Wednesday 25 January 2012

CAIRNS, A CITY AT WAR WITH ITSELF, PART 7

"It's a war zone, a bloodied, frenzied war zone! I've never seen anything like it in Cairns!" shrieked the Cairns radio station shock jock in his talk-back show.

"I'm looking at images sent to me on my mobile phone by someone who is down there, right now, at the front of the Cairns Regional Council offices, and I tell you, there are people with blood pouring down their faces everywhere. I tell you, I have never never never seen anything like this in Cairns before!" The shock jocks voice took on a shrill tone, fired by unchecked excitement. "This is all Councillor Mingin's work!!"

Driving down Sheridan Street, Councillor Brad Buttonworth, the Division 10 representative, listened to the talk back program with a mixture of disbelief and mounting horror. Somehow he doubted Mingin was at fault, although he knew the big fellow was powerfully built and still worked out regularly with weights. Suddenly his mobile phone buzzed. A text message had been sent.
Intuiting it could be urgent, he pulled his car over to a park alongside the Cairns State High School and read the message. "CEO ADVISES ALL COUNCIL MEETINGS CANCELLED TODAY. DO NOT ATTEND COUNCIL OFFICES. REPEAT DO NOT ATTEND COUNCIL OFFICES." For a few seconds, Buttonworth hesitated. Pulling out of the parking zone, he continued down Sheridan Street. He would park his vehicle somewhere in the city, he thought, and walk down to the Council Offices. He had to see what the hell was really going on.
As he continued, the radio shock jock was saying, "The people down there are saying that it was a peaceful demonstration, and suddenly this thing, this aboriginal Councillor, Mingin, just started laying into people, breaking noses, bustng lips. There is someone with broken ribs, another with head injuries.....".

................................................

Constable Ryan Lake was driving Councillor Skye Lovelady down Spence Street towards the Council Offices, and both were listening to the Cairns radio station's talk back program. "I don't believe Mervyn would throw the first punches," Skye said to Ryan. "This can't be true, it can't be!"
Ryan only shook his head and declined to comment. He had been a copper for only a few years, enough time not to trust third party analysis. He slowed his car and pulled up behind another vehicle. A long line of vehicles were stationary down Spence Street. Up ahead, Ryan could see the familiar strobes of flashing blue lights. The police were at the Cairns Regional Council offices, and, judging by the sheer amount of blue lights, they had arrived in force.
"We're going home," he announced, taking in the situation with a hard glance. "It isn't safe for you here!"
"But I'm a Councillor!" Skye protested. "We have a meeting today....."
"I don't care if you're the Queen of fucken Sheba," Ryan retorted angrily. "You are not going in there or anywhere near the place! There's a fucken riot going on!"
Skye looked at Ryan with alarm. Her first instincts were to argue with him, to retort angrily at his manner, yet she knew. She knew. She knew the people of Cairns had been so fired up over the Mt Whitfield issue that it had come to violence. Part of her mind tried arguing that it was a nightmare, that none of this, her beloved cat being killed, someone trying to drive her off the road, someone breaking into her unit, and now this - it was all so surreal. It just couldn't be happening here in Cairns. Cairns! But it was. It was. In God's name it was!! Dully she leaned forward so that Ryan could not see the tears falling. She did not feel Ryan putting his arm across the seats and gently rubbing her back.

...............................................

Shakily, Councillor Dom Piper raised his head, disguised with an old hat of his wife's pulled firmly down on the crown of his head, and peered out the window of his range rover. He was at the front of the Council public car parking zone, and immediately adjacent to the riot. When he saw the fighting, struggling, shouting crowd, he let out an involuntary moan of terror.

There was a break in a crowd of fighting men, and he spotted with disbelief, Enzo Bomboniere, the Division 3 Councillor, being assaulted by several men. The slightly built Italian Australian was no match for the three enraged men, and even from where he sat cowering his his car, Piper could see the blood rushing from Bomboniere's mouth and nose. He was staggering under the blows and buckling, but still the men kept at him.

Piper moaned again and felt his bottom lip trembling like blubber. Hastily he ducked his head down, but in the process he noticed something in the seat behind him. Margie's golf clubs!
Without thinking, he leaned back and pulled one club out. The thought of it being a weapon filled him with courage. He grasped it firmly. As he felt the steel handle, he could feel himself calming down. He took some deep breaths and whispered to himself. "I'm a man, not a mouse. If I don't do something to help Enzo, they will kill him. I'm a man not a mouse!"

His voice grew louder. Stronger. "I'm a man, not a mouse. I'm a man, not a mouse." It was calming. He kept on saying it. So saying, he opened the car door and holding the golf club before him, ran to help Councillor Bomboniere who was lying on the ground being kicked by the three men.

