JOURNAL OF A COFFIN DODGER, CHAPTER A(1).

CHAPTER A (1)

'So what's with the Pommy new chum, over in Ward 2? Mates at the pub reckon he's bent. You heard anything?'

Adrian’s question drifted on the chilly air of the Staff Room on this 1970s week-end.

He leant back against a table in the centre of that room where Chris Carter, standing beside Adrian, puffed on a gasper.

Chris blew smoke at the grimy cobwebs hanging from the room's crumbling ceiling cornices.

''Bent' as in ...?' he replied.

Across from the men, their backs turned towards me, I stood by a cupboard as Chris ashed his cigarette.

''Bent' as in finding pleasure in the arms of limp-wristed young men rather than enjoying the charms of pretty young girls,' Adrian responded.

I stooped down and opened the waist-high cupboard's ill-fitting, green doors at the start of a morning tea break as Chris grunted.

'Yep! I'm with ya.'

Chris wore the blue tie, grey trousers, and black lace-up shoes of a charge nurse.

However, instead of the usual grey shirt, he wore a white one, showing that he worked in the Asylum Administration office.

A position which meant I would often see him in the main office of anyone of the fifty or so buildings scattered across the two-hundred acres of that Sydney asylum.

And on this June weekend morning, his eyes had scrutinised my body as I entered the Staff Room and walked past him and Adrian.

That lecherous leering at a women's physicality was not uncommon amongst the male staff of the asylum. I had encountered it many times while working at that place. Like the way Adrian perved at me when I walked into his office at the start of the shift.

If a bloke wouldn't talk to a woman or girl's face, instead of ogling their physicality, I wanted nothing to do with them.

Therefore, I decided not to join Adrian and Chris's conversation.

A smoke ring from Chris's cigarette dissolved in the dusty air while I reached into the cupboard's shadowy depths and picked up a yellow mug.

Holding the mug in one hand, I closed the cupboard doors with the other.

I stood up, and I scanned the faded vinyl bench that ran across the top of the cupboard.

'Your mates are on the money,' Chris snarled, turning towards Adrian, 'and here's why.'

I spotted a rusty lidless coffee tin leaning against a peeling blue wall on the other side of the bench from where I stood.

I placed the mug beside the coffee tin and picked up a stained spoon lying on the bench.

'My cousin, Steve,' Chris continued, 'a copper with the Vice Squad, has seen young Charlie hanging round the Cross with other men known to the police; men whose vices poison the very essence of manhood.'

After spooning coffee into the mug, I took the spoon and the mug to a white hot water urn.

The urn was fixed to the blue wall a couple of feet above pitted black cigarette burns that marked the edge of the bench.

Adrian turned to one side and gave a hacking cough.

When the coughing subsided, he exclaimed.

'What? The police haven't picked him up yet?'

'According to cousin Steve,' Chris replied, 'the police haven't caught Charles performing the lewd, unnatural vices those types of men indulge in.'

'Bloody hell!' Adrian muttered. 'That's a fucking shame.'

Chris sniggered. 

'But other plans are in place.’ 

Adrian replied, ‘Yer?’ while I held the yellow mug under the tap at the base of the urn. 

I pulled the lever on top of the tap as Chris nodded and stubbed out his smoke on the table.

He dropped the cigarette butt into a rusty jam tin standing on the table as a cascade of hot water filled the mug. A steaming waterfall that reminded me of soap, a washer, and the cleansing power of a hot shower.

I released the lever, and the aroma of coffee wafted around my face when Chris replied.

'On the Q.T. right?

Adrian nodded.

Chris paused before saying sotto voce, 'Now, the rumour is that our Pommy friend fled New Zealand before a coroner started asking questions.'

'Holy! Shit!' Adrian exclaimed.

I stirred the coffee and, after placing the spoon on the bench, took the mug to a tall stainless-steel fridge standing beside the far end of the bench.

'Apparently,' Chris continued, 'Charley boy, as charge nurse of a male ward in an asylum over there, lost it.'

I placed the mug on the bench near the refrigerator and opened the fridge door. Moving aside cans of beer, I took out an open carton of milk.

Chris continued, 'We all know inmates who pester us with their nagging about going to top themselves, right?'

