DIARY OF A COFFIN DODGER CHAPTER J

CHAPTER J

'So, Chris, what's with this Pommy new chum?'

Adrian Bryce asked as he folded his arms across his chest and leant back against a table.

The solid brown wooden table in the centre of the Staff Room.

A room where dust lay thick along the cobwebs, sweeping along the crumbling ceiling cornices high above my head as I took a morning break.

A break during an over-time shift I worked in Ward 29, the Male Security Ward, about a year before the fire.

The fire that a friend, Anne, and I lit when we torched an abandoned, derelict asylum ward. A building in which Charge Nurses ran a brothel.

Brothels became the focus of Chris and Adrian's convo. but only towards the end of their discussion, as Chris stood beside Adrian and leant against the table.

Men with their backs towards me, leaning against the brown wooden table standing between the men and I as Chris lit a cigarette.

A cigarette whose smoke spiralled into the musty air of the room as I reached into the shadowy shelves of a cupboard.

The cupboard underneath a green bench pitted with black, acrid cigarette burns. A bench that ran part way along a side wall of the room.

The bench on which I placed the yellow ceramic mug I took from inside the cupboard as Chris said,

'Who, Charles Williams, the Charge Nurse of the Male Inebriates Ward, Ward 2?'

I spooned coffee granules into the yellow mug from a cracked lidless glass jar as Adrian replied.

'I know there have been a few new chums joining us happy little vegemite’s at the asylum over the last few months.'

'Charles being the one I was asking about.'

The lidless glass jar stood at the black, scungy edge of the green painted bench where it butted against a single row of cracked red tiles.

Close to the tiles, and set into the bench about half-way along its length, soggy cigarette butts adorned a stainless-steel sink.

To one side of the sink, attached to the peeling blue painted wall above the tiles, was a small white hot water urn.

I held the mug and approached the urn, as Chris replied, 'what have you heard?' and blew a smoke ring towards the ceiling.

I saw Chris Carter several times as I performed my duties. Duties as a registered nurse during my three years at the asylum, noticing Chris as he moved around the asylum grounds.

Visiting anyone of the forty or so buildings scattered across the two-hundred acres of that institution. A building visited by Chris for whatever purpose I never knew.

He wore the blue tie of a Charge Nurse but a white shirt, not a grey one, which signalled he undertook some function within the Asylum Administration Office.

As well, he wore shorts, white walk socks, and black leather lace-up shoes.

In years gone by, men wore codpieces to advertise their genitalia. I guess Chris wore his tight fitting dark blue shorts with a similar intention.

Shorts he only discarded in the coldest depths of winter when he wore the standard Male Charge Nurses garb of grey trousers.

Winter had not reached those depths as I stood in front of the urn. I put the mug under the spout and pulled a lever.

A cloud of steam rose from the hot water pouring into the mug as Adrian lit a durry and replied.

'I've heard rumours that Charles likes young men.'

The men puffed on their cigarettes as I released the lever, and the aroma of coffee wafted around me.

I took the mug to the far end of the bench near the tall stainless-steel fridge as Chris answered,

'Yer, I've heard similar,' and ashed his smoke onto the dingy brown cracked lino floor.

'But have you heard that our Pommy friend fled New Zealand before a coroner started asking questions?'

I placed the mug on the bench near the fridge as clouds of cigarette smoke drifted above the heads of the men. Pungent grey clouds that added their ingredients to the grungy off-white ceiling.

I opened the fridge door and gazed at cans of beer lying willy-nilly on the shelves of the fridge, amongst the cartons of milk and other consumables.

More cans of beer were in an open cardboard carton standing on the brown wooden table.

A carton that emptied, like the shelves in the fridge, as the daylight hours ticked by. The hours of their rostered shift, slipping away, as the asylum's alpha males watched a live televised footy match in Ward 29's Staff Recreation Room.

Adrian took a final couple of puffs on his smoke as I reached into the fridge. I moved aside beer cans and retrieved an opened carton of milk.

