by Derek Haines
‘What’s this?’ David asked, accepting the pill Steve had handed him.
‘Just to lighten your mood. You don’t have to,’ Steve added.
David and Tony looked at each other. Both had a fair idea what they had been offered. Neither had been exposed to drugs of any kind apart from a brief experience with marijuana in their teens.
‘Oh what the hell,’ David exclaimed as he popped the pill and washed it down with a mouthful of beer. He looked at Tony. ‘To hell with everything.’
‘Sorry Steve, this’s where I draw the line in being a fucking musketeer,’ Tony said as he held up his hand and refused Steve’s offering. ‘You two fucking imbeciles do what you want. Red wine suits me fine.’
‘You’re only young once Tony,’ Steve said.
‘Yeah! And only dead once,’ Tony sneered.
‘No sweat Tony. Each to their own huh?’
‘Yup Steve. Each to their own,’ Tony agreed.
‘Nothin’s happened yet,’ David said.
‘Give it time. It will,’ Steve replied.
‘You’re going to get me into trouble one day soon I think,’ David jokingly said to Steve.
‘Don’t blame him,’ Tony butted in. ‘I think you do a good job of getting in the shit all on your own. Steve’s just trying to entertain us on our journey to oblivion.’
‘Oh for fuck sake Tony. Are you gonna join David in looking for a train to jump in front of? You two’re turning into such manic depressives. Lighten up,’ Steve said as he put his arms around his two friends shoulders. ‘Why not just have one night of fun before you consummate your joint suicide pact.’
They finished their drinks at the bar, and Steve ordered two glasses of water and another red wine for Tony.
‘Water?’ David exclaimed.
‘Yeah, water. Now lets see if we can find a seat somewhere. You’ll probably need to sit down shortly. And I have a feeling you might get a little thirsty,’ Steve said, knowing the dehydrating effects of ecstasy.
Within a half an hour, the drug had started to take its effect on David and Steve. A feeling of closeness, of euphoria, of intimate friendship, of wanting to be close. For Steve, he just enjoyed what he was feeling. For David it was a very strange and unknown experience. He made eye contact with a young woman. She was sitting directly opposite him. A marble coffee table between them. She held his gaze. He felt a closeness to this woman he had never met. It wasn’t a sexual attraction. The shining satin blouse she was wearing, flashed in the outer edges of his vision. The centre concentrated on her eyes. He lost any sense of time. He didn’t know if he’d held her gaze for seconds or minutes. His only want was to be closer to her. She was also lost in her ‘E’ induced state. David’s advance towards her was accepted. He sat next to her, their eyes still fixed on each other’s. The only physical contact was the delight David felt in stroking the silken satin sleeve of her blouse.
Tony watched his two friends. ‘In la la land fellas?’ he joked. Neither answered. He sipped his wine and took in the scenery. The young girl that had served their drinks was in clear view. He liked what he saw, but then caught himself thinking that she probably wasn’t much older than his daughter. The thought was disturbing. The separation from his children was something Tony was finding difficult to handle. He was a father, and a bloody good hard working one at that. The feeling that he’d been stripped of any worth as a man was eating at his core. He looked elsewhere. Not having seen his children for a while now, he wondered what would become of them.
Steve left his friends for a short while. He was looking for something to toy with. Fifteen minutes later he returned to where Tony was still seated. He introduced Tony to the young blonde girl he had returned with. She sat between Tony and Steve. Steve played with her hair. She delighted in stroking Tony’s moustache.
The little pill David swallowed was Methylenedioxymethamphetamine. MDMA for short or ecstasy. To most users it is just E. David hadn’t asked what it was. But he was enjoying its effect. He was developing a very irresponsible side to his personality. Steve encouraged it. Tony had his limits, but knew all were reacting to a difficult period in life. Four short months, had made a difference to all three men. All three had had their lives and attitudes changed. They had until now, blamed other people, their women in particular, for their problems. Was it time they accepted that now they could be responsible for inducing their own problems?
As a product to produce and sell, ecstasy is a real money spinner. With the right knowledge, skill and equipment, five hundred dollars worth of chemicals can be turned into two million dollars worth of saleable ecstasy. It was a business that was ultra profitable. David, Tony and Steve were being entertained this evening by a host who knew this equation. The cost of such a lavish party was small change to this man. As any business man will tell you, all business is a matter of risk and return. This man was very astute, and he had to be. He dealt in high risk ventures and naturally expected, and made high returns.
His business interests were broad. To most, he was known as a reputable local car dealer. Well respected and admired for being a supporter of local junior sporting groups, and his office wall was lined with little plaques of appreciation. He was a member of the Chamber of Commerce. To a very few, he was known as the financier of three brothels, (his passion for very young girls was a fringe benefit of this investment) financier of drug production, and the brain behind a stolen car parts enterprise. He was also an employment agent, always on the look out for talent for his various enterprises. Steve had many useful talents that he could exploit. Being a qualified accountant with the additional skills of being an adept thief, genial and polite con man and consummate liar with an intimate knowledge of the drug trade, Vince was beginning to see a bright future for his new employee. Steve was enjoying being in his employ. Within five minutes of meeting David and Tony, Vince Walsh had asked one of his men to find out a little about Steve’s friends. He was a careful man. He was also a very dangerous man.
