Saturday, July 19, 2008

VISITING FROM AUSTRALIA ~ BOSTON STREET ~ JOHNNY LODGE ©

PROLOGUE

     It was the end of 1971 and I was 22 years old. Shearing had come to an end for another season. I was still getting tear-stained letters from my mother which were designed to invoke emotional blackmail in me. 
     I had made quite a bit of money shearing so I decided to go back to England for a short holiday. My thinking was I would somehow like to create a relationship with my mother which would be based on two adults communicating with each other rather than her treating me as teenager which she did, in her letters. 

      I had only been back at her house for a couple of days when a few school chums I knew knocked on the door. After a few minutes conversation they invited me to go out drinking with them at a one of the local pubs that evening. 

After they left, my mother said,
"Who was that then?"
"A few old school chums.", I said. "They've invited me to go out for a few beers with them tonight."
"Well, don't think you're coming home here drunk like your father did. I had enough of that, living with him!"

      The day went on with my step-father Jim sitting in his rocker and my mother fussing around the house. My sister, Sandra, and I laughed and joked around with each other. The time came for me to get ready to go out or I'd be late. I threw on some good clothes just in time for the knock on the back door.

"See ya later everybody.", I said in a cheery voice and walked toward the door.
"What time are you coming home tonight Richard?"
"I have no idea mother so don't wait up for."
"I'll have my house key back then."
"What? How will I get in when I come home?"
"We go to bed at 11 O'clock here so if you're not home by then the house will be locked."
"Suit ya self!", I said as I threw the keys on the table.

     Now I was really pissed and angry. Once I got outside with mi couple of school chums, who I hadn't seen for years, since I'd  left to go to Australia.  I put the domestic garbage of mi mothers' houses aside and went off for a good night out.
     It was great being out with my two pals and their wives, although I felt a bit left out because everyone I met was married with children. Not that they put any crap on me, they were generous to the max and asked me all about my life in Australia.
    That evening we drank a lot of beer at the Star Hotel in Upper Sowerby Bridge. I met a bloke, John Lodge, who I'd been somewhat 'pally' with at Ryburn School. He was a very short bloke and like most short men he had a complex about it. A real chip on his shoulder!
     As the night went on he got into some trouble with 3 blokes from another area. So muggins-me, thinking I was still in Australia where mates are real mates, walked over to where they were standing at the bar. The three blokes were threatening to punch his head in, so I said,
"Ya having problems, Johnny?"
"Yeah Dick, these 3 blokes are hassling me."
"Leave him alone fellas. He's not on his own now. There's two of us!"
"Great!", said one bloke, then hauled off and punched me in the face. I shook my head and said, "Good shot mate! Now it's my turn!"
     I cracked him in the head with a big right hand and arse over head he went, but next minute found me on the floor with his two mates on top of me! All I remember was rolling around on the barroom floor, under the round tables. There were punches flying everywhere and most of 'em were aimed at me! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw John Lodge crawling away under the tables, out of harms way.
"Hey! Where are you sneaking off to, Johnny?", I called.

     He never looked back. Once he was away from the fight he kept going. Straight out the door!

     When it was finally over, I was in a right mess. Although the three blokes had various injuries, I'd caught a few punches myself mainly with my face. Steve and Colin helped me clean up a bit but nothing could repair my shirt which was covered in blood, with a big tear down the front.
     I walked home alone that evening vowing to myself not to help anyone else when it wasn't my problem. My bigheartedness and sense of loyalty had yielded me a fat lip, a bloody nose and a bruised cheek.
     'Iris is not going to like this',  I thought, as I walked down the cobblestone street towards her house.
     When I tried the door it was locked and the lights were out. It was about 1:30 and there was a thick layer of frost covering the house walls. I started to feel the cold now as I was only wearing a thin shirt and a cardigan. It was obvious to me that she would blow her brains if I knocked at this time, so I decided to look for some shelter or another way into her house. I tried the lower window but it was firmly locked. The coal cellar shute was wet and black from coal dust, so that was out of the question. The only other option I could see was to sit on the outside toilet until the morning and do the best I could to keep myself from freezing to death.
     By about 4 O'clock my false teeth were chattering so badly they were keeping me awake so I took 'em out and put them in my pocket. It was one of the longest and most uncomfortable nights I think I've ever had. The temperature was below zero but somehow I managed to make it.
     The back door opened at 7 when Jim Bailey came out for the milk. It took me a few minutes to get the stiffness out of my joints.  I walked in the house as if nothing mattered at all.
     When mi mother saw me she hit the roof. I was in no mood for any of her lectures so I walked off upstairs to wash up and change mi clothes. Once I was cleaned up I felt a lot better so I lay down on mi bed for a few minutes and before long the daydream dissolved into darkness.
      I woke up a few hours later, washed mi face, combed mi hair and went downstairs. When I walked into the kitchen, my suitcase was sitting next to the back door.
"Who put mi suitcase there?"
"I did.", said Jim Bailey.
"What for?"
"Because you're leaving!"

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