

# BAZZA!

Bazza!

By Graham Sealby

Copyright @2015 Graham Sealby

At Smashwords

### Prologue

With a soft hiss, the priest opened the sliding screen door in the confessional booth. He intoned . . .

'In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.'

'Bless me father, for I have sinned. It's been two weeks since my last conf. ( _choke_ ). .confession, and, and . . . father, I need help. ( _Pause_ ) I can't control myself.

There was a silence interrupted by the sound of soft sobbing. The priest waited until the penitent had composed himself. Eventually,

'At least, I don't think I can. I try, but every time I look at them, they . . . they're so beautiful. I just want to touch . . . to hold. But then ( _sounding anguished_ ) I get overwhelmed with lust, and . . . and . . . father, I just can't help myself.'

'My son, why don't you just tell me what's troubling you. Out with it. It's better to be candid for only then I can help you, and getting your problems out is the best way to deal with them. It also takes a large burden off your soul. But as a practicing Catholic you know that don't you?' Remember, Jesus forgives all our sins if we have the courage to admit to them.'

'Yes father, I do but I'm ashamed and, and . . . frightened. It's getting worse – I'm afraid that I'll do something bad - really bad.'

'Just tell me; unburden your conscience. Take your time . . . when you're ready. Sometimes when we bottle up our problems they become more serious than they really are.'

Silence; then,

'I'm ( _hesitantly_ ) a year 9 & 10 teacher at a local college, but on Sunday's I teach mostly indigenous kids about our religion and the salvation they derive from following Jesus. But . . . I'm ashamed . . . I . . . I've become infatuated with the girls at the school, ( _long_ _pause_ ) . . . particularly the aborigine girls. They're so beautiful, so carefree, so open, and so warm. Their eyes . . . their dark brown eyes are so . . . appealing. At ( _talking quickly_ ) night I become aroused just thinking about them. My loving turns to lusting, so much so that I can't control my urges.' But there's one . . . '

'Wait, _(sounding_ _shocked_ ) stop. You said that you were a teacher but you're lusting over the children given into your care? To have carnal thoughts is one worry, ( _pause_ ) but have you ever given in to your urges and had physical contact with any of the girls?'

'Yes father, yes I do; I mean . . . I have ( _pause_ ) There's one particular girl who. . . Ummm, err . . . looks after me but I don't really molest her because I give her money for her services. I know she passes the money onto her parents, who . . . well, I don't know what they use the money for.

'Stop ( _angry_ ) . . . stop there! I don't want to listen to your details, just your confession. ( _Pause_ ) You must be aware that sexually molesting any child is both illegal and abhorrent in the eyes of the community and Mother Church. Yet you seem to imply that you've done nothing wrong; that the giving of money seems to alleviate your crime. Don't you realize that you're making these children into prostitutes?' _(The penitent went to interrupt_ )

'No, please let me finish. What you're doing is very, very wrong. You must promise me that you will cease these disgraceful activities immediately. Only, and I mean only, then will I grant you absolution on the condition that you stop molesting these children. Do I have your solemn promise?'

( _Long pause_ ) 'I don't . . . (sob) know father. I don't want to . . . but I think I'm losing control. Please . . . please help me.'

There followed silence as the priest marshaled his thoughts. Then,

'Try and accept Jesus into your heart and ask for forgiveness. I can give you absolution if you truly repent your sins. Tell me, do you believe you'll take action on your perversion? Do you think you'll succumb to your lust?'

'My son, all I can do is help you mend your soul; to do that and give you absolution I must have your solemn promise that you will cease your carnal thoughts and activities. God will not forgive you if you act on your unhealthy desires. Do you understand?'

There was silence in the confessional before the priest continued,

'We can say an act of contrition together, but as a teacher, you know you're betraying your duty of care, as well as perusing acts that are illegal under the law. I can't help you there. You must seek professional help. I'll give you absolution only if you promise to undertake counseling Is that understood?'

'Thank you father, yes, yes I do.'

'Good! For your penance, say ten our fathers and ten hail Maries. Now, then let's say the Act of Contrition together'

' _Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all of my sins because . . .'_

###

Father Peter O'Brien, the Parish priest, waited till after the penitent had departed before leaving the confessional. It would not do to be face to face, especially on a matter as contentious as pedophilia.

Had he emerged sooner, he might have seen the penitent climb into his car, divest himself of his casual garb, and don regular clerical attire.

But thankfully he did not. As he crossed in front of the alter he genuflected before proceeding to his living quarters. His curate, Father James was preparing a cup of tea.

'Sit. Sit you down father, the tea's a-brewing; won't take a minute. You look like you need some sustenance, a troubling confessional?' Father James lilting Irish brogue seemed almost musical to the ears.

'In many ways yes, in many ways. There are times when being a priest and trying to live with the seal of the confessional is a burden too large to bear; especially for one person.'

There was silence as Father James pushed a now steaming cup of tea towards Father O'Brien. The curate did not want to intrude on a clearly troubled superior, but then when Fa. O'Brien did not respond he offered,

'Yes, I can understand. Often, whilst we let our penitents unburden themselves to us before God, all that really happens is they transfer their problems onto ourselves. To be sure it's unfair because we end up living with a problem on our conscience.'

'Exactly', agreed Father O'Brien ( _sipping his steaming hot tea)_ 'Exactly. Just now I heard something that I should report to the police, but I can't. Damn! Damn it!'

There was silence as Father James gently stirred his tea and Father O'Brien stared morosely into his teacup.

'Aarh, have done with it now father. There's not a thing you can do. Let it be. It's a good man y'are father; don't distress yerself so.'

'Easy to say, oh so easy to say. I only wish I could. I have a feeling . . . a bad feeling that this will come back to me soon in a way that will affect not only you and I, but the whole community.'

### Chapter One

Barry pulled into the closest available parking space, turned off the ignition and settled back with a sigh of relief. The drive from Melbourne since mid-morning to this part of South Gippsland was not long, but he'd driven all the way without a stop.

He surveyed the spreading Marist Brothers College and the adjacent (St. Bridget's) nunnery that dominated this small Victorian country town of Waterford. The grounds certainly were spacious and well kept with flowerbeds and some ornamental trees. He gave a mental tick to the gardeners.

_Fuck! Well this is it. After all the exchanges of letters and phone calls, I'm about to experience cold reality. Is this the only way to recover from a messy love affair? Who knows? If there is a manual on how to deal with heartbreak then I'd like to know. Am I being a coward and running away or being courageous? (_ Sigh _) I guess there's only one way to find out._

###

Barry climbed the wide entrance steps that opened into the main foyer. It was quiet and strangely deserted even at this time of the afternoon. From around a corner a 'mousey' young woman appeared, carrying what looked to be textbooks.

'I'm looking for Brother Dominic; can you tell me where he might be?'

Following the young woman's directions he found himself fronting a door marked PRINCIPAL. He knocked on the door and a gruff voice bid him 'enter'!

Opening the door he came face to face with a veritable she-dragon. Two ferocious eyes stared at him through pearly-rimmed reading glasses.

'Can I help you? Said she, with a voice that was pure venom.

'Um. My name is Barry Thomson . . . from Melbourne. I'm the new teacher and . . . '

'You're early. We weren't expecting you until tomorrow. Did you get the time wrong?'

'Umm, no. I just thought I'd come early so I could settle in before I start classes. Is it a problem?'

'Only that the Headmaster is a very busy man and he can't just drop his schedule to talk to some inconsiderate wretch who doesn't have the courtesy of keeping to an appointed time.'

Now Barry had a way of dealing with these females. Mentally he stripped her naked. No bras, no make-up, no girdle, no panties. And what an ugly sight. Riddled with cellulite; her tits hung down like used condoms; her wide fat hips overflowed around her girth and her face looked like a saggy gorgon. He had to suppress a smile as she self-importantly flounced into the Principal's office . . . of course, without knocking.

Returning, she grudgingly ushered Barry into the Headmaster's office where he was greeted with a warm handshake and invited to sit. Barry studied his new boss; even seated Brother Dominic looked tall and studious. Sitting back in his chair, Barry could feel his intelligent eyes observing him. When he eventually spoke it was with a calm and resonant voice.

"Welcome Mr. Thomson, welcome. You are impressively early. Did you have a good journey?"

'Umm yes, thank you. I hope I'm not intruding or being rude by turning up early.'

'Not at all no, not at all. If you had difficulty with my secretary, please don't be concerned. She likes to unsettle all newcomers. Really, she's all bark and no bite. Can I offer your some tea or coffee?'

'Well she was a little daunting,' said Barry somewhat relieved. 'I only wanted to get settled before classes commenced; and no thanks I don't need any refreshments just now.'

Barry started to feel relaxed; he leaned back and placed his arm around his chair.

'Good, good. Just give me a moment to . . . to locate your file ( _pause_ ). . . Aarh, here it is. Now let's see. You went to Frankston high and then started Teacher College training before being interrupted by your career as a rookie for the Saint Kilda Football Club.' Brother Dominic looked up to observe Barry's affirmative nod. Then,

'And after retiring from football you completed your Teacher College studies. Following graduation you spent a year with Frankston Secondary College. This brings us to now. Have I summed up your career correctly?'

'Yes', Barry agreed. 'That's about it I guess'.

Putting down his reading glasses, Brother Dominic peered at Barry with a small smile.

'We all admire your football exploits here; we are indeed lucky to have someone so famous. Tell me, do you miss playing football?'

Sitting back still with his arm around the back of the chair, Barry gave a small laugh before responding,

'I miss playing footy. Yes, I love the game and do miss it; but what I don't miss is the training. These days only young guys can keep up with the heavy training demands. I'm happy to just watch.'

'Well, as you probably know we encourage football here. Our school has been prominent in developing the sport with boys and has enjoyed some success. But I'm sure you're aware of this. '

Barry just nodded, as Brother Dominic continued,

'Our sports master is Brother Michael, and I'll introduce you when we're finished talking. It's my hope that you could perhaps share some of your practical match experience with him and our boys. Brother Michael does not have the personal track record that you do.'

'I'll try and help out in any way that I can. However, I'm not here for footy. I want to resume my teaching career and hopefully become a better teacher. I love kids and get a kick by helping them achieve their full potential. I'd like to think that I can apply sound teaching practices to football; and I'm here for as long as you want me.'

Brother Dominic nodded his approval, but then he seemed to become uneasy, almost embarrassed. After a moment's pause,

'From your correspondence you mentioned that you've recently had a distressful incident in your private life and that's the reason you want to . . . hmmm ( _pause_ ) err . . . escape to the country. Am I correct?'

'Yes, ( _sounding subdued_ ) yes; but I'm over most of the emotional pain and I assure you that my recent personal experience will not affect my ability to teach.'

Suddenly an image of Wendy flashed in his mind and once again, her beautiful eyes and heart-like face captivated him. Why, oh why did she have to betray him when . . . ?

After a moment's reflection Barry continued,

'In a way you're right; coming to the country was a necessary move to avoid any harmful memories that I had in Melbourne. Yes, I decided to change my location. I hope that you won't affect your judgment of my ability as a teacher.'

'No of course not! But if you're feeling stressed in the aftermath of your unpleasant experience I'd advise you to perhaps seek council . . . someone to talk to. By the way, are you a religious person?

'No sir, no I'm not. I hope I don't offend you, but I find that organized religion does not promote peace in the world. In fact it is the cause of most conflicts. In a way I wish I could believe; it would be comforting to have such reassurance.' Then as an afterthought,

'I hope my skepticism will not mar our relationship?'

"No, of course not Mr. Thomson. Sadly, I know many religious people who are definitely not virtuous, as I also know many nonbelievers who are wonderful human beings.

Now, let's go find Bro. Michael; I'll introduce you to him, but as far as the other members of the faculty, please feel free to visit the common room and make yourself known.''

###

They found Brother Michael on the school sports ground, where he was putting the school footy team through some basic muscle conditioning. The sports master was a man in his late thirties who obviously, even with his baggy track attire, kept himself in good shape. He had a full head of black hair parted, in an old-fashioned way on the side. His face was craggy, like a boxer who had had one too many fights, and his eyes were cold; a cold grey that seemed not to carry any warmth. But when he smiled his features softened.

His handshake was firm and masculine - almost friendly. With Br. Dominic looking on they exchanged pleasantries and Barry began to relax. He offered,

'It's a real pleasure to meet you Brother Michael; I've been hearing how successful you've been with the lads.'

'Thank you Barry; please drop the 'Brother' and call me simply Mike, everyone does. Yes we've got a good team and we'll benefit from your match experience. The boys know about you joining us and they're enthusiastic to meet with you. A couple of youngsters have caught my eye and I'm giving them special attention. I'd like your opinion.

With that Br. Dominic interrupted with,

'Now that you two have met I'll be off to attend to other matters' Turning slightly he remarked to Barry,

'Brother Michael is very good with the boys, and I'm sure Barry that you'll give him your earnest help'; and then walked away.

But once he was out of hearing, the atmospherics changed. Brother Michael took a step backwards and placed his hands on his hips. Gone were the friendly smile and the warmth he generated before. His eyes grew cold and he stared at Barry with a look of utmost contempt.

'Let me make myself clear, crystal clear. I don't give a shit about your so-called brilliant footy career. I'm in charge; these are my boys and my team. You can play with them all you like but if I find you instructing them, I'll have your guts. Understand mister, there's only one coach and that's gonna be me. Oh, they can ask you questions and slobber after you; treat you as a star, I can't do anything about that, but if I find you questioning any of my strategies I'll whip you to within an inch of your life. Do I make myself clear?'

'No, not really; I wasn't paying too much attention. I'm off to update my 'Working with Children' accreditation at the local police station. Will you tell the headmaster I might be half an hour late tomorrow morning. Thanks . . . Mike'; and walked off leaving the Sports master fuming. Then spying Billy Yorta close by Br. Michael yelled,

'Yorta . . . get back to the team before I put my boot up your scrawny, black abbo arse.'

But the boys had been covertly watching the face to face between Barry and Brother Michael and as soon as Barry started walking away they raced over and surrounded him. In a flash, boys swamped Barry wanting to touch him, to shake his hand and fire questions at him. There were cries of,

'Hey Barry do you miss . . . ' and,

'Bazza, Bazza will you coach us . . . ' and,

'Hey, I got a sister who . . .'

Barry tried to answer all the questions and gladly shook the proffered hands. All the while he was grimly aware of Bro. Mike standing alone, red faced and seething. Gently he extracted himself from the throng and said,

'Hey guys, I'll get to know each of you soon enough, but for now you better go back and let Bro. Mike finish training for today. It's important you do what the coach says. Training hard is an integral part of becoming a successful footballer; and with that he slowly walked away.

###

Barry had an option of choosing a flat or a semi-detached for his personal use and he opted for the latter. He loved having space around him. The house was completely furnished; not exactly for his liking but it'd do for the time being. At breakfast his thoughts wandered to Br. Mike's outburst.

_Well, at least I know where I stand with the cunt. What a two-faced shit he is; friendly in company, but a complete arsehole when no one's around. I wonder what makes him tick. Frustration probably, I reckon being celibate is unnatural. I bet he beats off when alone, fanaticizing over some juicy chick. I'll still have to watch him though – he could be trouble_. (Sigh _) Just when I'm endeavoring to escape emotional trauma I'm suddenly faced with another predicament. Wendy, Wendy, Wendy. Why did you do it, and do it with that piece of shit Cameron? Wouldn't it have been more honest to call our affair over, rather than going behind my back?_

Bitch, bitch, bitch! I suppose I am running away, but Wendy, you really hurt me. It's gonna take some time to overcome the hurt.

His most immediate task was to visit the local cop's shop and register his 'Working with Children' permit that he had kept current throughout his footy career. Walking through the main doors he headed for the enquiry counter; an odd mixture of stale sweat and old leather assaulted his nostrils. The room beyond was full of old battered desks with uncomfortable chairs, many of which were unoccupied. Over in a corner several youngish uniformed male cops were drinking coffee and chatting.

Immediately he was welcomed by a young female constable with blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had an open friendly face and a soft pleasing voice.

'How can we help you?'

'Um . . . I'm a new teacher at the Marist College, and I want to present my 'Working with Children' certificate. I know this is not mandatory but I reckon I should do this anyway.' He felt the constable, whose nametag read 'Senior Constable Meadows', appraising him.

'Your face is familiar. Do I know you from somewhere? I reckon I'm good at face recognition; and then the light dawned,

'Hey ( _enthusiastically_ ) hey, you're Barry Thomson; Barry Thomson who plays for St. Kilda, right?'

'Yep ( _a little self-consciously_ ), that's me. I'm retired from playing now and wish to continue my teaching career.'

'Wow, Barry Thomson in person. I'm a great fan; been a Saints supporter for many years now. God, wait till I tell my old man that I've met Barry Thomson. Can I have your autograph?'

'Happy to oblige. Tell me your hubby's name then I'll get a footy and autograph it for him.'

'Nah, meant my dad, no husband yet. My pop will go bonkers to have an autographed footy by Bazza Thomson; can't wait to tell him. By the way, my name's Gloria. Geeze, I can't believe it, Barry Thomson in person.'

The conversation was overheard by the group of young cops and they broke away to join Barry and (senior) Constable Meadows. They all wanted to shake Barry's hand and compliment him. Seems that while they supported different teams they as one, respected his on-field skills. There was a lot of laughter and friendly jibes thrown around; Constable Meadows it seems was accepted as 'one of the boys'. Barry was in the middle of retelling the tale of the drawn Grand Final against Collingwood when,

'WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON? This is a police station unless you haven't noticed. I could hear the racket out back. Someone better explain – now!'

Barry paused and turned round to face the direction of the menacing voice. All conversation had died. Then before he could do anything further the voice continued,

"Aha, Barry Thomson. How are you Barry? Heard you were coming to our town . . . remember me?' Now Barry came face to face with the voice and gulped . . . Laurie Cree. It was Laurie Cree, a lot older but still the same and - Sergeant Laurie Cree no less! Into the stony silence that had gripped everybody Barry managed,

'Laurie . . . Laurie Cree. 'It's been a long time: haven't seen you since we were kids. How long has it been . . . 15 years? You're looking good.' This last sounded pathetic.

'Don't bullshit me! Life sucks! But here we are again; and if you think I've mellowed over time – think again. Being the famous footballer doesn't gel with me; you're still the 'pretty boy' I used to beat every time we fought.' And turning 'round to the onlookers, he barked,

'Get back to work – all of you; Get cracking; NOW!'

Then, with a slight inclination of his head, he indicated his corner office and requested Barry to,

'Come . . . let's talk.'

The Laurie Cree of old had not changed and this was evident in the plain, almost stark furnishings creating an atmosphere that reeked of testosterone; the stale smell of unwashed flesh and tobacco. In this room authority prevailed – and supposedly, justice dispensed.

Inviting Barry to sit, Sergeant Cree leaned forward with his elbows on the desk. Laurie Cree was an ugly person to look at because all his features were oversized. His nose was too big; his ears too large; the mouth too wide and the face too fleshy; and his eyes seemed to smolder with barely repressed anger. Over all he looked punch drunk. Compared to Barry, Laurie Cree was just plain unattractive. Perhaps this was why he always bullied Barry at school.

Cree leaned back and surveyed Barry with cold eyes.

'From ( _menacing_ ) when we were kids, we have history . . . bad history, don't we? Now you're in my town, and supposedly famous. Well, that don't cut with me; I feel the same about you as I did back then.' He paused and sniggered at Barry,

'You were always the popular kid and I got real pleasure at pounding the shit outta you. Gotta agree that at times you fought well, but I reckon I got the edge on ya, hey? Me Pa used to hug me every time I came home victorious after knocking the crap outta you. Fact is sometimes I useta fight you just t' get a hug from me old man. You copy?'

'Laurie, putting aside the problems with your father why, just why, do you still harbor this antagonism towards me.' Now Barry leaned forward so that their faces were very close.

'Isn't it about time we stopped acting like children and treat each other as adults? And I'd also add . . . start respecting each other.' When Cree started to interrupt, Barry continued,

'No, let me finish. You're the senior cop and I'm just a teacher at the local school. There, it that's simple . . . let's not complicate our relationship beyond that. There's no need.'

'No ( _angrily_ ) need! You say no need. Well let me tell you I loved me Dad, and if he hated you and your family that's good enough for me. Good enough then and good enough now!

As Cree was talking Barry thought,

. . . He hasn't grown up in the last fifteen years. There's no reasoning with him; he still enjoys being antagonistic. One day I must get in touch with Jeff, his young brother, and find out what makes Cree so unpleasant. It's not natural to harbor all this rage for so long. Jeff is someone I can talk to. We used to be very good friends.

'. . . and my duty is very clear; I try to make my own family an example to all. I have a wife and two boys who make me very proud. It's why the people in this community look up to me. I run a tight ship and if anyone tries to test me, they'll find out quick smart that it's not a good idea to fuck with me.

'Laurie,' Barry said getting up, 'If you're determined to continue this antagonism then knock yourself out. Wallow in it if you will; I'm getting on with my life and to hell with your hatred.'

And he then walked out into the absolute silence of the reception area. A soft voice said,

'Barry . . .' Turning around he saw that Senior Constable Meadows was holding a piece of paper which he took before striding angrily out of the police station.

###

' . . . I told you not to call me on this line; it's too dangerous. Texting is better, as long as you immediately delete our exchanges.'

'I know, I know; but you said you had some more photos and I'm anxious to see them. I've had several very rewarding sessions with the young aboriginal girl and she doesn't seem to mind. I pay her well and I suspect the money goes directly to her parents.'

'Mmmm . . . just go quietly; don't overdo the relationship. What we're doing is very dangerous but if we're careful we won't get caught. If we're careful . . . do you understand?'

_'(Getting angry_ ) Of course I do! Don't take me for an idiot! However, it seems that the abbo parents now realize they have a ready supply of money by letting their kids offer sex favors. For instance another . . . friend was contacted by an aboriginal boy who offered to please him for a generous amount of money.'

'Wow stop! I don't like the sound of that. How old is the abbo boy?'

'Didn't ask; why is it important?'

'Well depends on how old he is. We are targeting adolescents, not children. If we go down that path, we may as well be running a business, and that's when it could become more dangerous. Explain to your . . . friend, that he should be very careful and not expose all of us to any unwanted risk. ( _Pause_ ) So tell me are you still fooling around with the same little abbo girl?'

'Yes and no. Well no, and I'm getting frustrated. But I've got my eye on another young abbo girl who walks home alone after school. Like you, their soft velvety skin makes me go weak at the knees.'

'Yes, yes I understand. But just remember we're pedophiles; the law and prison can be very hard on us.'

'But not Mother Church, eh?'

### Barry

‎His earliest memories were of his grandmother and the way she would cuddle him and wrap him in her arms as they snuggled together in her double bed. The warmth and feel of her large silky undies (then called bloomers) made him feel comfortable and secure. She always smelt of some sweet fragrance.

She possessed a large copy of Irish history, heavily bound with embroided Celtic runes, which she read to him until they both fell asleep. He became obsessed with the stories of Brian Boru, the hill of Tara and Ulster, the royal province. The legendry hero Cú Chulainn entranced him with his exploits of bravery, fighting evildoers and, eventually, suffering a hero's death.

Being a fierce catholic, she would whisper of the coming of Saint Patrick; how he expelled all the snakes and creepy creatures from Erin as well as installing (or imposing) the Catholic Church in Erin's Isle.

She took her religion seriously and would eagerly await the regular production of the Catholic Weekly, following him and reading segments aloud. If he wasn't listening, she would roll up the paper and bash him over the head.

As he got older, he found that going to mass was boring and secretly started to go to the Protestant's Sunday school. Here he would be told stories and assist in making baskets and other stuff; this was far more interesting than sitting in a cold and drafty church listening to the priest mumble in Latin and then sermonizes against everything that was fun. No, the Sunday school was more fun, but there was a price to be paid. His grandmother found out.

That's where the shit hit the fan!

With much wailing and shouting he was consigned to his room for several days, and then had to be escorted to mass every Sunday with his grandmother. Strangely enough, his mother (Clair) didn't go to Mass and he felt shitty that she got off whereas he had to be punished for having fun. His grandfather terrified him; he teased him and generally tried to rough him up. But there was one occasion he'd always remember. He was playing in the back yard when his grandfather called,

'Hey young-un come over here and watch this.'

He went over to where his grandfather was standing near an old tree stump. Suddenly, the old man produced a chicken and an axe that he'd hidden behind his back and promptly cut the chook's head off. The headless chook started to run around and after a moment of shock, young Barry took off yelling 'Nanna, Nanna . . .' But his granddad eventually died a martyr to his religion; he got drunk and fell off the church roof whilst replacing tiles.

With this early indoctrination, it was with extreme difficulty that, in later years, he discarded his faith; he saw through all the lies and deceptions that were part of Catholic brain washing.

But he loved the old bird and when she died he felt as is some part of his childhood, died with her.

Looking back over his early years his childhood was very unhappy. His parents were always fighting and as he got older it became worse. There were times when he fervently wished they would separate so that at least he could enjoy some happiness with either parent, without all the pain.

It gradually became so bad that on several occasions his father tried to kill himself. On one of these occasions he locked himself in the laundry, turned on the gas water heater, and tried to gas himself. Barry, perhaps only nine or ten, had to break the door down to stop his father's attempted suicide.

At other times his parents would fight and he'd have to physically defend his mother by striking his father. On one of these occasions his uncle was called in to help and when the drama settled down, his uncle told him to 'get out'- to leave home as soon as he was old enough. As if there wasn't enough drama, his mother gave birth to a brother who had an extreme disability . . . a withered left arm. Whenever the family had to go out, his mother would dress his brother in such a way as to conceal the withered left arm. In later years, his brother . . . who he adored . . . would detach himself from reality by using drugs.

What was all the drama about? He never knew. But he did come to realize that his mother was very free with her tongue and if she was crossed, it would lead to brutal emotional outbursts. At times as he grew older, he would come home from school to find her (conveniently) stretched out on the hallway floor pretending to have passed out. Other times, she would simply leave a note saying that she was going away and not to come looking for her - which of course he did. She always managed to be found.

But there was another aspect of his childhood that he had to endure. Next door to where they lived in Frankston, there was the family Cree. The father was a brute named Bert Cree who was a bastard to his wife, Irene. There were two sons, Laurie and Jeff and a younger daughter, Rita.

The eldest Laurie was a thug like his father but the younger Jeffry was as unlike his elder brother as chalk was to cheese. The little sister never featured in any of the drama.

For some reason there was bad blood between the Thomsons and the Crees. No one told Barry what the feud was about. Several times the grudge would arise at school and Laurie Cree would challenge Barry to a fight after school. The whole school (Frankston Primary) would know about the challenge and (usually outside the school grounds) a ring of spectators would form and Laurie and Barry would go at it.

Cree mostly won, being a lot bigger and Barry would go home battered and humiliated. Strangely, his mother, rather than administering to his wounds, would admonish him for not winning the fight. On the rare times he did win (by luck) she wouldn't say a word . . . just act smug.

What was the feud about? He never knew; it was just there, and being a child he had enough to handle with his mother's verbal viciousness; his father's suicidal attempts; the tragedy of his brother, and the hostility of Laurie Cree, to ever wonder if all of these unhappy travails weren't related. It would be years before he would be able to relate them.

And he had his own problems to contend with. For some reason he couldn't sit on a toilet seat to defecate; he had to squat on the seat. He tried sitting but it actually prevented him from functioning. One day, an aunt walked in on him whilst in this unusual position and she hit the roof. His secret was out and he was made to sit on the seat. Why he did this neither he nor anyone else knew- it just was. And it was an uncomfortable long time before he could use the toilet seat as it was intended.

But by then, he was starting to feel different- nothing explicit . . . just different. He became something of a loner and wandered around the local bush by himself rather than with the company of others. Perhaps it was that with such an unhappy home life he sought his own company.

But with other boys of similar ages there was the growing problem of sexuality. One day whilst performing his defecation he found his Willy had grown hard. Several times lately, he had woken in the morning to find a strange discharge over his bed sheets; not knowing what caused it he became frightened.

One day he found himself with a very painfully hard penis and in order to relieve the pain he squeezed it firmly several times. All at once a terribly unfamiliar but pleasant feeling began to take hold of him and a strange fluid erupted from his Willy. He was terrified; he thought he was dying; he felt guilty; he felt extreme pleasure; and he didn't have a clue what had happened.

Who could he talk to? No one; certainly not his parents; certainly not his grandmother; certainly not his aunt; and definitely not the bloody priest. He was alone and the only boy in the whole world who had experienced this traumatic event. It had to be kept a secret. When he was forced to go to confession he just left out his secret, never telling the bloody priest who just wouldn't understand anyway!

Tucked away in the bush was an old abandoned water-filled quarry overlooked by a dilapidated tin shed. In summer, several of the boys in his street would gather at the quarry and stripping naked, would use the quarry pool as a swimming pond. In time the tin shed would become a clubhouse and the focal point for games such as cowboys and Indians; King Arthur and his knights of the round table; and hide and go seek.

They also investigated their sexuality by comparing their penis sizes and listening to tales (bullshit) of sexual misdeeds. It was naughty, dangerous, and thrilling. Members of the other sex were not invited, but those who had the misfortune to have sisters would describe the female anatomy, particularly how they had to pee. To Barry, it seemed a silly way to perform a natural function and he was glad he could stand up and empty his bladder without having to squat.

When they talked about naked females he noticed the boys, (himself included) would become obsessed and flustered. They would suffer painful erections and then they would start to tell dirty jokes and share observations about certain females they knew in the locality. Gradually, all talk about sex became fixated on females.

Around this time Jeff Cree, being a friend of one of the boys, came on the scene. Barry was extremely wary of Jeff knowing the hostility that existed between their families. He was not about to let anyone of the Cree family know about his secret secrets and thus give ammunition to Laurie the thug.

Gradually he warmed to Jeff, and he found him soft-spoken and a little shy. He wasn't a leader as was Barry, and before Barry understood, Jeff had attached himself to Barry. They started to enjoy each other's company and Barry sensed that for the first time he had a real friend. It took some time for Barry to become comfortable enough to let Jeffry into his complete confidence; when he did he was amazed to find that Jeffry was also troubled by the alarming changes to his body.

On one occasion, Barry asked Jeff why Laurie was so hostile to him. All Jeff would say that he didn't have a clue. But being curious and wanting to impress Barry, Jeff asked his older brother why he was so belligerent towards Barry Thomson; all Cree would say was he was being egged on by his father, the most feared Bert Cree.

Apart from sex and females, the boys were intensely interested in footy. They would gather down at the local park practicing taking marks and kicking goals. Gradually, Barry became aware that he had more skill than the other lads and when they formed teams, he became a natural leader. He was picked for the primary school team to play against other schools. The school coach, to Barry's chagrin, made Barry play in the midfield where he reckoned his marking and goal kicking skills were wasted. But the coach insisted, seeing in Barry the ability to direct and steer the play from midfield.

As he got older, his footy skills became recognized and he played in the local peninsular league for Frankston, all the time being picked as a midfielder. But it didn't take long for him to find the next footy level; he was selected to play for the local VFL team, the Frankston Dolphins. After two seasons at Frankston he was noticed by St. Kilda Saints and became a regular player for the AFL team.

As he grew up he developed an intense interest in Teaching and went to Teachers college after leaving school. His Year twelve marks were excellent so he was accepted at the college because he readily filled all the entrance requirements.

But his home life continued to be a disaster. His mother continued to terrify and manipulate everyone with her emotional broadsides and he gradually became to hate her . . . really hate her. His father . . . well he became a pitiful old man who just endured his wife's outbursts. Barry didn't know him; didn't like him; didn't respect him; didn't talk to him and didn't even talk about him; he simply ignored him. To Barry, his father was a ghost.

But by his early teens he knew he couldn't control his urges. Because he was good looking and physically fit, girls were attracted to him. But he was very shy; he just didn't like anyone getting too close to him. He dated many girls but always shied away from any physical contact; he became known as a 'gentleman'. This couldn't continue because he was constantly aroused by the lies that other boys told. His need for sex eventually overcame his basic shyness; but how was he to lose his virginity? How? According to the bullshit after footy training, having sex was something that just came naturally; it was simple, easy. The girl lay down; you climbed on top and . . . Bullshit! Barry suspected that if any woman or girl offered themselves, the guys would take off in a cloud of dust.

Eventually, he felt game enough to approach his present coach who had almost treated Barry as a son. So, one night after training, he drew the coach aside and after a few hesitant and embarrassed starts, he voiced his dilemma. He was lucky; the coach was a man who understood the perils of adolescence and told Barry he'd sort something out. A few days later he told Barry he'd found a solution; an exclusive brothel that specialized in helping young men begin their sexual journey. At first Barry was appalled, but then the coach confessed he'd had the same introduction and it had given him a healthy attitude to the joy of sex.

So several days later the coach went with him to the brothel. Barry was grateful because if the coach hadn't been there he was sure he'd bolt. He was terrified; nervous; apprehensive but also excited by the prospect of having his first sexual encounter.

They approached a plain ordinary door painted red with a silver number to denote the street address. After the coach knocked, the door was opened by a woman who could have been his mother. She ushered the two inside and said,

'So Freddy, this is the young man who is visiting with us today? Hmmm . . . well come on in and we'll get acquainted; but Barry's mind was spinning,

Oh no, no, no! She's old and ugly . . . shit! I can't have sex with her. I can't have sex with me mother . . . shit! I won't be able to get an erection with this old hag. Fuck, fuck, and double fuck; I have to get away; how? Why would Freddy try and hook me up with this monstrosity? He must be mad. God look at her tits, they sag all the way to her belly button, and those rolls of fat around her gut make her completely repulsive. She looks like Humpty Dumpty. I'm gunna . . .

Freddy, noticing Barry's distress introduced Anastasia and let him know that she was the manager of the House and would take good care of him. Barry tried to relax as Anastasia guided him to a lounge and bid him sit. Even the dreamy sound of K.D. Lang and the soft fragrance of lavender could not allay Barry's trepidation. So preoccupied with bolting out the door, he didn't hear Anastasia call,

'Mai Ling'

Then Barry looked up as a curtain opened and out walked the most beautiful young Asian girl he'd ever seen. Jet-black hair and skin as creamy as milk. Then she smiled showing beautiful teeth with just a touch of lipstick around her full lips. But her coal black eyes looked softly at Barry and made him feel as if he was the only person in the room. She moved seductively across the room as Barry stared rapturously at her perfect figure. She came and sat beside him and placed a very soft feminine hand on his. She smelt wonderfully of Jasmine and Barry banished all previous thoughts of escape. His groin had a mind of its own and he began to panic. She held into his hand and whispered,

'You are a very sexy man; Mai Ling is very lucky to get to know you. I'm told you are a famous football player. I would like to come and watch you play if that is alright?'

'Err, yes (stammering) yes; I would like that very much. Our next . . .'

'We can discuss that later. For now, let's go inside and get away from these old people; Mai Ling would like to give you a very special massage. Would that be OK?'

Without waiting for a response, she stood up and still holding his hand led him gently through the curtain into another world. Barry's heart was pounding and his mouth was dry with anticipation. Anticipation seemed to affect his penis that seemed to have a mind of its own; a very distressing mind of its own.

Mai Ling, still holding his hand, opened a door that led into a tastily furnished room, the centerpiece of which was a massage table. The air smelt of some exotic perfume with soft relaxing music playing in the background.

'Please Barry, go behind that screen, and take all your clothes off then use this towel to cover your midriff. When you're ready just come out and lay face down on the table.

So Barry complied and so began his introduction into the delights and joy of sex. Mai Ling let him explore her body and showed him how to stimulate her coitus, nipples, ankles and other hidden parts of the female body. Then she began exploring his own body and stimulating areas around his penis, his nipples, the nape of his neck and other areas that had him groaning with ecstasy. By the time she had finished he was completely drained but glowing with gratification. He felt utterly decadent. After showering with Mai Ling, he joined Freddy and Anastasia outside and thanked them both profusely.

Walking home Freddy told him that most boys' first experience with sex is traumatic and often affects their sexual relations with a partner for the rest of their lives. At least Barry had a positive start but it was up to him to apply the knowledge he'd gained today and not listen to the smutty bullshit that often comes from his mates.

After that, he enjoyed many encounters with the opposite sex but they meant nothing to him; his focus was on footy and Teachers College.

Then he met Wendy. It was at an annual footy function to award 'The Best and Fairest' club player for that particular year. Their eyes met and they knew there was a strong attraction. They started going steady and as a couple they looked radiant. He was blond and well built - a blond Adonis; she was blond with a gorgeous figure - a blond Venus. Soon Wendy moved in with him and that was when the fairytale fell apart. They were two different people; they shared different values and objectives. They started to fight, occasionally at first, but soon were having more and more arguments. Of course their sex like also diminished.

All their friends could see that the fairytale was going to end badly; and badly it did. Wendy betrayed him with an insignificant young rookie called Cameron.

Once the shock and hurt had subsided a little, Barry decided he needed a break, a new beginning. With the trauma of dealing with a lover who'd betrayed him, the ever-present emotional drain of his parents, and the fact that his best footy years were behind him, he needed a change, a 'sea change' as they say. Looking through the Age classifieds, he noticed a position at a Marist Brothers college in Waterford in the Gippsland area of Victoria. It sounded perfect.

After the exchange of resumes and other correspondence, to his delight and not a little surprise, he was accepted.

So Barry headed off to Waterford Marist Brothers College to start a new phase of his life.

### Jeffry

One day when he was only four years old, his grandmother told him very gently that his parents had gone away and wouldn't be coming back.

'Why? Why is my mummy and daddy not coming back? Where have they gone?'

'They have gone to God; God's taken them away to live with him . . .'