I poured milk into my coffee and returned the carton to the fridge as Adrian replied, 'Sure do.'

Though I had decided not to join the two men, Chris's mention of 'on the Q.T.' intrigued me.

So keeping schtum, I closed the fridge door and picked up my mug.

My mind focused on the conversation as I walked to a back corner of the room, keeping the table between me and the men, while Chris continued.

'Well, the rumour is Charles got fed up with one inmate's nagging along those lines. He screamed at the bloke to 'fucking go and do it, will ya, for Christ's sake! Or just shut the fuck up!'

'And the bloke did it?'

Chris nodded.

I cradled the mug in my hands while I leant against the back wall and stared wide-eyed at the backs of the men, as Adrian said.

'And Charles didn't cover it up?'

'Not a chance,' Chris replied, 'Too many witnesses to Charley's little tanty.'

'What a fucking fool.'

Adrian shook his head before continuing.

'So what? Charley then buggers off across the ditch before a coroner pokes his nose into asylum business?'

'And winds up here, in Sydney, Australia a month or two back?' Chris finished Adrian's query.

I gazed at the cobwebs laced across the window at the far end of the room as Chris growled.

'Yep, 'fraid so. A fuckin' low life pervert has joined our ranks.'

I sipped my coffee and stared through the window at a bleak grey winter's day while Adrian asked.

'Any basis to the rumour?'

'Our mate Kerry is making a few phone calls. He worked in New Zealand a couple of years back. So he knows who to contact to check it out,' Chris replied.

'And if the rumour checks out, we'll have young Charles by the short and curlies if he doesn't behave himself with young men,' Chris concluded.

Adrian whistled.

‘Wow!’

'So if the cops don’t pick him up, New Zealanders might want to know where young Charley's fetched up, eh?'

Chris nodded.

There was silence between them while I watched a brown cockroach move out from behind the fridge. It scurried along the blue wall and disappeared behind the bench.

Adrian lowered his voice while I shifted my gaze and stared at an insect wriggling in a web in a dusty corner of the window.

'Speaking of friends of Dorothy,' he said, 'you know we have a fairy rostered to this ward, right? Working the day shift to-day.'

Chris had an edge of menace in his voice as he replied.

'Yep! Young Wayne. I saw his name underlined on the ward rosters before I left the Admin. Office this morning.'

I watched a brown spider move across the web towards the squirming insect as Chris concluded.

'But you have plans...?'

The insect ceased moving when the spider stopped beside it.

'Too bloody right!' Adrian replied. 'And to-day’s the day. Myself and the others, Ken, and Clive will be in the Recreation Room.'

'If the little surprise I have planned for young Wayne as he keeps an eye on the psychos in the Day Room goes as planned, we won’t be…'

The sudden cessation of the dialogue caught my attention. I stopped watching the drama in the spiderweb.

A bloke carrying a carton of beer under his arm and wearing the standard grey clobber and blue tie of a Male Charge Nurse strode into the room.

'Sorry to be late, gents,' he said as he plonked the carton on the table near another carton of grog.

'No sweat,' Chris responded. 'Relax; the main match hasn't begun.'

Adrian asked, 'You've been busy, Ray?'

'Well, that explains the late delivery of the necessities of life,' Ray replied.

'No matter how late, always appreciated,' Chris said.

'You see, had a rush job this morning,' Ray continued.

'I had the grey glad rags on, ready for work and the footy. I opened the front door, ready to head for the car. But wouldn’t ya know it? The phone rang.

The wife took the call.'

'She yelled that a real estate bloke was on the phone. Real estate jobs mean prompt payment, so I spoke to the bloke.'

I drained my mug of coffee as Ray slid his carton across the table towards the fridge.

'The bloke, Sid, from Skidmore's, just up the road from here, said it being the weekend with the footy and all, he was finding it difficult to find a plumber. So was I interested in...?

Chris butted in, 'What a stupid comment.'

Ray chuckled.

'Too flamin' right! I didn't care what the bloody job was. The clown laid himself wide open. My internal cash register rang and rang and rang while I said, 'Yep! What's the job, and where is it?'

Ray pulled a cigarette pack out of his shirt pocket and offered it around.

After Chris and Adrian had taken a smoke, and the smokes were lit, Ray continued.