'Hadn't heard that one,' Adrian said as he stubbed the smoke out on a metal lid lying on the table. He dropped the butt into a rusty jam tin standing beside the carton of grog.

'Well,' Chris said, 'the rumour goes that Charley boy, as Charge Nurse of a Male Ward in an asylum over there, lost it.'

He finished his smoke and stubbed it out on the table before dropping the butt into the jam tin.

I sniffed the carton of milk, and, as it smelt fresh, poured milk into my coffee, and returned the carton to the fridge. I closed the fridge, picked up my mug and looked towards a corner of the room.

A corner offered a more appealing spot in which to drink my coffee than sitting on the grey vinyl, straight-backed chairs scattered around the table.

I headed for a corner on the other side of the room from the men as Chris continued.

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

'Sure do,' Adrian replied.

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

'And the bloke, did it?'

Chris nodded.

I entered a corner with my coffee, as Adrian said.

'And Charles didn't cover it up?'

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

'What a bloody fool.'

Adrian shook his head.

'So, Charley then buggers off across the ditch before a coroner pokes his nose into asylum business and winds up here?'

'Fraid so,' Chris replied as I stood in the corner and gazed through a window at a bleak, grey winter's day as I drank my coffee.

'Any truth to the rumour?'

'Kerry's making phone calls to check it out,' Chris replied.

'And if there is, we'll have young Charles by the short and curlies if he doesn't behave himself with young men.'

Adrian chuckled.

'Smart thinking. New Zealanders might want to know where young Charley's fetched up, eh?'

Chris nodded.

There was silence between them while I watched a brown cockroach move out from behind the fridge and scurry along the blue painted wall towards the bench.

As I shifted my gaze towards an insect wriggling in a web at the corner of the window, Adrian started a conversation by lowering his voice and saying,

'Speaking of friends of Dorothy, you know we have a fairy rostered to this ward, right?'

Chris also lowered his voice as he replied.

'Yes. Young Wayne. I had a look at the asylum ward rosters before I left the Admin. Office this morning. He's working a day shift?'

Adrian nodded as I watched a brown spider move across the web towards the squirming insect.

Chris asked, 'You've got him sorted?'

The insect ceased moving as the spider stopped beside it.

'It's taken a while. But yes. Today is the first opportunity to do so as I and the other two will be in the Recreation Room.'

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

The sudden cessation of the dialogue caught my attention.

I stopped watching the drama in the spider’s web.

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

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

'No sweat,' Chris responded, ‘relax; the main match hasn't begun.’

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

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

'Much appreciated no matter how late,' Chris commented.

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

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

'Wife took the call.'

'She yelled that a real estate bloke wanted to talk to me. There's a prompt payment with the real estate jobs, so I spoke to the bloke.'

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

'The man mentioned that, though he had made several phone calls, he had found it difficult to find a plumber willing to work on the weekend.'

Chris remarked, 'What a stupid comment.'

Ray chuckled.

'That's right! Laid himself wide open. I heard my internal cash register ringing multiple times as he said it. So, I jumped at the chance.'

Ray pulled out a cigarette pack from a trouser pocket and offered it around.

After Chris and Adrian had taken a smoke, and the three men had lit their ciggies, Ray continued.

'Anyway, a tenant's bathroom pipe had burst. So, wearing a boiler suit over my uniform, I went to the tenant's flat.'

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

The other men chuckled.

'Anyway, I have her address. So, ah, I might need to check her pipes after the football game.'

'It's not her fuckin' pipes you're interested in, you randy ol' goat,' Adrian chortled amidst guffaws from Chris.

'Oy! Who you calling, old?' Ray said, 'it's a young man's job this plumbing game, requires lots of....'

'Alright! Alright!' Chris chimed in. 'All Adrian is saying, right, is if you need a young apprentice, let him know. You also like honey, don't ya, Adrian, especially when it's not in a jar?'