'Well tell Mr. God that I wants my mummy and daddy back. Tell 'im that If'n he don't give 'em back, I'll punch him.'

At this, his Grandmother burst into tears and gently hugged the little boy who began to sob his heart out. For some reason, for the rest of his life, Jeffry felt anger towards his grandmother.

It was decided for him to go live with his aunt Irene who was his mother's sister. He didn't know his aunt very well but her husband Bert made little Jeffry afraid. He was very big and smelt bad. Also, there was an older cousin called Laurie and from the day Jeffry entered the Cree household, Laurie began to bully him. It usually ended up with Jeffry in tears and Laurie and father Bert laughing at him.

Jeffry soon became aware that his aunt had little to say in family matters; big Bert ran the house like a Mafia boss. Being a sensitive child Jeffry became much attached to his aunt, perhaps because she was the only close family that he had. Of course, this made Laurie a little jealous and he goaded Jeffry at every opportunity. Laurie was also very willful which made him a regular candidate for Bert Cree's belt. Jeff would derive great pleasure in listening to the beating his cousin received; when Laurie started whimpering, Jeffry couldn't contain his delight.

One Christmas, Irene gave Jeff a Mechano set and he developed a love of building things, particularly when it involved moving parts. He would spend painstaking hours building and disassembling structures that were set out in the accompanying manual. It was no surprise therefore that, as he got older, he became fiercely interested in mechanical things; especially motor vehicles.

Bert Cree hated dogs, so his aunt brought Jeffry a little pooch on his ninth birthday. Of course, the boss was outraged but Irene stood firm and the dog was allowed, but only to be kept outside. As the dog was the only friend he had in the world, he called the pooch 'Buddy'. Soon Jeff and the dog were inseparable; they played together; had races; ate together; explored the bush together and when the bastard Cree was not home, they slept together. For Jeff, this was the happiest time of his life.

Then someone gave the dog a meal laced with ground glass and little Buddy died a long and very painful death.

Jeffry was distraught; inconsolable; he wanted to die . . . and once again he blamed God. Why would God, who was supposed to be all things good, allow someone to do this evil deed and not be punished? Through all his tears and despair he kept asking 'Why?' There was no answer to the 'Why' and no answer to the 'Who?'

But, of course, there were candidates to both questions.

Being close to the Port Philip bay beaches, swimming became his sport of choice and he found that he had a natural talent for swimming - and then competitive swimming. The school coach singled him out for special attention and he began to improve in both style and speed. But he didn't do well over long distances so the coach concentrated on fifty and one hundred-meter dashes. He was selected to swim the final leg in the team relay, which usually resulted in the team's success. He loved swimming; he loved the freedom of the water and as his body developed to a swimmers physique, he began to swim faster until his times made him a candidate for interstate swimming competitions.

But his personal life was going downhill. After Buddy was murdered he started to shun company. And then when in company, he was extremely shy; it was as if he didn't want to expose his real self to other people and this became more significant as he got older. Like all young boys transiting puberty, he was alarmed by the changes in his body. His voice became deeper; he grew body hair around his Willy; he grew taller and then, worst of all, he began to be sexually aroused.

And there was no one he could turn to. Not Bert Cree; not his cousin Laurie; not his aunt; but maybe, just maybe, his coach. When he approached his trainer and asked the dreaded questions he was agreeably surprised. His questions were answered kindly, but he had to admit, he didn't understand anything the coach said; but he appreciated the effort.

Next door lived a family called Thomson. It seemed the Thomsons and Crees were mortal enemies; there was definitely bad blood that often resulted in the Thomson boy fighting his cousin Laurie. He felt sorry for Barry Thomson 'cause he was no match for Laurie the bully. Time after time, Jeffry watched as Barry Thomson limped away from a fight very much the worst for wear. But he never backed down, even when some of the kids told him to just cop the verbal abuse and not mix it physically with the thug.

He also felt sorry for Barry because of his parents. The mother was a vicious harpy, and the father? Well he let his son do the fighting and never once backed him up. A real shit- head.

With all the bad atmospherics, he naturally stayed away from any contact with the Thomson boy; he didn't want to get caught up in a feud that had nothing to do with him. Although he'd never talked to the boy next door he somehow recognized a kindred spirit. On the rare occasions he talked with Barry Thomson he found him quiet, sensitive and above all, interested in what people were saying; he was that rarest of individuals - a good listener.

But he had no time to dwell on anyone else's problems when he was battling his own demons. He recognized most of the physical changes the coach had told him about and dealt with then easily. One of the lads in the swim team was a boy called Warren who also lived in the same street. They became friendly rivals and used their competitive nature to improve each other's performance. Warren was a good-looking boy with a shock of blond hair and the physique of a swimmer; he was admired by both boys and girls, but he never seemed to play on his popularity to make friends.

Jeff and Warren became natural friends and they used to indulge in fantasies involving the other sex. Then Warren introduced him to the gang at the quarry. Of course, he knew the quarry pond existed but he was never asked to join in the frivolities with the other boys. Now, Warren's popularity was such that when he proposed Jeffry the other boys they accepted him readily.

It was fun! It was fun to get completely naked and swim without any cloths on. But it was more than just fun; it was freedom. Freedom to escape the heavy atmosphere at home; to get away from Laurie and his fearsome father. Then one day, into all this comradeship, Warren introduced Barry Thomson. Jeff was immediately on guard; it would be a disaster if it became known at home that he'd become friends with the enemy next door. So their first meeting was very tentative; both boys offered polite hellos backed up by a handshake. But Warren was pretty savvy about people so he took Jeff and Barry aside and warned,

'We all know about the stupid squabble between you'se families, but we don't want none of that 'ere. We'se just after a good time . . . that's all; so cool it guys, cool it!'

Surprisingly, it wasn't necessary. Both Jeff and Barry were quiet lads and they became friends and then . . . good friends. Soon Barry became 'Bazza'. Jeff would tell Barry about goings on in the Cree household that gave Barry some ammunition in his regular fights with Laurie.

Because Warren was so popular with girls, he and Jeff would team up and they'd go on foursome dates to drive-in, parties, and such shindigs. To his delight, Jeff found that women were attracted to him and he began to enjoy the pleasures of female company. He lost his shyness but deep, deep down he retained a degree of self-doubt. Because he hadn't known love as a child he didn't know how to handle this very complex area. Somewhere, along the way, he'd lost the ability to say to anyone . . . 'I love you'.

But nothing lasts forever. Warren and his family moved interstate; Barry became more involved with playing footy and pursuing his teaching career and the Cree's moved from Frankston to Waterford, a country town in Victoria's Gippsland region.

Jeffry was never given a good reason for the move; that is, one that he could accept. Apparently, 'Il Capo' Cree decided he wanted to branch out on his own and start an electrical business. He selected Waterford, because the town offered good prospects for a man starting out by himself. Well, that was the official line. Later on Jeffry found out that Papa Cree had been fired for bludgeoning a fellow worker over some trite incident. When you don't have good references you have no choice but to go it alone.

Not being a good student he decided not to enroll in the local Secondary College. His love of things mechanical impelled Jeffry to take up an apprentiship with a local car service provider. He was good; he was well liked; he was always ready to work overtime and was rewarded with a respectable wage.

Laurie Cree found a nice country girl called Betty and, after a short time, they got married. By some irony of fate, Jeffry developed into a stud both in looks and physique and had no trouble-finding partners; he was probably the most eligible bachelor in town. He began squiring a local girl called Cynthia and, to all the gossips, they looked a lovely pair. The first time he penetrated Cindy he felt euphoric and functioned so successfully that Cynthia had a very loud and prolonged orgasm. He suddenly conceded that he was in love; so they got married!

They honeymooned on Queensland's Barrier Reef and he delighted in exploring Cindy's body, building up to urgent penetration, which then led to impressive orgasms. There was no doubt that he and Cindy were good in bed and by the time they returned home they were as close as any couple could be. He was happy; life was good – as long as he didn't associate with Bert and Laurie Cree. Then a dark cloud appeared on the horizon; Laurie became a cop and eventually the Senior Sergeant of local police. Always a mongrel, Laurie became unbearable and was universally hated by all.

As years passed Bert Cree began to drink himself into brutal aggressiveness; Irene copped most of it and if he didn't have his son running the cops, Bert would have been jailed. He eventually died and no one mourned his passing. Irene suffered Dementia and had to be consigned to a nursing home; Jeffry and Cynthia were her only regular visitors. Starting a family was not a pressing imperative, as both he and Cindy wanted to enjoy their early-married years free of any encumbrances. Betty, Laurie's wife had produced two boys and the question was always asked on their infrequent family gatherings as to when they would start a family. The answer was always 'soon'.

And Jeffry did enjoy the early years of his marriage to Cindy. But no children came from the marriage. Slowly doubts began to arise in Jeffry that he and he alone, was somehow responsible for the lack of progeny. Over time, the doubts morphed into a lingering dread; he simply couldn't find the courage to do something about it. Then one day he knew he couldn't put it off any longer; summoning all his nerve and, without Cindy's knowledge, he went to his local GP. The result came back that he had a very low sperm count ( _oligospermia)_ ; it was extremely unlikely that he could ever father children.

He was devastated; he was ashamed; he wanted to cry; he took refuge in booze; and he couldn't tell Cindy. No, he wouldn't tell Cindy! Once again the god of all good things had kicked him in the guts. Jeff sank into a deep pit of despair. From being happy and looking forward to life as a family man, he now faced a future as barren as the fruit of his loins.

The marriage of course started to slide; he started seeking his own company and when he was alone, tears of remorse came readily. Should he say something to Cindy? That would be the decent thing to do, but Jeff was too far down the spiral of depression to be able to face Cindy.

He continued self-medication and became a maudlin drunk at the local RSL club. His sex life with Cindy slowly ebbed into nothing; his friends started to avoid him; his work began to suffer; so much so that his boss warned him to fix himself up . . . or else! He was staring down a long dark tunnel without any light at the end.

And it all came to a head one sunny afternoon at a BBQ organized by Laurie for his staff. Cynthia, fueled by an abundance of alcohol, started flirting with a rookie cop named Jimmy; they whispered endearments to each other; they laughed; they touched and stroked. They completely ignored Jeffry.

He endured it all until he couldn't stand any more. Suddenly, he started crying – inconsolable crying, then sobbing; deep racking sobs and then abruptly he slammed his fist on a table and started shouting (still sobbing), NO! . . . NO! . . . NO! Everyone was aghast; they scattered and watched as Jeffry collapsed. Cindy, suddenly sober, and sensing something serious had happened, called an ambulance, which rushed him to hospital.

Laurie apologized to his guests and labeled his cousin as a 'weak little prick' . . . and 'good riddance'.

In the hospital Jeff lapsed into a catatonic trance and he was quickly consigned into the care of a psychiatrist. He was transferred to a mental institution and for several weeks underwent evaluation and observation. His early childhood was discussed, as was his continual fear of Bert Cree. The memory of his dog 'Buddy' reduced Jeff to again to tears. As there were no physical impediments to Jeff functioning, he was released from hospital, back to Cindy and to his old life, worse than before.

Nothing had changed, except that his self-esteem had been shattered. It was like putting a cork on a volcano.

### Chapter Two

Barry stared morosely at the coffee shop's menu card, whilst he waited for Constable Meadows to join him. The premises looked very clean, brightened by indigenous paintings and craft. He enjoyed aboriginal art, but found the prices too high; maybe in this part of Victoria he could pick up some paintings at a reasonable price. He responded to the waitress, saying that he was waiting for someone, and then spent the time reflecting on his encounter with Laurie Cree.

Laurie Cree – boy that brought back some unpleasant memories. And now Cree still holds a grudge, even after all this time. It's about time I found why; enough is enough. I remember the fights he and I had after school; and then he and some of his brain-dead cronies would lay in wait for me as I was going to the local shop. My family would never socialize or just talk to the Crees, nor would they to us. The only friendship I ever had was with Cree's young brother, Jeff.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Not knowing what caused the fall out is bloody frustrating. Reminds me of that famous Yankee feud – the Hatfields and McCoys!

Just then Constable Meadows appeared so he put his musings aside. Looking at her more closely Barry noticed that there was a firmness about her face; but overall she was quite pretty.

'Um . . . thanks for meeting with me Constable. I hope you're not going to be crabby. Since I arrived yesterday, I've had to deal with negative outbursts from people I hardly know; and others who want to dredge up the past.'

'Firstly, please call me Gloria. I'd like to think we could become friends. I only arrived in town about twelve months ago, and I'm still trying to break through the barrier that townspeople have to strangers.'

They stopped talking while a waitress appeared and took their order. Both opted for long black coffees.

'Tell me about you,' Barry asked. 'How did you end up in this town?'

'Well I didn't volunteer; I was just selected to spread, I guess, female representation into country towns. I a way, I reckoned it'd be a good career move; y'know, being a bigger fish in a smaller pond. And before you start thinking . . . no, I'm not a lesbian ( _Barry smiled)_. The boys seem to think that because ya don't fall for their masculine charms and spread your legs, it's because you're a lesso. Believe me Barry, I don't reckon their collective IQ would pass 100.'

'Gloria ( _laughing_ ) you're too pretty to be a lesbian. It's no wonder the guys are attracted to you ( _Pause_ ), ummm . . . How d'ya get on with Cree?'

'I don't! Besides being a misogynist, he's got a very cruel streak in him; he's a pig! I don't know what makes him tick and neither do I want to! And then her brow furrowed as a thought hit her. You know Barry . . . can call you by your first name? . . . ( _Barry nodded_ ) being an outsider coming in fresh has had some advantage.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, it took some time, but slowly I sensed an underlying tension amongst the townspeople. Nothing you could identify, but real just the same. At first I thought it was my imagination, but the longer I'm here I know something's not right. Call it a sixth sense . . .'

'Or woman's intuition?' Barry teased.

'Yes . . . or woman's intuition; call it an instinct. Anyway, once you get to know the place and our citizens, I'd be interested in your reaction.'

This last intrigued Barry; his own image of a country town was a place of boring idleness; the image that drove him to consider moving from the big city. He leaned forward to show he was interested, but without invading Gloria's space. She, on the other hand appeared defensive and even looked around her to ensure that no one was within hearing.

'Why do you say that? I mean, there's always a little mischief everywhere, particularly when there are humans involved. I sense you're holding something back.'

'Of course I am. As a copper, I have to be discreet until I have proof of any crime. Surely you understand that?'

'Ok, Ok. I get the picture, I understand. I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to pressure you. Sorry.'

There was silence as the waitress delivered their coffee. The smell was delicious, but taking a sip Barry found the coffee was too hot. Opposite him, Gloria stirred her coffee with a thoughtful look on her face. Then,

'Look, maybe you can be some help, particularly 'cause you're a teacher.' Looking at Barry she continued,

'We have some elegant brothels in town; the most popular is called 'Francesca's. But I hear rumors that the indigenous kids – boys and girls – are selling favors for money. Most often the parents are involved, because they need the money to buy booze and drugs. And it may not just be aboriginal kids; there could be white children also. It's frustrating; all I get is rumors, whispers if you like, but nothing substantial to open an enquiry.'

'That's sick; really sick! Parents pimping off their kids. That's child abuse; plain straight out child abuse. I don't care if they're black or white, rich or poor; taking money for sexual favors and then handing it over to adults is wrong! Very wrong! It's still child abuse; are we talking about pedophilia here?''

'Wish I knew. My difficulty is that the kids are either adolescent or approaching teen-age. Nobody's talking, so I've got no leads. It's frustrating; the kids won't talk because they know they're helping out their parents and for the same reason the parents just clam up.'

Barry took a sip of his now cooled coffee and expressed his appreciation. After taking a sip of her well-stirred coffee, Gloria continued,

'As a teacher, you'll get to be associated with most of the kids in town – particularly the boys – either at school or playing sport. If you could keep a watch out for any unusual behavior; moodiness, hostility and aggression, let me know.'

'No problem; but shouldn't that info go first to Cree as he's in charge? Have you ever talked about your suspicions with him? What about the other coppers; don't they also share your concerns?'

'Cree is an arrogant, stupid, dickhead. Because I'm a female cop, he just ignores me; and the others simply follow his lead. Don't ask me why, but I sense the problem is escalating; soon someone's gonna get hurt.'

'Yeah, I think I get the picture . . . particularly if the parents are involved. More booze and drugs means more money is needed to finance the habit; the more the need, the more there's danger of something bad happening. It's depressing. If it's any consolation, I know the signs of drug abuse; you wouldn't believe the number of senior footballers who take drugs regularly.'

Gloria decided to not pursue that matter any further because Barry's voice carried a lot of pain. Instead she switched direction,

'Give me a boot up the arse if I'm getting too personal, but I sense that you and Sergeant Cree don't have a pleasant past. Am I out of line?'

'No . . . not at all. I don't mind. Actually, I was muddling over that same problem waiting for you.' Barry inclined his head and stared at the far wall whilst he marshaled his thoughts.

It may be good to share the problem with Gloria; sometimes an outsider can be more objective. Maybe it'd help if I talked about the problem. But where do I start? Where did it all start . . . all those years ago?

'My coffee's dry. How's yours? Do you have time for another cup?'

'Yes to both. I told Cree that I was taking some personal time. He didn't mind; in fact, I'm sure he's glad to be rid of me for a while.'

Barry settled back and played with his now empty cup.

'Our families were neighbors, and as long as I can remember we were enemies. It was always the Crees against the Thomsons. My parents hated the Crees and vice versa. And I just don't know why. The two fathers didn't work at the same workplace or even in the same industry. My Dad was a plumber and the elder Cree was an electrician. The only circumstance I know that would cause such deep enmity was sexual betrayal. Someone fucked someone else's wife or husband.'

Barry paused as new coffees arrived and the empty cups taken away. He didn't take a sip straight away as the coffee was steaming. Gloria commenced using a spoon to stir hers, but she was leaning forward obviously intrigued with Barry's story. Just then the waitress came back and interrupted the conversation.

'I'm sorry for butting in, but aren't you Barry Thomson the footballer?'

When Barry smiled yes, she continued,

'Geeze, I thought you were. I mean you just look like in the photos I've seen of you. Both my hubby and eldest son are Saints supporters. My hubby reckons you're the best mid-fielder the Saints have had for a long time. We're sorry to see you retire. Geeze, Barry Thomson in person. Could I get an autograph? My son would be thrilled.'

'Not a problem. I'd love to; how about I autograph a footy for your son. What's his name?'

'Peter. Peter Ballard. He'll be over the moon; thank you, really . . . thank you.'

'Ok, I've got some spare footy's at home. You on tomorrow?'

'Yep.'

'Ok; I'll drop it in after noon tomorrow. My pleasure.'

'I can't tell you how much I appreciate you doing this. Really. If there's anything I can do for you, just ask. My name's Robyn. Robyn Ballard. Thanks again.' And departed smiling. Barry returned his attention back to Gloria and after a pause said,

'Where was I? I've lost my train of thought,' but before answering, Gloria said,

'Barry, ( _enthusiastically_ ) you've just made a real friend. A person like her will spread the word that you're a real decent bloke. When the gossip circulates, it'll be a smack in the face to Cree. You've just done yourself a big, big favor.'

'Well, I didn't do it to gain 'brownie' points. I like doing nice things for people. Now where was I?'

'You were reflecting on how and where this feud started. You surmised that it may have been marriage infidelity.'

'Yes, but I don't know for sure. It was a closed subject. Several times I tried to find out why; when I asked my mother she'd say 'go ask your father' and when I asked my father I'd get the same in reverse. It was frustrating; particularly when Cree and I started to fight. Physically I mean . . . usually after school. All the other kids knew about the feud and reveled in the fighting. Being a lot bigger, Cree usually won and if anything this increased the hostility between the two families. A couple of times I beat him, but over-all I came off the looser.'

'And ( _sounding concerned_ ) through all this no one told you what the feud was about? That would've been awful! You were under constant threat all your growing years. That's awful! Bloody awful. It's a wonder you didn't end up a basket case; I know I would.' Barry simply nodded.

'And add to that my father tried to kill himself – twice. One time I had to bash the laundry door down because he was trying to gas himself. I kept asking myself over and over, what could be so bad that you'd want to top yerself.'

Barry fell silent; obviously dealing with some painful memories. Gloria let the silence extend, out of respect for Barry's feelings. Eventually,

'Did you and the sergeant talk about this past hostility when you were together in his office? I mean, it's not rational for two adults to maintain a quarrel for so long; particularly when no one knows what it's about. I've never heard of something so stupid. . .' Barry went to interrupt but Gloria silenced him with,

'. . . and to cap it all, I take it that both sets of parents are either now very old or very dead! ( _Barry nodded)_ , you've got to find out more so you can deal with the problem. It's been festering on your sub-conscious for a long time now. You need to deal with it and make a new start.'

'Hey, I wanted to . . . discuss the bad blood that is; I became very friendly with his younger brother Jeff, and I sensed that Jeff knew more than he'd tell me. Jeff's a simple honest person, unlike the whole Cree family, and I suspect he was terrified of his elder brother. I must make an effort to find Jeff and ask for his help.'

'Why would Jeff know about the rift; I mean more than was told to you?'

'He was very close to his mother . . . very close. That's why he was on the outer with Cree and his dad Bert. I suspect there's another story there. But Jeff will know something more, at least. Shouldn't be too hard to locate him; if nothing else it'd be a starting point and as you point out this shit's got to end.'

At that, a big smile spread all over Gloria's face and she stared at Barry with an impish look in her eyes.

'Gloria what's going on; you look like a cat that's just overturned a full jar of cream. Tell me.'

'Jeff's here . . . lives just out of town.'

This stunned Barry. He imagined that Jeff wouldn't want to live anywhere near his big brother; but to learn that he lived close by staggered him.

'He's here . . . in town? Right here? Tell me where he lives, or works so I can talk to him. Tell me, what does he look like? He'd be what . . . late twenties or early thirties.'

'He's grown very good looking, if he wasn't married he be the town's most eligible bachelor. In fact if he hadn't married I'd . . .' Gloria broke off with sudden embarrassment and then hurriedly continued,

'Where Laurie has the face of a thug, Jeff has the face of an angel. He got married to a girl called Cindy who he met after the family . . . the Cree family, moved into town. Apparently his father – you called him Bert – opened up an Electrical business, and did quite well for a while . . . that was before he started boozing. The father died about five years back and I think the mothers in a retirement home.'

Barry lapsed into silence as he digested the news.

"Look, I know Jeff's usually at the RSL club most nights. How about meeting me there around, say, six thirty, and I'll introduce you both. You've got to start somewhere to resolve this stupid vendetta.

###

'. . . My brother says that I can only give you a blowjob? I can blow you for twenty dollars. If you want a fuck, I'm too small, but you can do my sister for fifty dollars. You just tell me the time and place and I'll make sure she's there; but I wants the money first mister. My brother said you'd be OK; are you OK?'

'Hey, I'm randy as hell. Here's twenty; give me a good blowjob and maybe I'll give you ten more, just for yourself.'

The girl undid the fly and loosened the man's belt, slipping down his jeans in one smooth motion. The man's penis sprang into view.

'Geeze, that's a big fella! You'se certainly look needy. I'll do you good mister, I'se been practicing.'

With that the girl placed her mouth around the penis and began to pleasure him. She stroked the shaft gently making the man moan with pleasure.

Ten minutes later, it was all over; the man popped his penis back into his jeans and zipped up his fly. He looked down at the aboriginal girl who had just serviced him. She was just a kid, perhaps about fourteen; and that's what turned him on. Such a beautiful child.

'Is your sister as beautiful as you? Will she let me have sex without a condom?'

'We'se needs the money; I'll ask me brother and let you know. He'll contact you'se.

Geez, the kid sounded like a professional and she was, what, only fourteen, maybe fifteen years old.

'If your brother agrees, I'll meet you here tomorrow at the same time. Here's another ten to show my appreciation; maybe tomorrow you can do me again.'

###

The local RSL club in every country town becomes the center for social gatherings and a 'Happy Hour' is usually in full swing between six and seven o'clock in the evening. After signing in as a visitor, Barry went looking for Gloria and spotted her in a group with some of the young cops he'd met this morning.

Gloria beckoned him over, only to find out - guess what - it was his turn to buy a round of drinks. The conversation returned to the drawn grand finale, the subject of this morning's interrupted banter.

Barry was enjoying himself and the company, when Gloria nudged him and said,

'There's Jeff Cree just coming in. He's by himself . . . again.'

Following her signal, Barry looked to see a very fit youngish man come strolling into the club. When Gloria mentioned he was good-looking, she did him an injustice. Jeffrey Cree had grown into a very pleasant looking person. He had soft features with a full head of dark brown hair; his eyes were deep brown, almost black and seemed to match the color of his hair. And he seemed to be perpetually smiling. Recognizing Jeff, one of the cops called out and invited him to join the group. When he came and stood close, Barry could see the child that he had known. Barry was introduced as a retired footballer and for a minute Jeff did not recognize him. But after several moments the light dawned and Jeff smiled,

'Not the Barry Thomson who used to live next door to us in Frankston, when we were kids?'

'The same.'

"Wow! I should've twigged. I'm sorry for not recognizing you straight away Barry; you must think I'm a dickhead. We all knew the Barry Thomson from St. Kilda was coming, but I didn't associate that with the Barry Thomson I knew as a youngster. Wow!'

Jeff stared at Barry with that fixed smile, and went to say something, but Barry was drawn back into the conversation about footy. However, Barry couldn't contain his curiosity for too long, so he said to Jeff,

'Can we go somewhere private to catch up?' When Jeff nodded ok, _(a little reluctantly)_ . . . Barry said to the group,

'Guys, Jeff, and I haven't seen each other for a long time, so we're gonna move off to catch up?' Gloria nodded encouragingly.

They drifted away and found an unoccupied table. Jeff assigned himself the task of refreshing their drinks, but when he returned there was an awkward silence. Jeff was no longer smiling and seemed uncomfortable. No one knew how to start the conversation. Eventually,

'Great to see you, Jeff. I must admit I was surprised when Gloria told me you were living here. You're no longer the geeky kid next door.'

Geez that sounded lame, but he's obviously letting me open the batting.

'Yeah . . . it's good to see you Barry. I knew a new teacher was coming but you . . . well . . . I'm surprised.' To Barry, there was no warmth in Jeff's voice; he seemed different to the man who had joined the cop group earlier.

'Ummm . . . to cut a long story short, I wanted to get away from Melbourne for personal reasons, and when this job was advertised I jumped at it.'

Silence. Jeff was staring morosely at his glass. He seemed depressed.

( _In exasperation)_ 'What do you do Jeff? How do you make a quid? I gather you're a married man now.'

Taking a deep breath, Jeff hesitated before replying,

'I'm a lowly mechanic, and yes I have a wife, but no kids. Wife's name is Cindy; we've been married five years.'

Silence. Again, Jeff avoided any eye contact and seemed fixated on his drink coaster.

_Exasperated again._ 'Hey, don't put yourself down like that; being a mechanic, or for that matter working any trade, is an honorable profession. Trade skills come in handy even outside your working surroundings; you never lose those skills and they're often put to good use.' _Shit, that sounded lame_

'Ummm . . . I guess. I guess you're right. Sometimes Cindy puts me down; she wants something better than a mechanic for a husband.'

'Jeff, it's not what Cindy wants; it's what you want. After all it's your life, isn't it?'

( _Almost a sigh_ ) Yeah . . . I suppose. I wish it was that simple.'

Barry was getting frustrated by Jeff's attitude; this wasn't the way he'd imagined meeting Jeff after all these years.

Something is really bugging him. It's almost as if he resents talking to me.

And then Jeff crossed his arms and taking another deep breath, looked at Barry directly; his eyes seemed to glisten,

'Barry, a lot has happened in my life since I last saw you. I ( _sigh_ ) don't know; here you are a well-known footy player with a successful career behind you and now the challenge of being a successful teacher You're on top of the world, whereas I . . . whereas I'm just a failure! My wife hates me; she doesn't have any respect for me. I've got no friends; the cops only associate with me because of me brother. What's it like to be popular and successful, Barry? I bet you can have any woman you set yer sights on!'

Barry was caught off-balance by Jeff's outburst and looking into Jeff's eyes detected . . . anguish?

_What on earth's going on? There's an inner conflict raging within Jeff; No it's more like self-pity. He's ashamed of himself. What the bloody hell has happened to Jeff to make him like this_?

Barry let the silence grow whilst he considered how to respond. It was clear that Jeff was in emotional turmoil.

'Jeff,' he ventured slowly. 'After not seeing each other for nearly twenty years, I would've thought we'd be sharing anecdotes; catching up on what's happened to us over the past. I mean, in that time we've both experienced many things; some good, some not so good. Instead, I sense a degree of hostility against me and what I've done with my life. Frankly, I don't understand.'

Taking a moment to digest what Barry had said, Jeff put down his half drunken beer and almost to himself mumbled,

'Shit . . . there I go again. I'm a loser. I've made you uncomfortable and angry. Sorry Barry . . . I'm just a loser.'

Then he got up from the table and walked out of the club, leaving Barry bewildered. After a moment, Barry rejoined the group around the bar. It was obvious that they had witnessed Jeff's departure because one of the cops said,

'You've just been exposed to gloomy Jeff Cree haven't you? We've all had the same experience . . . several nodded their heads . . . but don't let it throw you; that's just Jeffry being Jeffry. Some times he's great company, other times . . .?'

Someone else ventured, 'It all depends whether Cindy gives him a hard time or not.'

And another, 'don't forget his bastard brother, our own darlin' Sergeant Cree. He comes down hard on poor Jeff. Between his wife and his brother, he'll end up a basket case.'

Just then, a youngster called Jimmy piped up and said out loud what they all were thinking,

'Perhaps he knows what that slut of a wife is doing behind his back.' There was a general murmur of agreement when Gloria spoke up,

'Hey, that's not fair; you don't know what his life's been like. I mean having a brother like our own darling Sergeant Cree and a father like the late detested. . . .' but an elder cop interrupted with,

'For God's sake Gloria, it's common knowledge. She'll sleep with anyone; even a blackfella if she has a mind to it.'

_Poor Jeff_ , thought Barry, _the poor bastard_.

###

It took Barry a few days to really put faces to names with the college faculty. Brother Dominic had introduced him, but his memory for names was not good. Eventually in the common room Barry came to know people better. Besides a Miss Jenkins who taught French, Barry was the only other male who was not a Brother. After a time he was able to understand the interplay of personalities and relationships.

Towering above everyone was Brother Michael and he had acolytes in Brother Peter who taught History and Brother Simon who taught English. The latter was a short pudgy man who always seemed to be unkempt. He deferred to Brother Michael in everything, so much so that he was laughed at behind his back. And he smelt, a mixture of halitosis and stale wine.

One morning Bro.Simon caught Barry as he was entering his classroom; he wasn't happy.

'I just want you to know that I'm totally against lay teachers in the college and particularly those who profess to be agnostic. How can you teach at a Catholic college and not believe in Jesus Christ? It's very wrong and I worry what you will teach to these vulnerable children. It is up to us teachers to steer these young minds in the direction that Holy Mother Church demands. Your football reputation also concerns me; obviously the children will look up to you and hang on every word you say. ( _Barry went to interrupt_ )

( _Raising his voice_ ) NO! Don't interrupt; I haven't finished yet. Brother Mike is our football coach and I demand you respect that. We can't have two coaches; it would only confuse the boys and undermine Bro. Mike who is doing a wonderful job with the team. He deserves yours and our complete support.'

Barry's mind was in turmoil; was Bro.Simon acting as a mouthpiece for the whole faculty, or was this simply personal?

Whats or who's behind this? I don't believe this smelly little cretin has the balls to act alone. He's a gutless little shit hiding his cowardice behind clerical garb.

'Have you finished . . . have you? I take exception to you bailing me up like this and using your mouth to empty what little brain you have. No . . . Shut up! I find it interesting that bigots like you are blind to reality. You state . . . err, if I can recollect . . . you mentioned ummm . . . steering vulnerable children in the direction that Mother Church demands . . . yes, I believe you used those words and particularly the word demands. That's brainwashing, pure and simple brainwashing. I've always believed that children should not be indoctrinated in their formative years, full stop! ( _Bro.Simon gasped_ ) They should be given the chance to make a decision later on when they are more able to ascertain the facts and decide for themselves . . . without any outside manipulation'. Barry paused and glared at Bro.Simon.

'As to my impact on the boys, you can be assured that I won't undermine anything that Bro. Mike does. Of course, if any lad asks me for guidance on any aspect of footy, I'll definitely give any advice I believe appropriate. Do I make myself clear?' Bro.Simon glared at Barry, seemingly speechless. Barry was mad as hell and he threw all caution to the winds.

'You know, I've always considered religious people somewhat juvenile. They haven't grow up and left the protective embrace of a parent. Instead they need god to protect them; to comfort them; to shield them from bad times; to make them feel secure and to confess their misdeeds. Mature people don't need this crutch and just go about their lives making the best of the good times and the not-so-good times . . . you copy!'

Bro.Simon was shocked; this wasn't going the way he'd scripted. Somehow he'd lost the advantage. Not only had he been personally insulted but Mother Church had been attacked; and he couldn't think of any repost to regain the initiative. But Barry had not finished with him yet.

'And another thing; what about this so-called celibacy. Practicing celibacy is unnatural; it's against all the laws of nature. I repeat it's unnatural; don't fuck'n lie to me. I bet you have feelings of lust just like all we humans do. You just don't practice satisfying your lust. At least that's what you say; I reckon you beat off senselessly to relieve the pressure. And you know what; if you do, you're a better man for doing it. I'm all for wanking and prostitution; it stops perverts going out and molesting children or raping women.'

For a long moment, the two men just glared at each other until Bro.Simon, stunned, bewildered, shaken and a little frightened, puffed himself up with righteous indignation, and stormed off.

'Well, that went well,' sighed Barry. But inwardly,

Shit, shit, shit! I went too far. Shit why did I have to sledge him like that? I'm not playing footy now, there's no need to be aggressive. I'll probably be asked to leave. Shit! You always do it don't you, dick head? You go too far, you don't k now when to quit; I've got to lean to control my temper. Well the milk's been spilt; I wonder who's gunna mop up my mess?

###

Barry watched this kid called Billy Yorta swerve past his opponent catching him off balance, then take four long strides, a bounce and booted the footy straight between the uprights. It was done with such perfect precision and movement, that the watcher was left a little dazzled. The kid was a genuine talent. Then the same kid took a high mark by effortlessly soaring up above the pack to bring the footy down.

Barry turned to Bro. Michael and remarked,

'That kids a natural. Has he had any coaching or special attention?'

'Not that I know of. These abbo kids don't really fit in with the rest of the boys; they seem to go their own way and every time I've tried to talk to them they seem a bit surly. They can't even look you in the eye. What they need is a good kick up the arse.'

_What they need_ , (Barry thought), _is someone to be friendly and show an interest in their abilities; not a racial, bigoted shit face like you. I wonder if you even know their names. And it's a sign of disrespect for an aboriginal kid to look you in the eye. It's their custom._

'What's the tall kid's name; the one that kicked that last goal?'

'Billy something. I can't get my tongue around their names. Give me a good Anglo-Saxon name anytime.'

'Well, do you mind if I have a talk to him after practice?'

'No, I don't mind; but don't be too disappointed when they don't respond.'

After practice, Barry culled Billy Yorta from the throng heading for the showers, and asked if he wouldn't mind talking with him. Billy was delighted.

'Hey Billy . . . mind if I call you Billy? Receiving an affirmative nod, Barry continued,

'I'm really impressed by your game. Has anyone coached you?' Following indigenous custom, Billy looked down at the ground and replied,

'Nah . . . just picked it up from watching the telly and kicking the footy around wid some udder kids. Us blackfellas don't get asked to play wid the udder kids . . . 'cause we'se black.'

'Well, how about I give you some of my experiences and if you want to, I'll get you to play in the local under eighteen comp. How's that sound?'

'Really! ( _The smile was like sunshine_ ) Cool, that's real cool mister Bazz. But what about Brudder Michael? He don't like us blackfellas.'

'Let me handle Brother Mike. You just be here after school and I'll teach you how to bend the rules, so you can get the best out of your game. Now to begin, you're holding the footy wrong when you kick . . .'

###

In Brother Michael's class, Billy had to bear unwarranted criticism about his relationship with Barry. At every opportunity Bro. Mike singled Billy out for criticism or just to make him look bad. Often, he seemed to suggest that there was an unhealthy relationship between Billy and Barry. Callously, he used every opportunity to verbally abuse both Barry and Billy.

The whole school knew about it; but Brother Mike was feared by the other brothers and they just kept silent.

By now Billy trusted Barry so completely, that he was able to discuss the problem with him. Barry counseled Billy to cool it, as Brother Mike was not inflicting any physical harm on Billy, even though he was causing emotional distress. Barry rightly assessed that it would appear churlish to confront Brother Mike with a complaint, if it couldn't be substantiated. But, if Brother Mike continued, then Barry would have to bring the matter before the Headmaster. However Billy was not as mature as Barry and eventually erupted.

Brother Mike was teaching geography, white man's geography, and asked Billy where the Murray River began.

'Don't give a shit!' Billy retorted. 'Who gives a shit where the fucking river starts? I just know it passes through the land of my people, the Yorta-Yorta people, and we used to fish from it for food until it was stuffed up by you white mongrels.'

Silence crashed down on the class as everyone looked to see how Brother Mike would respond to Billy's outburst. Brother Mike looked stunned; no one had ever spoken back to him like that. Shock gave way to fury; his face went purple as his blood pressure climbed dangerously high.

'How dare you! How dare you Yorta . . .'

'My names' Billy! Billy Yorta . . .'