'So I pulled a boiler suit over the uniform and went to a tenant's flat where a bathroom pipe had burst.'

'A gorgeous honey let me in and showed me where the bathroom was. If it hadn't been for the footy, I might have delayed my departure after finishing the job.'

Adrian gave Chris a cynical look.

'With the job finished, I went to the pub. I removed my boiler suit in the toilets, collected the necessities from the bottle shop, and drove here in the work truck.'

'So, now I'm looking forward to the game. Should be a good one.'

'Great idea to watch the telecast in the Recreation Room. No interruptions from the wife and kids while getting on with the serious business of sinking a few ales while watching the match.'

'It's the best way to spend a weekend shift,' Chris responded while Ray put his cigarette on the edge of the table and went to the fridge.

He opened the door, and while unpacking his carton of grog, asked,

'Who’s the broad?'

He jerked his head in my direction.

He finished unpacking, closed the fridge door, and picked up his cigarette.

'The broad?'

Adrian replied without turning around.

'Oh! That's right. I saw her come in. I thought she had left. She's still here?'

'She's over by the back wall,' Ray said as he walked towards Chris and Adrian.

'A broad who knows her place. That's a bonus.' Adrian chuckled.

'And when to keep her mouth shut,' Chris added with a sinister emphasis.

'But no dramas,' he continued. 'It's her word against ours. It's a well-known fact that women make things up when talking about men.'

'Too right,' Ray said as he joined Chris and Adrian.

'The bullshit my wife goes on about ... And there was that rape case in the paper the other day...'

'Anyway,' Adrian butted in. 'Back to the broad. She's a ring-in registered nurse on an over-time.'

'Working with the young gay bloke in the Day Room to keep the natives quiet while we enjoy the game uninterrupted.'

Ray ashed his smoke and asked.

'I don't think I've met that young bloke. Is he new?'

'Trainee nurse, been here, what, eight or nine months?'

Adrian replied as he looked at Chris, who nodded.

Ray extinguished his smoke on the lid, dropped the butt into the jam tin and said,

'Right, then! I'm off to the Rec. Room. Any of the other blokes arrived?'

Adrian replied, 'A couple of others, including Mike and Allan.'

'No sign of Bill?'

'Weekend detention at Long Bay,' Chris replied.

'I thought detention had finished?' Ray asked.

'Another stint,' Chris said. 'Friday night pub brawl. Up before the magistrate on Monday morning.'

Ray said, 'Well! Why am I not surprised? Anyway, I'll see you in the Rec. Room.'

Ray strode out of the room while Adrian finished his smoke.

Chris stubbed out his smoke on the table.

He dropped the butt into the tin as the sound of Ray's footsteps disappeared down the corridor towards Ward 29's Staff Recreation Room.

Raindrops sploshed onto the window as Chris, in a quiet voice, said, 'I caught your drift about Ray's "busyness."

'A necessary dig. Complaints are filtering through to the Admin. Office about Ray's frequent late showing up for work.'

Adrian dropped his durry onto the floor and crushed it under his shoe.

'Yer, the blokes are getting cranky about it.'

'Several times on their way to work, they've clocked Ray's green Chrysler outside one of the brothels up the road when Ray's rostered on for a morning shift.'

'Now, I've got nothing against visiting a brothel,' Adrian continued.

'But to do it as often as Ray does on his way to work means he's letting blokes down. He's unavailable during the morning routines.'

'It's like they're working with one hand tied behind their backs, and it's pissing them off.'

'Agreed,' Chris replied. 'Complaints are also trickling in from junior staff.'

He added, 'The do-gooders haven't interfered. I want to keep it that way. You reckon you could give us a hand with that?

'For fucking sure.' Adrian spat the words out.'Do-gooders are the worst type of arse-hole.'

'Right! Thanks! Let's chat after the game,' Chris replied.

He moved towards the fridge while asking, 'Care for a cold one?'

'Sounds good,' Adrian said.

Chris reached the fridge, opened it and took out a couple of cans.

With his back towards me, he closed the fridge and, with a can of beer in each hand, walked towards Adrian.

After handing a can to Adrian,the two of them left the room.

I stood frozen in the corner and clenched the yellow mug so tight that my knuckles were white.

