THE SKY PILOT FROM BENTLEY PARK - PART 5

SATURDAY 17TH AUGUST 2013 - BY-ELECTION FOR DIVISION 2
CAIRNS REGIONAl COUNCIL

Doug Dunnysmore sipped his slippery elm bark tree tea (which was really not slippery elm
bark, but more of a mixture of ground up plain old black tea leaves mixed with powdered milk plus the odd grain or two of mouse droppings) with deep satisfaction.

In front of him lined up like a row of bullets were more of his defence forces against the world of bugs, viruses, bacteria and invisible deadly agents which, he, Doug Dunnysmore knew could strike a person down at any time. Taking a large mouthful of tea, he started the ritual of swallowing his
capsules of iodine, rose hips, lysine, proline, cod liver oil, potassium, garlic, magnesium, sulfur,
argon, beryllium ,silver, zinc, palladium, manganese and tungsten. Last but not least he swallowed two Vitamin C's and two immune boosting capsules.

This was a ritual which he undertook faithfully three times a day, as well as drinking iodine flavoured water and painting most of his body with iodine. Iodine was to help him fight the nuclear fall-out from Japan's stricken nuclear power stations which he calculated was out there in the atmosphere everywhere. Oh people had laughed at him and called him a stupid fuck, but he had only shrugged and thought youse will all be sorry one day!

The day of the election showed promise of being a beautiful, bright, sunny, but not too warm a day in the tropical city of Cairns. Dunnysmore stared out of his kitchen window with mounting excitement as he ate his breakfast of a handful of goji berries.

After today, he would be the new Councillor for Division Two on he Cairns Regional Council. To be sure he didn't have any relevant experience, having worked as a storeman for a large health food chain for some years, and he didn't have a large campaign committee or funds, but deep down he just knew he was the one people would vote for. Mentally he went over his organisation for the day. There were three polling places, St Theresa's School at Edmonton, the State School at Hambledon, and the State School at Bentley Park. He only had three polling workers, his brother Teddy, Teddy's mate Pedro and himself. They would all have to man one polling station each all day until the polls closed at 6pm.

As he finished his gojis, he felt a surge of fresh excitement course his body. This time tomorrow, he would be COUNCILLOR DUNNYSMORE. Then he could tell everyone, and especially those people who tormented him to take their shit and have sex with it. He smiled at his own wit.

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The Reverend Harmon was preparing for the election day as well. He had visited all the polling places, at Edmonton, Hambledon and his home suburb of Bentley Park and helped erect tents, tables and chairs for the volunteers. Not that there were many volunteers left now. He had had to coerce his Aunt and Uncle to man the booth at Edmonton for half a day as more volunteers had backed away.
As he drove between the various polling places, making sure everyone had enough of the "How to Vote" papers, bottles of water and lists of mobile phone numbers to keep everyone connected during the day, he went over the events of the last twenty-four hours in his mind.

Following the local shock jock's talk-back radio show, he had received several abusive phone calls, mostly anonymous. Then after midday, Amber had arrived home from work in tears. She had overheard two of the women she worked with describe him as a "womanising sleaze hiding behind the cross". Amber had defended her husband as best she could before dissolving into floods of tears.

That afternoon, their oldest son, Aiden, arrived home with a black eye, a split lip and severe chest bruising. A fight had broken out in the school grounds of the Bentley Park State Primary School with some boys bullying Aiden about his father. Aiden had attempted to defend himself, and would have received more severe injuries had not some teachers intervened.

He had no idea his community aspirations could hurt his family so deeply, the Reverend thought grimly. His opponents had likely destroyed his political ambitions with one awful lie, but in so doing had put his family through hell. Once he saw his son's battered and bruised face, and watched how his son stoicly held back his tears, the Reverend decided that he would never stand as a candidate for public office ever again.

As he pulled up outside the Bentley Park State School, he swore softly under his breath as he spotted the 60 Minutes film crew waiting. He had completely forgotten how the producer had said they would come back after his successful television appearances to film the by-election. He could hear the journalese as the program aired...."The sky pilot from Bentley Park in the Far Norths city of Cairns, who appeared on this program some weeks ago, has fallen, big time....".

The only thing left for him was to discover just how many voters had deserted him.....

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Bud Yarrow sipped his coffee on the balcony of his first class hotel on the Cairns Esplanade as he read the days schedule prepared for him by the staff of the CUSH CONSERVATIVES COUNCIL TEAM. He noted that the local television media were expected to film the polling stations around noon, and it was suggested that he be there for the filming. The party staff had arranged all of this a few weeks back. All the polling stations were well manned, right down to ample scrutineers for the evening. Even the celebratory party had been planned and was to be held that evening in the ballroom of a local hotel. Black tie only.

Yarrow sent an SMS text message off to his wife Mia to be ready at approximately 11.30 when he would have his chauffeur drive by and pick her up so that the two of them could be seen visiting the volunteers at the polling station. He and his wife had not lived together for years, but both agreed to play the part of the happily married couple when occasion demanded it. Such as this election.

Mia "scrubbed up well" Yarrow thought. All the plastic surgery, teeth whitening, breast enlargement, laser and botox and what have you had kept her looking youthful for her own career
in life which was admiring herself in mirrors and comparing her beauty with other womens.

He stretched back in his chair and yawned. The campaign for Councillor hadn't been too difficult, a bit of a bore really. He was naturally competitive, but this hadn't been any real competition. Kenny Cush had fallen over himself in agreeing to endorse him as the candidate for the Division, when he offered Cush a cut in his businesses in Vietnam. Yarrow owned and operated several hotels in Vietnam and had cashed in on the growing "medical tourist" industry to Vietnam. As he explained to Cush, each year thousands of Australians, Americans and Europeans were flocking to countries like Vietnam for surgeries and dental treatments which were affordable in Vietnam but were no longer affordable in the West. Yarrow's company organised the whole kit and kaboodle for everyone. From the air travel, to hotel accommodation, to choosing the hospital and medical team, to the interpreter to his privately owned taxis and restaurants. It was a lucrative business with ever increasing profits. Cush had been only too happy to accept a parcel of shares in the company.

It was the only way to do business, Yarrow reasoned. A bit of the old quid pro quo. It had been very successful for him all his life, and every man had his price. Most men and women were hungry. He had seen it in Cush's eyes the moment he first saw him. And in the eyes of his Deputy Mayor, the lizard like man Cush called Horsey. And hunger for money was rarely sated.

There were all types of hunger, Yarrow reflected as he stood on the balcony and watched the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean lap the Cairns Esplanade. He, too, had hungers. He hungered for money, for wealth and status, but there was another hunger. One which he kept well hidden.

Abruptly, he left the balcony and went back into the rooms inside where he took out his laptop.
He had some emails to send. As he sent them off, he smiled as he thought that from tomorrow he could rightfully end his emails with, Councillor Bud Yarrow, Cairns Regional Council. Not of course that he wanted it all to end with being a mere Councillor. He had noted that Ken Cush didn't look exactly what anyone would call "salubrious" however they stretched their imagination. In fact the fat fuck looked like he could have a severe coronary at any moment. Yarrow stifled a dry chuckle as he thought about a certain Vietnamese doctor he had befriended who had told him that certain drugs could hasten a major heart attack. Give or take a couple of months, he would be his Worship the Mayor of Cairns, Bartholomew (Bud) Yarrow.

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