'. . . DON'T YOU DARE INTERRUPT ME! Just who do you think you are, talking like that, not just to your teacher, but to a man of god?' Into the silence he continued,

'This is because that miserable show-off Thomson has allowed you too much leeway. Because of all the favoritism he's given you, you think you can insult your teacher and get away with it. Well, I'll show you just . . .'

'Why don't you show me? Why don't you whip out your tiny cock and show me. It's probably too small for my sister to give you a good time with a head job!'

The atmosphere in the class changed from fear to swelling laughter; then someone started to clap until the whole class was applauding Billy. Brother Mike went from red to white-hot fury. Not only that he was put down by this indigenous boy, but the whole class obviously held him in contempt.

Only now Brother Mike reacted. White faced he grabbed the boy by his ear lobe, and frog marched him down to the Headmasters office, where an infuriated Brother Mike reported the offense. Brother Dominic listened in disbelief and said,

'I won't have that language in my school. It's disgusting; if what Brother Mike says is true, you're in very serious trouble Mr. Yorta. The least I can do is suspend you. If you apologize to Brother Mike I won't expel you. I'm ready to listen to your apology.'

'No way! No fuck'n way! Why me apologize to him. Mr. Barry has been kindness to me and me mates; where this bastard has said really bad sex t'ings about Mr. Barry and me. No way!'

Br. Dominic took a long time in replying which increased the prevailing hostility. Taking a deep breath he said,

'You leave me no choice Mr. Yorta, but to . . . no ( _with a sigh_ ) no, I won't expel you at this time. You're suspended for one month from to-day. When you return, you'll come see me before starting classes. Understood?'

T'anks sir, but what you gonna do 'bout dis reptile here?'

'None of your concern. Now please leave. No, Brother Michael you stay, I want to have a word.'

When Billy left, the headmaster addressed Brother Mike sternly.

'I've heard that you're vilifying our indigenous boys because they won't look you in the face. Don't you understand that an indigenous person won't look someone in the eye, not out of disrespect but respect? You're responsible for teaching these kids and yet you haven't taken the time to explore their culture. They . . .'

' _(interrupting_ ) . . . but we have school rules that must be obeyed; we can't run the college on abbo culture principles.'

'Please don't interrupt me . . . they are different yes, but each boy is different and must be treated with respect. And I've been aware for some time of your ambiance towards Barry Thomson, partly out of jealousy for his football exploits. I'm right aren't I?'

There was a period of silence before Bro. Dominic continued,

'Be careful Brother Mike, be very careful; watch your language. From what I hear you seem to be passing judgment on your students, or indeed anyone who does not share your views. Some people actually fear you and as Headmaster I can't allow this to continue. Fear in any form is not conducive to good teaching. Fear closes minds to the learning process and thus we gain nothing in such an environment.'

There was silence as Bro. Dominic paused to collect his thoughts

'You are a very imposing man and I know a good teacher. But by allowing your personal prejudices to dominate relationships with other people, you're sailing a very dangerous course. I hope you'll give some thought to this conversation . . . I would hate to lose you.'

Why is it I dislike Brother Mike so. He annoys me with his high moral stance, expecting everyone else to conform to his way – or else. He's only a young man yet his attitude is one that you would expect from a much older person. He's a bigot and not a very pleasant individual to have around. He may be a good teacher but I fear he's not cutout for teaching.

###

Billy stormed out of the Headmasters office and headed for the oval with one objective in mind – revenge; revenge on Brother Mike. On the footy field he felt safe and secure because he knew he excelled over the other guys – both black and white. But as the anger subsided, it was replaced by frustration.

Been' a blackfella hain't no good. Dey won't leave me alone. I'll always be picked on just 'cause of me skin. Hain't my fault, it's wot ise born wid. Can't do nutting 'bout that heh! But geez, if Mr. Barry stops coaching me, it'll be bad, very bad; I like's him real good yeah, real good. He's cool; not like d'ose udder perv's wid dere stoopid collars; deyz all bullshit, all churchy up front, but dey still lust after young girls to get dere rocks off.

Lost in his misery, Billy didn't hear Barry until,

'Hey, what's the matter champ? You look miserable. What's up?'

And Billy did look miserable; he was propped up against the goal post with his legs drawn up and his head resting on his chin. Barry could see that tears were not far away, and at the sound of Barry's voice, Billy let go. He started to sob. All the pent up defense he'd stored up crumbled, and he lost it . . . really lost it. Barry was wise enough to let the boy sob it out; he sat beside Billy and put his arm around the boy's shoulders to comfort him. Eventually the sobbing subsided.

'Dey's all hippo's Mr. Bazz. Dey gives me the shits. All dey do is come down on me and all der udder black kids.'

They sat side by side, sharing each other's personal space, then at Barry's insistence Billy blurted out what had happened. It was a dilemma for Barry; whilst he abhorred Brother Mike's language and attitude, he had to support a fellow teacher in preserving discipline.

'Billy, I reckon you got off easy. You can't talk to a teacher like that; you've got to respect . . . no respects the wrong word – accept, that's a better word. You've got to accept that schoolteachers do have a responsibility to maintain discipline; otherwise nothing can be accomplished. No lessons given and no learning by students.'

'I knows that. I'se not dumb ( _sob_ ); just 'cause I'se black don't mean I'se ( _sob_ ) stoopid. But dey's still hippo's.

'I didn't say you were stupid. You're not stupid; in fact I reckon you're very intelligent. I can see that by your school grades. What's been happening at home? Anything you want to tell me? You know I regard you as a close mate, so anything you tell me is just between you and me.'

Encouraged by the relaxed intimacy, Billy gladly started to talk about his distress.

'Um . . . same old, same old. Me dad's always pissed and broke; takes it out on me mum and us kids too. I got a brudder and kid sister and life hain't too good. I worries 'bout me kid sister; she's only eight and no one to tell her 'bout sex stuff. Me brudder, he's only ten, but comin' on to be hard inside.'

'What about the members of your extended family . . . your uncles and aunts, and there must be someone in your people who can help with growing up issues?'

'Nah, not really; all our peoples keep to themselves. It's our culture; you whites know dip shit about us abbos.' Billy moved closer, Barry interrupted suddenly,

'Billy, you mentioned the word 'hippos'. What's a hippopotamus got to do with anything? I don't understand.'

'Ahhh no Mr. Bazz, not der animal, I means the churchies with dere funny white collars and black dresses. We call dem 'hippos' 'cause deyz all bull shit.'

'You mean - hypocrites? People who talk one way but do another?

'Yeh, yeah, dats it; those hippocr . . .; ummm, what you said.'

'How are they being hypocritical? I don't understand.'

'Well, dem wots telling us doing sex is bad, but then they pay us for giving dem sex. Dat's where I gets me money for home from. I worries 'bout me kid sister; she's only eight and I heard dat someone's been sniffing round. It not right, s' wrong.'

There it was – Gloria's instinct was right! Billy has just admitted that there was some kind of sex exploitation going on. With offers of money young, sometimes very young, indigenous boys and girls were co-opted for sexual favors in secret locations. This latter was a secret held close by only they who were involved. The need for cash was such that the boys and girls would keep silent so that a reliable flow of cash was guaranteed for their parents.

This was a scandal on a National and Inter-national scale that was to shake the Catholic Church to its very core. These predators, just so long as they could satisfy their lust, had a callous disregard for their victims and the damage souls they created.

'Billy, we have to be very careful here. If what you say is true – and I believe you- we can't accuse anybody without absolute proof.'

'Hey, hold on Mr. Barry, hold on. I don't want see the money stopped, we'se need the cash; my family need the cash, same as der udder kids. We all, needs it! Anyways, you'll never stop it; too many big buggers involved. Jus' let it be; ain't a problem. Problem is If'n you name some of the big buggers, they'll come down heavy on us blacks. For sure, dey would kill us, for sure!'

The intensity of Billy's outburst surprised Barry, the lad was really scared; not just for the loss of income but for being physically hurt . . . even killed.

What's the best way to handle this? I don't know. On one hand, I have a responsibility for the children's welfare; on the other, I can't accuse any one unless I have absolute proof. If there are powerful persons involved, then the kids' lives are definitely at risk. If only I had a better relationship with Cree. All I can do is relate Billy's confession – is that the right word? to Gloria. She'll know best, hopefully.

Out loud, he counseled,

'Billy, I promise I won't say a word of this to anyone unless they have my complete trust. I understand where you're coming from and the danger to you if any accusations are levied. Trust me Billy; you've got to trust me.'

With a brotherly squeeze of Billy's shoulder, he said,

'Off you go now; we'll put off training for today. I reckon you're not that enthusiastic hey? If it's ok, I'll come by and talk to you at home. For the next month, we can train at the local footy ground until your suspension is over. OK?'

He watched as Billy got up and sauntered rather dejectedly away. Just then, his mobile rang, and when he answered . . .,

'Barry . . . it's me, Jeff. Ummm . . . need to talk. Please . . . sorry for being an arsehole, but please, can you meet with me at the Shearers Arms just outside town around six tonight?'

### Chapter Three

Barry, arriving a little after six, had to peer through the gloom to find Jeff who was sitting by himself at a rear table. The Shearers Arms was a country pub catering more for passing trade than for regular patrons; it was ideal if you wanted to have a quiet talk without any unwelcome intrusion. Seeing Jeff's glass nearly empty, Barry offered,

'Looks like my shout, what're ya having?'

'Large Vic bitter . . . with a shot of tequila. Tell the barman same as before.'

'Wow! That's powerful; I assume you're driving, so what about the breath test. Any danger the cops might pull you over?'

'Nah ( _Jeff grinned impishly_ ) . . . who cares, me brothers the senior sergeant; gotta be some benefit to having a cop in the family. You'll be Ok too. They know me round here; just so long as we don't pass out, it'll be cool.'

When Barry returned, Jeff immediately downed the tequila in one gulp, and then put the empty shot glass down with a satisfied grin. Barry studied Jeff's face; the perpetual half grin was there and Jeff's dark brown eyes radiated friendliness. This was a different Jeffry to the surly character at the RSL club.

Silence, as the two young men appraised each other. It was Jeff, who, after taking a sip from his glass, broke the silence,

'I owe you an apology Barry; I was an arsehole at the RSL and shouldn't have dumped my personal problems on you. Been doing some thinking, trying to make some decisions . . . personal decisions about meself, but first I wanted to apologize to you. I've made a mess of me life Bazz; I'm not a very strong person and find it very difficult to overcome adversity. Will you forgive me?'

'Hey, there's nothing to forgive, don't be so heavy on yourself. I was just concerned; you seemed really down and all that concerned me was seeing you so sad. I mean, I got a real pleasure about meeting up again; really Jeff, it's great to meet up again after all these years. How's about us starting all over and pretend we've just met . . . Ok?'

And so for over an hour the two young men re-visited the past, relating good times as well as not so good times. As they got to tell their stories, they began to relax and enjoy each other's company. Jeff listened avidly to Barry's anecdotes about the inner workings of footy clubs; tales that the public would be appalled to learn. When they had exhausted the past, it was time to relate to their current situations.

'Jeff, why does Laurie hate me so much? We've clashed all our lives it seems, but no one can tell me what it's about. I never found out from my own parents, and now they're dead. So is Bert I believe, and your mum's in a nursing home with dementia. I really thought it would end when we grew up, but Laurie really dumped on me the other day. I feel a little frustrated and . . . yeah, a little angry. Also, why are you so different from the rest of the Cree family? I've always been able to talk and be friendly with you . . . why are you so different?'

By this time they had consumed several beers and Barry had followed Jeff's example and with a couple of tequila shots. They were feeling good if not a little pissed. Jeff paused and moodily stared into his beer; his brow was furrowed with thought, as he pondered his reply.

'First, I was adopted by the Cree's. Y'see my mother was sister to Irene Cree, Laurie's mum. Both me Mum and Dad were killed in a car crash when I was very young. I have vivid memories still of my grandma taking me into my bedroom and explaining that my parents would not be coming home – ever. I was too stunned even to cry; I loved my grandma but hated her for telling me this terrible thing. Looking back, I think I resolved never to love anybody again because it hurt too much. Eventually, my aunt Irene adopted me and so I joined the Crees; Aunt Irene, Bert Cree and the siblings Laurie and Veronica.'

'Jesus Jeff that sucks. You never mentioned that before.'

( _Nodding_ ) Funny, but I never did feel part of the Cree family; they were always foreign t'me. Laurie always hated me; you reckon he gave you a hard time . . . shit! He was always on me back about something or other. I felt close to Aunt Irene as she was my mum's sister; t'me she was like, real family.'

'Shit, I'm sorry Jeff, real sorry; to lose both parents like that is a tragedy. I can only commend you for dealing with it.' After a pause Jeff looked directly at Barry and,

'Bazz . . . I wish you hadn't asked me about the so-called feud. I'm sure you're not gonna like what I have to say. It all happened so long ago, this kind of shit should be buried.'

Jeff paused and drank some more beer. Barry leant forward with his elbows on the table, eager to hear what Jeff had to say about the traumatic feud that had literally dominated his young life. Jeff took a deep breath before,

'This is just hearsay, based on stuff that I picked up from my aunt Irene. Seems that she and your Dad had a tryst around the time she married Bert; was it a one-night stand – who knows? Anyway, she fell preggo and there was a question as to whose kid it was, Bert's' or your Dad's. They didn't have paternity testing those days, so that the true parentage of the child was never known. And as time passed, the child's welfare became more important so Bert just accepted the child was his.'

Barry felt a surge of fear course through him, as he said in a disbelieving voice,

'Oh no . . . you're saying that Laurie your cousin, could actually be my half-brother? Shit! Jesus Christ.'

'Yep, my adopted brother Laurie could be your dad's child. Could be Barry, we'll never know the truth. I'm sure Laurie was never told the about it; he just followed his dad's example and hated all the Thomsons. Bert also took it out on my aunt, sometimes physically. I don't know how your mum reacted.'

Barry sat back, dumfounded at Jeff's story. Laurie Cree . . . could be his half-brother. It's unthinkable. Unbelievable! But it somehow makes sense. At least explains why there was so much hostility between the families. But why did the two sets of parents continue to live next door to each other? You'd think, with that kind of history, one of the families would move away. But then, in those days, after the depression and during the Second World War, no one moved around as much as people did to-day. And, of course, living side by side only increased the animosity. Jeff continued,

'It's a real dilemma Bazza, for you I mean. You can't say anything to Laurie 'cause he may become violent. Looking at the whole mess rationally, he's the one who's the victim, but I find it hard to have any sympathy for him. He's such a pig, I'm sure he's Bert Cree's son. I hated that old bastard . . . really hated him.'

Barry sat back but left his hands cradling his glass. Inside, he was all churned up; his thoughts were rampaging.

Shit! Fuck! No wonder there was tension. But it isn't fair that the kids got dragged into the mess. Weren't fair! I almost feel sorry for Laurie. If only I could talk to him like I can talk to Jeff, it'd all be ok. Well, at least better. But I've got more chance of having a hearty-to-heart with Laurie, than flying over the moon. Bloody hell . . . What a mess!

Barry tilted his head forward with a stunned look on his face.

'I'm gob-smacked! Shit! What a mess. You're right, I should feel sorry for Laurie, but he makes it very hard just to like him. He seems to enjoy being an asshole. But at least you've cleared the air, so to speak; I feel better just knowing how this hatred began. I really thank you Jeff. Really thank you!'

'But Bazz is it really important? I mean, who cares? This is our life now; we have our own problems and issues without delving into the past. That feud had nothing to do with you, and I. Nothing! So let's forget it. I'm only concerned about here and now.'

'Well that's true enough,' Barry agreed. 'But I have to live with his hostility, particularly as he's the senior copper. He could make life very difficult for me. What about you . . . and you're wife?'

'Ya mean Cindy? Nah, she keeps out of Laurie's way; thinks he's a Neanderthal. Over the years I've programmed meself to try and ignore him. I suppose I've kept that little tidbit about his parentage tight, only to use if I really have to. I know that's nasty, but call it self-defense if you will. But given the provocation, I won't hesitate.'

And so the evening progressed and they got progressively drunk. There was no possibility of driving in their state, so they called Gloria, who picked them up and arranged for their cars to be driven to the police station.

###

Next morning, Jeff woke with a very bad hangover, and lay in bed collecting his thoughts. He could hear Cynthia in the kitchen banging pots and pans, presumably for his discomfort. He must have smelt bad last night, so she was probably within her rights to be pissed off.

He lay back letting his mind re-create last evening's events.

I had a great time with Bazz . . . it was good to catch up on the past years. I'm glad I told him about Laurie; not knowing why a problem exists must have been rotten. Since aunty Irene confided to me, Bazz is the only person I've talked to about the feud. If it helps Bazza, then I'm glad I told him. Why do I suddenly feel happy? It's a strange feeling, a feeling of contentment. It's like finding something that I'd accepted had been lost to me forever; that I'd despaired of ever having again . . . a real friend. I just wish I didn't feel so happy.

Cynthia broke into his thoughts with,

'Jeff ( _she yelled_ ). . . Jeff get up you lazy sod! Laurie's here and wants a word. C'mon . . . you're gonna be late for work if you don't get ya lazy arse out of bed.'

Uncombed and scruffy, he made his way to the kitchen, where his brother awaited in full police attire. Nodding to his brother, he made himself a cup of very strong black coffee, before he mumbled,

'Morning big brother; what brings you out this early?'

'For shit's sake Jeff ( _from Cynthia_ ) why don't you make yerself a bit presentable? You look awful.'

Ignoring Cynthia, Laurie said,

'Heard 'bout your binge yesterday; I heard that you and the Thomson boy were completely wasted. I suppose I should commend you for not driving. Just the same, don't ever use my officers to get you out of trouble again. Ok?'

'Noted,' said Jeff offhandedly. 'I hear you Sergeant.'

'What _(from Cynthia_ ) did you and the Thomson boy have to talk about all that time? When I ask a question or need you to do something for me I can only get a few words from you; what could you possibly be talking about for nearly five hours?'

'It's none of yer business; none of yer bloody business. Just shut that filthy hole you call a mouth.' Jeff glared menacingly at his wife, whilst his brother simply leant back against the sink enjoying the spectacle. Jeff took a sip of his hot coffee and said indifferently,

'Actually Laurie, we talked about the past; how our two families were always at each other's throats and how you always picked fights with Barry. You're a thug Laurie; you knew Barry was no match for you but you still insisted on challenging him every opportunity you could. Tell me big brother, do you know why you hated Barry so much. What was it all about Laurie?'

Silence. Both Cynthia ( _who was also intrigued_ ) and Jeff focused on Laurie, who was still leaning against the sink, with arms crossed,

'( _Belligerently)_ who needs a reason? Our dad told us that the Thomsons were a bad lot; that was good enough for me. And it should have been enough for you; but you never listened to the old man, did you? No, you went and made friends with the Thomson boy, didn't you? I reckon that really hurt our dad, you ungrateful piece of shit!'

'So . . . let me get this straight. You didn't know why your father hated the Thomsons yet you still went after Barry Thomson, just on Bert's say-so?' When Laurie nodded an uncomfortable yes, Jeff continued,

'Did you ever ask your mother 'bout the bad blood? 'Cause I can tell you she didn't share your father's hostility. Irene was a very gentle and loving person; she hated that Bert was goading you to do damage to Barry Thomson – she hated what was happening.'

The two men glared at each other; how unlike they were. Laurie with his brutish looks and provocative police uniform, Jeffry all crumpled and baggy eyed, still in his sleep clothes. But where Laurie looked like a thug, Jeff retained his pleasant appearance.

'Well,' demanded Jeff. 'Did you ever ask my aunt – your mother, what the feud was about? What was going through your mind as you were bashing up Barry Thomson? I mean, surely a normal person would demand to know why he was fighting and inflicting harm on another person.'

'Oh . . . I see; it's my fault now? I just followed what me dad urged me to do; to uphold our family name. He knew you were so spineless that he couldn't ask you to protect our name so he left you out. And you are spineless; you're a disgrace to our family and particularly to our family name!'

'Oh, you call me spineless, me - spineless! What about your bloody father? Who's the spineless one that makes his son fight his battles for him? Eh! He was simply a drunken bullyboy who disgracefully used his own son to fight his battles. He was a coward as well as spineless!'

Laurie Cree dropped all pretense of composure and rushed at Jeff shouting,

'You twisted evil shit!' but before he could assault Jeff, Cynthia intervened with,

'Stop it! Stop it! I won't have fighting in my home. Take it outside. You can brawl all you want, but not in my house. Understand?'

And this cooled tempers; both men just stood glaring at each other, Laurie with his hands balled ready to strike, and Jeff with his fists clenched and in a defensive crouch.

With tension dissipating, Laurie calmed down and spoke first.

'Frankly, I don't care what you do with your friend Thomson; just don't involve my officers again. If you do, I'll see to it that you're both breathalized and charged. Now that I'd enjoy.'

###

Several days after Billy's suspension, Barry met with him again at the local footy ground. This time Billy brought his two siblings and introduced them to Barry. His younger brother was called 'Botj' and he was ten, whilst the sister 'Sally' only eight. Botj was spindly but had distinct facial features. Like all indigenous youth he had satin skin and large dark brown eyes. But his eyes carried the look of worldly experience that you'd not expect to find in one so young.

On the other hand, little Sally was just adorable, with a perpetual smile showing stunning white teeth. Unlike Botj her eyes radiated innocence and happiness. She was like an exquisite little doll come to life. And they were both proud of their older brother being helped by a famous footy star. Barry found that Botj followed North Melbourne and was keen to learn and improve his footy game.

Sally was just contented to sit quietly and watch the practice session; but Barry noticed that both Billy and Botj kept a close brotherly watch over their young sister.

After they called it a day, Barry was surprised when Billy issued an invitation to come home with them. Botj and Sally became so enthusiastic that Barry could not refuse.

The only association he'd ever had with indigenous folk was the lads playing footy. But they lodged in other people's homes as they came from far away to play footy in Melbourne. Then he met Billy's parents and they made him feel very welcome. He'd heard stories of black people living in filth; too crushed by the white man to begin to care about themselves. He was surprised.

The homes had been specially constructed of the ever-popular 'fibro' and contained in an area obviously set apart for indigenous people.

Was this an attempt at apartheid by the whites, why should black people be set aside so visibly? Fundamentally it's wrong!

Billy's home was neat, tidy, and very clean. His mother was very gregarious and showed no signs of being mistreated. The father was surly at first but soon was warmed by the infectious enthusiasm Billy and the kids had towards Barry.

News of Barry's calling spread throughout the settlement and soon the lounge room was jam packed with laughing and happy people. Barry was treated like a god. Everybody was grateful and wanted to shake his hand; they thanked him time after time for coming to visit. Barry noticed that of all the girls little Sally was definitely the prettiest.

She's gonna grow up to be a beautiful young girl. I hope her father keeps a special eye out for her welfare. Such beauty can attract the wrong interest. But this is amazing; I never imagined that indigenous folk lived like they do here. But it's daytime now; I wonder what the situations like at night when the men folks go drinking. From what Billy said, it's not good.

Billy's dad ( _dad will do; his native name was almost unpronounceable_ ) started talking about the origins of Australian Rules football. It seems the Djabwurrung and Jardwadjali people of western Victoria once participated in a traditional game called 'Marn Grook', a type of football played with possum hide. The game is believed by some historians, to have inspired a man called Tom Wills, to invent the code of Australian Rules football.

Barry departed with feelings of satisfaction and contentment, vowing to follow up on the invitations to 'come again'.

###

'. . . and I wanted to thank you Gloria, for helping us out the other night; Jeff and I were really wasted. He got me into drinking shots of tequila and I'm not used to strong booze.' Barry smiled at the memory.

They met again at the coffee shop at Barry's request. Besides thanking Gloria for coming to their rescue, Barry felt obligated to relate Billy's revelations to Gloria.

'Forget it.' Gloria laughed, 'Only too happy to help out. Yep! You both were certainly wasted; almost wish I had joined you. I bet that bitch Cynthia made Jeff's life hell when he woke up this a.m. I gather you both had a great time.'

'Well, it was a little strained at first; after all it was Jeff who called me, so I had to wait until he'd relaxed a bit . . . the tequila helped. Well the first and second ones did; what the others contributed is debatable.'

'Did you find out about the quarrel, I mean before you both got wasted?

At that time the waitress Robyn, appeared to take their order. She was beaming and anxious to please.

'Mr. Thomson . . .'

'Please . . . call me Barry.'

'. . . um, Barry, my son Peter won't let that footy out of his sight. He even takes it to bed with him. He's the envy of all the kids; my husband Karl wants to thank you by buying you a shout at the club. Please, please let him . . . he really wants to thank you.'

'Ok . . . hey thanks, how can I refuse? Tell him I'll meet up about six this p.m. at the club.'

With their orders taken, Gloria asked Barry again about the feud.

'Did he tell you anything more than what you already know?

'No, not really. He says his aunt Irene did make mention of my father Bill, and inferred that they knew each other before she married Bert. Beyond that I learnt nothing new. We didn't dwell on the subject, as we were both eager to fill in the missing years. I learned a lot about him and vice versa. Fact is I'm envious; I wish I were as good looking as Jeff; that half smile of his I reckon would win him many hearts. I don't think he does it deliberately, just part of his natural expression. Oh, and hey . . . I almost forgot. Jeff was adopted by the Crees when his own parents were killed in a car crash; that's why he's different to Laurie. Understandably, he was very close to his aunt Irene, who was his mum's sister.'

'Well . . . I 'spose that clears up one mystery. But you still don't know how the bad blood started. That's a shame. I 'spose you'll never know Barry; best move on and try and forget about it. Nothings gonna be gained by brooding over it.'

'Nah . . . guess so. But hey Gloria, I wanted to talk about something else. Billy got suspended from school and afterwards I had a very intimate talk with him. He told me . . .' and Barry retold in detail everything that Billy had said, leaving nothing out. When he finished, Gloria leaned back and angrily almost yelled,

'Shit! Shit! Shit! So it's true. What I've been suspecting is true.' She paused before continuing,

'But it's not proof; it only confirms my suspicions that there's something bad going on. Christ! How frustrating; and all the time these kids are being victimized. Shit!'

Barry sighed, 'Gloria, there's another factor to be considered. When I visited Billy's folks, they had huge plasma TV's, modern hi-fi systems, even a Home entertainment unit. Didn't get to look into the kitchen but wouldn't surprise me if they didn't own modern kitchen appliances.'

'Are you saying Barry that the parents are profiting from their kids sex adventures; and you approve of it? Is that what you're telling me?'

'Yes, I am. And I'm in a horrible place . . . they've just adopted me into the larger family and given me a new name – Barry Yorta. How can I turn around and betray that honor? How G?'

'That's bullshit. Bullshit! It's not about you. . . It's about children being molested. Pedophilia! It's about adults abusing little kids for their revolting pleasures. How can you sit there, bald faced and tell me it's alright because the family's spending their ill-gotten gains on expensive entertainment goods. You really disappoint me Barry; I thought you were bigger than that. I'll pay the bill as I leave!'

'Hey Gloria, cool it. Chill out! I didn't say it was alright to take money from the kids. I never said that . . . and never will. Forget I mentioned the honor bestowed on me. Forget I said that and for God's sake, cool down.'

Gloria continued to stare angrily at Barry but remained sitting. When she'd raised her voice, people had turned and looked in their direction but now that the explosion had subsided they returned to their conversations. Robyn came over and softly enquired of Gloria,

'Is everything Ok? You seemed angry. Do you want another coffee?'

'No, sorry! Didn't mean to raise my voice. It's Ok now. Yes I'd like another . . .' she looked at Barry and seeing him nod affirmatively, continued '. . . . Make that two coffee's. Thanks Robyn.

They sat in frustrated silence, considering the dilemma they were in; Gloria knowing but having no proof, and Barry, not wanting to betray the trust placed on him by Billy's family, but wanting these pedophiles brought to justice. Barry spoke first.

'Gloria, what would be normal police procedure knowing what we know now?'

'Easy! Catch them in the act. Catch them in the act by taking photos and any other proof that can be provided. DNA would help but is pretty hard to get in these circumstances. What do you have in mind?'

'Now that I'm a member of the clan, I'm willing to betray their trust if you can keep me out of it. Like, I'd pass on whatever info I can get, as long as you act without telling anyone where the info is coming from. You may call me gutless, perhaps I am, but I've always honored any trust placed in me; to dishonor any trust sits very badly with me . . . whatever the situation.'

'I understand Barry, I really do. I apologize for sounding off before; adults abusing kids sexually is my pet aversion. Look, maybe there's another approach we can take. What about the parents? Surely they don't place more value on worldly goods than their kid's welfare? Parents are parents the world over. No parent, and I mean no parent, will want to see their child abused!'

'I agree with you, Barry sighed. 'But here we're dealing with folks who are poor, very poor, and I suspect they do place greater value on trinkets than the kid's welfare. They don't see any harm being done –; to them it's just a game, a game their winning. The only positive issue is that now I'm Billy's clan brother, I'll use that to try and get closer to him; he's already gone a fair way by opening up to me.'

'Yeah . . . I guess you're right. I just hate to sit by and do nothing; it's not in my genes!'

###

Gloria ( _looking very attractive and shapely in a pale green off-shoulder dress_ ), and Barry were sitting by themselves at the RSL. Basically, they had not advanced any further than their earlier conversation.

'I've been giving a lot of thought to the problem,' Barry admitted. 'But I'm stumped. It would be stupid to make accusations without any proof to support our claims; it would only warn the perpetrators off . . . to lie low for the time being. We need to be careful, very careful.'

'Yep, that's true,' Gloria agreed. 'Fact is I've been doing some thinking myself; you were right to stop me sounding off. What if the real problem is a cover up at all levels. Not knowing who the culprits are, we don't know how far the conspiracy goes. Does it involve anyone in the police station? It obviously involves church people and it could . . . I suspect, involve local councilors. To come out now would be disastrous. A bloody mistake, which would only drive the perps underground.'

"Yep, I've been thinking along those lines myself, I don't believe I'm gonna learn too much from Billy's folk . . .'

'Hi people; mind if I join?' Barry looked around and was pleased to see Jeff standing there with a full glass.

'No, no not at all. You're very welcome 'ol buddy. Take a pew. Real glad to see you.'

"Well ( _Gloria_ ) Jeffry Cree, you're certainly looking better than the last time I saw you.'

'What were you saying 'bout Billy's folk, or . . . am I intruding?'

'Seems they're going to formally adopt me into their clan and I was trying to get some info 'bout the ceremony. I don't want to be covered in white chalk and munch bush grubs. Yuk!'

Just then Gloria spoke up, 'Barry, I think Peter Ballard's father Karl is coming over.'

Barry looked around and spied a hefty muscled blond man approaching their table with a large glass of beer.

'Hi,' he said. 'Names Karl, Karl Ballard. Bought you a beer for the favor ya did me son, Peter.' He placed the glass before Barry and shook hands. Then,

'Mind if I have a quiet word with ya?'

With a shrug Barry got up and moved with Karl to an empty table; but Karl didn't sit, he just stood making Barry stand too.

'Look, I'm thankful for what ya did for me boy, but I gotta say . . .' at that he paused and looked Barry in the eye.

'It's been noticed that you've been getting close to the blackfellas and I thought I'd mention that we don't like white folks associating with the coons. It's alright teaching them's kids but not good to get friendly with the oldies. Ya may not like it but that's just the way we are here. Ya haven't seen 'em when they get all liquored up and antsy. Yer a great guy and we all respect yer footy fame but if ya gonna live here in town, best to keep away from the blackies. Ok? Just thought I'd mention it friendly like, for yer own good. '

And walked away leaving Barry white-faced with fury.

It took him a few moments to collect himself before he rejoined Gloria and Jeff. Seeing the look on Barry's face, they demanded to know what happened. So, he told them. They reacted differently; Gloria hugged Barry and Jeff wanted to go over and abuse Karl Ballard. But Barry told Jeff to cool it; no good came of escalating the issue. Jeff reacted,

'But ya can't let an ignorant bastard like that get away with it. Not to mention how he's gonna poison his kid as he grows up. You mentioned the mother; does she think like that arsehole of a husband.' Both Barry and Gloria chorused. . . . No!

'I guess it's really a family matter,' Gloria reasoned. 'We can't get involved between a hubby and his wife; they have to sort it out. But I really feel sorry for young Peter. Geeze, what a mess; we got kids being brainwashed by brain dead illiterates and kids being sexually molested for money. I . . .'

Gloria stopped suddenly, kicking herself for being indiscreet. Jeff immediately pounced,

'What about kids being molested? What's going on?' He demanded.

Both Gloria and Barry shared a glance and with a nod from Barry, Gloria took Jeff into their confidence.

###

He was a nice man and made her feel happy. He offered to show her a secret place where real fairies lived. He said she looked like the fairy queen, but she had to promise not to tell anyone because it might scare the little fairies away. All he would say was that they lived near a small brook and only came out to play in the afternoon. It was afternoon now, so she eagerly followed him through the bush until they came across some running water. He told her to sit beside him and be quiet, so not to frighten the little people.

Then he told her that they had to take their clothes off so they looked the same as the pixies. She followed his example and soon they were both naked; her black skin a contrast to his blotchy white skin. Without clothes, he looked very ugly with horrible black hairs all over his body. She wondered if being so ugly it would frighten the little people away.

But what was ugly was a big tube of flesh that jutted out from his peewee. She'd never seen anything so ugly before. It had a big red bulb on the end and something was dripping out of it. Suddenly, she became frightened as he forced himself to lie on top of her. He nearly crushed her with his weight.

And he smelled bad. His body was all wet and he mumbled words into her ear. He whispered, and told her not to be frightened because the fairy people liked to watch before they came out to play. She knew something was wrong, very wrong and that she was in great danger. She fought to get from out under him but he kept her pinned against the rough ground. And then something really awful happened.

She felt something press against her little peewee hole and realized it was the ugly horrible dripping thing. Now she was truly terrified, she didn't know what was happening and started to scream. But the sound was muffled as he placed his big hand over her tiny mouth. That was when her agony truly began.

He began to force that awful big thing into her peewee, but she was too small. The pain became unbearable. She felt her skin tear and felt wetness as bleeding commenced. She fought against him; she tried to push him off; she tried to twist her body to get that horrible thing out of her. But she couldn't. Oblivious to her pain and screaming, he kept forcing that thing deep inside her; ignoring her screams; ignoring the blood; ignoring her frantic resistance; he was lost in his own sickening pleasure.

It became too much for her to bear; mercifully she passed out and drifted away to another place where evil did not exist. Her last memories were of pain and his awful smell . . . and her mother.

### Chapter Four

The parents of little Ruth Jalla were distraught that she didn't return home when expected. Ruth was known to wander off alone and this added to their concern. All the clan came together and started searching the bush where she loved to play. Sadly, it was a short search. Her body, crudely hidden by brushes and a few rocks, was found, not by her own people, but by a bushwalker out for a stroll.

The whole clan, and indeed the entire tribe rallied around her parents who were, in a word . . . gutted. Laurie Cree and Gloria were called to the scene and immediately set up a crime site. It became apparent that she didn't die where she was buried. Within a short time the true site of the killing was established . . . beside a small stream and so another crime site was cordoned off.

Silently, both officers surveyed the body left bruised, bloody and twisted like a broken doll. Cree didn't offer any comment but Gloria spoke aloud,

'Well, it's certainly obvious that she's been raped; brutally raped and then . . . I was gonna say strangled but there are no signs of any ligature or hand marks around her neck. But look at her mouth; it's all bruised and lacerated. My guess – and it's only a guess – is that she was suffocated. I don't think he intended to kill her . . . if that's any consolation.'

Cree just mumbled, 'Looks like it,' and continued staring at the body. Then,

'Must 'ave been one of the abbos junked up on booze and petrol sniffing. Let's get the body to the coroner as quickly as possible; she's gonna start stinking soon.'

'Hey Sarge, shouldn't we call in the forensic team. There must be loads of invisible evidence we have to gather.'

'Such as . . . ?'

'Look on her body; it's covered with body fluids that aren't hers. I'd say he sweated a lot and it's all over her. We've got great DNA evidence that we can't ignore. All we have to do is match the DNA to a perp and we've got him!'

Grudgingly, Cree agreed and instructed,

'Get onto Melbourne and have a forensic flown out here ASAP. Assign two coppers to guard the crime scenes; and keep the bloody abbos away. They'll have to wait until we're finished before we can release the body to them.'

As Cree sauntered away, Gloria looked down at the broken body of little Ruthie Jalla.

You poor little girl; no one deserves to die like this, brutally raped and then suffocated, left in a shallow grave at the mercy of animals. What kind of depraved mongrel would do this . . . could do this. We'll get you shit face. You left your calling card all over her body. Now little Ruthie is yelling at us to take the evidence you left behind so we can strike you with the full extent of white man's justice; that is if the abbos don't get you first.

The news of Ruth Jalla's death spread like a bushfire throughout the community; particularly the Aboriginal community. Barry accompanied Gloria to the settlement where they tried to comfort parents who were inconsolable. A death is always a traumatic event, but the death of a young child, and the circumstances of that death, is a heavy burden for any community to carry. Gloria had to ask questions about Ruth's last known movements; she found it a difficult and loathsome task.

But the early enquiries were disappointing so Gloria had to pin her hope on the forensic team coming up with some clues. At least they had DNA that was extremely important; she advanced the idea of having all the males in town providing DNA samples but Laurie Cree objected to this; at least at this time he wanted to pursue traditional avenues of investigation.

Then the forensic report arrived and confirmed the existence of foreign DNA on Ruth's body. But strangely, they also found teardrops on Ruth's face; it seems that the perp had cried over the body when he'd finished. What did this mean? Did the perp suddenly regret his killing?

After three days the investigation became bogged down, and Ruth's body was released back to her people for burial.