I hurled the yellow mug into a metal garbage bin near where I stood. The sound of the shattering cup re-focused my mind.

I took several slow, deep breaths, and whispered, 'Get a grip on yourself, young lady.'

'Fuck them and fuck this for a joke!'

'I'll fix that bastard Adrian's little red wagon. I'll boot that slimy cart to kingdom come by the time I'm through.'

His attitude towards Wayne and me was par for the course at the asylum. As was a male staff member working a second job when they were meant to be working at the asylum.

Just the usual corrupt, fucked-up behaviours of men that I and my women's group protested about on our women's liberation rallies.

But leaving me and Wayne to look after the male inmates while Adrian, Chris, and their mates skived off to watch a footy match in the Rec. Room was something else.

It pissed me off no end.

If I were to spike whatever the intended act of bastardry was that Adrian plotted to unleash on Wayne, I had to settle my state of confusion. I needed to clear my head.

'Time to find a place to sit and get writing,' I muttered.

However, I avoided the dilapidated grey vinyl chairs scattered around the table.

A glossy red cedar table sullied by the girly magazines strewn across its surface.

I grimaced at the salacious fantasies those publications aimed to conjure up. Degrading, dangerous delusions, which, along with the acrid pong from the jam tin, I wanted to keep at a distance.

While walking out of the room, I glanced at the newspapers also scattered across the table.

Newspapers with headlines full of human rights topics like anti-war sit-ins and freedom marches.

I walked along a pale green, grimy corridor to the charge nurse Adrian's office.

An office reeking of stale cigarette smoke, whiffs of testosterone and sweat.

I entered the office and scanned the room.

I looked across a brown, scungy wooden desk towards Adrian’s lop-sided, squeaky chair.

A black vinyl office chair pushed back against a peeling white window ledge, a short distance from the desk.

A ledge furrowed with pungent black cigarette burns.

On the floor, to one side of the desk stood a lidless, battered metal garbage bin.

On the other side of the desk, propped up against a peeling green wall, stood two grey, rusty metal filing cabinets with their drawers sagging open.

A stench of sour milk and mouldy bread wafted from the bin. A bin that overflowed with crushed beer cans, cigarette butts, newspapers, pie crusts, and rotting fruit.

I curled my lip at the foul smell as slumped onto a straight-backed orange vinyl chair at one side of the desk a distance away from the bin.

Taking out a notebook and pen from my uniform pocket, I placed my notebook on the desk and began writing.

As I wrote, it became clear that there was something odd about the way tasks were performed following the allocation of duties.

One task given to me by Adrian when I came on duty at 6.30 am for the morning shift was to help the Registered Nurse, Ken with the morning medication round. That occurred a few hours before I overheard the conversation between Chris and Adrian.

Another was to work with Wayne in the locked Day Room.

My thoughts focused on an incident that occurred during the first of those tasks.

As Ken handed an inmate his pills from a pillbox, I checked the inmate's name off on a list as Ken called out the bloke's names.

However, at the end of the round, one inmate’s name had not been crossed off the list.

I double-checked the list, then told Ken, 'Garth hasn't picked up his pills.'

'Oh! Sorry!' Ken replied. 'I gave him his pills before the others as soon as breakfast was finished because he was getting toey. Sign him off the list as I forgot to do it. Sorry. Again!'

I sat back from the grotty brown desk when I stopped writing.

I turned towards the office window and watched a black spider in a corner of the window bind an insect in a web.

As I stopped watching the spider and resumed looking at my notebook, my thinking about that discussion with Ken cleared.

As I ran through what I had written, I realised that what Ken had said was dodgy.

Puzzled, I thought, 'Why did Ken lie?'

'It's time for a cuppa while I chew this one over,' I muttered as I stopped writing and put my notebook and pen back into my uniform pocket.

I stood up and walked out of the office.

However, I had only taken a few steps out of the office when a terrifying thought slammed into my mind. 

A thought that had me racing to the locked Day Room.

When I reached the Day Room, I unlocked the door, flung it open and stared at my terrifying thought entering the realm of reality.

Wayne stood in the centre of the room with his back towards me.

Garth, with clenched fists, paced closer and closer to Wayne.