By two am David and Tony had relaxed into the atmosphere. Steve had disappeared an hour before. They both found a few new acquaintances to spend the evening with, and were now in a group of fifteen or so, enjoying a party within a party. There was no shortage of excess. A seven piece band played near the pool. Food in abundance and alcohol always within reach from the trays of roaming waitresses. A selection of drugs for anyone who asked. Tony watched with great interest at a man’s performance in preparing and snorting cocaine. He’d never seen it before.
‘Is it like snuff?’ he asked a young man in his small group.
‘Yeah, I suppose it is,’ he answered. ‘Better effect though, I’d imagine.’
David was still feeling the effects of his E, but feeling a little more in control of himself.
‘This’s the strangest gathering of people I think I’ve ever seen,’ Tony told David.
‘Sure is,’ David agreed. ‘A bit of everything.’
They both sat silently scanning what they could see from their vantage point. It was an eyeful for two men in their early forties who’d led settled and predictable lives. They couldn’t have imagined just a few months ago, standing together at a social gathering such as this. Had they still been married on this Saturday night, they would’ve been at home watching television, or having dinner with friends. Married suburban lives. However, they weren’t still married. Tonight David took a designer drug. They enjoyed being served alcohol by half dressed young teenage girls. They stood and participated in idle chit chat while a couple had sex on a sofa less than five feet from them. They stood by and watched any number of varieties of drugs being offered and consumed. David beat down Tony’s resistance and they shared a joint late in the evening. Above all, they were trying to block out their pain and anger by enjoying themselves.
‘I could get used to this sort of life,’ David told Tony.
‘Don’t you think we might be a bit old for all of this?’
‘Well, if we aren’t, we soon will be. Might as well g
et it while we can huh?’
‘Get what while we can?’
‘A life?’ David smiled.
‘I’m not sure we’ll find it here?’
By four am Steve found his two friends again. Tony declined the offer to join in the pool orgy. He sat and enjoyed a coffee and cognac while Steve and David enjoyed themselves in the pool.
Vince Walsh had a small fleet of cars and drivers available to take people home. Steve, David and Tony left at six am. They walked back into their flat at six thirty.
‘Goodnight fellas. I’m totally fucked. See you in a few days,’ Tony said as he headed to crash into bed.
David and Steve had coffee, before deciding some rest might be a good idea.
Within three days Vince Walsh had two detailed files delivered to his in tray. One marked ‘David James Holdsworth’. The other one marked, ‘Antonio Leonardi Pilletto’. Each file contained detailed information both financial and personal, and video tape footage from the previous Saturday night of David and Tony. Vince Walsh was a careful and meticulous man. He had a passion for information. He knew its value.
Shadows from the Dark
Resisting Steve and Tony’s drunken assassination plots, David set about his original idea of trying to raise publicity about the problems men suffered during and after marriage breakdown. As he wasn’t working, and bored to tears, he felt it was a worthwhile project. A cause to fight. If nothing else, it would give him some purpose and motivation. At least for a little while. He had an inkling that nobody would be interested, but at least he could try. As he sat down to write his first letter to a newspaper, he pondered for a moment as to what his objectives were. He then started his political crusade with a letter to the editor of the Sydney Morning Herald.
‘Dear Sir,
While appreciating that family breakdown is a traumatic time for all involved, it has concerned me that the effect this dislocation has on men and fathers has been under reported and understated. While appreciating that this subject is of little interest to the general society, and ignored by our politicians, I would ask your readers to recall an incident reported in your newspaper some months ago. It concerned a father who killed himself and his three children during his access weekend. He gassed them and himself in his car. Your report said that he had committed this act due to a Family Court dispute. I would ask your readers to wonder what would drive a father to commit such a horrific act. I highlight this case, but know that this is not the only time this action has been taken by a father. I recall it happening many times in recent years. And they are only the cases I have seen or read in the news. I myself have been through separation and divorce, and maybe I am biased in my attitude and feelings. But just in my small circle of friends and acquaintances I hear tales of woe almost daily of men living in poverty after divorce. Of men suffering clinical depression. Of men being denied their access rights to their children. Of men committing suicide as a result of their separation. Am I wrong in my suspicion that men are getting a raw deal from the Family Law process? Or am I just whinging?
D. Holdsworth.’
David posted his letter. As he walked back from the letterbox, he had the feeling that was the end of his crusade. ‘It won’t get published anyway,’ he thought. Over the next couple of days he listened to talk back radio to see if the subject was raised at all. It wasn’t. He searched the Internet, but only found some stories from the U.S. ‘Looks like I’ll have to find something else to get my teeth into. Maybe practice my violin and become a poor musician. Make some money publishing sick poetry,’ he thought to himself. ‘Well, at least I tried.’