###

'Do you know what you've done? I assume it was you who killed and raped the child. It was you . . . Wasn't it?'

'Yes, yes, yes! I didn't mean to; you've got to believe me. It was an accident. I . . . I, Ummm, got carried away. I didn't know she was dead until . . . until, I'd . . . finished. Oh God, I feel awful. I . . . just had to talk to you . . . or someone!'

'And I shouldn't have answered my phone; but I knew it was you and needed to talk . . . you fuck'n idiot! You've put us all in danger. I've talked to a few of the others and they're ordering you to lay low; don't go out foraging until the heat dies down . . . if it ever will. You're a fuckwit!'

'Oh shit, I don't know what to do. I'm so sorry. What can I do? What do you want me to do?'

'Drop dead would be nice, but that's too much to expect from you! D'ya know you left your DNA all over the child? Ya may as well leave a calling card!'

'How can I get 'round that?'

'Ya can't! Just make sure they don't obtain a sample of your DNA, because if they do, it's all over for you. You'll do time; but not for long, 'cause you'll be found dead with a crowbar up yer arse.'

( _Sobbing . . . muffled sobbing_ )

'Oh, shut up! Look, just act normal, hide your feelings and don't panic. I'll keep watch on the situation and I'll let you know of any developments that may point your way. Play it cool! Ok?'

'Yeah . . . all right. I'll do what you say. I promise.'

'Ok; don't call me, I'll call you.

###

Two days after Ruth's death, Billy told Barry he wanted to talk.

' . . . I'se really got the wind up about little Ruthie. What if it was one of the hippos who kilt her? They know they'se not gonna try any rough stuff on me, and Botj is a real hard-arse even though he's only ten. The filthy perv's gotta pick on some little abbo girl who can't defend herself like us boys can. Fuck'n coward!'

'Yep, that's true Billy . . . but what's your point?'

'I'se wondering if we could bribe the hippo's info for sex? They get very hungry for a blow job or better and I think they'll do anything for a bitta relief.'

Barry exploded,

'No way, no way hosay! Don't you go getting involved Billy and that applies particularly to you brother . . . and any other kids involved. We're dealing with some bad people here. They've killed once and I'm sure their gonna kill again . . . if they have to. Leave it to the cops; they'll find who killed little Ruthie.'

'What if the cops are involved; what if they'se covering up? How we gonna get justice If'n they'se all bad?'

'The local cops aren't involved any more. They've brung a team from Melbourne to handle the case; and Constable Meadows . . . you know Gloria Meadows? ( _Billy nodded yes_ ) . . . she's been asked to coordinate with the Melbourne cops.'

'But If'n they'se come in one of the kid's mouth and we give the juice to you, won't you get that den nay from it?'

'You mean DNA. Yes that's true but you don't know the name of . . . _Jesus, how to I say this properly . . ._ the person belonging to the DNA sample.'

'Uhh. . I see the problem; but . . .'

'Billy, just leave it, huh! I know you're only trying to help but let the Melbourne cops – the Criminal Investigation Unit – do their job. Promise me you'll not do anything foolish!'

###

'Gloria, can you imagine the bloody position I was in; there was this kid offering a mouth full of cum up for DNA analysis. It's bizarre. I didn't know what to say, except just 'leave it be' and let the professionals do their work. With Ruth Jalla's murder, all the rules have changed . . . somehow I've got to stop the kids offering sex favors for money. But I don't know how . . . I'm frustrated.'

'Same here.'

'What's the latest news from the investigation team, or are you not allowed to tell me?'

'I'll tell you what I can, but right now we both need a refill.' As Gloria made her way to the bar, Barry looked around at the crowded RSL.

Was the killer here in this crowd, right now? Were there people who could offer more info? What does a killer look like? Questions, questions, questions.

Gloria returned from the bar and re-settled herself.

'All I know is that we have the perps DNA . . . loads of it. We even know he cried over the body, presumably after . . . he'd finished. All we have to do is match the DNA and the case is solved. Simple? . . . yeah right.'

'There must be some way; there must be some way to get samples of everyone's DNA. I'm gonna go down after school and let them take a swab from me. Surely, it's a process of elimination; the more they can narrow the field, the closer they'll get to the killer. But that's another issue; do you think I should tell them about the kids performing sexual favors for church people?'

'Oh, absolutely! Now that a child has been killed, the investigation team needs all the info it can get. At this morning's meeting they admitted that they had no fresh leads. Look at is this way, if you don't tell them you could be charged with withholding evidence or obstruction of justice. Do it ASAP!'

'Yeah . . . you're right. But first I'll tell Billy to pass the word around so's they don't get caught out.'

'No! No, absolutely not! You mustn't warn them. I know it's hard but . . . look Barry; you don't owe anybody anything anymore. A child has been killed . . . brutally, so it's not the time to observe social niceties. Just do it! . . . or I'll do it myself!'

'Ok, Ok. I'll . . .' Just then Barry's mobile rang and when he answered,

'Barry, it's Jeff. Look . . . Ummm, can I see you ASAP. I need to talk. Any chance you can meet me at the Settlers Arms in say, about half an hour?'

'If it's important, Ok. I'm at the RSL with Gloria Meadows; I can come now if you want?'

'I want; and Barry can you come alone. No reflection on Gloria but what I want to talk about is personal.' Barry hung up and said to Gloria's expectant face,

'That was Jeff. Wants to meet and talk about some personal stuff.'

'How is he Bazz? I'd like to help but I think it may be misconstrued . . . by the wife I mean.'

_Hmmm, something going on here. Does our tough female copper have a little soft spot for our Jeffry? Be fun to keep a watch on_.

###

'Did Gloria mind? I didn't want to insult her or anything, it's . . . well, I want to talk just between you and me.' After a pause he said. 'Fuck Barry, my life's a train wreck. My life's all shit! I don't know how much longer I can hold it together.'

Jeffry looked miserable. He was sitting forward with his arms on the table and his head hanging down. He hadn't shaved and was looking unkempt. Barry leaned forward and gave him a comforting squeeze on his shoulder. The Shearers Arms was quiet and the lighting subdued; all conducive to a private meeting. This time Jeffry was only drinking beer without tequila shots.

'No, Gloria's Ok. Jesus Jeff . . . what's happened? The other night you seemed happy; maybe drunk happy, but happy just the same and now . . . what? What's happened to bring this on?'

'You, Barry . . . you. You happened!'

When Barry's face portrayed his puzzlement, Jeff continued,

'I know I'm weak Bazz; you must have twigged on to me when we were kids. _(Barry went to protest)_ I . . . No please, let me continue, I need to get this all out; been bottling up inside for some time. But the morning after we 'hung' together, I woke feeling happy . . . really happy. Took me some time to get me head around it but I suddenly realized . . . um, err, ( _pause_ ) I'd found a friend. . . ( _Once again Barry wanted to interject but Jeff waived him into silence)._ Y'see, I never had a real friend 'afore. Growing up I became a loner and just assumed that no-one wanted to pal up wi' me. Sure I've wallowed in self-pity that would cause anybody to take a hike; no one wants to be around misery. But I grasped the other morning that I enjoyed your company and . . . and, that made me feel bloody happy . . . ,'

Barry had had enough of this so he cut Jeff off,

'Shit Jeff, ya can be a fuck'n windbag some times. I felt the same way buddy, so don't get so bloody dramatic. You probably think that just 'cause I've had a great footy career, that I've got heaps of friends. Well, I don't. Got acquaintances . . . loads, but no-one I'd really call a friend. Playing footy is very competitive and, I have to say requires ya t'be aggressive and that can ruin friendships. Most guys make friends outside footy. Now . . . ( _geeze now I'm being a windbag_ ). . . I do know that yer best friends come from yer childhood; and that's what I'm getting to Jeffry. We became friends when we were kids and now we're just picking up where we left off. I'm proud to have you as a friend Jeffry Cree.'

Jeffry was overwhelmed. Barry's affection was so unexpected that he could feel emotion building up; he actually felt like bawling but managed to control himself. He just sat in silence as Barry continued,

'You poor bastard, you've dug yerself into a bloody big hole full of self-pity all these years; 'bout time ya got out and started laughing. I mean, look at yerself Jeff; you're bloody good looking and I bet can charm the pants off any maiden, ( _Jeff started blushing_ ) no, I'm serious; I'm pretty sure that Gloria's got the hot's for you.'

Shit! Should I have said that? Well, who gives a shit!

'So, I gather that things between you and Cindy are not going so good . . . or did I misread your remarks the other day? I hope I'm not outta line; just thought ya might want to talk about it. . . . if it helps'

Jeff was considering Barry's offer and took some time before replying, then

'Nah, Cindy and I are not what you call happily married. We were at first, but I reckon we were more in love with each other's bodies. When ya get satiated with sex and there's nothing left afterwards, you just seem to drift apart. Lots of young kids make the same mistake. So now, I suppose we'll just separate and then finally get divorced. Dunno 'bout the last, she was brought up a catholic.'

'Yeah, that's always a problem . . . bloody religion. D'ya think it'll go that far; I mean divorce is pretty severe? Surely there must be something left between you'se?' Jeff seemed to stare vacantly for a bit, then

'I had a breakdown just recently; everybody knows about it. We were at a BBQ that Laurie was holding for the staff when Cindy and young Jimmy started flirting. Well, let me put it another way; Cindy got pissed and started flirting with Jimmy and the poor kid just went along with Cindy. After a while it got embarrassing but instead of Laurie telling them to cool it, he started to egg them on just to humiliate me.'

'Jesus, Laurie is a shit! Yeah, I can believe he'd do that. What happened?'

'I lost it! Completely! Don't want to go into details but I completely lost it. Ended up in a Psychiatric hospital for a spell before they discharged me.'

'What did Cindy have to say for herself? I mean did she apologize for what she did? ( _Jeff signaled no_ ) Christ! If I saw my wife blatantly carrying on with anyone else . . . I mean, right 'afore me eyes . . . I'd feel like killing her. But, can I say but there you go again buddy, you had a breakdown and punished yerself whereas Cindy, who did the crime, got off utterly free. Can I ask you, when you were in hospital did they give you any assertive training?'

'What d'ya mean, assertive training? What're ya talking 'bout, d'ya mean like being aggressive?'

'No, no. There's a big difference between aggression and assertiveness . . . a real big difference. Here, here's a simple example. A kid and his dad are out shopping; the kid spies a toy he wants and starts badgering his dad to buy the toy. If the dad reacts aggressively, he'd probably slap the kid and tell him to shut up or else. If he's simply assertive he tells the kid in a very firm voice that he's not gonna have the toy and to stop being a crybaby. D'ya understand Jeff, there's a very important difference? ( _Barry paused whilst Jeff listened attentively)_ In the first instance the kid would probably start howling louder and be resentful for the physical abuse; the father loses his moral authority. In the second instance . . . being assertive . . . the kid knows that with no amount of posturing will he get the toy; end of story.'

Barry watched as the light dawned on Jeffry; it was obvious that the message had resonated.

'It's that simple? Is it really that simple? But how d'ya overcome years of being a wimp? I guess I'm a good Christian, always turning the other cheek.'

'That's up to you. Just practice; read some books; look back over past instances and consider how you'd handle the situation differently.'

Just then, Barry's mobile rang. It was Gloria.

'Is everything alright? Is Jeff OK? D'ya need my help?'

'Nah, everything's fine; in fact it's gonna be a hell of a lot better for our good friend Jeffry Cree from now on. We're into shots now. But don't worry; we'll call a cab.'

He hung up and looked over at Jeff,

'C'mon, enough of drama; let's get pissed and catch a cab home.'

###

"I'm sorry, I need to talk to someone . . . I can't go on pretending. I keep looking over my shoulder, waiting for the police to arrest me. How could I have killed that poor little girl? I didn't mean to . . . I think it's better I go straight to the police and confess.'

'Are you completely mad? You fuckwit! What about the rest of us? Hmmm. You don't give a shit about anybody except yourself. You disgust me; go away, keep quiet and let things cool down. Remember they might have your DNA but they can't match it to anyone. And you're looking a mess. Go and clean up; then go and relieve yourself with a little girlie porno. But whatever you do, don't go confessing to anyone. I'll put a good word in for your mortal soul.

###

'We have a problem! Unfortunately, it's become a serious problem.'

'Let me guess . . . our little friend?'

"Yes. He's starting to crumble . . . already; and I'm sure that when he does, he'll take us all down with him. We're running out of options.'

'Don't be a fuckwit! You mean we've run out of options. He's made the decision for us. Put simply, it's either him or us. Correct?'

'( _Sigh_ ) yes. I kept hoping that we could ride it out, but I know now that we cannot. I don't know what the next step is? I've . . . I've . . . well, I've never had to face anything like this before. I feel terrible.'

'Bullshit! You know exactly what we have to do now. If you're so squeamish, I'll have to handle it; we can't have you getting your lily-white hands dirty, can we? You make me wanna puke!'

'You can drop that superior tone. You're just as concerned about your part in the whole mess. The difference between you and I is that I feel remorse whereas you obviously don't.'

'( _Sniggering laughter_ ) Ok, just leave it to me.'

###

Fa.James yawned and stretched his legs. His watch indicated only another twenty minutes before the afternoon confession ended, and he was already looking forward to a cup of tea with Fa.O'Brien. Then the indicator light came on signaling a penitent had entered the confessional. With practiced ease he slid open the communication panel and waited for the parishioner to begin.

. . . And waited.

Then came the sound of sobbing . . . soft racking sobs.

'Don't be stressing yourself so. Take your time; and if you'll be wanting to freshen up, there's a box of tissues nearby. Gently now; I've got all the time in the world, so you take your time. Let's start with your last confession; when was it?'

'( _Sob_ ) about three weeks ago . . . no, it's more like two weeks ago; no . . . it's three weeks now. I've . . . ( _sob_ ) I'm all confused.'

'That's a good man. Now, what's happened in the last three weeks that has troubled you so?'

'I'm ( _sob_ ) fright . . . frightened to tell you. I've done something really, really bad. I . . . ( _sob_ ) . . . I . . . it's so bad I can't say the words. I wish I was dead! Father, my sin is so bad I don't think you can forgive me.'

Silence again . . . with the sound of sobbing. Fa.James waited. And then,

'There is no such sin that cannot be forgiven. Are you a good practicing catholic? Do you understand the grace given to you by making confession?'

'Yes, oh yes. I'm a brother at a catholic college. I understand my religion thoroughly. I ( _sob_ ) . . . I know about forgiveness. But father, you may be able to forgive me, but I can't forgive myself.'

'Well you came to confession for a reason, didn't you? You want to confess this sin that's eating away at you. You'll be wanting to share the burden?'

'Yes father, yes, yes, yes. I can't sleep; I'm depressed and have even considered suicide. I just can't go on pretending all's ok. I need to be punished!'

'Hold there; you know killing yourself is a mortal sin. You have no alternative now; you must confess.'

Silence; except for the sobbing and then,

'I suppose I'm really past caring . . . I . . . I killed someone; I killed a little girl; I ( _sob_ ) choked her to death with my hands; hid her in a shallow grave hoping that she wouldn't be found. I killed one of god's creations, with my own hands. ( _Sob_ ) Now I'm so sorry and scared.'

'( _gasp_ ) Are you talking about the little aboriginal girl that's in all the papers?'

'Yes . . . yes father . . . I am. I'm the ( _sob_ ) one that killed her.'

Blessed Jesus! This is unbelievable. Here, in my confessional, is the killer of that poor little girl. And he's come here to confess and seek forgiveness. How can I forgive his sin? His monstrous sin. But I don't have a choice; as atrocious as it is, I have to forgive him in the name of Jesus.

Fa.James allowed a silence to grow as he considered his position. Then the penitent asked,

'Can I be forgiven Father? I did not mean to harm the child but my . . . err . . . umm, lust drove me to it. Even though I've taken a vow of celibacy I still get unnatural urges that I try to suppress or control. Now, I can't control my urges any longer; for years I held them under control, but I can't anymore. My sexual urges are destroying me . . . have destroyed me.'

'In a way I can understand your dilemma; celibacy is a very hard way to live. If it were an adult I'd be understanding . . . probably sympathetic. I'd after being a hypocrite to say I've not had desires; but you raped and killed a little child. A little child of – eight-I think – yes, eight years. That's not natural; it's unnatural. It's perverted; you're a deviant! A very sick deviant.'

'( _Sigh_ ) yes father I know. That's why I should kill myself. I don't deserve to live.'

'Enough of that!' Fa.James thundered. 'I'll hear no more talk of suicide. What you need is help. Psychiatric help! I can't help you there.'

After a pause . . .

'I'll give you absolution only, and I mean only, if you'll give yourself up to the police. Will you promise me, on your immortal soul, that you'll go straight to the police and confess to the crime? Will you do that?'

'Yes father, yes, yes, yes! I want to cleanse my soul. I'm just part of a ring of pedophiles operating in this town and else-ware. I acknowledge my sickness; I know I'm not normal, I'm a pervert but I'm not alone; this depravity has got to stop else there'll be other young kids killed.'

'( _under his breath_ ) Sweet Jesus!'

Silence . . . then,

'I give you absolution for your sins. Your penance will be going to the police and owning up to this horrible crime; you must also alert the police to the pedophiles you say are operating in this town. Do you agree?'

'Yes father; yes I do.'

Then let's say the Act of Contrition,

' _(together) Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all of my sins because . . ._

### Chapter Five

After the penitent left Fa.James sat in the Confessional trying to absorb what he'd just heard. It was hard to accept that a brother priest could commit such a horrendous crime. He was shaken to the core; never before had he faced such an awful confession. The urge for normality overpowered him and he longed for his customary cup of tea with Fa.O'Brien.

'My heavens man, you look awful!' Fa.O'Brien remarked when Fa.James entered the kitchen. The latter was walking as if in a state of shock, his head hung low and his eyes appeared to be unfocussed. He sat down heavily in a chair, and simply stared at the steaming cup of tea placed in front of him.

Both men sipped their tea in silence. Eventually,

'Remember some weeks ago you told me you'd just heard a very startling confession?'

'Yes, of course. I still think about it; I mean, if it wasn't for the sanctity of the confessional, I should have reported the matter to the police. Who knows . . . perhaps the very same man might have killed that little girl.

'No, now I have an understanding of how you must've felt. How does it feel, having the confession on your conscience?'

'Feel, how did it feel? It feels bad. I feel frustrated and angry that I can't say anything; that I must protect this evil person just to protect the sanctity of confession. Ummm . . . why do you ask?'

'Because I've just heard the confession of the person who killed the little indigenous girl; the little eight year old child that was brutally raped and then killed.'

'Sweet Jesus . . . No!' Fa.O'Brien nearly dropped the cup he was holding. He simply stared at Fa.James with a stunned look.

'He admitted to the crime? That he raped the child and then killed her?'

'It's so . . . and there was more?'

'More?'

'Yes, more. Apparently there is a ring of pedophiles operating around the town, and perhaps much wider.'

Silence followed as both men grappled with their emotions; struggled with the enormity of the atrocity, the enormity of their dilemma . . . , and the hopelessness of their position. Fa.James broke the silence,

'I probably shouldn't have said anything to you. Am I breaking my oath on the sanctity of confession?

'Probably! And I shouldn't have said anything about my ghastly confession. In a sense we're both breaking our vows, but . . .'

'Let's just say that we're confessing to each other. Will that satisfy our oath?'

( _Sounding miserable_ ) 'Maybe.' And then,

'James, let's try to sum up the whole situation as we know it.' ( _Seeing Fa.James nod_ ) he continued,

'We know that there is a ring of pedophiles operating in this town and that it extends both to young children ( _Father James nodded agreement_ ) and it's quite possible that the ring extends beyond the town, even to within the state and country. ( _Again Father James nodded_.) We also have a confession from a catholic brother to the rape and murder of that little aboriginal child.'

At that point Fa.O'Brien stopped and the two priests just looked at each other. This was an incredible position to be in, a horrible position to be in. But there they were, bound together by their knowledge of the crime and crimes, and their vow to uphold the sanctity of the confessional. It was Fa.O'Brien who spoke to break the silence,

'James, we share a horrible bond, so please call me Peter; this is no time to be formal with each other.' ( _Fa.James silently nodded his thanks_ ) Then Fa.O'Brien stood up and began pacing the floor,

'We can't do anything . . .' Just then James interrupted,

'Peter, I've remembered something. When he was in the confessional, the penitent was crying and I invited him to use the tissues that we make available for distressed souls. Those tissues would carry his DNA . . .'

'Go get them now James, before any of our volunteer ladies throws them out. I'll wait until you get back. I'll make some more tea.'

In no time Fa.James was back carrying a box containing several used tissues.

'I don't know what good these are Peter, all they really do is support the confession. We need to be able to have a name to this evidence.'

'( _With a sigh_ ) yes I know, that's what's so frustrating, but I've been doing some thinking whilst you were gone. We, as priests, can't do anything about the past crimes. Those we'll have to leave with the authorities. As far as the tissues are concerned, we will just keep them until we grapple with the larger problem.'

'And that is . . . ?'

'Our vow to uphold the sanctity of the confessional on one hand, and our duty to stop any further major crimes being committed on young children.'

' _Millis losa!_ We have to make that kind of choice _?_

'James, ( _laughing_ ) I notice you always lapse into Gaelic when you're distressed.'

'I do . . . I'm not sure; I'm neither prepared nor competent to make such a decision. Peter, I'm just a young parish priest; you're asking me to make a decision that will not only affect my life but the future of the church. Shouldn't we involve the church hierarchy in a momentous decision such as you're proposing?'

'Yes, of course we should. But James we don't have the luxury of time. Because young children are involved we can't afford to wait!'

'Sound like you've made your decision?'

'No, not yet; I'm just presenting the problem as I see it. Let's take another day to make our decision. We both should weigh up the consequences of either staying silent or speaking out. Perhaps we should consult Mr. Johnny Walker for inspiration. Yes?'

###

The arrival of Detective Inspector Tom Fitzpatrick was welcome news to all. He accompanied Cree into the main room where all the cops had assembled to hear the latest on the investigation. He was a man in his forties and exuded confidence.

'. . . So that's it in a nutshell! We have tons of evidence but no name to associate with the evidence. Forensics don't have anything more than the DNA. The question is how do we match the DNA to a person?'

Gloria spoke up with,

'Detective Inspector, I've been hearing rumors about abbo kids doing sex favors to men and getting paid for their services.'

Laurie Cree exploded. 'How come I'm just hearing about this now? How long have you been keeping this information from me?'

'I have told you before; you either weren't listening or you chose to ignore it! In fact all the cops here have heard the same rumors. Why they haven't said a word is probably because you tend to raise your voice . . . just like you're doing now!'

_Wow! These two have history_ (thought Fitzpatrick) _Looks like we have a communications breakdown between the staff and sergeant Cree. I must look into this. Could be that info is not being passed on. That's Cree's fault._

'Constable, don't you dare talk back to me, I'll . . .'

'Hey, stop this! Remember we're all supposed to be working together.' And then when tempers had cooled down,

'I'm getting a lot of pressure from Burke Street and the indigenous community to solve this case, so Senior Constable why don't you fill me in on what you know.'

So Gloria, ( _without identifying names_ ) outlined Barry's info from Billy Yorta and her own suspicions based on rumors. When she finished Tom Fitzpatrick sat forward in his chair,

'So, ( _sounding enthusiastic_ ) if we could interrogate these kids we'll probably pick up some more leads. It's our only pointer to avoid a dead end.' But Cree wasn't going to give in.

'Let me assure you Detective Inspector,' intoned a belligerent Sergeant Cree. 'Regardless of what Senior Constable Meadows had inferred, there is no pedophile ring operating in or near this town. If there was, I would have heard about it!' Gloria responded,

'Detective Inspector . . .'

'Please, both of you call me Tom when we're alone. Sometimes formality has its drawbacks.' ( _Both Gloria and Laurie Cree acknowledged their thanks_ ). Gloria continued,

'The problem is I don't think the abbo kids will open up. It's a great source of income for their parents; in short they need the money.'

'Christ Almighty! I don't believe that parents would want to have their kids sexually molested let alone enjoy the money the kids earn. That's fuck'n awful!' Fitzpatrick sat back in his chair with a look of disbelief. Then after a pause,

'Well, it's the only lead we've got so let's give it a try. How about we start interviewing the kids at the local Marist brother's college?'

'Yeah,' said Sergeant Cree with a sneer. 'Who's gonna ask Br. Dominic? And how are you gonna get the parents' permission if they're the ones you say are profiting from the kids' activities? Lots of luck!'

###

The burial rites began for Ruth Jalla as soon as possible. Because custom demanded that her name could not be mentioned she was simply called 'unynah' meaning 'sleeping child'. Friends, and others who were mere acquaintances, came from all over to join in the 'big sorrow'.

The bereaving family stayed in their house to welcome all well wishes; there was a lot of crying and weeping for poor little 'unynah'. The elders sat together and watched as ceremonial dances were performed and food distributed. As an adopted brother, Barry felt it his duty to attend and invited Gloria to come with him. Billy Yorta was there of course, as he was considered a part of Ruth's enlarged family. When Barry and Gloria had courteously extended their regrets on the passing of Unynah, they sat and joined in the sorrowful proceedings.

'Shit, I feel awful,' Gloria whispered. 'It's gonna become common knowledge soon that all the abbo kids at the school are to be interrogated; I feel shitty just sitting here and not being able to say anything. Sometimes I hate this job!'

'When's that gonna happen? How can you do that without the parents attending or at least giving their permission? First I've heard of it! It stinks.'

'Yeah I agree, but Tom Fitzpatrick thinks it's our only lead; the investigation is going nowhere. He thinks that the kids might know something; at least they might open up a new line of investigation.'

'Well, I reckon it'll be a no-go; kids don't like talking to adults anyways and for them to grass on each other is . . . no it's stupid.'

Just then Billy sauntered over and said,

'Thanks for comin' Mr. B and you too Missus. Der oldies says to say thanks.'

'It's Ok Billy; we want to pay our respects.'

'Dis bastard gonna pay for what he did! I tell you'se dat any 'churchie' who wants the sex will be kilt. Why dose 'hippos' do dis Mr. Bazz, why? We never do nudding to dem so why's they kilt little Unynah? She were a just an innocent little kid. She never done any sex 'cause she's too young and little. You whitees might have yer big ways to find who kilt her, but us abbos got our own ways; him's gonna suffer! Big time suffer. An about 'dis 'terrogat'n', ya'll find no one of us'll talk, bloody waste of fuck'n time.'

Billy then paused and in a soft voice continued,

'Ummm . . . when you sees Mr. Jeff will you tell 'im not to worry; is'll keep me gob shut and won't say a word. Tell 'im not to worry; I'm cool.'

'Billy, what the fuck are you talking about?'

'I means when they'se gonna ask me and me mates questions about us abbos doing the sex.'

Gloria pounced,

'How did you know about the proposed interrogation? It's only been decided on yesterday.'

'Hey come on missus. That fuckwitt Sar'n Cree been shooting his gob around. Reckon it ain't a big secret round here.'

Gloria and Barry exchanged glances; Barry was bewildered, whilst Gloria was furious. Was Cree a blabbermouth or were his motives more sinister? Was he setting out to undermine the interrogation?

###

They sat immobile not looking at each other but staring at their teacups. It had been a long, restless, and agonizing night for both priests. The residence's kitchen was large enough to accommodate a table on which was now set a teapot and pieces of buttered toast; however neither man had any appetite.

'Well, what have you decided on, James? One look at your face tells me it's been a long night; I guess we both look the worst for wear.'

'I'm sorry Peter . . . I haven't decided anything; I've gone around and around until I just confused meself. I suppose I'm gonna take the cowards way out and do nothing; remember its but newly ordained I am and an issue like this was never put before us in the seminary. We were told that the secrecy of the confessional was a sacrament not to be misused, and I'll be still strongly supporting the principle. I know we're talking about children . . . I know that, but surely it's an issue for the police to confront - not us.'

Peter O'Brien considered this and sat thoughtfully looking at James.

'Ah, James, your soft Irish brogue is pleasant music in a situation like this. What you say is true and I respect you standing by your principles. In fact, I'm glad you are, because I've decided as Parish priest the onus is on me to take issue on the matter ( _he watched as Fa.James face relaxed_ ). As I said last night, I see the issue as preserving the sanctity of confession on one hand and protecting children on the other. I believe the necessity to protect children is paramount. I don't believe that protecting the privacy of the confessional should override our responsibility to prevent crimes being committed – particularly against little kids.'

'Peter, ( _as James stirred his tea_ ) I'm feeling the same and I agree with what you're saying; perhaps I just don't have the courage to take any action. I'm ashamed; I wish I had your courage.' Fa.James sat in his chair looking miserable and Fa.O'Brien could sense his inner conflict.

'James, there is a lot to learn in being a priest; things happen in real life that they can't teach you in college. I don't want you to break your vows so early in your career; all I want you to do is perhaps give me advice when I tell you what I'm going to do.'

Fa.O'Brien levied himself out of the chair and crossed over to the sink where the recently boiled kettle was standing. Almost to himself he mused,

'We've spent many a pleasant time in this place and I've thoroughly enjoyed not only your company but our wide ranging discussions. Unfortunately fate sometimes shakes us out of our complacency; like now. ( _Pausing to replenish his tea_ ) I'm not going to make it easy on the police, but I intend to send an anonymous letter to the man in charge of the investigation that a catholic brother has confessed to the brutal murder of the little girl. That's all I will do; it should be enough for the police to intensify their investigations. If I'm asked a direct question I shall refuse by honoring the secrecy of the confessional. What do you think?'

'Ahhh . . . Peter, Peter that's a fine elegant solution. It's great! Maybe we . . . you're being clever but I know you can look yourself in the mirror and believe you've done the right thing. Can I help you with the letter?'

'You'd better young man; I'm no good with this computer stuff and I'm certainly not going to write the letter by hand; my handwriting is unfortunately unique. I want to make sure it's delivered without delay.'

###

The following morning, in a field near the college, two young boys found Bro.Simon's body. Although stabbed through the heart with what looked like an Aboriginal spear, the body was severely mutilated. Bro. Dominic made the formal identification, collapsing after seeing the carnage done to Bro.Simon.

### Chapter Six

If the finding of Bro.Simon's body rocked the town, the impact on the Marist College was utterly devastating. Students and staff were in shock, and counselors arrived quickly to try to alleviate the trauma. The matter became worse when the public discerned details of the murder. A note found near the body appeared to be an admission of guilt to the rape and murder of Ruth Jalla. His severed genitals were shoved down his mouth . . . an obvious message: Nauseating.

In addition, the indigenous spear piercing his heart obviously pointed to a revenge killing. Tom Fitzpatrick joined Gloria and Laurie Cree at the crime scene, which was being thoroughly examined by the forensic team. Whilst Gloria and Cree were questioning the forensic squad, Fitzpatrick walked carefully around the body before examining the deceased.

_Something doesn't add up,_ (he mused) _finding a note carefully placed beside the body, supposedly an admission of guilt, and a spear through the heart, supposedly causing death, seems an attempt to confuse the investigation team. The genital mutilation is to be ignored; someone is being overly dramatic. However, why leave a note? Surely, the perp knows that we'll take a DNA sample and compare that with the sample found on the abbo girl._

Gloria came over and asked, 'What do you think, Sir? There seems to be a lot of conflicting evidence.'

'( _He nodded_ ) Make sure the forensic team take a DNA test and get them to rush me the result. If the note is true, then we've found the killer of the abbo kid. I just don't understand Gloria, why a note was left anyway. I want them to go over the note carefully; something tells me that we may have two perps at work.'

'Yes sir, right away. I noticed that there wasn't much blood around the body. I'd say he was killed else ware and the body dumped where it could be found easily.'

'Yes. I noticed that. What's Sergeant Cree up to?'

'Better you ask him.'

Laurie Cree was standing looking down at the body when Fitzpatrick joined him.

'Looks like the abbos got their revenge. Nasty way to die; the bastards didn't have to slice off his gonads. I hope he wasn't alive when they did . . . poor bastard.'

'That's if the indigenous people did it. We'll have to wait for the Medical Examiner to give cause of death, but looking at the pressure marks around his neck, I'd say that the spear was just to lay a false trail. Tell me Sergeant _(in a quizzical tone_ ), why would a respectable catholic brother want to harm the little girl? Have you heard any rumors about wrongdoing at the college? Have there been other incidences of crime involving the college faculty?'

'Nah, not a thing, I know nothing about rumors mentioned by Snr.Constable Meadows. I reckon it's just female intuition. Are you still going to interrogate the abbo kids? I still figure they'se the one's done it.'

Tom Fitzpatrick couldn't contain himself any longer,

'They'se the one's done it! They'se the one's done it! You amaze me Cree; how you became a fucking Sergeant, I can only wonder! You haven't an inkling of what's going on in this town; you don't connect with your own staff and as far as what's going on . . . you're less than useless.'

'Hey, you arsehole, you can't talk to me like that; just 'cause you outrank me doesn't give you the right to sledge me. I can pound little shits like you into dust. Take off yer bloody jacket and face me like a man. Let's sort this out as men do!'

'And that's exactly what I mean! You can't use your brain so you resort to violence. I'm not afraid of you Cree and once this investigation's over I'll gladly put on gloves with you; but for the time being I have a job to do. Your job is to stay away from the investigation completely. Now piss off!'

Fitzpatrick was still fuming when Gloria walked over,

'Well, we all heard that little love scene; can't say's I blame you. Can I have a crack at him first?'

'Yes Senior Constable, ( _laughing)_ when this is over you can do what you like - be my guest. I don't think Cree will know what hit him.' And then turning back to the crime scene,

'Gloria, what do you make of those marks around his neck? Looks to me like ligature marks, ( _and then straightening up_ ) can you hasten up the Medical and forensic reports; they'll give us a clearer picture.'

Just then, a young constable came running over and ( _breathlessly_ ) told Fitzpatrick an anonymous letter arrived at the police station covering crucial implications for the case.

###

Back at the cop's shop Gloria and Fitzpatrick ( _wearing latex gloves_ ) carefully examined the letter that read,

'In our confessional, a catholic brother has admitted to the murder of Ruth Jalla.'

'Well now Gloria, what do you make of this? It's incredible! This has never happened t'me before, a priest . . . divulging info from a confessional. Weird!'

'I'm just blown away, Tom. I know a lot about Catholics and know they take the sanctity of the confessional very seriously. What are you going to do about it?'

'Get it to forensics to see if there are any clues to who wrote the letter; but if the corpse's DNA matches that taken from Ruth Jalla, the letter is superfluous, if not very bizarre.'

'But Tom, it does point to something deeply wrong in the college. It supports some of the rumors I've heard. Surely now we have to interrogate the Faculty and not the aboriginal kids. I mean, is this just a brother acting on his own, or are we dealing with something more sinister . . . more extensive?'

'Spot on! Let's set up a series of interviews at the college. You'll need the Headmaster's assistance 'cause I'd like a room set aside for the interviews; it's essential to do this as soon as you can. Just let me know when you're ready.'

###

The news about Bro.Simon shocked Barry; how ( _if it were true_ ) could a respectable Catholic teaching Brother, murder a little child? He'd arranged to meet Jeff at the Shearers and while waiting he mulled about the news.

That poor little girl . . . a young life snuffed out long before her time (if it were true) by a pedophile catholic brother. What could drive a respectable person to do such wrong? Although I didn't like Br. Simon, I wouldn't or couldn't believe him capable of murder, No way! However, I know it's very unlikely the aboriginal people would do such a crime. Then do I? If Bro.Simon is guilty of killing Ruthie Jalla then why wouldn't her people avenge the crime? Then how would they know Bro.Simon killed Ruth? Hmmm, I assume the cops are . . .

'Hey big fella, you look far away; what gives?'

Barry looked up to find Jeff standing by the table; he'd been so deep in thought he hadn't noticed Jeff come in.

'Aarh, just think'n about Bro.Simon's death; seems unreal. I'm having difficulty dealing with the reality of it.'

'Yeah, it's shitty! Hey, you need a refill; I'll go and get us two newbie's.'

When Jeff returned, he took a large quaff of Vic. Bitter and asked,

'Well Bazz, I'm sure you didn't ask me to meet here unless you had a good reason; I'm intrigued. C'mon out with it; have you got some secret info about the killings?'

'Nah, nothing like that Jeff, ( _slowly and cautiously_ ) I don't want to pry into your private life; you've already been very open with me, so I hope that what I have to say doesn't offend.'

'Shit Barry, you've got me worried, what's so personal that you're being so secretive?'

There was a silence as the two young men faced each other; one waiting expectantly and the other almost ashamed of what he was about to say. Then Barry leant forward and looking Jeff in the face reiterated what Billy Yorta had told him (and Gloria) at Ruth's funeral. The impact was immediate and visible. Jeff slumped back into his seat and looked completely deflated. He couldn't look Barry in the eye.

The silence continued until,

'I'm sorry Jeff; I gather it's true; what was Billy doing for you? Don't get me wrong, I'm not being judgmental; I just thought you should know in case Billy blurts it out when being interviewed.'

'Oh shit, ( _mumbling_ ) oh shit. Fuck! Oh no, that's all I need. I 'spose the whole towns gonna know I've been fucking abbo sheilas . . ., ( _looking at Barry_ ) I 'spose you're disgusted with me.'

'Me! ( _Barry started laughing_ ) If I ever tell you some of the stuff I've got up to over the years, just to get sexual relief . . . well ( _still laughing_ ) you're just a sweet little angel; but what's Billy got to do with it?'