I stood in the doorway and yelled, 'Wayne! Run!'

Garth's eyes blazed with a psychotic fury as Wayne spun around.

I stepped back from the doorway as Wayne sped towards the open door.

Garth screamed in rage as he picked up a chair.

He hurled the chair as Wayne raced out of the room.

I slammed the door shut as the chair crashed into it.

I felt the door vibrate as I locked it.

My heart was fit to burst as its beats raced like the demented hands of a clock.

My arms shook, and my breath came in short, rapid gasps as I leant against the wall on one side of the doorway.

Wayne slumped down onto the floor on the other side of the doorway and buried his head in his hands.

Garth yelled through the locked door, 'Get back here, you fucking cowardly poofter!'

He punched the door's small upper window.

I whispered to Wayne, 'Thank heavens that glass is reinforced with chicken wire.'

Wayne lifted his head and nodded.

'Are you okay to walk?' I asked.

'My legs are wobbling like jelly, but if I walk close to a wall, I'll be right,' he replied.

He stood up as Garth glared through the glass and yelled, 'I hears you, you fucking fairy.'

'Come on then,' I said, 'let's go to Adrian's office. The Staff Room will be busy with blokes getting grog from the fridge.'

We made slow, steady progress toward the office.

After we entered it, Wayne slumped down on the orange vinyl chair at the side of the desk.

I dragged a lime-green vinyl chair across the threadbare beige carpet, away from a light blue painted wall, and placed the chair at the front of the desk.

I sat on it and caught my breath.

After a couple of minutes, I said, 'Like a cuppa?'

Wayne nodded.

'Milk and sugar?

'Yes, please. Milk and two.'

I stood and went to the Staff Room.

Undisturbed by male nurses entering the room, I made cups of tea for Wayne and me, then returned to the office.

We sat on our chairs and sipped our tea until Wayne asked, "How did you know what was happening in the Day Room?"'

I said, 'I finally worked out that Adrian, Ken, and that other Registered Nurse, Clive had wound Garth up. They twigged you are gay...'

'Well! I make no secret of that,' Wayne cut in. 'Sorry for interrupting.'

'And it's great that you are open about it,' I replied.

'Anyway. You were saying?' Wayne said.

'Going by what Garth said as you raced out of the room, those nurses whispered in Garth's ear...'

'That I am a shit-packer, a fairy, an arse bandit, etc.,' Wayne said. 'The choice things and several more, Garth yelled at me before you opened the door and got me out.'

Wayne took a deep breath.

'I am so glad you did.'

'I have never been so scared since bullies beat me up at school.'

We both jumped as the black Bakelite phone on the desk rang.

As it rang out, I drained my cup of tea and placed the cup on the desk, as Wayne said.

'What you say makes sense.'

'As I stood in the Airing Court after breakfast, I noticed Garth seated on a bench.'

'Adrian sat on one side of him. Clive was on the other.'

'I noticed they took turns leaning in towards Garth. I guess that's when they whispered things to him.'

The phone rang again.

And again, we let it ring out.

'But what prompted you to visit the Day Room?'

I watched a cockroach crawl into the metal garbage bin as I took a deep breath and sat on my hands to stop them from shaking.

With a catch in my voice, I said, 'Ken omitted to give Garth his morning medication. I suspect Ken did that on Adrian's orders.'

'Oh! I feel sick! I feel so bloody sick!'

Tears welled in Wayne's eyes.

He whispered.

'That is so evil.'

'What? They deliberately used a patient to do a bit of poofter bashing?'

‘I’d say so,’ I replied.

'Oh! My God! Oh! My God! Poor Garth! Poor bloody Garth!'

Silence filled the room while Wayne finished his tea and then toyed with the empty cup.

He broke the silence by saying,

'You figured it out ...?'

'Well, I only put the pieces together in the last ten minutes or so. You see, I was on medication duty with Ken after breakfast.'

'Now, according to the asylum grapevine, Garth gets angry so quickly that there is talk of him having a lobotomy.'

Wayne grimaced and said, 'I have heard of that procedure.’

'Anyway, according to that grapevine, Garth is so volatile that all it takes is for him to miss one dose of medication ... Well, you've seen the results.'

