The '87 cricket world cup was in full flight with Australia and England making the final. The cook being a pom and thinking he was an astute judge, decided to run a book taking all bets on who ever wanted to back the Aussies at even money.
He was about forty years of age, had his wife and his son with him. His wife was a tall thin
woman - I'd say 33, maybe 34 - wore glasses, teased curly hair, a horrible mousy colour.
They both worked together running the food mess. Working breakfast lunch and dinner did
not give them much time for their young son, or for that matter trying to look after him. They
had a child's car seat bolted to the back of their ute and would seat belt him in, put an
umbrella above him, shove his cap on and chuck him a few toys to play which always seemed
to be at the other end of the ute. He'd be strapped in there all day.
Some days I'd walk past the back of the food mess and he'd be screaming for his mum,
hysterical, trying to release himself from the seat belt. Other days he'd be out to it in a deep
sleep. every day that kid would be strapped to that seat on the back of the ute.
The cook himself very rarely spoke. His wife did most of the serving so he was always at the
back of the kitchen. That was until he started taking bets on the world cup.
Well I know he was more than surprised at the response he got from the offerings on the food
mess board. The majority of the camp were mad gamblers.
| He never recovered from that first six pack. Drank himself stupid for the next four days. |
|---|
Well, you had to be, going under ground with this toy show they called a mine. The story of
John Kay, a gunn miner from Kal., says it all. He lasted an hour and a half underground,
come back up to surface and quit. So all of us that were still there were either plain fucking
stupid or mad gamblers. Not risking money but using our lives as a wager "Life is a gamble".
I think he closed the book at three thousand dollars. It was a big night at the wet mess. Anton
was dirty that he has missed out on getting a bet on. Australia went on to win the world cup
which sent the wet mess and it's inhabitants out of control with joy and jubilation - except for
one - the old cook. I felt for him 'cause he wasn't on good money, compared to us, anyway.
So three grand must have been a lot for him to lose.
The next day Ferg and I were sitting in the wet mess having a few beers that were left over from the night before - the bar didn't open until 5pm.
The cook came down and asked if we had any scotch or spirits he could grab until he went to
town.
"No, we've only got beer mate, so grab a six pack."
We'd both won money from him so it was the least we could do.
He took six cans out of the ice machine, cracked one, took a big swig and said "I'll fix ya up
for them, thanks boys" and walked off.
He never recovered from that first six pack. Drank himself stupid for the next four days.
On the third day he was at the wet mess blind and refused to serve up dinner. His poor wife
left to run the kitchen by herself, finally refused to serve up dinner if he wasn't there.
Eventually one of the miners went to the wet mess grabbed him by the throat and told him to
get his fucken arse up to the food mess and help his wife, which he did, like a dog, cowering
with his tail between his legs.
It was that night when all hell broke loose. Somehow the cook managed to get his hands on a
gun during his drinking session. There was going to be no stopping him. He was after the
guy who'd dragged him back to work and he also had a fair idea where he would be because
he was in control of the accommodation as well.
This just happened to be four doors down from me. I'd finished night shift the night before so
it was fortunate for me that I was still awake when the drunken cook came stumbling down to
blow away the big fucker who had belittled him.
He let the first shot go in the air then mumbling something sounded like "Your a fucking dead
man Demious"
An eerie silence had surrounded our block of dongas like a thick fog coming off the ocean.
I found myself in the wardrobe praying that he had more than a fair idea which room he was
looking for. The next shot was too fucken close for comfort. I heard bullets spraying and
penetrating the walls of the donga, That shot broke the silence. There was screams bellowing
from Demious' donga - screams that are only heard in the most horrifying late night flicks.
I heard him load up again. From the direction his voice was coming I gathered he'd passed
my door and wad standing at Demious' door. He let another shot go which silenced the
screaming of Demious.
By the sound of the thus it had also blown off the fucken door! My first thoughts were that
Demious was dead!!
The four of us had worked up enough courage to get out of our wardrobes and tackled him.
Johno grabbed for the gun while Frank and I forced him to the ground. The saliva and froth
quickly appeared around his mouth as he struggled to break free. Then Macka came running
through and let fly with a boot to the head with the swiftness and force of a fifty yard place
kick.
This, not surprisingly, slowed him up but then a sickly wave of fear came across me as in
some amazing way I felt his strength begin to grow. The four of us were struggling to keep
him down now. Tomic had just poked his head out of his donga, "grab a rope Tomic."
We tied him to the back of the four wheel drive, blood streaming down his forehead and nose,
mixing in with the froth bubbling from his mouth.
A couple of the boys giving him a few tension relievers before tying him to the back of the four
wheel drive.
His wife had arrived by this time, showing no emotion what so ever. Ken was also there and
had rang the police in Nullingine. They'd arranged for a plane to be at the airport in the
morning to fly him to Headland.
We left him tied to the four wheel drive all night. It was about 2am when he fired up,
screaming and carrying on. I heard a door open and another voice say "now fucken shut up!"
and then a thud. There was silence.
I woke the next morning and found the four wheel drive had gone. Later I was told they had to
sedate him before they could put him on the plane.