'Before I answer that, _(taking another large gulp of beer_ ) before I answer that, try and see the predicament I was in. My marriage was foundering; it was wallowing in distrust, antipathy and dullness. Our sex life stopped and that caused me anguish 'cause I have always had a high sex drive; probably too high for me own good. Anyways, what was I to do? Eh? In a small country town, practicing infidelity is a no-no. In my desperation to find a willing sex partner, I asked Billy if he could set me up with . . . well, you know someone who wouldn't blab. I didn't . . . '

'But ( _Barry interjected_ ) you took a big risk. I mean, how old was the . . .'

'No, let me finish Bazz, wait 'till I've spat it all out; been feeling guilty about it ( _pause_ ), now where was I? Oh yeah, Billy knew about me an' Cindy so's he introduced me to one of his cousins; a girl called Rita. She was a willing partner; we'd meet in a secret place and, well . . . satisfy ourselves. Sounds pretty crude doesn't it.'

'( _with an edge in his voice)_ How old is she Jeff; you didn't say?'

'Ummm, ( _hesitantly_ ) I think about sixteen.' Barry exploded,

'( _Angrily)_ Oh, Christ almighty, she was only sixteen! Sixteen; you were having sex with an under aged kid. Jesus Jeffry, what were ya thinking? Shit! What if her parents found out; they'd kill ya?'

( _Totally embarrassed_ ) Didn't give it much thought; we . . . err, well, we were enjoying ourselves too much; pretty stupid, eh?'

'( _Exasperated_ ) Y'can say that again; _(pause_ ). How often d'ya get together; I mean when will ya see her next?'

'Ummm, I contact Billy and he'll pass the word. Why, why d'ya ask?'

'Because mon ami, you'll have to end it! _(Jeff went to protest_ ) Don't be stupid pal; the cops are all over the indigenous folks and the clergy to solve the murder of Bro.Simon. It won't take long for your little tryst to come out, unless both of you keep yer gob shut; and I mean shut tight. Ballard's warned me about getting too close to abbos; just think what the town will do to someone having a close and long-term relationship with an abbo sheila. They'll eat ya alive . . . if Cindy doesn't kill ya first. Promise me buddy; promise me you'll see this girl as soon as possible and end it.'

Jeff looked downcast but sat back with a thoughtful look; Barry could that his friend was struggling with an emotional predicament.

( _Sigh_ ) 'It's never straightforward is it; we started out enjoying just trouble-free sex but then slowly we began to have feelings for each other. I started to enjoy her company; no, more and more I began to want her company. ( _Jeff paused_ ) She's very pretty and has low expectations. What I mean is she makes me feel important; never has a cross word; never gets angry and she loves me. Truly Bazz, if I wasn't married already, I'd think serious like about marrying her. A woman like Cindy can make life miserable; always complaining; never satisfied; loves flirting with other guys and I suspect eventually being unfaithful. Sometimes I hanker for the early days of our marriage when everything was going so good; we seemed to be deeply in love and that it would last forever. Huh! What a fool I was; what a complete idiot. It was only sex and as soon as that veneer wore off, we both realized we weren't right for each other. I almost hate her, but she's still my wife and I have to live with it. . . . her.'

'Well, let's forget Cindy; you'll have to deal with her at some stage. I'm more concerned about this Rita; you can't keep the relationship going with all the cop investigation going on. I also suspect Gloria has some feelings for you, _(a wave of crimson engulfed Jeff's face)_ I don't know how deep is her feelings but I reckon she'll be a bit hurt when she finds out about the abbo chick. Geeze Jeffry, I wish I had your looks; you have three women after you. I don't know how you do it?'

Jeff slumped back in his seat and looked confused. For a while he let the silence continue.

'When you put it that way, I guess I'm lucky. I . . . I don't know Gloria that well; only when we see each other in Laurie's company. I mean, I like her and she's got a great body but . . . hey this is strange; I initially thought Gloria was a Lesbian, but apparently not!'

( _Barry interjected_ ) 'No, she certainly isn't.' And then to forestall Jeff,

'Let's get back to Rita; what're you gonna do about her?'

Long pause,

'I suppose I'll have to tell her . . . tell her we can't be together any more. Shit Bazz, she's gonna take it hard I reckon; oh Christ, why do I have to get involved and make such a mess of things. That's me isn't it . . . ( _Barry interjected forcibly),_

'Jeffry, there you go indulging in self-pity! It's not about you; it's about a young and very impressionable abbo sheila who obviously has strong feelings for you. She's the one you should be thinking about - not Jeffry Cree. Wake up buddy!'

Silence; Jeff slumped back against his seat a little off balance by Barry's outburst.

'I reckon I deserved that; you're right, I need to stop sledging meself and feeling sorry. Here's the thing ( _Jeff sat up straight and looked Barry in the eye)_ I'll do the necessary and damn the consequences. Tell me Bazz, have you been in this situation before? You haven't said much about you transplanting yerself to the country. Would you like to tell me or am I invading yer privacy. Before you answer that how's about . . .'

Seeing both their glasses near empty, Jeff stood up and headed back to the bar. It was very quiet and gloomy in the Shearers; an atmosphere that reflected Barry's innermost thoughts. When Jeff returned, Barry took a long swig of his beer and sat back up to the table. Jeff remained quiet, letting Barry tell his story at his own pace. He sat slumped back in his seat and to Jeff he was obviously struggling with some painful memories.

'Nah, it's Ok. ( _pause_ ). Her name was . . . is Wendy; we met at a Brownlow night. Although we were on separate tables, we couldn't take our eyes off each other. When we were introduced, I experienced a surge of happiness I'd never felt before. It wasn't just sexual - I actually liked her. Geeze Jeff, she sure was a stunner; dark coal-black hair framing an oval heart-shaped face. Her green eyes flashed whenever she laughed; she seemed to make you think you were the only person in the world at that time. I fell in love; head over heels.'

Barry paused and frowned as painful memories returned.

'We moved in together and it was going so well I thought seriously about making the ultimate move; it just seemed so right and I felt I was ready for family responsibility. Then one afternoon I returned early from a cancelled training session and . . , ( _long pause_ ) and I found Wendy in bed with a young guy who I subsequently identified as Cameron . . . Cameron something or other!'

'Christ _(interjected Jeff_ ) that must've been awful. Did you know the dude?'

Barry's face reflected an inner desolation, then

'Yeah, sort of. He played for another club and I remember playing against him a coupla times. But I didn't know him very well.'

'Jesus! Jeff whispered.' Oh shit, you poor bastard; what a horrible shock that must've been; _(after a pause_ ) what did you do?'

'Well I must've looked stupid 'cause I just stared at them unable to comprehend what was happening. Yeah, I was devastated. I booted the shit-head out and lashed out at Wendy. Why, why? I kept shouting, but she remained calm and laughed in me face; said she'd heard he had a big cock and wanted to try it out.'

'Oh you poor bastard, shit, I wouldn't know what to do. What did you do?'

'Well, I told her to piss off; to get outta me sight and never come near me again. I was shattered Jeff, utterly devastated; for several days I just kept to meself until I'd got me balance back. Some of my mates came round after hearing what happened and tried to cheer me up; but it took several weeks for me to recover from the shock. I can tell you Jeff, I was in a very dark place; worst I'd ever experienced.'

Jeff stared at his friend trying to understand the trauma Barry experienced; the physical torment he'd suffered.

'Jesus was this one off or had she been doing it with other guys behind your back?'

'( _Sadly_ ) no, no I didn't ask her; better to keep memories of happy times than to hear any gory details. _(There was a pause whist the two boys drained their glasses.)_ Of course, after we spit up, people took great delight in revealing what they knew about her exploits; everyone knew - except me.'

'Yea, that's what sucks! I mean you Bazz not knowing, and other people afraid of telling the truth. What happened after you broke up?'

I guess I lost it. My on field performance suffered so much that I got a warning from the coach to shape up or be dropped. He knew about my private troubles but told me to get over it . . . or else. You're the first person I've ever talked to about the beak-up. I really don't want to think about it anymore.'

Silence,

'Bazz, finding out your willing partner screwing around would unbalance anybody. I wish had your courage; I don't believe I could deal with the problem as successfully as you have. My problems are miniscule compared to what happened to you; let me get two refills.'

It's not courage Jeff; I was too numb to react. I can't begin to tell the feelings I felt; humiliation; anger; depression; shame or perhaps a large dose of all of them. Escape, I had to escape; Melbourne had too many painful memories; I had to get away - so I did.

Jeff returned with two large foaming beers; he took a sip whilst Barry drained half of his in one gulp. Before Jeff could say anything, Barry put his glass down and leaned forward on his elbows.

'Jeffry, do y'mind if we change the subject; I don't want to drag up old painful history. It's very distressing and I'm trying to put the past behind me; I've told you enough for you to understand what makes me tick. Please buddy! Let's get back to your problem; a dilemma that has to be resolved immediately. Ya can't put it off mate; you'll have to tell Rita soonest.'

'Thanks Barry, I mean thanks for sharing that personal info with me; I reckon I respect you more now that you've told me about yourself. I just can't imagine such . . .'

'Don't say any more. Not now anyway. On a lighter note, how's Laurie? I gather he's been ordered away from the investigation – or so Gloria told me.'

'Yeah, he's like the proverbial bear with a bad tooth; grouchy, nasty and just generally unpleasant. I almost doubled up with laughter the other night when we were over at his house for a BBQ; I overheard Betty Cree tell Cindy that she thought Laurie was having an affair. ( _Laughing_ ) can you imagine someone as ugly and anti-social as my brother having an affair with anyone?

'You're not serious? ( _Joining in laughing_ ) Sergeant Cree having a nookie behind Betty's back; she'd kill him wouldn't she? From what I've heard Betty Cree is one hell of a feisty bird; surely it's just women's talk?'

'Yeah, I reckon.'

'Fuck this Jeff! All this drama has made me boozy needy. I'll get some shots so we can relax a little.'

'Suits me ( _laughing_ ); let's get pissed!'

###

"What kind of sick fuck are you; why not just kill the little shit and be done with it? Hacking off his balls and shoving an abbo spear into him isn't going to achieve anything except rile everybody. Have you seen the newspaper reports? Have you? I agree he had to disappear but . . . well . . . perhaps not so dramatically; you've only made our situation worse. What about the others? Are you gonna kill everybody? I'm out of this; from here on yer on yer fuck'n own.'

'Don't give me that bullshit! You're in up to your gills just like everybody; and I didn't kill the creep. I purposely sent a message to all our friends, both at the college and elseware, that talking or threatening to talk was just not an option, unless they're prepared to suffer the consequences. As to the newspaper reports, they should convince any of our friends that we're serious. Now is the time we close ranks and try and mislead the cops so that the inquiry dies a natural death.'

'What an arrogant fuck-wit you are. This is a major crisis, and all you do is tell everyone to say nothing and the investigation will disappear. Did you know the little shit had confessed to another priest that he'd murdered the abbo kid . . . ?'

'. . . ( _Interjecting_ ) What! What're you talking about? How did you come by that piece of info?'

'Don't interrupt me arsehole! An anonymous letter arrived at the police station and went through the place like diarrhea. In the end, it was superfluous because they're waiting on the forensic report, which will definitely show that Bro.Simon was indeed the killer. Don't you understand what this means; if a priest betrays his vows of sanctity, a new dynamic has just entered the scene.'

'Shit! Shit! NO, I didn't know. Wow. Why would a priest do that? You're right; this takes the whole matter to a new level. I'm having trouble getting my head around that . . . ( _silence, then_ ) I'll have to think this through very, very carefully. . . ( _Silence again, till_ ) . . . perhaps we can create a diversion by putting heat on the Catholic Hierarchy to punish the priest; that's the only suggestion I can come up with quickly. What do you think?'

'Well, it's worth a try. But we're still left with an ongoing inquiry that's definitely not going our way; please, please promise me you'll not do anything drastic without informing me first'

'( _Sigh)_ you got it.'

###

With a copy of the forensic report in his hand, Fitzpatrick addressed the whole police station staff (including Sergeant Cree) in the duty room. He wanted to make sure that everybody knew firsthand the findings of the Medical Examiner and the forensic team.

'There's no doubt about it; it's been officially confirmed that Bro Simon of the Marist College raped and killed Ruth Jalla. ( _He waited as a low murmuring swept the room_ ). Nothing has come to light on the letter, the spear, and the butchering of the corpse; we can ignore these and concentrate on the staff at the Marist College. Someone must know something. You all know by now that a letter has been received from a local Catholic priest telling us that a priest confessed to the crime under the sanctity of the confessional. Once again this tells us that there's something very wrong involving the local catholic clergy - particularly the staff at the local college. Therefore, I want all staff interrogated and statements taken of staff activities during the last 48 hours. I will be discussing the whole police procedure with the Headmaster Bro. Dominic so that he can apprise his staff of our requirements. Any questions so far?'

A young constable from the back spoke up,

'Where do you want these interviews conducted, at the college or here at the station?'

'Definitely at the college; this will give you an opportunity to observe the daily activities of the people and get a feeling for college life. Anything; and I repeat anything, which makes you suspicious, note it down. The smallest item could be significant.'

He paused again to allow questions.

'Who do we report to – you or the Sarge?'

'To me; I'm coordinating all aspects of the investigation. Sergeant Cree has enough on his hands running the station.' This brought some wry smiles, which were noticed by Cree. Another hand went up at the back,

'If we are questioned are we allowed to report that the brother did rape and kill the abbo kid?'

'Yep, you may as well; but if you think someone is asking too many questions or questions which you think are unnecessary, report to me immediately. Remember, sometimes major cases are solved by the smallest detail.'

'Inspector ( _this time it was Gloria who spoke up_ ) are there any sensitive areas we should avoid such as church doctrine and practices which are usually denied access to lay people; I mean are there any limitations on our presence at the college?'

'Good question; the answer is absolutely not! If anyone tries to deny you access to information or prevents you from entering any area, let me know immediately; I'll sort it out.' Again from Gloria,

'What about the kids? How involved do we get with them?'

'I'll be asking the Headmaster to arrange a general assembly of all school people, both faculty and students, to tell them they must cooperate with the police enquiry. Obviously, we can't conduct interviews with kids by themselves without parents or an adult person being present; but if a child approaches you and offers information, tell me and I'll organize the appropriate supervision. Ok?'

The room fell silent until a questioner,

'So our job is to find out who killed the killer, eh?'

###

A very apprehensive Jeff sat on the grass awaiting Rita; they had often used this spot for their trysts. A small stream meandered softly through the bush and watered the grassy bank; with sunlight streaming down it made for a secluded and idyllic place to meet.

_Geez, what a beautiful place this is, with such wonderful memories. Without Rita, I would've gone gaga with frustration; why do I have to tell her we can't meet anymore. Shit, I'm only human; I need Rita. I need human contact to satisfy my sexual needs. What's wrong with that? Even now, I'm getting antsy; I haven't had a good root for over a week and I'm supposed to tell her no more? (_ Sigh) _but Barry's right; we need to cool it temporarily . . ._

'Hi, Mr. Jeff . . . yous're early! I reckon yous're look'n sexy. Times I'se gets jealous of yer clothes, ( _laughing_ ) 'cause I wish I can get close by you like dem clothes you'se wearing. Hey, Billy said that we'se gotta talk 'bout real important stuff, but how's about we'se cuddle first 'cause I been missing ya.'

Jeff looked up at Rita standing above him and once again felt that wave of desire. She wore a floral dress that clung to every female curve of her body; her breasts were full and ripe and . . . . tormenting. Her arms were bare and the short dress rising above her knees displayed the muscled symmetry of her young legs; but it was Rita's facial features that compelled him to lust. Being of mixed heritage, she had the face of an angel; her jet black eyes penetrated into Jeff's soul and her pert little nose defied the usual broad aboriginal appendage of her ancestors. Jeff's heart began to race.

Stop it!

When Rita sat down and pressed her bare leg against Jeff's leg, the contact sent a bolt of electricity through Jeff. It always started this way; Rita would take charge and work magic on Jeff's body. She also had an earthy aroma that made Jeff dizzy with desire.

Soon, a delicate brown hand began to creep up Jeff's leg, causing him to tremble with anticipation; he began to sweat and subconsciously opened his legs wide as an invitation . . .

No! No! I shouldn't let this go any further; but I want to, I need to . . . Barry, Barry, I'm sorry; I can't help myself. I don't want her to stop!

Rita expertly undressed Jeff and when that was done, she stripped herself naked. With nothing on, the shape of her alluring body made Jeff gasp with pleasure; when her hand reached his rigid cock, Jeff moaned.

'Oh man; ( _gasp_ ) Oh shit, that's sooo good. Don't stop Rita; ( _whisper_ ) I love you doing that; ( _intake of breath_ ) Oh man!'

As she expertly stroked his rock hard penis, Jeff could feel himself rising towards climax too soon; his need to enter her became overwhelming.

'( _Softly_ ) Rita, I'm gett'n close; you'se gonna make me 'splode! Can I get inside you now? . . . Quick.'

This was all that Rita needed; she was wet with anticipation and layback with her legs open, exposing her throbbing vulva. Jeff needed no urging and soon he was deep inside her. Their coupling did not last long because Jeff was too sexually excited. His frantic movement increased and he thrust harder and harder until, as ecstatic shudders convulsed his entire body, he climaxed with a long and euphoric deep moan. He continued thrusting until Rita climaxed with a girlie squeal.

When she'd finished, Jeff put his arms around Rita and they lay there on their stomachs enjoying the afterglow of their orgasms. There was absolute silence except for the musical chirping of birds and rustling in the undergrowth. Jeff could hear the pleasant tinkling of the stream as it meandered through the glen; dappled sunlight made ever-changing patters as a breeze moved gently through the trees. He rolled over and propped on one elbow, ran his hand along the satiny brown skin of his companion.

_She's so beautiful . . . and so vulnerable. I don't want to hurt her (_ sigh _) but I must talk with her._

'What did you'se want to talk t'me about? Billy said it was 'portant. What ya want t' say?'

Jeff had rolled over and now lay facing Rita on his side and supported by his elbow. He began to struggle with the right words to answer her.

'I guess you know about Ruth's killer being found dead with his confession alongside him.'

'Yeah . . . I knows. I also knows that the bludger who killed that parasite shoved an abbo spear through his gut to try and put the blame on us. What a fucker. Him dat did it knows nothing 'bout us blackfellas. Anyway, what's dat to do with us? Ya don't think we'se done it do yer . . . Do yer?'

'No! No; of course I don't! However, the investigation is heating up. I've heard that all the teachers at the school are going to be interviewed . . . interrogated; they may start interviewing students and their families too. If they want to interview you, tell them you must have one of your parents and a rep. of the Aboriginal Legal office with you at the interview. Promise me, Rita. Promise me!'

'Alright, alright; keep yer socks on. I hears ya! Dat's ok, but what dat got to do wid you'se and me?'

Oh fuck!

'I was talking to Barry . . .'

'Hey, dat Mr. Barry he's a good fella. We'se made 'im part of our clan. Did you'se know dat? T'me he's a god. I even offered to get one of the others girls to give 'im a blow job but him didn't want one.'

'. . . ( _ignoring Rita_ ) talking to Barry and he reckons we maybe shouldn't see each other for a while.' All of a sudden, Rita sat up with a frightened look on her face. Jeff could see the beginning of panic in her features.

'Don't understand; we don't sees each other 'cept here when we do the sex. Ain't any one sees us here?'

Shit! Shit! Shit!

'It's too dangerous Rita; even the kids have to stop doing sex favors for money. The cops are in an angry mood; I heard my brother . . .'

'Yer brother's a fuck wit! He ain't that rosy either; and the udder kids need the dough for the mums and dads to spend. Ya can't ask 'em to stop!'

'Geez let me finish. I heard my brother say that everyone's under suspicion until the investigation team clears them. So if word got out that you and I were . . . well fucking, it would cause everyone problems. Rita, your only sixteen and what we do together is not legal.'

'Fuck 'em; I knows what I want. I want you Mr. Jeff and no shitty copper is gonna tell me different.'

'And there's my wife; how do ya think she's gonna take it if she finds out we've been fucking. Huh?'

'Dat's her problem. I ain't gonna lose any sleep over her. Maybe old Pangari can put a hex on 'er so's she just disappear. I'll talk to 'im.'

'Don't, ( _laughing_ ) don't you dare do that. Shit, Rita I want you to take this seriously. We've got to stop seeing each other.'

Suddenly, Rita understood that Jeff was serious; her eyes began to fill with tears and started flowing down both cheeks.

'What . . . what you'se saying; ya don't want t'see no more? Why! Why! What's I done? Ya don't like me no more; is it 'cause I'se black? ( _Sob_ ) is it. I never said dis b'fore but I love ya Mr. Jeff. I love ya ( _sob_ ). An don't give me shit 'bout being too young; I knows how I feel.'

'Geez Rita . . .'

'Geez Rita nuth'n! What you think I can do; just say bye, bye ( _sob_ ) and walk away and never see you'se again? Can't do dat. Rita can't do dat. Rita's got the very bad hots for you Mr. Jeff and I ain't gonna walk away . . .I ain't just gonna disappear. ( _Softly_ ) anyways, I can't; ( _pause_ ) I'se had no women's flow for the past two months. I reckon I'se carrying a little one, an it be yours Mr.Jeff; 'hain't been wid no one's but you!'

Oh my god!

'And 'nother thing. I knows ya don't love me. I knows dat and it don't worry me any; just enuff for Rita to see you and be wid you. Dat's all I wants. I would never do anything to hurt you Mr. Jeff; so please don't hurt me. Please ( _sob_ ) Mr. Jeff.

'You . . . you're pregnant? ( _Sounding alarmed_ ). Are you sure? There can't be any mistake?

'Nah, I reckon I'se preggo all right; I reckon I'se having a boy baby. Just feels like it.'

How can this be? The quack told me I didn't have enough little wrigglers to get a woman preggo. How can this be? How is it I can get Rita preggo but not Cindy? Geeze, wait till I see that arsehole doctor. But . . . its good news isn't it? I can have kids! Oh, wow!

'Why's yer gone quiet like? You'se think'n how to get rid of me isn't ya. I done care, I'se gunna have me baby whatever you'se decides. I told ya, I loves ya didn't I; an' having yer baby is enough for me, 'cause I'se proud to have yer kid Mr. Jeff; like I said . . . proud.'

Oh, shit, shit, shit! Now I'm squarely in the shit. What can I do? I'm married to the Cindy bitch and having a baby by Rita. If me life wasn't a mess 'fore its gone pear-shaped now. Oh, fuck! But hey, a part of me feels good. I'm gonna become a father. Hey . . . I reckon that'll be good, to be a dad . . . to have a son. Wow! Could it be possible to have Rita as my partner? I have to admit that I would enjoy life better with Rita. I just can't live up to Cindy's expectations, and I'll always fall short of her demands; there will always be unhappiness. Rita is different; her culture puts the man first and shares in his good times and bad. Of course . . .

'Rita, ( _tenderly_ ) please stop calling me Mr.Jeff; just call me Jeff. ( _Pause_ ) Yer wrong, I wasn't think'n of dumping you; thing is, I reckon I've got strong feelings for you, and I'm real happy 'bout the baby . . . real happy. Been think'n I ain't got any future with Cindy; she always messes with me head and makes me unhappy. That's not gonna change; I guess it'll just get worse. D'ya reckon that you and I could be happy together. I mean what about yer folks, how would they take to me an' you being together?

'D'ya mean it? D'ya want to be my mula, my man? Please don't say sumfin yer don't mean; If yer just feel dat you'se gotta support me, I won't have nuth'n to do with it. I'll look after meself and the baby; the whole family will help. I'd rather ya just piss off than tell me lies. D'ya hears me Jeff; don't talk fuck'n crap t'me. I won't have it.'

'Geez Rita, will ya give me a break. I'm saying in me own stupid way that I would rather spend me life with you than with Cynthia. I mean that! But there's a lot to consider right now; what we'se talking about is heavy. I got t' think about a whole mess of things. You need time t'think too; ma'be talk to yer mum and see what she thinks about us getting t'gether. But don't tell anyone else . . . promise me ( _Rita nodded vigorously_ ); we'll just keep this between us for the moment. Oh geeze, we're getting too heavy; come here sexy and give me a big hug.'

After another exhaustive bout of lovemaking, Rita reluctantly went home leaving Jeffry sitting by himself. His mind was in turmoil.

_If I looked at me life so far, I'd have to say it's been a bloody messy failure. Cindy an' I are finished . . . if we ever really started. Sure, we had good sex but there never was any love. I reckon I've never felt for Cindy the way I feel for Rita. I mean Cindy's probably a better looker but she's shallow, superficial, petty and aggressive. I don't want to spend the rest of my life fighting with her. Yeah, I've had enough. I like the thought of comin' home to Rita and a young'un every day, to be happy and loved. Geeze, that'll be good! I suppose the white folks will sledge me for marrying . . .; marrying? Would Rita and I get married? Hmmmm, best leave that be for now. (_ Sigh _)Yeah, Jeffry ol' son, yer making it all sound too good an' easy; there's a lot of think'n still to be done, before ya can make any decision. But Cindy's a big problem . . . being a strict catholic, she won't divorce me just 'cause I ask her to. Oh shit, shit, shit! This is a mess! What am I doing?_

###

Barry leaned back in his seat and stared at Jeff; his usual pleasure at seeing him replaced by a growing anger. He let the silence grow until,

'So, you met with her this afternoon to tell her that you can't see her anymore and it ended up with Rita becoming more emotionally and physically attached to you. Have I got that right? . . . Oh, ( _angrily_ ) I forgot, she's preggo, and you had sex with her again.'

Jeff sat slumped back in his seat, a half empty beer in front of him and looking ( _and sounding_ ) miserable. He'd asked Barry to meet at the 'Shearers', thinking that Barry might sympathize with him; instead Barry became angry.

'Please Bazz, don't get angry with me. If you were there, you'd appreciate the position I was in. When she told me about the baby, I felt real good. I kinda liked the idea of becoming a father, me Jeffry Cree, a dad! I knew I had strong feelings for Rita; she's tender, caring, affectionate and loving. In short, she's everything that Cindy is not. I'm starting to understand I can have a happy life with Rita . . . and the fact that she's an abbo doesn't faze me at all. In many ways, our abbo brothers are much better than we white folks. Believe me Bazz, marriage to Rita would be heaven compared to my present predicament. I was hoping you'd give me your blessing.'

Barry leaned forward and stared hard at Jeff.

'Give you my blessing? ( _Raising his voice_ )You want me to give you my blessing? Shit Jeff, you've gotten a sixteen year old abbo sheila up the duff, and you want me to give you my blessing. ( _Angry_ ) buddy, you'll probably end up doing hard time with half the prison inmates wanting to rape you! There's no happy endings Jeffry- none at all. I can't believe I'm sitting here listening to this crap; I don't understand you! Well, I'm not gonna listen to any more shit from you; ya got yerself into this mess, so it's up to you to get yerself out. It's your problem buddy, not mine.'

With that, Barry got up to leave but Jeffry cried out,

'Please Bazz don't go. What you say is true; shit, shit, shit. Please, please sit down. ( _Barry hesitated then sat back down)_.

Silence, then

'You're absolutely right. I'm not thinking straight . . .'

'You ( _exasperated_ ) never do.'

' . . . I'll tell Rita that we'll have to stop seeing each other until this murder investigation ends. She's promised to not tell anyone about the baby . . .'

'Do ya reckon she'll keep her gob shut?'

'Yeah I do Bazz, she promised and I know she'll keep quiet. But when she starts showing the kid, we'll have to tell folks; hopefully by then the crisis will have passed.'

'For your sake yeah, I hope you're right.'

Jeff looked Barry straight in the eye, whilst holding on to his near empty glass.

'But I do love her Bazza; when this is crisis ends, I'll talk to her about setting up.'

'Oh yeah, what about Cindy? I'd love to be a fly on the wall when you tell her you're movin' in with an abbo chick and that yer gonna have a baby. Oh boy, that's a meeting I'd like to witness.'

'Yeah well, I'm dreading the scene already. But hey, I'm empty; let's get refills and forget my sleazy problems.'

Jeff scurried away to the bar. A moment's respite.

The trouble with Jeff is that he's too good; he just wants to please everybody and can't abide the thought of hurting anybody. I suppose this could be a positive character trait; he just wants to be nice to everybody . . . and that's virtually impossible. If only he could learn to balance the need to help others with a little constructive cruelty . . .'

When Jeff returned with two full glasses, Barry decided to confront his friend.

'Mate, ( _taking a swig_ ) how're you gonna extract yourself from this mess. I've just been thinking that you're too nice; that's the real problem, you're just too nice. That in itself may be a credit to you, but it leaves you very vulnerable to other people taking advantage of you. You seem to be comfortable with the role of victim . . . and that's unhealthy; Harmful even.'

'Is that the way you see me Barry; that I see myself as a victim?

Yes! You seem to relish the role of victim; consider this . . . by not wishing to hurt other people you only end up hurting yourself. You've got to think more selfishly Jeff; if you don't you'll end up a slave to everyone else's moods.'

'Shit! I hadn't looked at my life that way. (Barry _noticed that Jeff was sitting up adopting a more aggressive posture)_ Yeah, what you say is true. Fuck! I've been a patsy haven't I? How come you're so knowledgeable; how come?'

'Well, when I was younger I was a lot like you. I just wanted to please everybody; I became very passive in outlook. Then I quickly found out that when playing footy, if you allow anybody to sledge you, both verbally and physically, they gain the upper hand. I learned to give back as good as I got and then relished the respect that others gave me. I also gained a lot of self-respect; and that's important. So I started to become more assertive in my dealings with other people.'

'Yeah ( _sounding wistful_ ) you were lucky that footy helped you. I've been cocooned all my life and, as a result, ended up feeling sorry for meself.'

'Jeff . . . Jeffry, why don't you just try being yourself. But practice saying 'no' to yourself and other people. Now ( _getting up and finishing his beer_ ) it's getting late and I must go. Are you coming?'

###

'I still find it hard to believe ( _taking a sip of tea_ ) . . . Bro.Simon, a child rapist turned killer. I knew him Peter; we played chess together. He never said anything to arouse my suspicions; outwardly, he was a decent bloke. What compels a man of devotional orders to commit such a crime? When I read the newspaper report, I felt sick. Have you ever experienced anything like this before?'

'No, ( _sadly_ ) no I haven't. It just beggars belief. Poor Bro.Dominic; it must be devastating to learn that one of his brothers committed such a horrendous crime. ( _Silence; except for Peter O'Brien stirring his tea)_ I know him well . . . in fact very well. He's a gentle, inoffensive man who's just had his whole world come crashing around his ears.'

'Peter it's in your nature to be forgiving, but he's the Headmaster; he should have known something was amiss. If you're so sure he wouldn't allow this cancer in the college, it still doesn't absolve him from being ignorant! After all, it's the duty of every school principal to know what's going on with both teachers and children under his care.'

'That's true, but I suspect ( _getting angry_ ) he's been pushed aside by a very aggressive person in the form of Bro.Michael. He'd do anything to discredit Bro.Dominic so that he could become the Principal.'

'Politics, politics! Even our own church can't avoid the ambitions of ambitious men. Do you still believe you did the right thing in sending that anonymous letter?'

'( _Thoughtfully_ ) I think I did. I mean if ever we were to face a tribunal or a court of law, we can say honestly that we didn't withhold evidence; and just to forestall you, it was a decision taken by both of us which means that you can claim you didn't withhold evidence.'

'But . . .'

'No buts; that's the way it's going to be. As the parish priest, I deem it so!'

'Ok . . . thanks. Do you think they'll be interrogating all the parishes in our area?

'Who ( _sighing_ ) knows?'

###

'Hi . . . I am Detective Inspector Tom Fitzpatrick ( _showing his badge_ ) and this is Senior Constable Meadows ( _displaying her badge);_ could we see the Headmaster please?'

'People usually make an appointment to see Bro.Dominic; he's a very busy man. Now let's see . . . umm, would tomorrow at eleven thirty be convenient; he'll be free for an hour. Is that suitable?'

'No, no it isn't Ms. . . ( _Reading her name tag_ ) Flynn. We're here on police business and we'll see him . . . now!'

'You're very rude! I don't care what business you're on, you have to fit into the Headmaster's schedule. People – including the police – can't just go bursting into the Principals office without an appointment! Do I make myself clear?'

'Let me ( _ignoring her outburst_ ) put it this way; everyone at this college is a suspect in the death of Bro.Simon . . . and that includes you, Ms. Flynn. Now, ( _signaling Gloria to follow_ ) just announce me and then . . . shut up!'

The redoubtable Ms. Flynn folded like a stack of cards and ( _clearly shaken_ ) announced on her intercom that the police were here to talk. Almost inaudibly, she said,

'Please go through, he's waiting.'

The Headmasters office was dour; with emphasis on dark furniture and very few adornments. It exuded a peculiar musky smell of old books and old furniture. On one wall was the obligatory photo of the current Pope and on another the awful spectacle of a young man nailed to a piece of wood. Gloria could easily imagine the impact on a young kid punished for undisciplined behavior. Bro. Dominic fitted the profile of a catholic Headmaster; small of stature, skinny and bespeckled, with a face that couldn't remember the last time it had smiled.

Taking the intuitive, Fitzpatrick addressed Bro. Dominic.

'This is just a courtesy visit sir, to let you know that we'll be conducting interviews and asking questions about the death of Bro.Simon. But first, we need all staff members, including you and your secretary, to make written statements about your movements within the last 48 hours. Senior Constable Meadows will explain to everybody what is required; if you could assemble your people, she will explain what we want. Completed statements should be handed to her within the next six hours.'

He waited for some response from the Headmaster, and getting none continued,

'Once all statements have been received, we will hold any further interviews we deem necessary here at the college, and it would be appreciated if you could make a room available to us. I hope this doesn't cause too much of an inconvenience!'

'Of course it does! The college is in enough turmoil without the heavy tread of police through our corridors. Why do you want to interrogate me? I don't know anything about Bro.Simon's death nor his evil and secretive practices, why me?'

'Because sometimes people unwittingly carry information without knowing it is important; in your case you may not know if information is significant. Only our trained police staff can decide what's critical and what isn't. Of course you may have a legal representative with you at the interview to look after your personal legal position.'

'I ( _exploding_ ) certainly will not! I have nothing to hide and will answer any reasonable question without recourse to legal advice. How dare you!'

'Well, that's up to you sir, I'm only apprising you of your rights; ( _handing Bro. Dominic a list)_ here is a list of persons we may want to interview . . . can you have your secretary inform each one of their need to co-operate with us during the enquiry.'

'Yes, yes of course. Just leave the list with Ms. Flynn and she'll make the appropriate arrangements.'

Silence descended; Fitzpatrick stared thoughtfully at the Headmaster whilst he, in turn, glared at the Inspector.

'Tell me what you know about Bro.Simon's background; his habits and any good or bad observations you've made about him. After all he was your subordinate so you must've formed some opinion of him as a person.'

'Are you interrogating me? Is this where I say that I want a solicitor?'

'( _laughing_ ) No sir; I just wanted to get some indication, off the record, of your opinion of the brother. Was he popular; did he have many friends; what were his interests; that sort of thing?'

'Well, ( _becoming thoughtful_ ) he was very good academically; he came out of the seminary with very good grades. However, he didn't make many friends; Oh, he had acquaintances but nobody you could say was a friend . . . he kept very much to himself. But he was a very strict catholic; I know he had a falling out with Mr. Thompson. They had a serious argument that all the college knew about . . .'

'And all the time ( _Gloria interjected_ ) he was planning to rape and murder a little girl! Is that what is called a strict catholic?'

'No; you're right to be angry. I have to say I'm devastated by what's happened; never in my whole career as a clergyman or as a teacher have I had to confront something like this. How could I have been so blind; how could I have been so trusting . . .'

_Or_ (thought Julia) _how could you be so stupid!_

'Don't be so hard on yourself sir. As a detective, my experience has told me that often the people close to the perpetrator are the ones shocked when the truth comes out. Try not to distress.'

'I'll try, I'll try. Anyway, I'll make the appropriate arrangements, as you require. When do you intend to interview me?'

'Let's get all the statements in first; we'll probably talk to you towards the end when we have a more complete picture. But sir, try not to distress yourself; you're definitely not a suspect.'

###

Cynthia stared at the test gadget and the two parallel pink lines for the third time; there was no doubt about it . . . she was pregnant! She'd missed one monthly flow and her suspicion now became certainty. She sat on the toilet seat trying to get focus on her predicament; it was a very grim dilemma. She and Jeff had not had sex for several months, so she was able to rule him out as the father; but could she persuade Jeff that he was the father?

Hey girl, stop procrastinating; you know who the father is. Well it could only be him, 'cause he's the only one that I've been screwing, regular like. Geeze, a kid; me pregnant. Shit! Fuck, this is a disaster; I don't want a kid right now - not prepared. Get an abortion; that's the only way out, but I'll have to tell the father, he's gotta be part of a decision like this. No, I can't; I haven't been a practicing Catholic for some time, but I'd still feel guilty if I had a termination. I can't destroy a life that's growing inside me; I'd never forgive myself. Oh, it's a fine pickle you're in girl, me, a mum.

### Chapter Seven

The Investigation team was frustrated and stymied. All pertinent statements had been received, then perused and then double-checked, but nothing significant had been found. No lies detected; no new evidence and no new leads. All the college clergy had demonstrated a healthy (or unhealthy) respect for Bro. Michael; he, not Bro. Dominic, was the dominant force at the college. The forensic report simply confirmed the cause of death and didn't establish any new clues. With no foreign DNA found on or around the corpse of Bro.Simon, they were staring at a dead end.

In a fit of frustration, Fitzpatrick hurled the forensic report against the wall. Gloria flinched as the document sailed over her head on its journey of frustration.

