's stories here you may also enjoy his other books, available at Amazon.com as both Kindle books and paperbacks. Click this link to view them - http://amzn.to/1NfodtN Other ebook options are available through www.lulu.com; go to - http://bit.ly/1UsyvKD
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