He returned to his flat and spent some time on his computer. Time with his lonely friends in cyberspace. At first he enjoyed the social contact the computer chat supplied. People from all over the world communicating with one another in a free and uncontrolled forum. At any time of the day or night he could find someone to talk to. If typing into a computer and having it type back to you could be talking. But it was communication, and he didn’t have to leave his flat. Didn’t have to get dressed. Didn’t have to make a time to meet. It was a medium made for lonely, lazy people. As with any other group of people, David made many acquaintances, and a few special friends. He was beginning to feel a closeness to these few friends. As they were spread over the planet, it was a false closeness, but they enjoyed his poetry.
The legal process of his separation was still slowly going nowhere. A letter he received from Charles Stewart had informed him that the court would not issue consent orders as they didn’t believe his wife was properly represented. They’d ordered her to seek legal advice and for him to prepare a new affidavit. This result pissed him off. It was no result. Just a prolonging of the agony. Technical legal nonsense. He wondered why he couldn’t be set free. It was his wife who’d left. Why couldn’t she just go away forever? He had the feeling that he was being slowly ground to dust by the whole process. There was little he could do, other than just wait for the ridiculous process to take its course. There’d been no activity in the sale of the property either. His life was in limbo. He felt jealous of his wife. She had a plan and was acting on it. There was no plan for David. Just a life being lived day by day. No idea of a future.
David didn’t see his letter published. He wasn’t in the habit of buying the newspaper. His internet supplied him with his news so he saw little need. It was only a letter from the editor of the letters section that confirmed it had been published three days after he had posted it. The letter said in part:
‘We have received many phone calls and faxes asking for your contact information. Would it be possible to distribute your mail address? We will be publishing a few letters in response to yours, but will not be able to publish all as so far we have received in excess of three hundred letters.’
David immediately typed a reply giving his email address as well. He was excited as to what responses he may’ve received.
‘Maybe I’ve started something here?’ he thought to himself.
Within two weeks, David had received one hundred and fifty letters and over one hundred emails. Sitting with Tony one evening, they tried to sort them into categories. They categorised them by each letters major complaint.
‘Are these all the replies?’ Tony asked.
‘I don’t think so. I’ve received twenty-one letters and emails today alone. It should slow down though.’
‘They’re bloody depressing reading aren’t they?’
‘Yes. Bloody frightening!’ was David’s response as he read a letter from a seventeen year old lad, who’s father had committed suicide less than a year before. David was choking as he read one line in the letter.
‘I miss my dad. Mum says she does, but I don’t believe her.’
‘What must be going on in this poor lads head every day,’ David said as he passed the letter to Tony.
Tony read the letter. ‘They’re all painful in some way or another,’ Tony said.
‘Have you noticed something about them all? There are very few letters that’re angry or bitter. Confusion and sadness seem to be the two common denominators,’ David remarked.
‘Yeah. I must admit, when I sat down to read these I expected a whole pile of woman hating, bitter men. But, these are just normal blokes. Missing their kids. Missing their wives. Missing life maybe,’ Tony said.
‘Well, I’ll reply to them all. See if I can find out a little more from some. It’ll give me something to do anyway. Maybe I could build a small database and try and use the information to provoke some interest,’ David said as his mind ticked away.
‘Well you nearly live in that computer, so you might as well do something useful,’ Tony joked. ‘You’ll have to show me how to turn it on one day.’
‘Wouldn’t hurt you to learn a little about computers,’ David said.
‘I’ll leave it to you. I haven’t mastered a calculator yet.’
They both continued to read the letters before going to bed that night with a feeling tha
t somehow they’d been lucky. Their reasons for complaint were minor compared to some.
David’s one letter had opened up a steady stream of correspondence. He was receiving an average of twenty letters and emails a day. It had been four weeks since his letter was published. In starting to build his database, he realised that he needed more information. With Tony’s help they designed a small questionnaire and sent it to all the email respondents they’d received. The responses were received back promptly. David decided he would do the same for his mail respondents. Before long he had a great deal of information to work with.
‘There’s a silent pain out there Tony,’ David said as they worked one morning on entering a few of the returned questionnaires. Tony reading the responses as David did the data entry.
‘Bloody depressing if you ask me,’ Tony said. ‘I’m not sure what to think. I thought I’d been through the worst of my shit with my wife. Some of these guys have unresolved problems dating back years and years.’
‘Did you see the letter from that mother? Her husband is paying so much for his two kids from his first marriage, she referred to the children of their marriage as second class children, because they had so little left to support them,’ David said as he looked for the letter.
‘No I didn’t,’ Tony said as David handed it to him. Tony read it carefully. After reading it intently he said, ‘How many families are in this situation I wonder? If this’s happening, it’s not just a bloke issue is it?’
‘It’s bloody frightening! What the hell’ve I opened up?’ David asked.
‘Nothing. I reckon all the pollies know about this shit. So you’ll waste a bit of your time. Get upset. And nothing’ll change. But it’ll keep you occupied for a while,’ Tony said with a smile.
‘Well my friend, I want to do something. This is a bloody disgrace. These letters must be only the tip of an iceberg. I just need to find some way to get some attention,’ David said earnestly.
‘Well, we decided that. Shoot a judge and a politician,’ Tony said with a big grin.