'Shit, fuck, damn! I know we're missing something. This is all too tidy; too clean. From my past experience perps always make an error, something usually insignificant. Believe me Gloria, there is no such thing as a perfect crime; any thoughts?'

'No, not really. But Bro.Peter intrigues me; when I interviewed him he was extremely uncomfortable, scared even. My cop's intuition tells me he's withholding something; something he wanted to tell but was afraid. I'd like to interview him again, if you agree.'

'Yeah . . . go for it. We have to start back at square one anyway and go over all we've got. Sometimes it works; sometimes not, but we have to try. I'm gonna send the forensic report back and ask them to start afresh. I think I'll light a candle in the chapel to see if the Catholic God can give us a heads up!'

'Shit ( _laughing_ ) Tom, you're really getting desperate!'

###

'( _Unsteady voice_ ) Forgive me father for I have sinned. My last confession was two weeks ago.'

Fa.James was roused from his drowsy state when he heard the shaky voice of the penitent. It had been a boring afternoon session; in fact only one other had graced the confessional all afternoon. He was about to ask the conventional question when the repentant continued,

'Father I'm scared, very scared. I'm scared for my very life and most importantly, for my immortal soul. I've done some awfully wicked things father and I think I'm about to be exposed. I'm frightened . . . !'

'Please ( _interrupting_ ); please confess your sins then we can have a talk. If you make a full and complete confession, you'll be free of mortal sin; but you must confess everything. Understand?'

'Yes father I do. I . . . I'm . . . a teacher at a local Marist Brothers college and for some time I've been havi . . . Ummm . . . paying for sex with local aboriginals. I can't help myself father ( _stifled sob_ ). . . I've tried, but my lust always wins out; I have a terrible need for sexual relief. Usually ( _choke_ ) . . . I commit the sin of self-abuse to satisfy my cravings; then soon after, I feel the overwhelming need for company. By company, I mean abbo girls. I don't do any harm and I know the kids parents are in need of the money I give them.'

Fa.James stayed silent whilst the penitent steeled himself to continue; then,

'I reckon I know who killed Bro.Simon and I'm scared I'm going to be next. Also, ( _stifled sob_ ) I have information on a ring of pedophiles who operate here in town and within the whole country. Some very important . . .'

'Are you ( _Fa.James interrupted_ ) telling me that influential people here in town are not only involved but coordinating these disgraceful activities?'

'Yes, yes I am! That's why my life is forfeit. I feel it's only a matter of time before the fate that befell Bro.Simon is also visited on me. I really need help father; can you help me?'

'All I can do is make an Act of Contrition with you, but for your penance you must . . . and I repeat must, go to the police and ask for protection. I will only give you absolution on the understanding that you'll give yourself up and tell the police everything you know. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes . . . yes father, and thank you; I know you're right. I'll tell the police everything.'

'Good; now repeat after me . . . _'Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all of my sins because . . ._

###

Leaving the confessional Fa.James encountered Fa. O'Brien who was looking puzzled.

'I believe that was Bro.Peter from the Marist College who you just heard in confession. I hope it wasn't anything too serious; he's my bridge partner, and a bloody good one at that.'

'You know him?'

'Well yes; I've known Peter for some time. Is something wrong?'

'Oh ( _sounding upset_ ) shit! Yes, there is something wrong; very wrong. Come, I'll make you a cup of tea. Stuff the sanctity of confession; it wasn't designed for the mess I'm in. And I'm sorry for the crude language Peter, but I've really had a gutful!'

They adjourned to the kitchen and while James was making tea he told Fa. O'Brien the full story.

There followed silence. Fa.James stood by the sink holding a steaming cup of tea, whilst Fa. O'Brien ( _shaking his head sadly_ ) slowly stirred his teacup.

'James, this must go no further; we've . . . I've already sullied the sanctity of the confessional. I guess I rationalized that because we were dealing with a confessed killer. This is different; the only crime committed was having sex with under aged kids. I don't think . . .'

'No, ( _speaking harshly_ ) Peter that's not true! We're consciously withholding evidence from the authorities. Didn't our Lord say 'Give unto Caesar the things that are Caesars' and give to our father the things that belong to him'; I may not be doctrinally correct, but the intent is clear ( _Fa.O'Brien went to interrupt_ ) . . . no, please Peter let me finish. You also have to consider your own situation. As Bro.Peter is an acquaintance of yours, you could be charged with withholding evidence to protect him. You're in a tight spot, Peter.'

With a sigh Fa.O'Brien acknowledged,

'Ok, Ok, you're absolutely right; bugger what a mess. I'm finding it hard to believe that Bro.Peter is a pedophile, ( _Sweet Jesus_ _what a mess_ ). Well hotshot, what do you propose?'

'Well, I did give him absolution on the premise that he'd go straight to the police and confess his involvement. I'm going to wait to see if he does what he promised; I'll give him forty-eight hours. If we've heard nothing, I'll go straight to the man and give him a choice; either he goes to the police or I will.'

Peter O'Brien sat slumped back in his chair and seemed entirely deflated.

'You know James, sometimes I find the strictures of our faith too demanding. I mean what would be wrong if Bro Peter were to have a partner . . . a female or even a male partner if he so desires. What harm would it do? Why can't we indulge our sexuality with a consenting partner?'

'Peter, you astound me . . . you really do. It's my generation of clerics who are agitating for reform – not yours. Do I detect a story behind your statement?'

'Ah yes, ( _looking and sounding wistful_ ) there was a lass once who I really had a yen for; I was only twenty-two at the time. But I experienced real passion; the sight of her . . . her name was Helen . . . the sight of her would drive me into tender, loving carnal, caring, lustful ( _Fa.James at this point was laughing_ _at the prospect_ ) and scandalous fantasies. ( _A pause as he remembered tender memories_ ) I determined to marry Helen but unfortunately her father . . . and in fact her whole family . . . were Baptists; Baptists who hated the Roman Catholic Church and therefore me. Of course my own church would not have let me marry her unless she became a Catholic and brought up our kids as Catholics. As the saying goes 'we were up shit creek without a paddle.'

'Peter ( _intrigued_ ) why haven't you said anything about this before. It's proud you should be to have real human feelings. And I'm thinking that you were a bit stodgy.'

'Well, ( _laughing_ ) I don't like to dig up the past; sometimes the memories are a bit raw. What about yourself . . .'

'No ( _also laughing_ ) you don't get out of it that easily; what happened to . . . Helen? Did she marry a boring old Baptist?'

'Yes, ( _sighing_ ) yes she did. And she had three fine kids . . . and an unhappy marriage. He turned out to be someone who definitely did not practice what they preached. He played around; used prostitutes and contacted venereal disease. The marriage was dissolved after fifteen years; eventually I think he went insane. However, what was distressing, the family blamed Helen for not seeing to her wifely duties, which made . . . what was his name? Ummm . . . yes . . . Daniel; made Daniel look for sex elseware. People never cease to astound me.'

'Arrrrh, isn't that the truth; did ( _sounding embarrassed_ ) . . . did you get to 'know' her in the biblical sense?'

'C'mon James, ( _laughing at him_ ) there's no need to be coy; you're asking if we screwed, and yes we did . . . it was wonderful. I can still remember the experience.'

'So then ( _curious_ ) why did you become a priest? What appealed to you about the priesthood?'

'I suppose in a way I was a coward. After having my feelings damaged by Helen, I just vowed never to repeat the same circumstances. Taking a vow of celibacy appealed to me; and at the same time I was a strict catholic so it all fell into place. It seems so puerile now. I've often asked myself what would I prefer most, to be a priest or to be a family man. Never came up with a good answer.'

'Well, funnily enough, I was about to ask that very same question. So you don't know what you'd prefer?'

'Well, the grand thing about being a priest is that you don't expose yourself emotionally, not to personal emotions anyway. Just from the confessional I hear terrible stories of married life; infidelity, physical abuse, financial woes and substance abuse. How some marriages survive in this age is a wonder. Now ( _enquiring_ ) young man . . . now that I've exposed myself to your forensic emotional dissection, how about you. How come you to the priesthood?'

'Arrrrh, there'll be a grand tale for you. My family were poor farmers in Co.Wexford. Our family was big; four brothers and three girls. I was never interested in girls as such, and I vowed not to take the same path as me Dar; I saw too much suffering. Oh Peter, the way my folks had to struggle just to feed, clothe and educate us, still brings tears t' me eyes. Then ( _sounding_ _sad_ ) me Mar died, and it became too much for m' Dar. He really tried to look after all of us but it was too much, so I went into the seminary.'

'Sooo . . . what brought you here to this fair town? We're a long way from Co.Wexford.'

'I heard there was a shortage of priests in country areas, so I left Ireland and settled here; and before you ask do I miss the family, yes . . . yes I do. I write to me Dar often and on special occasions; Christmas, Birthdays and so, I'll call them up. I try and send money regularly because I know how difficult it is with a large family. Sometimes I get cranky with our faith when we urge couples to have large families but don't do anything to ease the financial burden.'

'So what do you value most in being a priest?'

'I guess being more of a social worker than a mender of souls. I love people, especially kids; at times they can be pure delight. They are so innocent and trusting; that's why I abhor people who abuse kids physically and sexually. Of all crimes the abuse of children ranks just below murder in revulsion; and when the perpetrators are the kids own parents well . . . well, it's disgusting.'

'Yes ( _sighing_ ) yes I agree. But we can't blame modern living for these detesting excesses; child abuse has been around for a long, long time. What about the use of child labor during the industrial revolution in England in the eighteenth century.'

'Please ( _laughing_ ) don't get me to talk about the excesses of Mother England; I might break into some rather poignant IRA songs. But we've got sidetracked; what are we gonna do about Bro.Peter?'

( _Sighing_ ) I don't know James, I really don't know; for the time being I s'pose just wait and see what happens.'

Wonder what he meant by never being interested in girls? When the time comes I'll broach the subject with him.

###

Barry had resumed coaching Billy at footy; despite Jeff's problems and all the troubles at the college, it seemed like a sensible thing to do. He wondered if Billy new about Jeff and Rita, because at school he was acting distracted and often surly. As the practice session ended, they were walking towards the showers when Barry confronted Billy,

'Hey man, you haven't been your old sunny self of late; I miss your beautiful smiles. Mind if we have a talk?'

On reaching the shower block, Barry said,

'Hey, let's sit here and yarn b'fore we shower.'

Barry led Billy to a bench and patted the space beside him and when Billy sat, he half turned towards the boy.

'Billy, _(here Barry looked directly at Billy who then cast his eyes downward_ ) I'm thrilled the way you've improved at training; you must be feeling more confident now than when we first started. But footy training involves both physical and mental conditioning. When you go out to play a big match, you have to clear your mind of all negative thoughts so you can concentrate on the game ahead; and I don't mean the whole match, I mean quarter by quarter.'

'Yeah, ( _looking at Barry directly_ ) I knows that Mr. Barry . . . I knows that, ( _pause_ ) but I'se worried 'bout dis copper thing; I'se the one who's been fixing our girls up with dem hippos . . . yeah and some of the young boys too. I'se feared dey gonna throw me black arse into jail. I won't last Mr. Bazz; dey'll rape me and skin me dead. I'se frightened, real scared.'

'Billy, you know what you're doing is wrong, very wrong. You're not stupid; you know it's wrong so why do you do it?'

'Cause we needs the money; all us blackies need der money. What we get goes to our folks so dey can have a little bit of der white man's world. Y'know; TV's, washing machines, fridges and such. We'se got no other way to pay for such t'ings.'

'You're telling me your folks agree with what yer doin'? Don't they know it's against white man's law; it's wrong to corrupt young kids sexually. They can become damaged for life, so I'm telling you it's gotta stop!'

'Dat's not gonna happen! ( _Billy looked aggressively at Barry)_ I make sure the kids are OK; If'n any of dem hippos hard our kids we'se got ways t' deal with dem. If'n dey harm once we make sure dey never touch a kid no more.'

'But Billy . . .'

'No, I'se not finished. Our culture is not like yours; we have sex much younger than you'se do an we don't make it a crime and punish kids. As long as dey want to do the sex an' no harm comes, we'se cool. It's you whities dat's got the problem . . . not us. We just don't want you'se to interfere.'

'Billy, it's not that simple; I reckon you should go walkabout for a while 'till this all settles down. I'm not just your teacher mate; I'm also your friend. I'm giving you good advice.'

'ppreciate dat . . . I really do Mr. Bazz, but I'se goin' nowhere.

###

When Billy left, Barry just sat and thought over the conversation.

_Well, perhaps we don't understand abbo culture and maybe it's ok for young kids to have sex as long as they consent. However, they still have to deal with white man's laws and what Billy and the kids are doing is plainly wrong . . . in our eyes. There must be a way to shield him from prosecution. I agree that if he goes to jail, he wouldn't last long; it's a death sentence_.

So deep in thought about Billy and his problems, he didn't notice Bro.Michael approach, until

'Well, ( _sneering_ ) if it isn't our great footy star sitting all alone and pondering . . . what? ( _Laughing_ ) how to fondle little boys in the shower?'

Everybody also has a threshold of tolerance to insults and Barry had reached his. He stood up, took three steps towards Bro.Michael, and slammed his fist into his sneering face. The force sent the Brother onto his back howling with pain from a broken nose and cut lips.

Nursing his bloody face, Bro.Michael managed,

'You bastard . . . I'll get you for this!'

'You are a bloody disgrace to your vocation; a bloody disgrace to this school; and a bloody disgrace as a human being. If you want to report me . . . go ahead; believe me it'll be worth it!

But the fight with Bro. Mike had steeled Barry's resolve. He reached into his gym bag and pulled out his mobile.

###

'I'm intrigued, what's all the urgency about? You know I enjoy the Shearers but I don't usually start boozing this early. What's so important Barry that you had to see me right away; am I in trouble?'

'Not you Jeff, but I think Billy's gunna get burned; he's heading into a whole heap of shit.'

'Why, what's he done? He hasn't been screwing minors; he's just a young abbo kid look'n after the abbo sheilas. I don't see . . .'

'Hell, look at it from the cops perspective, it could be argued that he pimped for the young kids an' that's a serious charge. You an' I both know that all the money went to the tribes oldies; he presumably didn't get a red cent. I mean, did you pay him anything to meet Rita . . .'

'NO! I didn't an' I resent you implying that! All you need to know, we met at the local dance. Leave Rita outta this; I won't have her dragged into this fuck'n mess; cool it Barry!'

'Hey don't go an' get uppity with me buddy; I'm only trying to look at the, as you say, fuck'n mess from the cops standpoint. I don't want to involve anybody in this, not you, not Rita and definitely not Billy. What we should be concentrating on is the bloody churchies having sex with underage kids and the whole thing being manipulated by the College and the, I suspect, local cops.'

'Ok, Ok; I'm just very protective about Rita right now. Do you really think Billy is in danger?'

'Yeh, I do. If they charge him and send him to jail, it'll kill him. Abbos can't stand confinement, but for Billy his future looks grim. No AFL club will select him if he gets a prison sentence. That would be unfortunate, 'cause the lad's got a great footy career ahead of him.'

'I'm sorry Bazz, but what d'ya want from me, not much I can do?'

'Just needed to talk and perhaps get a new input into the problem; that's why I called you.'

'Ok, I get the picture now; I reckon Billy's lucky to have you look'n out for him. But it seems buddy you've become too negative . . .'

'What do . . . ?'

'No, pay attention, let me finish. You've already found Billy guilty and want to stop him from going to jail. But what if Billy's a victim, not a perpetrator; what if he's simply a bystander with no criminal intent? After all, the matter is between the kids, the parents and the churchies themselves. Consider this, if Billy wasn't around, the exploitation would still go on, wouldn't it? ( _Barry reluctantly nodded yes)_. So I say, find some way to make Billy a victim and your concerns disappear.'

'And how do you propose to make him become a victim? He's become the 'go to' guy whenever a rendezvous is proposed.'

'Geez Barry, you can be heavy sometimes, don't be so gloomy; Billy's just there to protect the young kids. He can't stop the exploitation, you've admitted that yourself.'

Barry circled his beer glass on the counter top leaving a wet ring. After taking a swig, he responded,

'You know, you're right. I haven't been thinking clearly; all my thinking has been negative so I'm grateful that you've made me see differently.'

'Hey and don't go talking to Gloria; she's a cop, a nosy cop. If'n you go blabbing about Billy, we don't want her treating Billy as a suspect. Just cool it mate, its gunna be Ok. I'm sorry for sounding. . .' Just then, Barry's mobile rang and he interrupted Jeff to take the call.

'Hey, this is Barry . . . who? . . . Hey Wendy! What's' up? . . . Woo . . . woo . . . take it slowly; I can't . . . ( _silence_ ) . . . Jesus, shit; are you sure?'

Jeff watched Barry's face going from curiosity into concern and then silence as he listened to what obviously was a disturbing phone call. He said nothing and took a swig of beer while he waited for Barry to conclude.

'Yeah . . . no I'm Ok; yeah had me tests done recently . . . oh geeze don't cry Wendy, don't cry. Look I'll slip down to Melbourne tomorrow and see you. Where are you staying? Ok; see you then. Bye!'

Barry rang off without a further word and answered Jeff's unspoken question.

'As you can guess, that was Wendy; it's bad . . . she's tested positive for HERPES. ( _Silence . . . Jeff could see that Barry was struggling with some raw emotions_ ) I'll go to Melbourne tomorrow to see if I can prop her up; she's not very strong. ( _Angrily_ ) It's that fuckwit Cameron! He's gone an' got her infected; the bastard's apparently Herpes positive and had unprotected sex with Wendy and, probably others. I'm gonna make sure he's charged and the whole footy world knows about the little shit! Jesus, no one deserves this; it's a long-term health predicament, especially for a female and pregnancy.

'But it's not your problem Barry; what're you gonna do down there with her? Hasn't she got other friends and family to console her, why you?'

Barry did not respond immediately, but his eyes became unfocussed. Jeff noticed his facial expression change to sadness; it was obvious he struggled with painful memories. Jeff stayed silent out of respect for Barry's feelings, then

'Sometimes buddy, love can be ingrained, embedded; no matter how you try to reject the feeling, something will always remain. ( _Pause_ ) I loved her Jeff, really loved her. That's why her infidelity was all the more painful. At first, I couldn't accept that she had betrayed me; it was too heartbreaking. Then anger replaced grief; I used rage to deal with the pain. In that state, I came here, to escape, to heal, and to forget. But over the past few months, I've thought only of the good times, and they were many. I suppose you could say that I have healed, I know I have; but a part of me still loves her Jeff. I suppose a part of me will always love her; that's why I must go back to Melbourne, if only for a short time, to try and help her through this awful period.'

The silence that ensued was profound; Barry continued to reflect on his feelings, whilst Jeffry realized there was more to Barry Thompson than seen through the eyes of a casual observer. Barry was a good man, a good man who put himself out for others ahead of his own needs.

But he's very exposed. Other unscrupulous people could use his basic good nature against him. Shit! He's been scolding me about not being assertive whilst he's himself vulnerable on emotional matters.

'That's what I admire about you Barry; you're all too ready to help the other guy. I guess it's a tick in the good guy column. But at some stage you've gotta start looking after yourself. If you go down there, promise me . . . promise me you won't stay too long. You've got your future to think about now Barry, and your future's here, not in Melbourne.'

'Hey buddy, I can't make promises without knowing how bad Wendy is. I mean, if it were you who needed my help how would you feel if I said 'I know you're sick but I can only stay for two days.' What would you think? How would you react?'

'Don't know, so I can't answer you. But your priority is like me, to be on top of any problems Billy may cause. ( _Shit, I hope I don't sound selfish_ ) Can I call you if I need to?'

'Yeah, of course; anytime you want. Be glad to hear your voice. Now I'd better get home to get ready for tomorrow. I think I'll get going about five a.m. so I'll have a clear run. Coming?'

'No . . . you go. I feel like a few more. Anyways, I don't feel like going home to Lady Cynthia. See ya!'

When Barry left, Jeff got a refill and settled down with his thoughts . . . and fears. He settled back into his chair and moodily dragged his beer glass around in circles.

Barry hasn't thought this through. What can he do for Wendy; hold her hand and make sure she takes her tablets? He's plunging into an emotional cesspool and I fear his emotional defenses are fragile. His best option is to find another chick and forget about the past. But what can you do when you carry a forever torch for someone? And who am I kidding; I've never really loved someone 'till now? How do I know what love is? Not having love growing up, I'm not familiar with the experience; but I do feel something deep with Rita. I can't explain it so I reckon I'm denying my true instincts. I get a surge of pleasure just seeing or thinking about her. But I'm a hypocrite; if I found that Cindy was screwing behind my back, I guess I'd feel like Bazz. Whatever the circumstance finding out that yer partner is unfaithful would be awful. That's why I feel so comfortable with Rita; I can trust her, she is the kind of woman who would respect her man, make a home and be a loving mother. Arhh shit! Who am I kidding; Cindy would never divorce me so's I can marry Rita . . . never.

Oh Christ, have another beer Jeffry.

###

To get away from the depressing atmosphere at the station, Gloria and Fitzpatrick adjourned to the coffee shop. They had reached a dead end in the investigation . . . a complete brick wall. The interviews at the college had yielded only minor matters of interest, but no strong leads; nada – Nothing.

Fitzpatrick was slumped in his chair looking morosely at the menu and without any enthusiasm. Gloria was half turned in her seat peering out the front window as if waiting for inspiration.

'I've ( _sigh_ ) never had a case . . . ( _he_ _was interrupted by Robyn Ballard to take their orders) . ._ . a case like this before. We've had two murders; one of which has been solved, but all leads to the other murder have come to a dead end. For Christ's sake Gloria tell me something that I can pursue.'

'Nah . . . I'm all out of inspiration. I did re-interview Brother Peter but nothing positive came out, except he seemed very uncomfortable during the going-over. . . I think he knew something but was too scared to tell me.'

'Yeah . . . sometimes it's good to backtrack; it's amazing the little things that tend to be overlooked in an initial interview. I have ( _he fell silent as Robyn Ballard delivered their coffees)_ I have every confidence in you Gloria; have you ever considered applying for detective?'

'Ummm . . . no; never really thought about it. Do you think I'd make a good detective?'

'Yeah, ( _stirring his steaming coffee)_ yeah, I do. You've got a very inquisitive and inquiring mind. Naturally, you'd need training but if you put in an application, I'll support you. No problem.'

'Ummm, sorry for interrupting _(Robyn Ballard had come back to their table)_ but is there any news about the murder of Brother Simon. I know you can't say too much but people are getting scared thinking that there's a vicious killer running loose in town.'

Before answering, Gloria introduced Tom Fitzpatrick to Robyn and explained who she was amongst the townspeople. Fitzpatrick responded,

'Yeah . . . we can't really say too much 'cause it's a matter of following every lead we get; that's why it's important for you townies to give us as much info as you can. I mean even the smallest item could become very meaningful to the investigation. I'd like you to tell people that we rely on them heavily when we're trying to track down a culprit.'

'Well thank you inspector, I'll pass . . .' Just then one of the younger cops came bursting into the shop, looking very agitated he came over to Tom,

'Boss, please call the forensic people as soon as possible; they say that some new and important evidence has emerged!'

### Chapter Eight

Not wanting to make a phone call, Fitzpatrick and Gloria headed to the forensic lab, now established at the local hospital. They remained silent avoiding any speculation on the supposedly good news.

The chief forensic scientist met them excitedly, and asked them to sit down.

'Well, ( _demanded Fitzpatrick_ ) for Christ's sake don't keep us in suspense; what've you got?

'As I reported Tom before, we'd been all over the corpse . . .'

'Jesus . . . get on with it! I don't want a history lesson; what've you found?'

'We didn't ( _sounding apologetic_ ) inspect the appendage that had been placed in the corpse mouth. After all it's not usual procedure . . .'

'For shit's sake ( _angrily_ ) what have you found?'

'Spit!'

'Spit . . . you found spit. What's so . . . ( _it dawned on Fitzpatrick_ ) DNA! You've got the bastard's DNA. ( _Jumping up from his chair_ ) Are you telling me we have the perp's DNA?'

'Yes inspector, that's what I'm telling you; we were able to extract the foreign DNA from the sample of spit we obtained. And it's a good sample; whoever did this was extremely careless, not to mention cruel.'

'Wow! ( _this from Gloria_ ) all we have to do now is match the DNA to someone; I guess Boss that you'll want DNA samples of all the college students and faculty quickly?'

'You betcha . . . round them up senior constable; this is the breakthrough we've been waiting for. I'll leave that in your hands Gloria; soonest.'

###

In the midst of all the excitement, Brother Peter appeared at the police station and asked to see the Detective in charge of the investigation. He looked a wreck. The dark circles under his eyes bespoke of many sleepless nights and the tremor of his hands indicated extreme nervous tension. With Gloria over at the Marist College, Fitzpatrick took the Brother into the interrogation room, accompanied by another cop as witness.

'Well brother, what've you got to tell me; you indicated at the desk that you've something to confess.' The professional in Fitzpatrick scrutinized the man before him.

Hmmm . . . He's definitely in distress; has not slept well for a while, and shaking with tension. I'd say the man is struggling with heavy guilt and he's about to emotionally collapse. Something tells me I'll have to handle this priest with extreme care.

'Brother . . .?'

'I . . . my name is . . . Bro. . . . Brother Peter. Yes, Brother Peter; I, t . . . t.t teach at the Marist College here.'

'Can I just call you Peter? ( _Affirmative nod_ ) Peter; just relax and in your own time tell me what's troubling you. Oh . . . I'm being inhospitable; would you like something to drink . . . tea or coffee?'

'Ummm, coffee please; no milk, just two sugars. ( _The young cop disappeared to see to it)'_

Fitzpatrick turned on a recording devise and went through the process of stating the time, the date and identifying all present.

'What do you teach at the college Peter?

'I teach History. I've loved history from when I was a young lad; I used to borrow all the books on ancient history that I could, and soon I became very knowledgeable on both the Roman and Greek . . .'

'Thanks ( _interrupting_ ) Peter, but can we stick to the reason you're here.'

Bro.Peter ( _silently_ ) took a deep breath to try and compose himself. He knew he was in a bargaining position, but didn't know how far he could push with this cop. Looking at Fitzpatrick, he saw a man in his forties with a craggy face and eyes that seemed never to smile. His demeanor told of a man who had seen too much of violence and tragedy. However, his deportment was relaxed and nonthreatening.

'( _Slowly and carefully_ ) before I perjure myself I want an affirmation that the information I give you won't bring charges against me. What I'm about to tell you will help your investigation, but I want some assurances that I'll be treated leniently, and my contribution recognized; I want to be treated as a witness for the crown. Do I have your assurance?'

'No! Of course not! I can't give you such assurances, but ( _sounding reasonable_ ) I can recommend to the Public Prosecutor that, if your information is material and assists us in solving this case, the prosecutor's office will treat you leniently.'

'No, ( _assertively_ ) that's hardly an inducement; remember I came here of my own free will. I need some encouragement to tell you my story.'

'I'm sorry Peter, that's all I can do for you at this time; I mean I haven't yet heard what you have to say so I can't judge the veracity of what you're about to tell us. But, you have my assurance that I'll regard your information, such as it, very favorably.'

Just then, the coffee arrived and this gave Brother Peter pause to consider what Fitzpatrick had said.

_I can't back out now. He seems a reasonable man for a copper and I can't continue like this. I'm not built to sustain any emotional trauma. (_ Sigh _) I've crossed my own Rubicon; the dye is cast._

'Now just take your time, Peter; tell us what's troubling you.'

'( _Slowly and haltingly_ ) although I've taken the vow of celibacy, I can't control my yearning to have sex; my natural desires and needs are too powerful. At night, my head is full of such fantasies and lustful thoughts that I end up having to masturbate just to find relief. Then, of course, I have to go to confession and further embarrass myself. But it's wrong! ( _Indignantly_ ) wrong! The church and its demand of celibacy is the problem. If I were able to have a partner I could express my needs naturally . . .'

'Peter, try and keep to the facts; believe me, when you've got all your troubles out in the open, you'll feel relieved. _(Fitzpatrick looked to the young cop and was rewarded with a nod)_ So try and keep to the facts. I agree with you about this stupid vow of celibacy; it's completely unnatural.'

'Ummm . . . sorry; ( _gaining confidence_ ) well I heard that some of the Abbo kids were performing sexual favors for money and . . . I . . . arranged to meet the girls after school in a secluded place. Sometimes it was the same girl, but sometimes other girls offered themselves. It was the money. The money I gave them apparently was given to their parents; they knew what we were doing. It was a win, win situation; I got sexual relief and the parents received extra money to spend on . . . well, I don't really know. Just money to spend I guess.'

'So you're admitting you had sex with under-age children; perhaps they were also your students. Is that what you're saying?'

'Ye. Ummm . . . Yes.'

'( _sternly_ ) that would constitute two criminal charges; one, having sex with a minor; and two, failing your duty of care as a teacher. Both can be serious offences.'

'But ( _passionately_ ) they weren't victims. I didn't force myself on anybody. They gladly performed sex favors because it was working well for everyone. It would have continued ( _raising his voice_ ) had not stupid Brother Simon killed that poor little girl. He was a disaster waiting to happen and I can never forgive him for killing the child. We all operated on the principle that no harm would come to the children. It was kept very, very quiet. I've also heard that other men, not clergy, are using the girl's favors. There is a very active ring of . . . well, pedophiles; not only here but also throughout the state.'

'And _(harshly_ ) you can supply details of who these men are?'

'No! . . . No, I can't . . . but I know who can?'

'Well who? . . . Come on Peter you've done very well so far; tell us who this person is.'

'The man who co-ordinates all activities; who arranges communications, and whose been blackmailing myself and other brothers for years . . . Brother Michael!'

Silence . . .

'( _Disbelief)_ Brother Michael! The deputy principal of the college?'

'Yes! He's also the sport master and is very dangerous; I believe he's capable of anything. He's a very hard man; he behaves like a mafia Don.'

'Do you think he killed Brother Simon?'

'At first I did, and that's when I started to get very frightened. I know Brother Simon was wavering and considering giving himself up. Before he was killed, he was a wreck; he couldn't have lasted much longer before he had a physical and mental breakdown. He was a threat to all of us.'

'You say, at first you believed Brother Michael to be the killer . . . I take it now you're not so sure?'

'No; I mean yes . . . because I know he communicates with someone else. I've heard snippets of conversation when he didn't know I was listening. He talks to, or reports to someone else.'

'Let's back up a bit and talk about Brother Simon's murder. First, did you have any knowledge that he'd killed Ruth Jalla?'

'( _Emphatically_ ) No . . . No, I did not! However, after the girl was found I had my suspicions. Bro.Simon was an emotional mess; he didn't have any self-control.'

'Aha ( _thoughtfully_ ) and when Bro. Simon's body was found, what was your reaction?'

'Fear! ( _Choke_ ) Fear so real I could smell and taste it! I knew I'd be next.'

'Why? Why did you think you were in danger?'

( _Angrily_ ) Because Bro. Michael told me! He has this hold over everybody. Anybody who didn't comply with his demands was threatened with exposure; not to the police . . . you guys, but to the diocese.'

Why . . .?'

( _Laughing_ ) Because the culprit would have been chastised by the Bishop and moved to another location, it would never go as far as being reported to you people. However, your days as a clergyman would be over. This has happened in so many cases; too many cases.

( _Gathering confidence_ ) You lay people have got no idea how much the church has covered up sex crimes against children! And I mean real crimes, when great harm has been done to children in the church's care; in boarding schools; with altar boys; molesting choirboys and girls. And it goes back a very long time!

( _Pausing to gather his thoughts_ ) What's incredible is that all of the offenses were fully documented and handled by reputable solicitors. The Church has been paying shut up money to victims and then legally compelling them to silence. The whole litany of injustices has been hushed up.

This is incredible; if what he says is true, we will have to shift our attention to the entire Catholic Church. Shit! This is a Bombshell! Good ol' Bro.Peter does not comprehend the ammunition he's just divulged. Fuck me! This will make my career. But I'll have to be careful not to let the Brother realize how important a witness he is. But it's too much for me to handle by myself; I'll have to buck it upstairs. Now . . . what to do about the Brother?

_(Speaking sternly)_ 'That's an incredible accusation Peter; do you have proof? I mean you just can't go making wild accusations without being able to back them up. What can you tell me?'

'It ( _Sensing he held the upper hand_ ) it depends on what you can offer me. If the deal is right, I'll give you names of the perpetrators and some of the victims. But I want a deal.'

'Oh do you! ( _Speaking slowly and thoughtfully_ ) Well, here's all I can do for you now. I won't charge you at this time, but I'll immediately take the matter up with the Public prosecutor and see what we can offer you; but I must ask that you surrender your passport. That's all for now, Ok?'

He shut off the recording device.

###

After receiving Fitzpatrick's call, Gloria hurried back to the police station. With a fresh coffee in her hand, Gloria listened to the recorded interview with Br. Peter.

"That's incredible,' she managed. 'This is becoming awesome; what are you going to do?'

'I've made an appointment with the Prosecutor to discuss the whole matter. I've no doubt it'll be taken out of our hands; it's too big for us. Anyway, our focus must be on solving the murder of Bro.Simon. But I'm gonna recommend a charge followed by a suspended sentence for Bro.Peter; that's the best we can do.'

'But ( _sounding terse_ ) he's admitted to having sex with underage kids, not to mention failing in his duty of care as a teacher.'

'True; and if he hadn't supplied us with info on pedophiles, I would've been very severe, even if, as he claims, there is no victimization involved. He's just lucky he brought a big bargaining chip to the table.'

'I guess ( _sounding exasperated_ ) we have to swallow the proverbial bitter pill.'

'Yes; now tell me how we're progressing with the DNA swabs?'

'We're not; at least we've only got to do the faculty. The children are off limits, unless we have their parent's consent; and that's not gonna happen. Bro. Michael is becoming very hostile.'

'I ( _angry_ ) bet he is; according to Bro.Peter he's in this up to his hairy armpits. I'm convinced that the Marist College is the hub of a criminal conspiracy involving murder and pedophilia. When I first came here if you had said that to me, I would've had you transferred to the outback.'

'Thanks ( _laughing_ ), and I would have disserved it. But where are we now; I mean how should we proceed?'

'The first issue is to find out how far Bro. Michael is involved in this mess. Bro.Peter says he talks to someone else . . .'

'But ( _interrupting_ ) doesn't he think the brother capable of killing . . .'

'Yes, I know. But we have to learn more. We need to have something against him to make him talk.'

'How we gonna do that?'

'Tap his phone. I'll get the local judge to give me the authority based on Bro. Peter's interview.'

###

Billy strolled aimlessly along the bush track leading to the town proper. It was a beautiful autumn day with warm sunshine and a gentle breeze. He was on his way to meet Barry Thompson at the footy ground for a practice session. These meetings were eagerly anticipated; he knew he was gaining confidence and expertise and appreciated the time that Barry spent with him. Suddenly . . .,

'Hey you . . . are you'se called Billy Yorta?'

Caught unawares, he started to panic as a large white man confronted him. He was a big man with a powerfully muscular frame. The stubby shorts he wore showed brawny muscles and the tan of a skin obviously gained from working outside. His eyes were narrow and, menacing.

'Y . . . yep dat's me. I'm Billy; who is you'se?'

'None of yer bloody business. I hear you'se is the one that's arraigning for young black sheilas t'give sex to those bloody priests and anyone else for that matter. Right?'

'Hey dats not true; where'd you hear dat? Anyway, it's none of yer bloody business. Ya doan frighten me . . .'

. . . He never saw the heavy punch to the side of his head that sent him crashing onto his back.

'You dirty piece of black trash ( _oomph_ ) I've heard about yer filthy doings and I'm here to teach ya a lesson ( _oomph_ ). Yer fuck'n disgusting ( _oomph_ ) you and those filthy priests; ya make me sick ( _thump_ ).'

Billy was in so much pain he hardly heard what the man was saying. Defensively, he'd doubled up into a fetal position to try and absorb the kicks as they slammed into his body. He was kicked in the head; to his stomach; to his groin; on his buttocks; to his thighs and between his shoulder blades. It was a follow up kick to his stomach that started him retching . . . violently retching.

Then if his pain-racked body had not endured enough, the man began to urinate on Billy's tormented body. A thick steady stream of pungent urine was slashed all over him; it went on and on until the man emptied himself and looked down on his creation.

'You and the rest of you bludging black trash should be herded into a concentration camp and the Hitler solution applied. The country would be well off if you and yer kind just simply disappeared . . . hopefully into an oven. If I haven't made meself clear, here's my parting message . . . and he spat a thick gob of yellow spit onto Billy's pain ravaged face.

He was in so much pain he couldn't move; any movement only amplified his distress. He began to moan and then started crying.

'Shut the fuck up! Or I'll give you'se another dose of me foot. Shut up arsehole; you'se disgusting and so's yer fucking black parents. Fuck'n black wingers, yous're parasites . . . and here's ( _thump_ ) one for good riddance.'

Billy didn't feel the last kick as he slipped from semi-conscience into a comatose state. He was out cold.

###

When Billy didn't turn up, Barry wasn't concerned; he was often late for practice. Annoying, but hardly grounds for concern. Then Gloria rang telling him about the savage attack on Billy.

Someone called triple zero activating an alert to the police as well as requesting an ambulance. Gloria responded immediately and was first on the scene; a scene that horrified her. Billy was barely breathing and deep in shock. She kept his head as comfortable as possible until the ambulance arrived and whilst waiting she could smell the urine on the kid's shorts and footy jumper.

Mongrels! Don't worry Billy I'll find out who did this. This was a gutless attack on a young kid. Whoever did this is a very sick spineless piece of shit; but he's left his calling card all over you and that's gonna be his downfall.

