C Doug Wakefield Sydney 2001 Doug Wakefield

8/14/2019 C Doug Wakefield Sydney 2001 Doug Wakefield

1/3

Click!

C Doug Wakefield Sydney 2001

Doug Wakefield PO Box 214 Lane Cove NSW 1595

As an experiment, Alex clicked his ballpoint pen several times and smiled to

himself as Freddys left eyeball moved in rhythm.

Freddy, of course, was well and truly dead. Had died instantly. So fast or

so it seemed to Alex that Freddys nervous system didnt even have time

to close his eyes before it did a Harry Houdini and split the scene for ever.

Thus, two blue orbs glassily gazed from Freddys head.

He had certainly deserved to die. Freddy was not a nice person. In fact he

was often considered a blight on the face of the Earth or at least hisneighbourhood by friend and foe alike. Big, loud and aggressive,

beligerent, self opinionated, and above all: violent. Freddy had strutted his

domain with impunity almost from the day he left school. His school mates

(not so much mates as school-children forced to share common premises)

had already granted Freddy the divine right to whatever he wanted whenever

he wanted and wherever he wanted. They feared the loss of life or limb (or

severe bruising or breaking at best!) should they not deliver whatever it was

Freddy desired and they inevitably owned.

It seemed a natural course in the grand scheme of things that as Freddy

expanded with age and size so would his tastes. From sweets and cakes and

fun rides and power to girls and bikes and sports and power power to bigger

girls and bigger bikes and cars and bigger sports and power power power

Though education played no real part in Freddys view of life, it did have

one slightly unfortunate impact on the lives of those around him: Freddy

gathered a little understanding of the emotion, Respect. He understood that

this should accompany Power Be one of its accoutrements. He had

picked up the notion that Respect came with the commodity, and sincePower was easily recognised as Freddys domain, then all those around him

should display Respect in terms just as easily.

RESPECT! hed shout. Thas wha I wan from youse! RESPECT! And

hed thump and head-butt and kick whatever or whomever he thought should

direct that wonderful emotion toward him. Freddys limited capacity to


2/3

comprehend the finer points of respect never allowed him to understand it

had to be earned and could never be demanded, but a small part of him did

know respect real respect was never given him. Oh, sure everyone

played out the game of respect, but he always knew it was not there and

that irked him. Especially when he recognised the real respect people had for

Alex.

Apart from the fact of Alex being a white, Anglo-Saxon, heterosexual male

that was where any similarity ended. Alex was well-read, caring and

sharing. As you have no doubt surmised, Freddy had none of these qualities

in his resume of life. Alex stood 170cm tall (in his shoes) to Freddys 185

cm (in his bare feet). Alex weighed in at 55 kg (clothed) to Freddys 220 kg

(unclothed). 84cm chest (breath inhaled) to 125cm chest (exhaled) the list

could go on and on (at this point in time, we could also add alive vs. dead,

but well come to that in a minute or so)

Tonight, Freddy had barged into the bar where a group was sharing readings

from poets known and unknown, writers happening and has-been, and

especially word-smiths of all callings wannabe. It was, as a matter of fact,

Alex who held the floor discussing, with a touch of modest pride, a recently

published work.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOUSE ALL UP TO, THEN? BELLOWED

FREDDY bellowed

Freddy in his usual manner. WHOS GONNA BUY ME A

BEER? HURRY IT ALONG, WONTCHA?

Even now, Alex cant recall what had given him the ramrod back and

squared shoulders skinny as they were and courage to keep reading.

HEY! YOU LOT! DINT CHA HEAR ME? ILL HAVE THE FUCKEN

LOT OYOUSE CUNTS IF YOU DON LISSEN UP!

BEER!

NOW!!!

Spittle flew from Freddys mouth (he had a quick temper, ready to flare at a

moments notice but, again, you already knew that).


3/3

Still Alex kept reading, and the most Freddy managed to elicit from the

crowd was the right to occupy the space he inhabited.

Freddy stared at Alex. Alex kept reading.

RIGHTO MATE ILL FUCKEN WELL AVE YOU AND ANY

OTHER CUNTS WOT WANT SOME DISCIPLINE COME ON

THEN FREDDY Freddy frothed. He pushed

forward to the make-shift stage beside the fireplace and took up a fire poker.

Above the heads of the crowd the poker whooshed like a sabre as Freddy

waved it back and forth. With his free hand he reached out to take Alex by

the throat.

******

It was as if, so Alex said, As if you were suddenly confronted by somewild animal. A dangerous animal you well knew existed but did not expect

to meet just now When I looked at Freddy coming at me with that poker

and that red hot rage in his eyes, I think my body took over. I suppose the

only thing Ive ever really clung to is my pen. It was in my hand already

and the upward thrust

Its a stainless steel Papermate ballpoint, you know given me by my

late brother a long time agoGeez... who would have thought? Funny

how it still clicks in and out like it does, isnt it? Look you can see his eye

move in out in out

I guess the pen really is mightier than the sword

FINIS

Documents

C Doug Wakefield Sydney 2001 Doug Wakefield