'Now, when Garth missed taking his pills this morning, I asked Ken about it. Ken replied he had given them to Garth earlier because Garth had been 'toey.' That didn't jell.'

'How come?'

'You were in the Airing Court during breakfast, while Ken remained in the clinic.'

'Adrian, Clive, and I were in the Dining Room.'

'The patients finished their breakfast and left the room to line up outside the clinic for their pills. Except for three men. Garth was one of those men.'

'And a member of the Domestic Staff walked into the Dining Room, flicked them with a tea towel and snarled. "Get out! Get out!" Wayne responded.

I nodded and said, 'Adrian helped the woman by yelling, "Garth! Outside! The lady needs to clean the room."

'Unprotesting and without anger, Garth left the Dining Room and his unfinished breakfast.'

Wayne shook his head.

'I've only worked a few shifts here, so I'm new to the place. No one in the training school mentioned flicking patients with a tea towel. When I've seen it, what do I...'

Wayne shrugged his shoulders.

'So, you knew...' Wayne continued.

'That what Ken said was bullshit,' I replied.

Silence fell as Wayne set his cup down on the desk.

He leaned back in his chair.

'The men in the Day Room will be just as scared as I was,' he whispered.

He looked at me and said, 'So what’s next?'

'You leave. I'll talk to Adrian, ' I replied.

'What go?'

I nodded as Wayne stared at the window and took a deep breath.

'Adrian will make another attempt, won't he?'

'I'd guarantee it.'

'This abhorrent behaviour is not new for him, is it?'

I nodded and replied.

'That’s right. Though this is my first shift here, according to the asylum grapevine, Adrian and his male mates have a reputation for using Garth in this way.'

Wayne reached across the desk for a box of tissues.

He took one and blew his nose as I watched a mouse scurry out of the scabby garbage bin and down onto the floor before disappearing out through the doorway.

'I've had friends beaten up at so-called gay beats ... but this...' Wayne shook his head.

He scrunched the tissue in his hand and said,

'And what about those blokes in the Day Room?'

I replied.

'You and I cannot settle Garth by ourselves. Until Garth does that ...'

Wayne muttered, 'Bloody hell! Poor bastards! But you have a point.'

'So you will talk to Adrian by yourself?'

I nodded.

'Gawd! That's brave. Dealing with blokes who have been drinking is one thing. But dealing with blokes who have been drinking and watching footy ...'

Wayne lowered his voice.

'My boyfriend, Mark, works as a nurse in an Accident and Emergency Department.'

'He has cared for women brought in by ambulance after their husbands' footy team lost a match. What happened to those women left Mark in tears.'

'Yes,' I replied, 'I have heard similar stories in the women's groups I go to.'

I paused and said in a quiet voice, 'it scares me witless to think about approaching Adrian. But I will take a few minutes to think about ways to keep myself safe before I do.'

I took a deep breath.

'I will ...' Wayne said.

'No!' I butted in. 'But thank you. It’s not safe for you to be here.’

He paused before whispering, 'OK! I'll go.'

'Give us a ring sometime.'

'I'd like to know how it goes. And maybe we can catch up. I'm in the phone book under 'Bailey' out at Coogee.'

'I'll do that,' I replied.

'But what do I do with the keys and the uniform?'

'Don't worry about it,' I replied. 'This asylum's been around for a hundred years. I am sure there are plenty of both somewhere in the place.'

Wayne sighed and shook his head.

I smiled and said,

'Now, the next step,' I said, 'is to walk out of this ward and get into your beautiful Burnt Orange Volkswagen Kombi … '

'Parked beside your gorgeous British Racing Green Volkswagen 1300 Deluxe.' Wayne returned my smile.

'Yes, we pulled up together in the car park this morning.' I laughed.

'That's right,' he replied as he stood up.

'And thank you so much for all that you have done. Fingers crossed that you'll be OK when you talk to Adrian.'

'Thank you,' I replied.

'Bye for now,' Wayne said as he turned and left the office.

After everything that had happened, I struggled to keep my grip on reality and not let my sanity slip away.

But I steadied myself with congratulations for booting Adrian's little red wagon into buggery.

As well, I focused on how to help the thirty-five men in the locked Day Room.

To do that, however, I needed to speak with Adrian and his goons.