Billy looked a pitiful sight as the paramedics tried to make him comfortable before loading him into the waiting ambulance. As they were placing Billy into the ambulance, Gloria asked about the extent of Billy's injuries.

'He's got two broken ribs and one has fractured near his heart; it's that we're most concerned about. Other than that, the boy has sustained vicious trauma to just about every part of his body; the kick to the side of his head rendered his unconscious and the doctor will probably put him into an induced coma. I hope you get the cruel bastard who did this; I've seen many attacks on people but nothing like this . . . and to a kid. This was a planned attack Senior Constable; I hope the vermin gets charged with attempted murder.'

'I want his clothes and a sample of the spit on his face ( _the paramedic nodded_ ); there's enough DNA evidence here to bag this fucker; don't botch the job. Get the results to Detective Inspector Tom Fitzpatrick as quickly as possible. Are we good? ( _Another nod_ )

'Right! ( _Sadly_ ) I'm off to tell his parents.'

###

The emergency room was crammed with Billy's relatives and as Gloria walked through, they all wanted to know who did this to Billy. To the assembled cluster of distraught black faces, she tried to give some comfort.

'I'm just going to talk to the doctors; I'm sure they'll be with you presently to give an update on Billy's situation. But I want to assure you we'll get the cockroach who did this to Billy; he's just a kid and this vicious attack will bring the full weight of the white man's law down on him.'

Two of the elders looked at each other and nodded slowly; tribal law had been sanctioned.

###

Gloria felt conflicting emotions of rage and sadness as she looked down on Billy Yorta. Here was this beautiful sixteen-year-old kid functioning only on life support systems, the steady 'beep', 'beep' of the monitors, being the only evidence that the child was alive.

She threw a questioning glance at one of the doctors who then indicated she should follow him outside.

'He's really taken a battering; ( _shaking his head_ ) I haven't seen a case like this, particularly to a child, for a long time. Besides the trauma to his body, the blow to his head has us worried. We'll have to do a cat scan to determine if there is any permanent damage to his brain. Our immediate concern is that a blood clot may develop and cause a hemorrhage; so we've introduced blood thinners to the drip, hoping they'll prevent a clot developing. ( _Pause_ ) We've stabilized the fractured rib that threatened his heart so that immediate danger has been averted.'

'How long will he be unconscious Doctor? Only Billy can recognize his attacker.'

'Depends; depends on how healthy he is and how we can avert any hemorrhage threat in his brain. I'd say he'll be in an induced coma for at least a week; talk to me then.'

'Thanks; will you talk to his people? They're all waiting outside for news and they'll be asking questions that I can't, and shouldn't answer.'

'No, leave it to me; sadly we're used to this kind of thing.'

###

Once again they were frustrated; another dead end. The forensic people were able to extract a DNA profile from urine and the phlegm on Billy's face. But it was useless until Billy could identify his assailant; and Billy was still in an induced coma. A general appeal went out for anybody who had any knowledge of the attack to come forward. No one did.

Back in the temporary command room, Fitzpatrick vented his frustration by throwing a book at the incident board; Gloria, ( _ducking to avoid the projectile)_ suppressed a smile at the show of childish irritation.

'What's happening about the phone tap on Bro. Mike's phone? At least that's one positive lead we can follow.'

'Yes, yes; thanks! I forgot about that. Yes; I've been trying to concentrate on the Billy Yorta assault and clean forgot about our dear Bro. Mike. Yes; the approval came through yesterday.'

'Well . . .'

'I'll get the tech boys to set it up by tonight. It may not lead anywhere but you never know what might come out of the tap; but let's not get our hopes up . . . this despicable bastard is one cool cookie and my bet is he'll play his cards close to his chest.'

'Hey boss, don't go sounding so negative. All through this investigation when we think we've come up against a brick wall something comes along to keep the investigation ticking over. Let's see what this bullyboy does. Say, what's the decision on Bro.Peter? Have you talked to the Public prosecutor yet?'

'Oh yes; sorry, I forgot to tell you. I need a kick up the arse. Yes I had a call from Melbourne; they'll offer him a conviction but with a suspended sentence of five years. But he must come through and spill all he knows about the pedophile ring and their activities; he'll be asked to name names and if he lies or omits valuable info, we'll proceed to prosecute him.'

'Ok; that's clear enough.'

###

. . . ( _Click_ ) . . . ( _Click_ ) . . . 'Hello, Brother Mike speaking.'

'I was expecting you to call; I want to know why it was necessary to bash the abbo kid up . . . ( _angry and loud_ ) **are you out of your fucking mind!** He's just a kid for Christ sake; I would've thought that even you and your cronies wouldn't stoop so low as to . . .'

'Shut the fuck up! Shut up you ignorant bastard . . . don't use the lords name in vain in my presence; swear as much as you like but I'll draw the line at using the lord's name in such a manner . . .'

'Jesus . . . ( _sounding derogatory_ ) aren't we being petty. It's all right to bash up young kids to near death but you can't use yer bloody Christian god's name. You lot make me sick. We've all known about the kids' activities haven't we? It makes me laugh; the kids regard your lot as their best customers, and then you go and spoil it for everybody by maiming one of the nicest darkies I've ever known. You know the kid had a great footy career ahead, but now thanks to you he's gonna be lucky to walk again. ( _Sneering_ ) Arseholes!'

'You're just a common ill-mannered blowhard sergeant. . .'

Sergeant! Both Fitzpatrick and Gloria exchanged looks of complete surprise. Sergeant! Sergeant Cree?

'. . . and I find you a very unpleasant human being. No, you shut up! Don't interject; let me have a say for once. No one here bashed the kid up. Think what you want but I'm telling you none of us did the kid in. It's more like the thugs you associate with who'd do something so brutal. Ok, we're hypocrites when it comes to sex activities, but we've never . . . I repeat never victimized anyone.'

Silence.

'Alright, ( _conciliatory_ ) alright, if it wasn't the clergy who done him in . . . then who?'

'Don't know! You're a copper; you've got the means to investigate . . . we haven't'

'Ummm . . . I've been taken off the case, so I don't know what that smug fuck-whit from Melbourne and that bitch are doing. But the whole shebang is about to go belly up. That weak bastard of yours, Brother Peter is copping a plea in exchange for testifying about our activities . . .

' _Ours! Our activities' Fitzpatrick and Gloria were riveted; Cree was up to his neck in the mess._

. . . Whoever silenced Brother Simon should have fucked Brother Peter as well.'

'I wish you could refrain from foul language.'

'Oh do you! And I wish I hadn't listened to you when you came and asked for protection nearly three years ago. At that time I was entirely sympathetic to your suggestion, because I agreed it was wrong for the Church to deny anybody sexual relief, and ( _laughing_ ) I didn't know you're a bunch of sex maniacs.'

'So, what's your point? Of course, we have needs. Anyway, we're off the point. I know my people didn't kill Brother Simon and if you say the police didn't then who, who killed Brother Simon?'

'Who indeed; perhaps he was just a wrong person in a wrong place at the wrong time. These tragic instances do happen. But I've been removed from the investigation so my info is via the grapevine .That's why I called you to tell that your Brother Peter is about to spill his guts out and we can't do anything about it . . . short of silencing him; and that ain't gonna happen. Just be prepared.'

'Well; thanks for the heads up. ( _Earnestly_ ) I really do appreciate the warning. ( _Sigh_ ) I'll have to inform the Headmaster about the whole mess and that's not something to look forward too.

###

' . . , and your telling me this because?'

'You're the father Laurie. It can only be you.'

'Oh come on Cindy, what about Jeff; he's ya hubbie. He's more likely t'be the father than I am. Anyway, I know you screwed young Jimmy and probably lots of others.'

'Well ( _angrily_ ) you can ignore yer brother; he's got such a low sperm count that he can't produce children. And yes, I had a fuck with Jimmy, but I used protection and for that matter I protected meself every time I had a one night stand.'

'Hey wait on, how do you know Jeff's infertile, did he tell you?'

'No, ( _indignantly_ ) I was scrounging around in his desk looking for some clean memo paper when I saw the result from a doctor. The medical term used was oligospermia, which means extreme low sperm count. Putting it another way . . . he's barren.'

'Wow that really is a shitter. Poor Jeffry.'

'Fuck poor Jeffry, what about me? I got a young'un growing inside me and it's yours Laurie. I ain't gonna get it aborted 'cause I'm still a strong Catholic and won't go against my faith.'

'Ok, Ok ( _thinking_ ). First off let's get a paternity test just so's I knows the little bugger is really mine; then we'll take it from there.'

###

Jeff toyed with his beer, letting the sounds of the RSL swirl around him. He was in a very dismal place, a very bad dark place. He left work for lunch and then stayed on at the club, drinking and thinking and worrying and feeling hopeless. He was in love; a new emotion for Jeffry; he had never known a parents love and although his aunt Betty had tried to love him, it wasn't the same as a mother's love. And he definitely didn't love Cindy; that emotion had died some time ago.

Rita, Rita, Rita, I need you now babe. I know what I should do; just tell Cindy that I love you baby girl and ask for a divorce. Simple? Oh yeah, I can just imagine the fury that Cindy would invoke faced with that news. She's capable of very bad language, resorting to filth; I can almost hear the vile things she'd say about me and you babe. But this can't go on, there has to be some resolution and it should come from me, except I'm too weak, too timid, to gutless and too spineless. Perhaps if I do nothing it will resolve itself one way or another.

As the afternoon wore on and he sank deeper in the mire of wretchedness, Jeff realized he needed more money; but he'd left his ATM card at home. Through his foggy brain he decided to go home, collect his card, and then head over to the Shearers. But he was well over the limit and would have to drive carefully. Even then, if they caught him and then sent him to jail, at least he wouldn't have to make any decisions.

When he arrived home, he fancied he heard sounds coming from upstairs. Even in his befuddled state he realized that something was wrong and he slowly and quietly climbed the stairs to their sleeping quarters. As he got closer the sounds became guttural interspaced with little squeals. A feeling of dread overcame him as he quietly opened his bedroom door and saw . . .

An ugly hairy bum thrusting enthusiastically into . . . Cindy, his wife who was squealing with passion at each bestial thrust. Then, becoming aware of an intrusion the head attached to the hairy bum ravaging his wife turned and . . . and . . . and he looked into the face of his brother . . . Laurie!

For one insane moment three people formed a tabloid of guilt, betrayal, and contempt. Cindy was the first to recover with . . .

'Oh Jeffry, Jeffry I'm sorry, sorry; you . . . you weren't supposed to come home until . . .'

Something snapped inside Jeff. The brain has a limit to the amount of despair it can withstand and Jeffry had reached his. One by one his senses closed down until he was, and became, an emotional shell; and was made absolute by the sneering laughter that emanated from his brother.

But he didn't hear his brother's sniggering laughter or his wife's pleas for forgiveness; in a trance he went back down the stairs and climbed into his car.

By some instinct he drove out to the edge of town where a long, straight stretch of highway disappeared into the distance.

Jeffry put his foot down hard on the accelerator, and . . . faster . . . faster . . . faster . . .

### Chapter Nine

It was a desolate atmosphere in the Headmasters office that sunny afternoon. Two men of the clergy faced each other across ten thousand miles of desk. After learning of such evil happenings that no school administrator should have to endure, the older man sat crumpled in his chair, as if desperately seeking comfort and protection.

The younger man adopted a respectable and miserable demeanor. Brother Michael was a hard man but even he quailed at the prospect of telling this wonderful old man such appalling news. Perhaps for the first time in his life he felt the agony of remorse. Brother Dominic looked up from his contemplation of his desk diary and . . .

'You're telling me ( _disbelief_ ) that this appalling state of affairs has been going on for almost three years. What ( _exasperated)_ have you been doing Brother Michael; what have you done personally to encourage our people in this matter. What has been your role?'

'( _A deep breath_ ) I have long believed the Church to be wrong on the issue of Celibacy; very wrong. A healthy sex life is a need given to us by our creator and it is immoral of the church to oppose this . . .'

'That ( _heatedly_ ) is not your prerogative to challenge, Brother. ( _Raising his voice_ ) Neither you nor I can challenge official church teaching on the matter. You know that! You made a vow . . .'

'( _Angrily_ ) yes, yes I did; yes I took a vow! I took a vow because I didn't have any alternative; ( _louder_ ) I had no option. I had no choice in the matter . . . just do as the church dictates and shut up!'

'Are you telling me you took your vow with a false heart?'

'That's one way to look at the issue. Another would be that I wanted to do great things. To reach out and help people, believing that the greater good be served by not following out of date church teachings on a fundamental issue such as celibacy. Others of our Christian believers do not enforce celibacy; they allow their adherents to marry, have children, and live a happy life. No . . . please don't interrupt Brother; let me finish.

The main reason that celibacy is required has nothing to do with doctrine but has everything to do with economics. The Church in its usual miserly fashion doesn't want to spend money for the upkeep of spouses and families. What hypocrisy! We are against the use of family planning, encouraging lay people to have large families, but at the same time denying that wonderful joy to their own clergy. Hypocrisy! Double standards!'

'( _Sigh_ ) Careful brother, that attitude may see you lose your privileges as a priest. You may be defrocked.'

"Ha! That's a laugh; I'm resigning right now. I want no more to do with hypocritical church teachings. I'm sure that I'll have to face criminal charges but when I do you may be assured that I'll have my day in court. I intend to expose the dire hypocrisy of the Catholic Church. I'm not gonna go quietly.'

'I'm sorry you feel . . .'

'( _Angrily)_ Please don't give me platitudes Dominic, I've seen too much insincerity in my time as a priest. ( _Pause_ ) Now back to your earlier question. What was my role in this mess? Now I can tell you. I found out about the brothers paying for sex with the abbo boys and girls and was entirely sympathetic. I told them individually, that as long as they didn't victimize the kids, and the parents had no objection, I would let them continue. It seemed a win, win situation. Then I approached the local police sergeant and having put my case, asked for him to turn a blind eye. He agreed and so the matter proceeded. That was until the little abbo girl was killed; the rest, as they say, is history.'

An uncomfortable silence grew whilst each man considered the next move.

He's captured the high moral ground. His threat to turn on the church is real; knowing Brother Michael as I do, he'll carry out his threat and the church will suffer greatly. But it's not up to me is it? All I can do is report the whole mess to the bishop and tender my resignation . . . or enforced retirement.

'Well, what should we do now Brother?'

'Wait.'

###

The ambulance rushing Jeffry to hospital arrived at the Emergency entrance with sirens wailing. Staff hurried him into the Intensive care unit and proceeded to repair his most obvious and serious wounds.

He had been lucky; the air bag had saved his life. Aside from broken ribs and lacerations to his legs, the only other damage was to his head where he'd taken a serious bump to the side; there was more blood than damage.

Nevertheless, a CAT scan and x-ray were awaiting the report of a specialist. A tearful and remorseful Cindy arrived and had to wait for the medical staff to inform her as to his state. On the other hand, Laurie Cree indicated he couldn't care less whether his cousin lived or died.

###

The call from Gloria devastated Barry. Jeffry in intensive care with serious injuries that could have been self-inflicted. The news about Billy was bad enough but to learn that Jeff had tried to take his life stunned him. He put down the phone and informed Wendy who sat in a chair opposite him. After a moment's hesitation he said,

'I don't know if it was a deliberate attempt at suicide or a simple accident; but it sounds like he was trying to hurt himself. I must go.'

'( _sighing_ ) I understand Barry; I understand you've made new friends in that dreary town, but I need you here. I don't believe I can handle this alone. Stay with me Barry, please.'

C'mon Wendy, I only came down to help you get over the initial shock. You know I can't stay forever. I've spoken to your doctor and he assures me Herpes isn't such a dour punishment as it was before. People with Herpes can live useful lives. If you follow his advice, look after your health and keep a positive attitude, you can control the disease.'

'( _Whining_ ) you just can't leave me Barry; you just can't walk away from our relationship of several years. Don't the good times we shared mean anything? Ok, OK! I made a mistake and I'm paying for it now, probably with my life _(Barry shook his head at Wendy's attempt at emotional blackmail),_ but for god's sake Barry don't desert me, pleased don't desert me!'

( _Angrily_ ) I'm not deserting you; you've got my number, so you can always contact me if you get into serious trouble. Remember this Wendy, I didn't give you Herpes; Cameron did. Why haven't you contacted him to get support, why? Have you reported him for having unprotected sex when he knew he was infected? No . . .? ( _Wendy shook her head_ ) Well do it before he infects other people. If you don't Wendy I will!'

'NO, NO, please . . . I'm trying to keep my condition private; only you and my mom and dad know my secret. It's bad enough Barry to be infected; I don't want the world laughing at me, so please honor our past and don't tell anybody else. '( _pause_ ) Ouch . . . I'm sorry Barry, I didn't want to sound pathetic but my life is over. I don't have the courage to face my future.'

'OH SHIT! Stop that. There are many others living with Herpes and there are many support groups. You'll find someone else in the same condition and you can make a life together. You're still a beautiful woman Wendy, a very attractive woman.'

'Oh bullshit! You're only saying that so's your conscience is clear and to cover your guilt going back to Waterford.'

_Oh Christ, I don't think she'll ever let go_. _Yeah well, there's one thing I gotta do before I go home._

###

'Hi Barry, hey you're looking good, must be that country air . . . Ummm . . . frankly your call surprised me; I reckon I'm the last person you'd want to talk to.'

'I suppose Cameron, I'm a little surprised meself that I contacted you, but I reckoned we should meet to clear the air.

Silence. Barry arraigned to meet Cameron at the Duke of York hotel in Melbourne's east. Before going back to Waterford, it seemed important to get Cameron's take on his affair with Wendy; something wasn't adding up. Cameron was ruggedly handsome and sported a crop of dark almost black curly hair. Barry had played against him on several occasions when they 'manned up' so to speak. He was a fitness fanatic, keeping himself in great shape. Sensing hostilities, neither man suggested ordering drinks.

'I've gotta tell you man that I'm angry with the way you've conducted yourself. How could you go out having sex with any sheila knowing you were Herpes posit . . .'

'Hey ( _hostile_ ), hold on; stop right there. Don't go any further. ( _Angrily_ ) I take acceptation to you suggesting I went on having unprotected sex knowing I was Herpes positive. That's a lie! It's just not true! How dare you; where did you get that idea, huh - from Wendy?'

'Ummm ( _confused_ ) . . . err, yes; that's what Wendy told me. Are you trying to say she's wrong; she's lying?'

'Yep ( _hostile_ ) . . . that's what I'm saying. Wendy gave me Herpes, not the other way 'round. She was screwing around long time before she met me. I'm sorry ( _gentler_ ) Barry; it's hard to find out the woman you love is a . . . sorry, but there's only one word for it . . . she's a slut. Geez Barry, I should've asked, did you love her?'

'Thought so, I really thought so. I believed she loved me. We had some big fights but always came back to each other. Shit! Oh man, oh man, what an idiot I've been; guys must've been laughing at me behind me back.'

Silence,

'Barry, you need a drink, my shout. You Ok with Carlton draught?' Barry nodded and Cameron went away to get drinks.

I can't get me head around this, but it sure explains that uneasy feeling I had with Wendy. Finding out she's been screwing around is extremely hurtful, but the only damage done, is to my ego. (Sigh) It's always the way; the innocent person is the last one to find out? I guess I join a long list of betrayals.

Cameron returned with the beer and sat back looking at Barry quizzically.

'How come you aren't infected Barry, how come she didn't infect you?'

'Ummm, simple . . . I always wore protection. She hated my doing so, but I've always been very careful. We had many fights over the issue; I just wouldn't budge.'

Silence. Cameron sat back and played with his glass in a reflective mood. Barry took a long gulp of beer.

'Geeze Cameron I'm really sorry. I came here to sledge you; instead find you're the one victimized. ( _Softly_ ) I take it that you're positive?'

'Yes, yes I am ( _pause_ ). Finding out was horrible; I was devastated. Even n . . . ( _choke_ ) I . . . I can't accept it. ( _Pause as Cameron fought back tears_ ). I don't know how it'll affect my footy career. I can only marry a shiela whose also Herpes positive, and of course the shame. I'm corrupted. I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me; I got myself into this so I'll have to live with it.'

Barry couldn't think of anything to say, except

'Hey man, let's get pissed!'

###

And as he drove away from Melbourne towards the place he now called home, Barry had time to think.

What a bloody mess! Wendy screwing behind my back, then infected with Herpes, subsequently infecting Cameron with the same evil and probably contaminating many others. I wonder what caused her to go and have a checkup just now. After talking with Cameron, I don't feel any sympathy towards her. Somehow, and I don't know how, I'm gunna have to lose any feelings I've ever had for her. If only I knew how.

###

Rita cautiously entered the hospital and asked the receptionist about Jeffry Cree. To her relief, he was now out of intensive care, but still closely monitored in another ward of the hospital. Apprehensively she navigated the hospital's meandering corridors to find where Jeffry lay.

The news about Jeff had stunned her; she fought hard to control her distress in front of others. It was devastating news. She worried what affect her anguish would have on the life growing inside her, but she put such thoughts aside for the time being. Also, somewhere inside the hospital, her cousin Billy lay recovering from his assault and she resolved to visit him as soon as she'd been with Jeffry.

Walking into his room all Rita could see tubes going from his arms and chest to several monitors emitting slow 'beep' sounds. Jeffry looked pale and drawn; the only evidence of life was the fluorescent screens that showed digital readouts of his vital signs. She moved closer and held his hand, so lifeless and damp.

'I . . . I love's ya Jeffry. ( _Pause_ ) I'll shout it out loud if only you'll come back to us, to me. ( _Choke_ ) I know you'se sensitive and probably not very strong but I loves you for it. ( _Pause_ ) Geeze it's good to say the words out loud . . . I love ya Jeff. If you'll let me, we'll plan a life together and grow old together. ( _Pause_ ) Owe, that sounds corny! But I don't care; ( _sob_ ) I don't care about the future, I only care about the present with you, with me, and our baby.

If ( _sob_ ) you feel as strong about me as I do about you, we'll overcome life's problems. I can't . . . ( _pause_ ) I can't wait to wake up and feel you lying beside me; and let me tell you you're about the sexiest man I've ever seen. We'll have happiness, and ( _pause_ ) yeh a few sad times; life's not easy. But it is certainly easier if you've got the person, you love sharing the highs and lows with you. ( _Pause_ ) Geeze, I love you Jeff . . .'

'That was beautiful . . . I wish; I wish I had someone to say things like that to me. That was beautiful Rita; I'm sure Jeffry heard you.'

'Oh hi . . . ( _Rita looked up at Gloria who had come in unnoticed_ ) I . . . Uh . . . just wanted to tell him how I feel about him, even if he can't hear me. Geeze . . . he looks bad!'

'That's Ok ( _laughing_ ) beautiful words are always welcome. And don't worry, he's actually better than he looks; the air bag saved his life. He's only on oxygen to help him breathe and overcome his bruised ribs. I'm staying here because of Billy so best you go now and when he wakes up, I'll let you know. OK?'

###

'Jesus Christ ( _loudly_ ) . . . you've got to be kidding. Jeff tried to total himself?'

On arriving back in Waterford, Barry didn't go home; he went straight to the hospital's intensive care ward. There Jeffry lay; head encased in bandages and an oxygen mask assisting his breathing. Shortly Gloria joined him and suggested they get coffee. Like most hospital coffee shops, the conversation was subdued, but Barry's voice level reflected his alarm at Gloria's news about Jeff.

'Yes, apparently; his wife Cynthia broke down and sobbed out the whole sordid story. Jeff caught her in bed with Laurie Cree, and the shock was too much; he just couldn't cope. That I can understand, your wife being unfaithful with a relative like Laurie Cree would unbalance anybody. It's common knowledge that she'd been sleeping around; everybody had heard the rumors . . . except Jeff of course.'

_Christ, I understand how he feels. Here I'm trying to deal with my own problem only to find Jeff's going through the same trauma_.

'Hey, what about Rita, has anybody told her about Jeff?

'Yeah, she came to visit the lad, and as I walked in I heard her say something really beautiful to the patient. These two belong to each other. I can only hope he feels about her as she does for him Of course then there are the bigots in this town. I hope they don't interfere. But the real test will be when Cindy finds out; I reckon she's capable of extreme cruelty and she won't be shoved aside by an abbo girl without becoming vicious. I mean, how's that little bitch gunna take to Jeff running off with an indigenous girl, hmmm . . . and of course, getting her preggo?'

''What a bitch . . . what a bitch she is and what a mongrel is bloody Laurie Cree. What about Cree's wife, Betty, does she know?'

'I can only assume so; the whole town knows so she must. ( _Angry_ ) How a cretin like Cree got to be a sergeant in the cops is hard to fathom.'

'Yeah . . . I mean I've always known him to be a bastard; I thought he might mellow with time, but it appears he's got worse. What a fucker! Anyway, you were talking to me about Jeff.'

'Well, from what I know, Jeff's been unhappy for some time. I don't think he intended suicide . . . he was trying to escape, to escape from something horrible. He was driving away from his pain rather than driving towards ending it. I guess everything just became too much.'

'Well, I hope that's it; Jeff didn't appear to be the suicidal type.'

'Well he's your mate Barry; you can be a friendly shoulder if the need arises.'

'I gather the town's in an uproar over the recent police investigation. What's happening?'

'Oh, lots. Let me go back; you knew about Billy ( _Barry nodded 'yes'_ ) Well, he's still in hospital but out of intensive care. We'll go back and visit ( _again, Barry nodded)._ Whoever banged him up left his DNA all over the boy. All we have to do now is get Billy to identify him and if his DNA matches, we've got the shit; and I've got an idea how to do that.'

'( _Angry_ ) Bloody hell, why do people have to be so cruel? Why batter an innocent young kid like Billy. I just hope he can continue his footy preparation; it'll be a shame if he's out for life. But tell me more.'

'Well, one of the brothers; Ummm, his name is Peter, came to us and volunteered to . . .'

'Peter! Brother Peter? I know him; he's a very decent person. I would have no problem vouching for his integrity. What has he got to do with this mess?'

'If you let me finish . . . he came and admitted he'd been having paid sex with the young abbo kids. We were very wary at first and told him we'd have to consider his information before we could make any deal with him. ( _Bazz went to interject but Gloria silenced him_ ) Obviously, he wanted immunity but we told him that would have to be considered in Melbourne. We've now offered him a conviction with a suspended sentence. Now, what did you want to say?'

'Shit! ( _Sounding_ _bewildered_ ) Wow! What can I say; Shit, Brother Peter. ( _Pause_ ) I'm dismayed. He's very sincere; but of course, he's also human. I don't understand how the Catholic Church expects people to deny their natural urges. To me trying to be celibate is completely un-natural.'

'How right you are, but let me come back to that; it's a very important observation and celibacy is the root cause of the problem. But Barry . . . let me come back to the issue in a moment. Now, where was I . . .?

Oh yes . . . When, we offered him a suspended sentence, he started talking. Fitzpatrick and I could hardly believe the tale he told us. It appears that, with the connivance of Brother Michael and our own sergeant Cree, the brothers have been having sex favors with the abbo kids for money . . .'

'Wow! You're telling me that Cree and Brother Michael were encouraging the brothers to have sex with the young abbo kids . . .'

'. . . yes, and some of the white kids too. But the white kid's parents didn't know what's been going on; at least, we don't believe they know.'

'Shit eh! What a mess. But Laurie Cree; it's hard to understand why he got so involved with the College. Why did he do it?'

'Before I attempt to answer that, let's go back to your point about celibacy. When we confronted Brother Michael, he confessed he was vehemently opposed to the church on celibacy. Apparently, he turned a blind eye to the brother's sexual antics and actually protected them by having Cree ignore any prosecution. Why Cree agreed I can't say; perhaps he was storing up blackmail evidence for later use.'

'Yeah . . . that'd be right; Cree hasn't got a noble cell in his entire body. So where does the whole mess stand now?'

'Cree has been busted to constable, and will move to a little town outback of Swan Hill. Betty's gonna divorce him I hear, and move back to Melbourne. Brother Michael has resigned from the Catholic Church, but it won't end there; the Premier has called for a wide-ranging enquiry into all religious institutions and their encouragement of pedophilia. As a movie, it should be a blockbuster.'

'Jesus . . . ( _concerned_ ) but what about that dear old man, Brother Dominic; I wonder what's gonna happen to him?'

'( _Sadly_ ) I suppose there's always got to be a scapegoat. He had nothing to do with the goings on but I'm sure the church will have to blame somebody; someone, that is except itself. ( _Angrily_ ) What a bunch of bastards is the whole Catholic Church. I hold them collectively responsible for this mess. If they didn't subscribe to that ridiculous stupidity called celibacy, much of this problem could've been avoided.'

'Agreed; they're all afraid to oppose Rome because their careers depend on being acquiescent. Shit heads!'

'How do you get on with Tom Fitzpatrick? Is he a good guy to work with?'

'Yeah . . . he's pretty much what you see is what you get. He's also a good detective; he's ( _sounding excited_ ) offered to smooth the way for me to become a detective, and I'm gonna take him up on that. I like the brain work; the mystery and the challenge.'

'That sounds great Gloria, go for it girl, I reckon you'd make a good dic. Now what about Billy; I want to see him before I go home and change.'

Right; let's go and find the little bugger . . .'

###

. . ., who was sitting up in a chair looking dangerous. His face split into a wide toothy grin when Gloria and Barry entered.

'Hey, hey . . . Missus Gloria, Mr. Barry! I'se gotta thank you'se for cumin 't sees me. It sure is borin' here; I'se got nudding to do. Oh hey Mr. Barry . . . I'se sorry 'bout Mr. Jeff; he Ok?'

'Yeah Billy, he'll be Ok. He's in good hands and mending slowly. But we're here to ask about you. How're you coming on? I heard you took a real beating. I've been worried 'bout yer footy training. What's the doctor say?'

'Arr . . . they'se know nudding; can't tell Billy what's for. I been walking and the psycho lady ( _both Gloria and Barry laughed at Billy's wrong pronunciation_ ) she been practicing on me. But I'se got one back de udder day; as she massaged me, I let go a big, smelly fart. Like as not knocked her out; ha, ha.'

Billy's infectious banter relaxed Gloria and Barry and they enjoyed his lighthearted attitude; then Barry got serious.

'Whoever attacked you mate was a miserable coward; you told the cops that he was a big white guy and plenty muscled. Did he make any threats against you; I mean did you have any inkling that he was gonna turn nasty?'

'( _Slowly and thoughtfully_ ) Yep, I'se did. Fact is I'll never forget the mongrel's face; every time he wacked me his face all twisted up nasty like. I'se dinna stand a chance Mr. B; he just inta me, bloody fists the size of donkey turds an' plenty muscled to hit me hard. That was bad 'nough Mr. B but ( _voice trembling_ ) why, why he have to piss all over me an' spit on me face. Why, Mr. B why?'

'Stop! . . . Hey that's enough Billy; there's a lady present.'

'Oh . . . Geeze, sorry Miss Gloria; didn't mean no offense'

'Relax Billy; would you recognize him again?'

'Yep . . . I'se would. Ya doan forget someone who's pissed all over you'se. I'd as like to get the fucker and shove a didgeridoo up his arse. And me mum and dad would like to get the witchdoctor onto his case; when we'se finished he won't look good. How we'se gonna get the cunt miss Gloria, eh how?'

'That's fine Billy . . . real good, but I've got an idea that just might work. I've checked it out with Tom Fitzpatrick and he agreed to the plan. But you have to be able to move around freely. What does your doctor say?'

'That I'se the most attractive, sexy, gorgeous ( _Bazz and Gloria started laughing)_ and generous boy he's ever seen.? But I reckon coupla nurses are keen to 'speriment with me shlong and I hopes not to disappoint dem. You want me to save one for you Mr.B?'

'( _Still laughing)_ No, I don't think so. You'd better watch yerself Billy; the doctor may order a dose of castor oil, followed by an enema . . . a big enema.'

'What's an enemy?'

'Not enemy, but an enema. It's when they pump yer arse full with soapy water to make you go to the toilet real big. . . not good.'

'Don' worries Mr. Bazz; I'se can look after me self. No one's gunna shove an enemy up Billy's arse without a fight.'

Laughing, Gloria and Barry left Billy to annoy the hospital staff. As they walked down the corridor, Gloria said,

'He's so open and uncomplicated; you just can't help loving Billy. Also, he's a survivor.'

'Yep, he is that. I reckon he'll have all the nursing staff in stitches.'

### Chapter Ten

'Yeah, it's a bit of a stretch but with luck it should work; how's the lad doing?'

Fitzpatrick and Gloria were sitting in Cree's old office, and she had just outlined her plan to flush out Billy's assailant.

'He's doing great; it's in credible how he's not only overcome his physical injuries but mentally and emotionally he doesn't show any effects of trauma. He's like a proverbial red rubber ball; the harder you bounce it, the higher it bounces back. ( _Sigh_ ) I wish.'

'Yeah, I understand what you mean. You know ( _wistfully_ ), this case is screwy. With every other case I've had to handle, I've been presented with a definite suspect, but have had to go looking for evidence to nail the perp. Now we've got lots of evidence but no leads to the perp. That's why I want you to go ahead with your plan. It just might work and that would be a good start.'

'Ok, I'm glad you agree; I feel a bit shitty using the kid for our purposes, but knowing Billy, he'll completely understand. **'**

'Gloria, sometimes in detective work, the means do justify the ends and we have to make a judgment call to solve the case, don't worry, I'll have your back. When do you think you'll put your plan into action?'

'Depends when Billy's strong enough, but I reckon a Friday night is the best time. Incidentally, I did mention my idea to Billy and he became enthusiastic. He thinks it's a game.'

'Well, in a way it is; but a very dangerous game. Bye the way, how's Cree's younger brother progressing? Do you think he tried to kill himself? Christ Almighty, I mean finding your own brother, and in particular a piece of shit like Laurie Cree, fucking your wife would send anyone round the bend and want to kill . . . either yourself or the other shithead.'

'Yeah ( _nodding her head_ ) it would certainly unbalance any normal person; and add to that he was fragile and trying to cope with other problems.'

'. . . Which are . . . ?'

'His marriage to Cynthia is foundering and I suspect he's also got himself involved with an indigenous girl . . . um, that's just hearsay so don't go quoting me on that.'

'Oh great, when will these young idiots learn to keep their peckers under control; they don't have any understanding of sexual responsibility.( _sigh_ ) well enough of that; go and start putting your plan together, and just keep me informed.'

'Will do.'

###

'Hey Barry, just finished going over the plan with Tommy Fitz and I've got good news and better news. What do you prefer?'

'I'll let you be the judge.'

'Well, Fitzpatrick has ok'd the plan I outlined for you the other day; left it in my hands to implement.'

'And . . . ?'

'Jeff's awake! On the way to see Billy, I dropped in for a look . . . and there, large as life, was Jeffry sitting up in bed . . .'

'Hey, that's good news. I wonder how he feels when he realizes what he tried to do. As a mate I'd better look in and help him recover; even I get angry whenever the image of Cree fucking Cynthia pops up.'

'Wow, slow down, his head's still bandaged, so I doubt if you'll get much conversation from him. He's also like to be disorientated, and may have trouble remembering what happened. He'll need a lot of time to get back to normal.'

Hey, sorry, sorry; great that you can proceed with the plan involving Billy Have you talked to him about what you want him to do?'

'Not specifically, no. I'm gonna do that tomorrow; and if you see Jeff, will you give him my love.'

###

Barry could feel some apprehension as he neared Jeff's room; how would he handle Jeff's apparent attempt at suicide. Anyhow, moving him out of intensive care to the general population was a very reassuring sign. Jeff was sitting up in bed watching the small TV screen provided by the hospital. He looked relaxed.

'Hey . . .'

'Hey . . .'

( _Awkward Silence_ . . .)

Oh man, ( _Speaking as one_ ) geeze it's good . . . ( _they both laughed_ )

Then . . .

'Shit ( _concerned_ ) Jeffry Cree, you had me genuinely worried. The last time I visited, you were at death's door. Christ, you looked a mess; all those tubes sticking out and that bloody monitor going 'beep' 'beep' all the time. We all thought we'd lose you and . . . why did you do such a stupid thing like that; if it wasn't for the air bag you would've been killed.'

'Yeah ( _softly_ ) I must've looked bad. Didn't realize how bad until I woke up and saw all the medical stuff around me. Couldn't bring meself to watch those monitors though; like watching a horror movie where the subject is you. Luckily, I went back to sleep and when I woke up most of the stuff had been removed. A pretty nurse came in later and told me I'll be OK.'

'Ummm, has Rita been in, ( _hesitantly_ ) . . . or Cindy?'

'Don't know. I'd like to see Rita but I guess she'll stay away because . . . well, I don't know, why should she stay away? I love her and hopefully, she loves me. I'm gonna be a father Bazz - me a dad. But I've got to deal with Cynthia sometime; I just can't get the image of me own brother fucking me wife . . .'

'Is that why you tried to destroy. . .'

'Oh, no, no. Please don't think that. No! The fact is I wasn't trying to 'off' meself. No! Never! Suicide is a coward's way out. I may be a dick-head but I'm not a coward; well, I don't believe I am. Things just sort of piled up and catching Laurie . . . ( _pause_ ), I . . . do you know what happened with Cindy? ( _Barry nodded yes)_ well, I was in shock I guess; it wasn't just Cindy being unfaithful, after all she'd fucked half the white men in town . . .'

'You knew . . .?'

'Yeah, of course I knew. I mean, I'd lost interest in her, both emotionally and sexually. I knew she needed to get serviced . . . can't blame her . . . so I just turned a blind eye to her 'adventures'. Fact is . . . shit – what a mess.'

'So you . . .'

'I just got in my car and drove like hell to get away from the whole mess. I can't even remember how fast I was driving or hitting the bloody tree.'