When the laughter stopped, Ray said. 'Good one, Chris. I'll keep it in mind.'

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

'I'm looking forward to the game. Should be a good one. Great teams playing this round.'

'That's for bloody sure,' Adrian said as Chris nodded.

They puffed on their smokes as Ray put his cigarette on the edge of the table.

He went to the fridge, opened the door, and started unpacking his carton of grog.

While he loaded the cans into the fridge, he asked,

'Who’s the broad?'

He jerked his head in my direction.

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

'The broad?'

Adrian replied without turning around.

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

'She's over in the corner,' Ray said as he walked towards Chris and Adrian.

'A broad who knows her place and when to keep quiet,' Adrian said as Chris chuckled. 'That's a plus.'

'Oh! Yer! Right! She's a ring-in on an over-time,' Adrian continued.

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

His voice had an edge to it as he concluded.

Ray puffed on his smoke as he joined Chris and Adrian.

'Don't think I've met that young bloke. Is he new?' Ray asked.

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

Adrian replied as he looked at Chris, who nodded.

Ray finished his cigarette, extinguishing it on the lid.

As he dropped the butt into the jam tin, he said,

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

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

'No sign of Bill?'

'Weekend detention at Long Bay,' Chris replied.

'I thought detention had finished?' Ray asked.

'Another stint,' Chris said. 'Same reason as the other times. Friday night pub brawl. Up before the magistrate on Monday morning.'

'How come he hasn't received a longer sentence?' Ray asked.

'From what I hear,' Adrian joined the conversation, 'Bill's solicitor spins a line about Bill providing a vital community service looking after some of society's most unfortunate creatures. Therefore, Bill can't spend too much time away...'

'Enough,' Chris started laughing.

'It's a great yarn. Keep it to tell the blokes in the Recreation Room during the half-time break.'

Ray chuckled and said, 'anyway, I'll see you down there,' and strode out of the room.

Chris stubbed out his smoke and dropped the butt into the tin as Ray's footsteps disappeared down the corridor towards the Staff Recreation Room.

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

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

Adrian replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He added, 'thankfully, the do-gooders haven't interfered.... yet…'

'You think you think you could, ah, give us a hand to keep it that way?'

Love too,' Adrian said. 'Do-gooders only complicate matters.'

'Thanks,' Chris replied. 'I knew I could count on you.'

'Anyway, it's time for footy. Let's chat after the game.'

Chris moved away from the table towards the fridge and asked, 'care for a cold one?'

'Sounds good,' Adrian said.

Chris went to the fridge and took out two cans of beer.

He gave Adrian one as they left the room.

As I stood in the corner, I did not know whether to scream or spew my guts up. Or even smash my cup against a wall as I struggled to get my mind around what I had just heard.

The chicanery that blazed through that convo. felt so vile that I wished I had never glimpsed the diabolical darkness that pulsated through it.

After a couple of minutes, I muttered, 'get a grip on yourself, young lady.'

'Fuck them and fuck this for a joke!'

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

His attitude towards Wayne and me was disgusting. And leaving me and Wayne to look after the male inmates while he and his mates skived off to watch a footy match pissed me off no end.

Now feeling energised, it was time for action.

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

'Time to get writing,' I muttered.

However, I avoided the brown table and its grey vinyl chairs as a place to sit. 

A table littered with girlie magazines.

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

Therefore, I put the mug in the sink and went to the Charge Nurse, Adrian's office.

An office with an oppressive atmosphere of stale cigarette smoke, laced with whiffs of testosterone and sweat.

I entered the office and scanned the room.

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

A black vinyl office chair pushed back against a peeling white window ledge, a short distance from the desk. The ledge furrowed with pungent black cigarette burns.

A lidless, battered metal garbage bin stood to one side of the desk.

A short distance away from the desk, on the other side, two grey rusty metal filing cabinets, with their drawers sagging open, leaned against a wall.