Holding the golf club aloft, he swung as hard as he could at the three men, collecting one instantly in the chest. The man staggered back, reeled and fell on his knees. Piper swung again collecting another man in the face causing a plume of dark red blood to gush forth. The last man who was standing rock still, frozen with indecision, he rammed up his crotch with the golf club. The man screamed and bent over, also falling to his knees.

Standing over and straddling the prone body of Councillor Bomboniere, Piper held the golf club threateningly in front of him. Men were pressing around, but staying at a distance. He tried shouting above the noise. "I'll hit anyone who comes near!!!"

He lunged the golf club at one man who stepped a bit too close, but then there was a strange red gas everywhere. He could see it spreading amongst the crowd and suddenly he could hear the sounds of coughing, of throats gagging. He felt his own eyes sting, then his throat constrict. His chest felt tight. He couldn't breathe! He opened his eyes briefly, then had to shut them tight again! The red gas was redder, thicker. He could scarcely breathe! Tears started streaming from his eyes, even though he had them shut. He could hear gutteral choking sounds all around him and when he opened his eyes as wide as he could, he could see people falling to their knees trying to breathe. Gradually, he sank to his knees, lying as close as he could to help protect Enzo who was also making strangulated choking noises. He grabbed Enzo's hand and tried to say, "It's alright mate," but no sound came out. His throat and larynx felt paralysed. He concentrated on his breathing, trying to get as much air as he could into his lungs.

....................................................

Councillor Brad Buttonworth had parked his car at a local shopping centre and had walked briskly to where the Police had set up a roadblock in Spence Street. "Stay away Sir!" cautioned a young police officer. "We are not letting anyone through!"

Buttnworth held up his identification card. "I'm a Cairns Regional Councillor," he announced, "and we have a meeting today. I am expected to be there."

The young police officer looked momentarily confused and he hesitated. "I'll just check with my superior," he said. "Hang on a tic will you?"

As he turned away, Brad walked past, ducking down and crawling on hands and knees past the police vehicles. Police called out him but he ran, ducking weaving past police and spectators to see the riot outside the Council offices. He could see a large cloud of reddish gas amongst the rioters, could hear them making choking sounds, could see people with blood pouring from them.
Sickened, he stood and gaped. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think Cairns would see this. It looked like a battle zone! A man and a woman were approaching him. He looked at them dazedly, wanting them to say something, say that it wasn't real. That it was a nightmare!
"He's one of them fucken greenie fucken bastards whose taking the jobs from us!" said the woman pointing a finger at him.
"Is he then?" roared the man rushing at him with his arm fisted. Buttonworth stood, frozen with shock. Suddenly, materialising out of nowhere, a stout, freckle faced police woman appeared in front of Buttonwroth, putting herfelf directly between the charging man and the Councillor. "Stop, or I will taser!" she screamed. The man kept on charging, and there was a sudden flash as Constable Ruby Frome fired 50,000 volts into the mans legs. He collapsed instantly onto the ground. The woman screamed. "You fucken dirty fucken cop bitch!" she shrieked at Constable Frome. "Get back! Get back!" screamed the police officer at the woman. Buttonworth watched as almosty in slow motion the woman kept on coming, screaming obscenities at the police woman. There was another flash and the woman too, fell to her knees. Buttonworth could never recall what happened next because he fainted.

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At a unit in Edmonton, Councillor Doug Dunnysmore lay back contentedly on a couch, languidly puffing away on a cone. He was listening to the radio shock jock's account of the riot and trying to imagine the sheer violence and horror of the riot, an event unprecedented in the history of Cairns. "Fucken hell mate," said his mate Pedro, lounging on a chair and smoking a cone himself, "You did the right thing by pissing off quick smart hey!"

"Yeah," said Dunnysmore slowly. "Not my scene man, know what I mean?".
"Yeah man," replied Pedro blowing out a circle of smoke.

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From the first floor of the Cairns Regional Council office building, a man and a woman were standing close together filming the riot. No-one in the Council knew who they were, apart from the Mayor, Colonel Cush. Most assumed they were journalists from a local television station.
They had arrived the evening before, specifically to advise the Mayor of Cairns Regional Council not to proceed with any business dealings with the Chinese Shanghai Hangyang Corporation.
They were ASIO agents, and neither had ever witnessed such a violent confrontation in Australia, ever. Determinedly they kept on filming, watching as ambulances arrived. They zeroed in on two men in particular. One man held a bloodied golf club firmly wrenched in one hand and despite the efforts of the ambulance medics, would not let go of it. The other man who was slightly built and who had a distinctive Southern European appearance, appeared to have broken limbs and looked in a bad way. The couple filmed as many faces amongst the crowd as they could, noting how the capsicum spray had turned everybody's face a bright red as blood rushed back to it. The crowd was now silent with the effects of the capcicum spray.

