Wyatt Earp: and the Boomerang Refugium

by Jack Sunn

  Sam then handed over an envelope.

  “What you both did here some months ago started a chain reaction and instilled within all of us, well maybe not some of the STD people that were here, a sense of excitement. Inside the envelope are the locations of scattered small warehouses. Should the need arise, and you would know when, these are for your group’s exclusive use. We have others for our staff and families which we are in the process of working out the logistics. At present, the contents of your warehouses act as a supply buffer for a small number of client’s stores. They are like rolling storage facilities. The floors are sloped, so we unload into them on one side and load out the other. The whole loading process can be managed mechanically in the absence of power. I welcome you to an inspection so you can see for yourself the type of inventory that is there, but also, I would like to show off a little. Lastly, I would like to welcome you to join us in periodic RDC meetings, which is research, development and change, that the staff would like to organise between our two organisations. Gentlemen, the staff knew of your coming in today and would like to show their appreciation and get to know you a little better. I was thinking that we might better be able to have a mixed function in the next two weeks if you were agreeable. By mixed, the staff would like to show you some of the changes they have made and some they are planning. But the staff overwhelmed and overruled me and asked me to invite you to our conference room for a short while after our meeting concludes. Gentlemen, would you please honour us with your presence,” and Redman stood up.

  The conference room was on the third floor and Mr Redman escorted us there immediately. I could hardly believe my eyes. Jan Peters was at the conference room door to show us inside. The room looked immaculate. Seating was limited and the room was near overflowing. All those inside, both men and women, had decided to wear suits. Though the styles varied, the effect was contagious. The men who wore neck ties, wore newly designed Redman ones made in several styles. Individuality was assured, but it was combined with evident pride. The effect was overwhelming. Readable name tags were affixed at chest height on everyone. Applause from all the staff as we entered the room left no doubt about how much they appreciated the changes that had taken place following that intense week of what became known as Jack’s ‘management review.’

  Mr Redman sidled up to Jan Peters for a quiet few words. Redman then took the podium.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. You overwhelm me and make me proud. You reaffirm my faith that business is not just numbers, but people, friends, family and relationships. I … Jan, could you rescue me again please? Thank you all.”

  Jan took the podium.

  “Mr Sam Redman, CEO of the Redman Group, thank-you. To all of you, the people that make the Redman Group survive and prosper, to Jack Sunn and Alex of the TaSMAN Group, we, and I personally, thank you for your efforts that have made us who we are today. And to think it all started with a breach in security. That will certainly not happen again. Mr Jack Sunn, would you be so kind as to offer us a few words?”

  I took a moment to compose myself as I felt … I guess overwhelmed.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. You all truly look tremendous. What I am seeing and have heard from Mr Redman shows me how wonderful life can be when we make the best choice of the options available. My apologies, no mumbo jumbo. The options were not available until you made them so. Please, let me introduce to you my colleague and mentor, Alex. Many years ago I was in a similar position to many of you a few months back. But I was fortunate that I stumbled into the group that I now represent. The TaSMAN group transformed me from being an average but fair police officer here in Brisbane, to what I am today. With lots of help from some extraordinary mentors and teachers, I was effectively pulled apart and re-assembled. To see you gesturing to the group here today reaffirms to me that we are often better or at our best if given a nudge. I am certainly pleased with having been pushed and prodded on so many fronts. Personally, and on behalf of the TaSMAN Group, I look forward to further contact and interaction with many of you. As part of that interaction, I would like to offer the possibility of introducing some of you to our training programs and facilities, possibly in the form of reciprocal secondments. Time will tell. I of course need to speak to my lovely bosses, yes both women. I still call them my bosses even though they are two of my best friends. But after what I have seen today – let’s do it.” With that I took an offered glass, held it up and said, “The Redman Group.”

  Alex and I both left excited. We had done our job well, established an on-going relationship with the Redman Group and its people, and been rewarded with warehouses for our exclusive use. We both beamed and were pleased with ourselves. We decided that as we had a highly successful and emotional meeting with the Redman Group, we would try having a seaside lunch at Byron Bay or Lennox Head, and then head back to Clunes through Lismore.