So absorbed they were in conversation, that they didn't hear anything until a soft voice asked,

'Hey Mr. Jeff, glad to see you'se awake now. I came before but you'se were sleeping wid all dose tubes an' things comin' outta ya. Feelin' better?'

'Rita, Rita . . . glad to see you, y'know Barry Thompson hey?'

'Yeah, cause I knows Mr. Barry, he be kin to cuzin Billy . . . hey, Mr. Bazz; you'se good eh?'

'Yeah Rita, I'm good and I reckon you're look'n well. Jeff here has told me 'bout the baby'

Giving Rita a gentle hug and a wink to Jeff, Barry continued,

. Look, I'm outta here; best I leave you two young'uns to each other. I'll catch you later Jeffry and Rita, you take care . . . hey.'

When Barry departed, Rita slid up on the bed and gave Jeffry a long kiss; the taste of her lips raised Jeff's hormone level to an alarming high.

_Jesus, she's good to feel, touch, and smell. I've got a throbbing erection; lucky I've got a sheet covering me or I'd be stressed out_. _C'mon, boy . . . get some self-control._

Rita laid back in Jeff's arms in such a way as to rest her breast in the crook of his arm. This excited Jeff and he bent down to kiss her welcoming lips passionately . . .

'WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY HUSBAND? MY GOD . . . YOU'RE KISSING HIM!

Rita turned round at the sound of the voice, and came face to face with a very enraged Cynthia. It was a tabloid captured at a moment of time. Jeffry, still supporting Rita's head, stared at Cynthia who, stared with open disbelief towards the two people. It was Cindy, who broke the impasse,

'I REPEAT . . . WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY HUSBAND?'

Rita, becoming aggressive responded,

'What does it look like . . . I'm kissing him; and keep your voice down, this is a hospital and you're disturbing the other patients.'

'YOU DIRTY LITTLE ABBO! GET AWAY FROM MY HUSBAND; YOU'RE JUST A DIRTY COON, TRYING TO CONVERT MY MAN TO YOUR FOUL DISGUSTING HABITS. LEAVE HIM ALONE!

At this point, a nurse came running into the room and demanded,

'Please, be quiet; consider the other patients. If you have to abuse each other, do it outside. Any more outbursts and I'll ask you all to leave. Do I make myself clear . . . do I?'

'Yes answered Jeff, I hear you; you're right, we won't raise our voices ( _looking directly at Cynthia) . . ._ will we?'

The nurse departed with a withering glance at each person. Rita was about to respond when Jeff forestalled her,

'Cynthia, please . . . please hear what I have to say. ( _Pause_ ) I'm in love with Rita; probably have been for some time now. I know Rita feels the same _(she nodded agreement)_ about me. ( _Pause_ ) You know our marriage has been a joke, unsatisfactory for both of us. I know you've been fucking around and I don't blame you for it. You're only human and being a healthy woman you have to discharge your sexual needs; sexual needs that I couldn't satisfy.'

'Hold on, if you think that sweet talk is gonna . . .'

'Let ( _sternly_ ) me finish. We're all adults here and it's about time we started acting as adults. You don't love me and I don't love you, so let's end this sham and try and get on with our lives.'

Both Cynthia and Rita simply stared at Jeff, stunned by his self-confidence and taking control. Suddenly, gone was the passive Jeff, replaced by an assertive Jeff.

'But let's have an end to all this name calling and threats. I don't really care what you think of me, because now I'm free; free to get on with my life and with the person I love, so why don't we bury the hatchet and try and start anew. We can still be friends, Cindy. And just for the record, I could resort to name calling, but I choose not to as that would not be helpful.'

'Friends! ( _Furious_ ) friends! I'd like to bury the hatchet in your head. ( _Turning towards Rita)_ And you; you piece of slime, you waved your black ass at my husband to get him to do . . . to do nauseating filthy deeds; I know how your kind operates. You're just a black whore!'

Jeffry fixed Cynthia with a contemptuous stare.

'You know Cynthia; you're a classic case of ignorance coupled with racism. Go see . . . ( _harsh_ ) No, don't interrupt; for once in your life listen to someone else. I was about to say that if you see a doctor, there is a course of treatment that will rid you of racism. You've got a disease which can be cured; given time and determination.'

There followed silence. Rita gave Jeff's hand a squeeze to show her support with Jeff's stand against Cynthia. With a contemptuous sneer, Cynthia turned around and stormed out of the room. Jeff and Rita just looked at each other and burst out laughing.

'Wow, I'm rapt Jeffry Cree, you handled that impressively.

###

Barry's mobile rang as he was leaving the hospital.

'Barry, it's Gloria. I'm gonna put my plan into action this Friday. I'd like you to be with me 'cause you can handle Billy better than I can. I thought we'd start about 5.00 pm if that's alright with you?'

'Sure Gloria, I'll be there. Incidentally, I've just left Jeff; he's looking better and when Rita turned up he positively glowed. I'll fill you in when we meet. It's looking good.

Great; give the boy my love and best wishes.'

'Will do.'

### Chapter Eleven

Friday night at the RSL teemed with guys enjoying the end of the workweek with other guys. Saturday night was more formal and reserved for wives and partners; it was the time to 'dress up'.

Gloria and Barry brought Billy into the main bar room at the RSL about 5.00 pm and quickly found a table that had a good view of both the entrance and the room. Billy was excited, as indigenous people were discouraged from visiting the club. There wasn't a prescribed rule against blackfellas but just the same, indigenous folk always felt uncomfortable being in the club.

Billy being only sixteen wasn't allowed to be in the club premises, let alone be served alcoholic drinks. When they sat down, Gloria outlined the plan again.

'We've got a good view of the entrance and the main bar; I want you ( _indicating Billy_ ) to simply keep a watch out to see if you recognize the man who assaulted you. Simple?'

'Yeah, but whats if he doan come, whattaya gunna do?

'Come up with another plan. But I'm sure he'll front tonight, so let me worry about that.'

'Gloria, how's about I fetch some drinks?'

'Thanks Barry, I'll have a lite beer and Billy will have . . .?'

'A southern comfort . . . with ice!'

'Billy ( _frowning at Billy)_ will have a soft drink . . . lemonade!'

Barry went off to the bar leaving Gloria and Billy watching the entrance door.

Geeze, I've really taking a big risk. After all the trouble I've had with the RSL manager just to get an underage Billy admitted to the club , the whole matter could turn out to be a waste of time..

Barry came back with the drinks and they settled down to what could become a long night. Six o'clock came and went and still no one arrived that Billy could positively identify. Gloria was getting more and more anxious. At seven o'clock Gloria excused herself and went to relieve herself, hurrying back so that Barry could escort Billy to the toilet **.** She waited alone and gave a casual wave to Robyn Ballard and her husband as they found a table nearby.

This looks like a failure; all the men folk would have left for home and only a few couples will come at this late hour. When Billy comes back, I think I'll call it a night.

In the toilet, Billy started to direct his penis stream playfully around the urinal wall, earning a savage rebuke from Barry, who told him to grow up and don't be an arsehole. When they had finished Billy said to Barry,

'Looks like dat man ain't gonna show, eh? Can't you slip me a little gin in me lemonade Mr. Bazz; I'se gett'n bored and Miss Gloria won't know. Please Mr. Bazz.'

'No can do, Billy; you'll get me into trouble. Anyway, you're underage and shouldn't even be in the club.'

Leaving the rest room Barry followed Billy back to their table, but half way to the table Billy stopped dead. In a few strides, Bazz caught up and faced Billy, whose color had drained from his face.

'Whats up mate; you look as white as a sheet; what's wrong?'

'Dat's him!' was all he said as he hurried back to the table.

'Miss Gloria ( _getting angry_ ) Dat's him. Dere, he's sitt'n over dere. Look!'

Both Gloria and Barry ( _now alarmed)_ turned around to where Billy was pointing, which was at Robyn Ballard . . . and her husband Karl. Karl Ballard!

'I'se gonna kill the bastard ( _Barry grabbed hold of him_ ) let me go Mr. Barry let me at 'im.'

Barry now held an almost frenzied Billy in restraint.

'Are you sure Billy; are you sure!'

'Yeah, ( _struggling_ ) yeah 'cause I'se sure Mr. Barry; whose gonna forget a bugger whose beat ya half to death and pissed on ya.'

For what seemed an eternity Barry ( _still holding a squirming Billy_ ) and Gloria looked at each other, then without any hesitation Gloria got up and walked over to the Ballard's table.

'Hi Robyn: look Karl, I'm gonna ask you to come down the station with me. Nothing serious but your name has come up in relation to an enquiry we're conducting and I'd like to get the matter sorted. Sorry, but it won't take too long.'

'What's wrong Gloria, ( _an alarmed Robyn asked)_ Why do you want to drag Karl down to the cops shop, whats he done?'

'I'd rather not go into that here, Robyn, we just . . .'

'Hey ( _Billy shouted so that all could hear)_ arsehole, I recognize you'se. I remember you cunt; I remembers yer bashing the shit outta dis poor young abbo and den pissing all overs me. Faggot! If'n the cop's doan get you, us blackfellas will! C'mon . . . ( _ummp_ )'

Smothering Billy's mouth, Barry stopped the diatribe.

'Karl! ( _Robyn demanded angrily_ ) What's he talking about? What did the kid mean, bashing and then urinating? Please tell me what's going on!'

'Robbie, ( _pleading_ ) I don't know anything about this revolting accusation. I mean these black coons disgust me. You know that; this is just wrong and I'm gonna demand an apology from the police for humiliating me – you betcha.'

'Karl, _(Gloria being reasonable)_ I understand your anger, but if you'll just come with me peaceably, we can straighten out the matter. But you do understand I'm only doing my job.'

At the same time, Barry was fighting a losing battle trying to restrain Billy, who eventually broke free and headed for Karl shouting,

'You mongrel, ( _shouting and livid with anger_ ) you'se called me a black coon. Yeah, it all right for you and other whities to come and get the sex from our young'un's and plead for more; it's alright for dem churchies to come a 'pleading for our young Sheila's and boys to give 'em head jobs an 'all. But we'se not allowed into yer clubs an' pubs. Ya give me the shits - all of you'se.'

At that, he launched himself at Karl who took several steps backward and crouched to defend himself. Barry saved Karl by making a flying tackle on Billy that hurled him, to the ground. By this time, a large crowd had gathered to witness the fracas. In the center Robyn Ballard sat with a shocked look on her face; Karl went white with either fear or anger; Gloria was hovering near Karl and Barry had Billy pinned against the floor. Into this mess, the RSL manager arrived and promptly ordered all the combatants outside, outside of the club.

Gloria picked up Karl's glass and put it in an evidence bag that she always carried with her.

'Karl, come with me so we can get the whole matter settled soonest. Robyn, if you want you can follow in your car; but you'll have to wait at the station whilst we interview Karl. At this, Robyn started crying and Karl was doing his best to console her.

Poor Robyn, she doesn't know the shit Karl's in. I must make a special effort to comfort her when we're through with Karl. She's a lovely girl and doesn't deserve this.

Barry, frog-marched Billy out to his car and took him to the police station where he formerly identified Karl as his assailant. With some difficulty, they restrained Billy from assaulting the man; but his language was very colorful.

###

Gloria alerted Tom Fitzpatrick and it was in Cree's office that they interviewed Karl Ballard. They sent Karl's beer glass straight to forensics to obtain any DNA. Prior to the interview, they asked Karl to provide a sample for DNA purposes but not surprisingly, he refused.

Once the preliminaries were over Fitzpatrick asked,

'You have been identified by Mr. Billy Yorta as the man who assaulted him. What have you to say to that?'

'That's bullshit, total bullshit! He's lying. I mean, how can you take the word of an abbo against a white man . . . Huh? Christ almighty. Everyone knows me. Ask anyone around town, they'll tell you I'm a straight bloke who loves his family; I'm a member of Rotary and support the local footy club. It doesn't make sense.'

'Well, ( _from Fitzpatrick)_ we also have DNA derived from a urine and sputum sample that was taken off the boy's body by forensics. We have the glass you were using at the club and are now processing the DNA from that. If your sample agrees with the specimen taken off the boy, we'll have conclusive evidence. Do you understand?

'Yes,' ( _begrudgingly_ )

'And you still maintain your innocence?'

'Yes. ( _Uncomfortable_ )

'Do you want legal representation?'

'No, ( _slowly_ ) I've got nothing to hide!'

'Ok, then; Karl Ballard I'm arresting you for the attack on Billy Yorta which resulted in grievous bodily harm. We'll place you in a cell overnight for arraignment before a magistrate on the morrow. Gloria, you can take him away.'

With the formalities concluded and Karl placed in an overnight cell, Barry took an agitated Billy back to Barry's home for the night. Gloria tried to pacify Robyn who was in a state of shock.

'Robyn, can I drive you home; you must be exhausted and probably shocked by the turn of events? I guess you're anxious to get home to little Peter?'

Thanks ( _in a daze)_ Gloria; I can't get my mind around all this. I know Karl; a wife gets to know what her man is or isn't capable off. And this just isn't Karl; he may be big but I've never seen him use violence . . . ( _choke_ ) and to suggest he. . . ( _choking_ ) on that boy is just . . . _(her voice tailed off)'_

'I hope you're right, but right now the evidence is not going Karl's way. But when the DNA results come back, we'll know once and for all. Just in case, you should look to getting legal representation; if you don't have anyone, I can give you the name of a decent bloke who is very good . . . and not extortionate.'

'Thanks, Gloria, I know you're only doing your job and appreciate the help. Oh God, what am I gonna tell little Peetie? He adores his father.'

'First things first, let's get you home. I'll have one of the boys drop your car back tomorrow.'

On the morrow, Karl came before a magistrate and charged with inflicting Grievous Bodily Harm on Billy. He pleaded not guilty. Bail was set, and his case fixed for two weeks hence.

###

On the day of his discharge from hospital, they wheeled Jeff from his room to where Rita and Barry waited at the hospital entrance. Beforehand, Jeff had told Cynthia not to attend as he was going to go home to Barry's house. There seemed little point in arguing, because both Jeff and Cindy knew the marriage was over.

For Jeff the drive home to Barry's house was surreal, as if a long journey had reached an end. In the back seat, he cuddled Rita whose hand then journeyed slowly up to his responsive groin.

'Stop that,' he whispered. 'I'll make a mess of meself; we'se got some talk'n to do before we can . . . you know. Anyway, how do you feel honey 'bout livin' the rest of yer life with me?'

'I ( _hesitantly_ ) . . . I'm not sure; it's as if all my fantasies are about to come true. I never dreamed that one day I would be going home with you as your lover; I am your girl . . . aren't I Jeffry?'

'Jesus Rita, don't be so insecure! 'Yes, yes and yes. We've got obstacles to overcome but my love for you is so intense, we'll triumph. I love you baby and with the littl'un coming we've got the beginnings of a happy family. I've never felt so sure of anything before in my life; have you talked to your folks yet?'

'Yeah, to me mum and she's cool. Me dad's a problem but with me mum on side I reckon It'll be OK, but where we'se gonna live? Ain't no room at home an' no goin' to your place; what's we gonna do, hey?'

'No problem,' said Barry turning his head. 'No problem, you'll stay with me. I gotta spare room and you'd be doin' me a favor keeping company. Don't need no rent 'cause mines free ( _a little lie; his rent is subsidized but no reason to mention that)._ We'll just share living expenses but we'll work that out later. It's cool.'

'Hey man, you sure? I mean that would be just fantastic; we'd be real grateful. Hey Rita, whatta ya say?'

'I'm so happy I don't know what to say. If my ol' man knows we'se got a home for the baby he'll be easy to deal with; thanks Mr. Barry thanks heaps.'

'Hey Rita, please call me Barry or Bazz; drop the 'Mr.'; we'll be livin' together so let's not get formal like, Ok'

So they arrived at Barry's home; Jeff and Rita settled into the spare room, with all the humble possessions they had at this time.

'Hey folks, Barry yelled. 'Coffee's ready. Gotta drink up quick; I gotta class real soon.'

Over coffee, they discussed plans and simple housekeeping needs for the new arrangement. Then Barry left. In the ensuing silence Jeffry and Rita looked at each other until Jeff,

'Honey, I can't wait any longer. Can we . . .? '

Rita responded by taking Jeff's hand and leading him into their new bedroom. With agonizing slowness, she undressed Jeff, kissing and using her tongue to drive him crazy. Then she unbuttoned his fly, exposed his painfully erect member, and she took him in her mouth commencing oral masturbation.

'Oh man, that's so good. Jesus Rita you'll have me like t' explode; I need to be in you baby, quick now please.'

He started to undress Rita until her full naked beauty; her small pointed breasts and furry virgina, lay there for his taking.

'Come t' me Jeff, I'se all wet an' eager for you. I can't wait; take me quick please.'

Jeff straddled Rita on the bed; effortlessly he entered her well-lubricated Virginia until his penis penetrated to the full. They both gave moans of pleasure as Jeff started to slide in and out. He looked down on his lovers face and the pleasure well writ, gave his passion more urgency. With each thrust, Jeff could feel his passion increase until a familiar wave of pleasure announced the beginning of his orgasm.

Rita could feel the sense of urgency increase in Jeff's thrusting; she could feel her own orgasm beginning to engulf her. With a loud moan, Jeff climaxed and Rita could feel his life carrying juice explode within. As Jeff maintained his frantic plunging, her own delicious climax overwhelmed her and their juices combined.

Breathlessly, they rolled apart and silently lay in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

What a lucky guy I am. I never thought I'd find someone who could satisfy me as much as Rita does. I just know she loves me and that she'll be faithful - only of course, if I treat her right. The wonder is that in a short period of time I've found a real friend and fallen in love with the most desirable woman on the planet. Surely, it can't get any better than this.

###

Gloria and Tom Fitzpatrick were having coffee and analyzing the case as it stands. Gloria asked,

'When the DNA results come back do you think Ballard will stick to his innocent plea?'

'Depends ( _taking a sip of coffee_ ), depends on whether he's got a good legal mouthpiece. In some cases, even when the evidence is against a perp, they maintain their innocence, hoping to get a sympathetic jury. All it really does is create more problems by extending the torment; the downside is that, if the perp is eventually found guilty, the judge hands down a much harder sentence.'

'Yeah, ( _Gloria thoughtfully stirred her coffee_ ) I'm concerned about his family, his wife and son Peter. Robyn will have to be the sole provider now; it won't be easy to raise a son in this town where everyone knows yer business. That's the trouble with small country towns; you don't have much privacy.'

'Hey Gloria, don't take it on personally. Ballard made his choice when he criminally assaulted the abbo kid; don't get too involved. If you're gonna become a detective you'll see a lot of tragedy, but you can't take it personal.'

'Yeah, I guess I am; but here's the thing, Ballard will probably get three to five years ( _Fitzpatrick nodded_ ) in a low security farm but the family has to live with the fall out every day; they become the real victims don't they?'

'Yep, you're right; you're a really decent person Gloria, I just hope you don't let the fallout destroy you personally. ( _Sigh_ ) I can't help thinking that if Cree was still here, he'd probably just issue a warning to Ballard and not charge . . .'

There was a loud knock on the door and a forensic technician came rushing in.

'Hey ( _breathless_ ) you're not gonna believe this – the DNA results are finished and they are positive to the sample . . .'

'( _Interrupting_ ) Well, ( _turning to Gloria_ ) that's it then, that means he can't deny he assaulted the abbo kid. We've got DNA proof as well as being physically identified . . .'

'No, No! You don't understand. Yes, the DNA is a match for the abbo boy but . . . it's also the same DNA that we extracted from the murdered brother err . . . Brother Simon.'

There was a numbing silence. Fitzpatrick and Gloria looked at each other in disbelief. Eventually,

'Are you sure?' ( _From both Fitzpatrick and Gloria)._

'( _Indignantly)_ Of course I'm sure! And before you ask . . . yes, I've double-checked; the two DNA samples are the same. No question of it!'

Then Fitzpatrick asked,

'How ( _slowly_ ) did this come about? What made you go looking at the murder DNA when you were only working on the assault specimen?'

'Well, ( _carefully_ ) when you get to work with many DNA samples you get a sense of those which are similar and those which are unique. The two DNA samples were in the latter category so it was easy to remember the likenesses. At first, I thought I was mistaken but after doing comparisons, I knew my hunches were right; they are the same, and I've had another scientist agree with me. It's been corroborated, for sure.'

'But, (a _stunned Gloria_ ) why would Karl Ballard want to kill Brother Simon; it doesn't make sense?'

'No, ( _equally_ _baffled Fitzpatrick_ ) I agree; it doesn't. We've always assumed that killing Brother Simon was related to the killing of Ruth Jalla; boy, now it's getting really bizarre'

'It's ridiculous Tom, it's absolutely ridiculous. Karl has always been hostile to the indigenous people; there has to be another reason.'

'Well, there's only one way to find out. I'm sorry Gloria, but you'll have to bring him in again.'

'Shit!'

##

When Robyn Ballard opened the door, Gloria was stunned at her appearance. Dark circles around her eyes bespoke of sleepless nights and without makeup, her face looked haggard and empty.

Christ, look at the poor woman; and I'm gonna make it worse.

'Hi Robyn, look is Karl around? We'd like him to come down to the Police station again because something has come up and we need to talk to him.'

Then Karl came to the door and demanded,

'What the fuck is going on? Can't you bastards leave me alone? What do you want now? Haven't you fucked up our lives enough?'

'Sorry Karl, but we need you to come down the station again; something has come up in relation to the charge and we need clarification. We won't take long.'

'No! I'm not saying another word. My lawyer has told me not to say anything more.'

'Please Karl, don't make it difficult. You have to come with us. If you don't come willingly, I'll have to arrest you again.'

'Karl! ( _Near_ _hysterical_ ) what's happening. What have you done now? Gloria; why do you want to arrest Karl again? I can't . . . ( _breaking down and sobbing hysterically)._

Little peter came rushing out and threw his arms around his mother.

'Mummee, mummee whats wrong? Please don't cry! Please mummee.'

'Karl . . .? Gloria encouraged.

'All right, all right I'll come. But I'm not gonna say anything without my solicitor being present! Stay here Peter and look after your mother.'

###

Whilst waiting for Ballard's solicitor to arrive, Fitzpatrick and Gloria discussed how the interview would proceed.

'Gloria, we'll play the good cop/bad cop routine; you can be the good cop and I'll come on strongly. He's a tough nut so a brutal approach is out. We don't want him to clam up; we want him talking. Once he starts talking, leave the rest to me. Ok?'

After they all sat down and the formal identification of participants established, Gloria opened the innings,

'Karl, the DNA results are in and unfortunately there is a match. Your DNA is the same as the DNA taken off the young boy, Billy Yorta.'

'Bullshit! You've made a mistake.'

'So you still deny your involvement even though we have a DNA match and a physical identification by the victim. Which is incorrect?'

'All of it! It's all bullshit. You're taking the word of a blackfella over a decent white man. ( _His solicitor leaned over and whispered to Ballard_ ).

'I'm sorry; I didn't mean to discriminate against blackies but yer just plain wrong, wrong! I never bashed the little fucker up!'

'Don't shit _(Fitzpatrick harshly)_ us Ballard; we've got you dead to rights; if you persist with this stupid approach you'll go to trial and when, and I mean when found guilty, the judge will hand down a savage sentence to you.'

Silence, as Ballard and Fitzpatrick glared at each other. Then Gloria,

'The Detective Inspector's right Karl, judges don't like accused wasting the courts time when so much evidence is against them. There's no wriggle room here Karl. Think about little Peter and Robyn; wouldn't it be better to get a lighter sentence so you can be out sooner. ( _His solicitor again leaned over and whispered in Ballard's ear.)_

Then Arthur ( _the solicitor_ ) asked,

'So what's on the table here? Do we, or can we reach a deal?'

'Ummm . . . ( _Fitzpatrick musing thoughtfully_ ), there will have to be some time served. I can swing the prosecutor to two years in a prison farm. I'm sure both he and the judge will go along with that.'

'Then I ask that I be allowed to confer with my client privately to consider your offer.'

Gloria and Fitzpatrick waited outside whilst Arthur conferred with Ballard. Unfortunately, there was no see through window to view what was transpiring in the other room.

After a short interval, Tom and Gloria rejoined Karl and his solicitor. It was a different Karl Ballard. Gone was the hostility and aggression; he sat slumped forward with his hands on the table. It was a posture of defeat.

'We have talked the matter over and in view of the evidence I've recommended my client accept your offer. Of course ( _Fitzpatrick made an odd sound as if clearing his throat_ ), we'll need to have an agreement in writing . . .'

The door opened and a uniform cop approached Fitzpatrick and said,

'Detective Inspector, sorry but you're needed urgently outside!'

'Can't it wait; I'm in the middle . . .'

'Sorry sir, no! You must come now.'

Reluctantly Fitzpatrick got up and went with the cop outside. Gloria who knew what was afoot, remained sitting. Around ten minutes passed and then Fitzpatrick re-entered the room. His face registered dismay and anger. Sitting down, he glared at Karl Ballard, letting the silence build up. Then,

'I have just been told that your DNA, as well as agreeing with the specimen taken from the young aboriginal boy, also matches DNA taken off the murdered priest . . . Brother Simon.'

Fitzpatrick's carefully orchestrated statement produced the desired impact.

The solicitor looked stunned; his mouth fell open with dismay. Karl Ballard went intensely white; he slumped back in the chair and appeared crushed. He was so much in shock that he became mute. His solicitor recovered first.

'Are you sure? After all DNA matches can be wrong!'

'Oh ( _disdainfully_ ) come on Arthur, you know that's bullshit. Sure, in the early days DNA profiling was sometimes inaccurate, but nowadays it's basically one hundred percent accurate; you know that.'

'Well where and how was the sample taken?'

'We extracted it from the sputum taken off the severed genitals of Brother Simon. We have a good specimen and it's been separately corroborated.'

( _Turning to Karl_ ) Karl, what do you have to say to the evidence?'

'I'm ( _slowly and unconvincingly_ ) not guilty, not guilty.'

'Again, I warn you Ballard not to waste our time; we've got you dead to rights on the bashing charge and now we have corroborated evidence that you killed Brother Simon. I mean the fact that your DNA is all over the dead man's severed penis means you were at the scene of the murder.'

"Karl ( _Gloria interjected)_ we know you killed Brother Simon but we don't know why! I mean if you had a valid cause that will alleviate your custodial sentence you have to tell us. Why Karl, Why?'

'I ( _shouting_ ) DIDN'T KILL THE FUCKER! LEAVE ME ALONE!

'BULLSHIT! BALLARD. We can go round and round like this. I've got all the time in the world. Just tell us why you killed the priest. If you had a good reason, then that's something I'm sure the court will take that into account.'

And so the interview progressed with Fitzpatrick pushing Karl ( _without harassing him_ ). Karl kept up his position that he didn't kill Brother Simon, but as he got tired, his entreaties became less forceful. Eventually, after about two hours Karl put his head in his hands and started sobbing. The room was silent except for Karl Ballard, now a broken man, sobbing his heart out.

They waited. Arthur urged Karl not to say anything without talking to him first. But,

'No, No, No! . . . I done it! I killed the bastard. I killed the bastard and shoved his filthy catholic cock down his gob!

Then Gloria,

Why Karl, why?

'Cause little Ruthie Jalla is ( _choke_ ) . . . was me daughter!

###

A profound silence followed Ballard's shock announcement. Then Gloria recovered her composure,

'( _Softly_ ) you're daughter . . . Ruth Jalla was you're daughter! How?'

Karl didn't reply immediately . . . he sagged back against his chair and his eyes were unfocussed. He seemed to stare at Gloria and Fitzpatrick without seeing anyone. Eventually he emerged from his catatonic state and responded,

'Ruthie's mum and I became friends when we were young'uns at school; as we grew up I became attracted, dreadfully attracted to her in the usual way. She was very pretty and . . . well I just couldn't leave her alone. She felt the same about me . . . she did! We should've got married but, well, you know . . . it was socially unacceptable for darkies and whitees to marry. I ( _sob_ ) . . .'

They all waited for Karl to regain his composure . . . and then,

'We couldn't leave each other alone. I used to pick her up secretly and we'd drive somewhere safe where we wouldn't be seen. I . . . I really loved her; and she ( _choke_ ) loved me. However, we both realized our affair was doomed; we had to make an awful decision to stop seeing each other. We both cried; it was very painful, extremely painful . . .'

The atmosphere in the room became leaden; three pairs of eyes became riveted on Karl Ballard as he narrated his distressful story. Gloria couldn't help but feel sympathetic; it was the age-old scenario of two lovers torn apart by social conventions. When love happens . . . usually, shit happens!

'. . . , so we parted, she to marry into her tribe and me to marry into my tribe.'

'But ( _from Gloria_ ) your son Peter is older than Ruth, so . . .'

'( _Sigh_ ) that's right; we just kept seeing each other. Our love was too strong to extinguish. We kept seeing each other and eventually, well . . . along came Ruthie. At times, I would take both Ruth and Peter out for a fun day, telling Robyn that I wanted to have good relations with the blackfellas. Robyn never cottoned on! Peter and Ruthie played well with each other and enjoyed the time I spent with them.'

'But Karl, what about Ruth's other father; did he object or did he know that Ruth was your daughter?'

'No Gloria, he never suspected. If he had, I would have been in serious shit! No! I'm confident he didn't know anything.'

'So ( _Fitzpatrick_ ) let's get to when Ruth Jalla was murdered. How did you know it was Brother Simon?'

For several moments, Karl just looked at Fitzpatrick and then looked down and seemed to be talking to himself . . .

'( _Softly_ ) . . . all the while I was preoccupied watching that little Peetie did not come under the clutches of those fucking pedophile priests; I was terrified that he would be abused and damaged for the rest of his life. I never ever considered that little Ruthie would be in danger . . . never! So that when I heard she'd been raped and murdered . . . I . . . went berserk. I knew it had to be one of the monsters up at the college; I mean we all knew what was going on, but we couldn't do or say anything, 'cause that bastard Cree was protecting them. Can you believe that? A copper protecting those fiends for whatever reason I don't know.'

'So you knew it was a priest, but how did you know it was Brother Simon?'

'Oh shit Detective, it wasn't rocket science. I picked that priest because he looked weak, and I thought if I roughed him up enough, he would lead me to the killer. I didn't know it would turn out to be him. He was so consumed with remorse that he spilled his guts when I confronted him; he knew he was gonna be found out and he wanted to confess. Initially all I wanted was bring him into the cops, but then I believed Cree would find some way to let him off. The thought of what he did to my ( _choke_ ) sweet little daughter sent me into an incandescent rage. I went berserk, crazy . . . frenzied. I became a savage . . . an insane savage.'

Ballard stopped and the silent atmosphere in the room became oppressive, almost airless. Gloria found it difficult to breath. Eventually Fitzpatrick broke the crushing silence,

'Karl Marcus Ballard, I'm arresting you for the murder of. . .'

### Cynthia and Laurie

'Well, there's yer proof, the baby's yours Laurie; what are we gonna do?'

They arranged to meet quietly at the coffee shop. Of course, Robin Ballard was no longer waiting on table. It was a sad looking twosome, Laurie now busted from Sergeant, Cynthia facing divorce and life as a single mum. To cap it all it was a filthy winters day; the temperature hovered near freezing and the wind howled through the near empty streets of Waterford. Snow was predicted in the ranges northwest of the town.

'Yeah (slowly) well, I may be a bastard but I'm not callous as people think. The kids mine so I got no intention of avoiding my responsibilities. Ya know I've been given a post outta Swan Hill?'

'I heard what about it? What's that got to do with me?'

'It's to do about us. If I'm gonna look after the little bugger, I want he or she with me; I'm not gonna support you without having some input to the kids welfare. In short, I want you to come with me and start a new life. We're carved off the same block Cindy; let's make a new start together.'

'You want me to come with you to some outback hick town and spend the rest of my life with you? Are you mad, are you crazy?'

'Neither, think about it Cindy, we were attracted to each other right from the start. I think you only went for Jeff because he's good looking, but I know what yer sex needs are and you know I satisfy you. In short, we're a good match; going to a new town will mean a fresh start for both of us.'

'Gee how romantic; are you proposing to me or offering a business deal?'

'This is no time to be a little girl; we're both grown-ups facing a life changing decision. I'm suggesting an arrangement that's good for both of us. Right now, we don't have the luxury of kiddy romance; we just have to make a decision on what's best for you, for me and for the baby. OK?

Silence . . . , Cindy slowly used her spoon to stir her coffee whilst deep in thought. Eventually,

'Yeah, ( _taking a sip of coffee_ ) guess yer right. I can't stay in Waterford and I'm not gonna go somewhere else and bring up a baby just by myself. Have you spoken to Betty?'

'Yeah, ( _letting a rueful smile adorn his otherwise pugnacious face_ ) yeah we've spoken. She did the shouting and I did the listening. Do you want to know what she said about you?'

( _Grinning_ ) I can guess; don't matter to me. I don't think you and her were too close, eh?'

'Nah, she was a fuck'n boor in bed. My feelings for you just didn't happen overnight; I looked forward to our little trysts and gradually lost interest in Betty. Being honest, we weren't good for each other. I reckon you and I can make a good go of it Cindy; who knows, in time we might actually come to love each other.'

( _Sigh_ ) let's see Laurie, let's see.'

### Billy

'What ( _anxious_ ) yer want t'see me 'bout Mr. Bazz? If it's 'bout that mongrel whats done me in, I'se ready to tell everything he done t'me. An' I hears that he's the one who did in that sleazy churchie what killed little Ruthie; 'spose I should thank 'im for dat.'

'Yeah Billy, he's got a lot of problems; I reckon he'll be put away for a long time. But I didn't want to talk to ya 'bout that; it's you I'm concerned about and I thought we should have a good chat.'

'Why, what's I done wrong now?'

( _Laughing_ ) Nothing Billy; you've done nothing wrong. Well that's what I want to talk 'bout.'

There was silence while Barry gathered his thoughts.

'You've got a great future in footy chum and I don't want to see you throw it away doing anything that might be construed as pimping. No, don't interrupt - you know what I mean, just sit and listen to me mate. I reckon you've got a great future in footy but just having a skill does not make anybody a good footy player. You've got to have an education and the necessary social skills to interact with yer teammates and - at times yer adversaries. To give an example, if you use bad language to an umpire he'll penalize you and the coach will definitely take you off the field. If you don't control your behavior, you won't make the team - any team. Do you hear me?

(S _ullenly_ ) yeah, I hears.'

'So this is what I propose for you. I can get you enrolled and boarded at Assumption College just over in Kilmore to enhance your education as well as develop yer footy skills. Now Assumption . . .'

'( _Excitedly_ ) hey, I hears 'bout dat place; ain't it fancy like and 'spensive? How's we gonna pay for it?'

'Don't interrupt; we'll get to that later. Many consider Assumption College to be the nursery of most great footy players. It also has an excellent academic record ; looking at your grades, I reckon you'll do alright. But you've got to apply yerself. Now to answer yer question I've arranged for you to enroll on a scholarship, which means that you'll go there free. Some small contribution will be necessary but I'll talk to yer folks 'bout that. So, what do ya think?'

A change had come over Billy's face; he looked to be on the verge of tears and struggled vainly to keep his composure.

'You'd do ( _choke_ ) . . . you'd do this for me, for Billy? No one has ever done me no favors; I doan know what to say. Me, Billy Yorta t'go to 'Sumption College an' become a footy star I . . . '(tears started to roll down Billy's face and he became silent)

'Its ( _laughing_ ) alright Billy, let it go. I get pleasure out of your happiness. Remember I said you'd board there so you'll only see yer family on term brakes. I hope you understand that.?'

( _Recovering his composure_ ) what yer mean 'bored' there; I doan understand why I'se get bored?'

'No not bored as in uninterested; it means you'd sleep there and take part in all the school activities on a daily basis. You'd probably have to go to the catholic mass but that's a small sacrifice to make.'

Pause. Silent pause.

'Mr. Bazz why you do this for Billy, why? I doan understand. No one's ever done nuth'n nice t'me before.'

'Let's just say I have great confidence in you Billy, both academically and on the footy field. But putting all that aside . . . I like you, and I want to see you get a good start in life. But the teachers, the coach's, team mates and myself can only go so far; in the end it's up to you; if you don't apply yerself no one can do it for you. It's your life Billy - go for it.'

'I'm so happy Mr. Bazz, I doan know what to say but - thanks, I won't let you down ( _pause_ ), but I'm scared, frightened that I'll do the wrong thing. Can you give me any help so's I can handle meself proper like?'

'Best stay real quiet; don't try to be a smartass. Just observe until you gain confidence in the new surroundings. Respect will come from the footy field, just be natural, a quiet natural.'

Mr. Bazz, I love's ya; I'll make ya proud of me.'

### Barry

. On this bitterly cold winters day, on a small hill overlooking Waterford, Barry sat in his car deep in thought. From time to time savage wind gusts slammed into the vehicle making the car rock; outside the temperature hovered near freezing. He was in a reflective mood.

Christ, so much has transpired since that day I pulled into the Marist Brothers car park. But it's all been for the better, I think. So where do I go from here, do I stay or do I move on elsewhere. On the positive side, I've enhanced my reputation in the town and will now take on footy coaching of the young lads at the college. Bro.Dominic has urged me to stay on and continue teaching and I guess I get a good feeling about that. It's really, what I want to do and it's nice being appreciated.

At last, I can think of Wendy without any emotional twinges. I'll find another chick soon enough; there's no need to rush into another relationship. It'll happen, look at Jeff; from having a miserable marriage with Cynthia, he's now settling down happy to be with Rita and the coming kid.

No, I'll stay here at least for another few years; who knows after that.

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