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Colonel Cush, the Mayor of Cairns Regional Council, was in his office with his Deputy Mayor, Councillor Bob Horseman. Both were drinking scotch and water heavily.
"Fucken idiots," growled Cush.
"Yeah," mumbled Horsey.
"At least they got that fucken Eyetie bastard, Bomboniere," Cush said undisguised relish.
"Hope they killed that cunt of a Piper too."

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To be continued..................

Monday 2 January 2012

CAIRNS, A CITY AT WAR WITH ITSELF, PART 6

The crowd writhed and growled. Like a living creature. It was waiting. Waiting.

It was a blue sky day in Cairns. December, traditionally the start of the tropical wet season when the heavens burst with a roar sending torrential hot downpours on the city, had been very hot and humid. The crowd of over 1000 men and a few women sweltered outside the Cairns Regional Council offices in Spence Street as the humidity reached 90% by ten o'clock.

Placards dotted the writhing crowd. "KICK THE GREENS OUT!" "WE DON'T WANT GREENIES" "WE WANT CUSH" and "BURN THE WITCH!"

The protestors were tense, speaking in low voices, and watchful, their eyes looking past one another as they spoke.

A large, muscular black man, who bore a striking likeness to football legend Mel Meninga, walked resolutely into the crowd, which at first became silent, parting to let the giant through. Then something happened, no-one knew what, and the crowd erupted, surging forward, its voice rising to an angry shriek. Councillor Mervyn Mingin felt the first few fists with a sense of shock and disbelief. Even as a painful blow fell against his back making him gasp with pain, he could not believe this was happening to him. Here in Cairns. Here in front of the Cairns Regional Council building. Dazed from another savage blow to his shoulders, he stared in shocked horror as a man clothed in the workman's dark blue clothing thrust an angry red face near him and snarled, "We don't want niggers in the Council!" Then the taunts came. "Boong!" yelled another man nearby. "Coon!" shouted another voice thick with menace. A fist came from nowhere and Mingin felt the pain, the spongy crunch and felt the sensation of warm sticky fluid running down his face. There was a series of painful blows to his back and shoulders as the crowd pressed even closer around him. "Get the nigger!" he heard from somewhere behind him.

Dazed, shocked, in pain and trying to shake off the sense of unreality, Mingin went on to autopilot. He had an instant recall to when he played with the Broncos and how the adrenalin was pumped and pumping, surging and soaring, loud in his ears, during the matches. Only this wasn't a game, something said to him. Something struggled through his uncomprehending consciousness that he was fighting f0r his life. The adrenaline coursed through his powerful body. Fight for your life! Fight! Fight! Fight!

With a roar he didn't recognise as his own, he kicked out with a powerful lunge of his right leg, catching the man pressed in front of him and delivering him a painful blow to his crotch. Simultaneously he threw a punch in the face of the man to his left, then to the man on his right. He felt his massive fists connect with spongey bone and tissue and vaguely saw the aerial sprays of blood. There were many of them, at first, in his path, as he fought his way, grunting, and roaring, to the doors of the Council offices. He thought he broke someone's ribs with a few powerful blows to their stomach with his powerful legs, but he couldn't be sure as he bodily picked another man up and threw him head first back into the crowd. He could see the Customer Service Counter and the scared looking security guard standing behind the closed door. He roared for the guard to open the door and let him in, but the guard was frozen with fear. Then another man threw a fist in his face and he felt it land in his eye. Enraged, he grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and drove his other fist in wild fury into his face, smashing the bones in his nose amidst a huge spray of heavy smelling blood.
Then he picked the groaning man up and threw him bodily back into the crowd. He yelled again for the Council Security Guard to open the door and let him in, but the Security Guard stood there mute, his eyes like saucers.

Then Mingin saw KelliAnne, the Supervisor of the Customer Service Section of the Cairns Regional Council run past the Security Guard and open a single door to the right. It was the staff door that the Customer Service Officers used to arrive and leave. She motioned to Mingin to come to the door. Mingin ran, aware that a crowd of men were still around him. He made it through the door along with two other men, as KelliAnne, then slammed the door closed.

"Mervyn!" shrieked KelliAnne, as she saw one of the men lunge at Mingin with a stick.

Mingin swung around and ducked and planted his huge fist in the mans face. He fell to the floor with a loud crack. The other man ducked nervously away. "Don't hurt me man!" he croaked, as Mingin opened the glass door and threw him out to the shrieking crowd.