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

I curled my lip at the foul smell as I grabbed the bin's cold metal handle and dragged the bin to a far corner of the room.

After I looked again at Adrian's chair, I decided not to sit in it. Not only was it associated with Adrian, but it also looked uncomfortable.

I therefore picked up a straight-backed orange vinyl chair from the far side of the room and placed it where the bin had once stood.

After sitting down, I took out a notebook and pen from my uniform pocket.

I placed my notebook on the desk and began writing.

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

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

Another was to work with Wayne to 'keep the natives quiet' in the locked Day Room while Adrian, Ken, and Clive, the three registered male nurses working the day shift, joined their compatriots in the Staff Recreation Room for the footy match.

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

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

However, at the end of the round, one inmate's name had not been checked off.

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

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

I sat back from the scungy brown desk as I stopped writing.

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

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

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

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

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

I walked out of the office and headed towards the Staff Room.

As I approached the Staff Room, I stopped and spun around.

I yelled, 'Holy Shit!' as I raced towards the Day Room, thoughts of a cuppa forgotten.

When I reached the Day Room, I unlocked the door and flung it open.

I stared at Wayne standing in the centre of the room with his back towards me.

My eyes opened wide in horror as I saw Garth, with clenched fists, pacing closer and closer to Wayne.

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

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

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

Garth screamed in rage as he picked up a chair.

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

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

I felt the door vibrate as I locked it.

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

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

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

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

He punched the door's small upper window.

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

Wayne lifted his head and nodded.

'You OK to walk?' I asked.

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

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

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

We made slow, steady progress to the office.

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

I dragged a lime green vinyl chair across the threadbare beige carpet, away from where the chair rested against a light blue painted wall.

After I placed the chair at the front of the desk, I sat on it and caught my breath.

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

Wayne nodded.

'Milk and sugar?

'Yes, please. Milk and two.'

I stood up and went to the Staff Room.

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

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

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

'Well! I make no secret of that.' Wayne cut in. 'Sorry for interrupting. But I am proud of who I am.'

'And it's great you are,' I replied.

'Anyway. You were saying?' Wayne said.

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

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

Wayne took a deep breath.

'I am so glad you did.'

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

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

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

'It makes sense what you say.'

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

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

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

The phone rang again.

And again, we let it ring out.

'But what made you go to the Day Room?'

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

With a catch in my voice, I said, 'Ken omitted to give Garth his morning medication. I suspect Ken did that following an order from Adrian.'

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

Tears welled in Wayne's eyes.

He whispered.

'That is so evil.'

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

'I'd say so,' I replied.

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

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

He broke the silence by saying,

'You figured it out...?'

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

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

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

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

'Now, Garth missed taking his dose of medication this morning. So, I asked Ken about it. Ken replied he gave them to Garth earlier because Garth had been 'toey.' That didn't jell.'

'How come?'

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wayne shook his head.

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

Wayne shrugged his shoulders.

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

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

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

He leaned back in his chair.

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

He looked at me and said, 'So, what do we do now?'

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

'What go?'

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

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

'I'd guarantee it.'

'Because this is not the first time he's behaved in this disgusting way?'

I replied.

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

Wayne reached across the desk to a box of tissues.

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

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

He scrunched the tissue in his hand and said,

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

I replied.

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

Wayne sighed and said, 'Bloody hell! Poor bastards! But you have a point.'

'So, you will talk to Adrian by yourself?'

I nodded.

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

Wayne lowered his voice.

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

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

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

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

I took a deep breath.

'I will ...' Wayne said.

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

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

'Give us a ring, sometime.'

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

'I'll do that,' I replied.

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

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

Wayne sighed and shook his head.

I smiled and said,

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

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

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

'Thank you so much for all that you have done,' Wayne said as he stood up.

'Fingers crossed that you'll be OK when you talk to Adrian.'

'Thank you.' I replied.

'Bye for now,' Wayne said as he turned, walked out of the office and, in asylum parlance, 'went to Victoria.'

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

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

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

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