  Lunch at Lennox Head was welcome, and provided us pleasant down time to unwind and re-ground ourselves. An easterly and steady sea breeze kept the temperature agreeably pleasant but the heat was noticeably building. We drove south to the Ballina bypass and proceeded uphill. Several minutes later and 200m higher in altitude on the Alstonville plateau and it was like we had gone through a climate change as if we had walking out of a cool room into hot desert. The wind had dropped, the temperature had risen and deep and dark storm cells were building near Lismore. A further ten to twelve minutes passed before the first sign of rain hit the windscreen. The weather reports on the radio warned of heavy rain, strong wind and hail. That being so we charged on to find undercover parking as quickly as possible. The late afternoon sky in the space of seven minutes went from bright daylight, to near black, to refreshingly clear. It was just as we turned into Lismore Square shopping centre’s undercover parking that the clouds unzipped and with excited but agitated fury they threw golf ball size hail at the ground. Near 50 mm of hail shredded all but a few leaves, dented car rooves, and had people and vehicles scampering. Another Zen moment in life, but one that is filled with urgent activity. The bag people living out of shopping trollies in the adjacent park just made it to safety in time, but were left wondering where to spend the night. Everything looked like it had been through a shredder, and water was flowing most everywhere. With country roads likely to be blocked after such a deluge, we decided to spend the night in Lismore and checked into the Sisley’s Hotel. The Mandarin Palace Chinese restaurant is an easy walk from there so we rang and booked a table for later that evening.

  Chance favours the prepared, while the unprepared risk failure. The extent of failure naturally varies with the circumstances. We proceeded to the Palace for dinner, and as was our custom we sat close to the wall separating the tables from the entrance. We had food we rarely prepare ourselves which included duck, but we enjoyed it immensely. After the storm, take-away business was brisk, with people queuing out the door. We finished our meal and I got up to pay, turned around in the direction of the front counter and till, and then quickly sat back down. I spoke to Alex.

  “Alex, when I go to scratch my left ear, accidentally bump my right elbow would you please.” I then refilled my tea cup with hot tea, and put on my light weight tea cosy police cap that I always carry with me. Timing was near perfect. At about two steps away from the youth at the head of the queue opposite the till, I touched my left ear just as the youth looked in my direction. Alex responded with a stumble. Hot tea in the face, together with the sight of my police cap nearly made him jump and pee his pants at the same time. The knife he held in his right hand was now clearly visible. With the crush of people in the doorway blocking an easy escape, he chose to lunge at me with the knife. Chance favours the prepared. He wasn’t, I was. Quick as, I crossed arms elbow to elbow whilst turning and parrying his arm to one side with my left arm. Right hand on top I grasped his lower right arm, back fisted his nose with my left hand, and palm heeled his upper chest with my right hand. He hit the wall and slumped to the floor with a bloody and possibly broken nose. I then st
ood on his right hand which amazingly still had the offending knife in it. He was not going anywhere soon. I had the Lismore Police number in my phone and rang.

  “Hello Lismore Police.”

  “Good evening. My name is Jack Sunn and I am at the Mandarin Palace on Keen Street. I have just stopped an idiot in need of arrest for attempted armed assault with a knife. Would you kindly send someone, and also call an ambulance please? I will hold on if you wish.” About a minute and a half passed and two uniformed officers exited their mobile patrol sedan and rushed into the restaurant parting the crowd that surrounded us. They slowed when they saw my cap and police ID which I passed to the first officer. Though I worked for the TaSMAN group I still had a standing arrangement with the police force and therefore a police identity They then cleared the area and moments later the ambulance paramedic arrived. The fellow on the floor was regaining consciousness but was now handcuffed, and still pinned down by my foot. As the police and emergency services were no doubt having a busy night after the severe storm, I said that I would be pleased to drop by the station in the morning and make a full report. They agreed, took some photos, bagged the knife, took my name and contact details, and hauled him out. The crowd cheered which I though was unusual, but I was pleased it all passed quickly. Of course I do not encourage people to try stabbing me. Who would?

  Alex and I then tried to leave but were stopped by the lady owner in charge, who instead of taking payment for our dinner, handed us both empty glasses and a bottle of port and motioned for us to regain our seats and imbibe.

  “Thank you very much Mr Jack and friend. You sit down. Have drink.” Of course we had to abide, and imbibe, and nice port it was too.

  CHAPTER 10

  New Timeline – Next day, after, Just Another Day. For once neighbourhood poultry and frolicking galahs and lorikeets were louder than road noise. Few vehicles were being driven around. No trains, planes or buses were to be heard. Indeed, we found out later that a six-car electric train had just left Coopers Plains railway station travelling south when the power failed. The result was instant closure of the rail-road crossing. And that is where it remained. Abandoned and empty.

  With no electricity, people noise was confined to mostly outdoors activity. For the young it was playtime. For the adults, especially parents, it was a time of enquiry – but really who could you ask who would know what happened and what was likely to unfold?

  By lunchtime the pitch of human interactive noise changed, as gas BBQs and alcohol consumption were combined in a ritual that is known the world over. There being fewer usual forms of entertainment such as televised football, the exception being car CD players, much of the population over-indulged in both food and drink. With the afternoon passing into darkness, uncertainty rose with drinkers wandering in search of certainty, such as open shops and bottle-shops. But everything was shut and night closed in with chilling rain. Again, quiet was returned.