KelliAnne had sunk to her knees and was retching violently. The Security Guard was beside her, his entire body shaking, his eyes shocked,

Mingin fought to get his breath back, and wiped blood on his sleeve. Turning around, he spotted some of the Council staff staring wide eyed and white faced at him. "Phone the Police immediately!" he yelled. "And notify all the other Councillors." He coughed and fought for his breath again. "Notify Coucillors Lovelady, Piper, Bonbomiere, Buttonworth and Dunnysmore on their mobile phones, NOT TO COME INTO THE COUNCIL today!" Some of the staff made moves to follow his directives. He turned back to the Supervisor, KelliAnne, who was still on her hands and knees moaning above a puddle of vomit. Without thinking he lifted her up and carried her into the staff room. She was hysterical. "Arrrrng, arrrrng, yerroooooo," she babbled, trying to talk, but her brain couldn't carry the message of speech. As he put her down on a chair, she looked at him and focussed. "I HAVE TO SAVE MERVYN!" she screamed, as tears ran down her face. "I HAVE TO SAVE HIM BECAUSE I LOVE HIM, I LOVE HIM."

Mingin was shaken by KelliAnne's hysterical outburst and looked curiously at the Supervisor whom he had barely ever noticed in the two years he had been a Councillor. She was a white girl, and Mingin had only ever dated aboriginal women. As he called for one of the staff to come and look after her, he wondered briefly at human attraction.

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Councillor Doug Dunnysmore was on his way into the Council in a Black and White taxi. On account Pedro had helped himself to the keys of his car and had disappeared with it, without telling Doug when he would be back. Dunnysmore was furious as he phoned for a Black and White cab to come urgently as he had a Council meeting to attend.

As the taxi made its way from Bentley Park, Dunnysmore listened to the local talk back radio show hosted by the local shock jock. "There's over a thousand people down there outside the Council offices," the shock jock was saying. Dunnysmore turned the radio up loud and the cab driver protested.

Dunnysmore looked across at the taxi driver, a young man of Pakistani or Indian origin.

"Listen mate," Dunnysmore snapped, "I am a Councillor and there is something happening outside the Council offices. I need to know this!"

Someone was talking to the shock jock amidst a huge noise. Dunnysmore leaned forward and strained to hear the radio station. "....Mingin....injured men.....threw punches....". He could only hear a few disjoined words.

"Mervyn Mingin threw punches and seriously injured some of the protestors, is this what you are saying?" said the radio shock jock in excited tones.

There was answering crackling and heavy static and Dunnysmore leaned even closer to the car radio.

"....broken ribs...busted noses....carnage..." was all he could hear.

"So Councillor Mingin, the aboriginal Councillor, has launched a savage attack on the demonstrators, is that what you are saying," exclaimed the shock jock loudly. "He has broken several noses and someone's ribs."

This was greeted with more static and crackling and Dunnysmore leaned back and thought rapidly. From what he knew of Mingin, he was a gentle giant, not the sort who would launch an attack on someone first. Besides the shock jock had said there were over 1,000 protestors outside the Council offices and Mingin was just one man. Dunnysmore didn't require any more mental exertion. He turned to the taxi driver. "Look man, turn around at the next corner and drive me straight home. I won't be going there today."

The taxi driver nodded. "I can do that for you sir, no problems."

Dunnysmore leaned gratefully back wondering if perhaps he should get the taxi driver to take him to Pedro's house. "No, hold on," he said. "Take me out to Edmonton instead, would you?"

Hiding out at Pedro's house in Edmonton was probably the best, he thought. Besides Pedro should have a few cones of ganga for him and by Christ he needed it after all of this!

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In the Council car park, Councillor Dom Piper lay curled up on the floor of his Range Rover.
He couldn't stop himself shaking. He had seen what had happened to Mervyn Mingin. He had been about to get out of his own car when he witnessed that first punch thrown at Mingin, then someone sneaking up behind him and hitting him with a cricket bat. He had then retreated into the car, locked all the windows and peered out from time to time, disguised as best he could with Margie's large straw hat, she always left in the car. He had tried with shaking trembling fingers to call the Police on his mobile phone, but he realised with dread, he had forgotten to charge his phone and it was as dead as.

He had cried as he lay curled up and aching with cramp on the floor. He had once confessed to Margie, his wife, that he had no courage. "I've got no guts Margie," he said once. But Margie wasn't worried. "If I wanted to marry someone like Chucky Norris, I would have done so," she replied. "Instead, I wanted a soft and gentle man, and lucky girl that I am, that's what I got. I love you Dom!" Dom had felt a million dollars when she said that. Today curled up like a crying child, he felt disgusted with himself and all the negative emotions of himself, the loathing, the lack of self confidence. the poor self-esteem came roaring back. He was the scared, bullied boy in the school yard again, crying, always crying.


To be continued..............................