  The following morning saw a continuation of rain and light wind, normal triggers for light depression or despondency if camping in a tent, but now also for all those at home with no power, with fridges and freezers having lost much of their functional capability. All made worse with none of the usual distractions of weather forecasts and radio programs to listen to.

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  Vince and Zelda returned home from Buck and Mary’s BBQ and offered to reciprocate with a BBQ at their place that night.

  Everything seemed alright for a while. Vince put up the tent in the daytime while Zelda sorted food. As it was raining on and off Vince also filled camping drums with water from the house roof’s downpipes. He had no garden tank and he thought why he had not put one in yet. After all Buck and others had. Too late now, have another stubbie and work on the things you can control.

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  Ray and I made discreet forays in the neighbourhood later in the afternoon. Discretion was assured as few fared the cool and wet conditions. Some groups were still partying, almost as if whatever happened will simply go away. Most houses were simply closed and appeared as though the owners were on vacation, as indeed some were. Night was again closing in and it appeared that some homes had some lighting, though dim, probably candle-light.

  How long can this society last before things turn desperate, if they were not already close?

  Back home we reported in, cleaned up and had a lovely fresh meal, with chilled wine, sake and red wine. Overindulgence? No, just time to enjoy the present, leaving time to think and plan. But also to reinforce that the six of us will get through this safely and comfortably. It was also a time to reflect on our past years of training and putting into personal practise what we knew. It was refreshing to be part of a group of six, a combination of family and new family. Life may not be perfect, but we were going to ride this societal hiatus with comfort, and hopefully some style and dignity. Should we have a fancy-dress dinner tomorrow? Let’s answer that with sober reflection in the morning.

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  At Vince and Zelda’s, the evening meal progressed pleasurably without incident. The children had got used to using the toilet with a bucket to flush, and they learned to ration the water. Vince, however, was unsettled. He could see further difficulties arriving all too soon if the power and water was not back on. He remembered all too well what effects the recent floods in central Queensland had brought, where supermarkets were emptied and guards were stationed outside hotels such as in Blackwater where he had been working at the nearby coal mine. Only difference being they had power supply, but food supply was totally cut for several days. The cusp of humanity had been breached and could have turned extremely nasty had the trucks not re-supplied when they did.

  We arose next morning to a day that was overcast but not raining. Cool indifferent weather. For some uplifting, for others it appeared sinister. For us it did not matter greatly.

  Ray rose at dawn and went to the outdoor garden area where he has a cleared and almost circular area of about 6m diameter, decked with a timber layer over the concrete below to allow for drainage in wet weather. This is his main training area. At one end is garden, at the other is a wall of irregularly placed vertically arranged bamboo poles. Julie woke about half an hour after Ray and took a walk into the garden area to better see what may be her home for what she thinks is a few days at most. By then Ray had fully stretched and moved from open hand forms to practicing with a medium length staff. He noticed Julie, and continued his training until she approached. Uncertain of what makes her tick, he stopped and walked over to her. “Good morning Julie. I trust you slept comfortably and are well rested.”

  “Thank-you Ray. Yes, I slept well. May I ask what it is you are doing?”

  Ray, thinking here we go again, and this is why I prefer training in isolation, began with a brief explanation. “Humans are designed to move. Being sedentary is for those who are ill and in need of respite and repair, and for those who are frail and near their end. I started martial arts training years ago and practice forms, or routines, to maintain and explore my potential; it also keeps me superbly healthy. This is my preferred practice area. I like open hand forms, using the staff, and wooden dummy drills. I also teach wheel chair self-defence.”

  Jill followed a few moments later with, “Interesting. Do you have students or …”?

  And before she could finish Ray said, “Mostly I arrange short training sessions to suit the particular needs of clients. I do not have regular classes, but maintain contact with some who want to continue their training. I find very few people have the necessary mindset to persist beyond the rudiments, and soon discontinue training. Persistence in martial arts is often associated with the thought that repetition is dull and boring, rather than one of necessity and a conduit to deeper understanding. What, may I ask has been your exposure to the physical arts?”

  “Dance and netball. Dance has beauty within form, and netball strategy. I have not played netball for years, but still love to dance.” She then did an impromptu sequence of
about ten seconds’ length, what Ray thought was something between hip-hop and modern jazz.

  Ray responded, “Nice. You studied well. I like it that you have what I call full body technique and flow, as well as well-developed rotation around core body elements. Come. Let us return later and perhaps we can be students of each other. Breakfast awaits us.”

  We had a light breakfast of sautéed shitake mushrooms incorporated into our choice of either fried rice or soba noodles. Both or either refreshed us for our in-house chores. The gardens, though well designed to be weed free, always require a discerning eye, almost as though they have a soul that likes to be checked on and soothed by our presence. Being autumn (fall) the garden was in a state of summer decline and winter-spring advancement. Pumpkins and water chestnuts were at an end. Snow peas and broccoli were starting out.