Hard Cuddles. James Harding

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ job involved riding my bike with a backpack and delivering tablets and medicine to elderly people who couldn’t leave their houses. I was drug dealing even back then. It was a prick of a job when it rained, so occasionally Mum would drive us in the car. When I initially took the job on, I did it every day to get a feel for it and I learned what days I would get the best customers, meaning the ones that would give generous tips. Mr Edbrooke was a beauty, smoking his Camel cigarettes, he would put his hand in a loose change bowl and give whatever he scooped up. One day I received about $14 which was a fortune then. Another notable tipper was the big rock spider that lived on McKinnon Rd. He would regularly tip $5 and really enjoyed it when the kids dropped off his supplies. He would come to the front door salivating, overwhelmed by the younger company. We were all warned about him; you had to stay on your toes at his place.

      Then there was the confectionery wholesaler next to Malvern station. I made up an order list of all the different bits and pieces: sherbets, pineapples, snakes, violet crumbles, raspberries, all of the favourites. Then off I would go around the neighbourhood taking orders and cash. I would tally up my orders and head to the wholesaler to buy sweets in bulk. When I got home I would break them into smaller bundles, repackage and on-sell it. This was quite a good business, the feedback was very encouraging and it appealed to the customer’s weakness: sugar, door-to-door sugar. My customers would go inside with their loot and disguise their addictions by saying, ‘Oh I’m just supporting the young kid having a go, great to see a young fella with that drive.’ Make no mistake about the choice of product on my part, I knew exactly what I was doing.

      It was this last business that really opened my eyes. It was interesting to see how easy it is to sell your product to an addict. They loved it and would eagerly await your return.

      SHINER…DAMIAN AND RIKKI STORY

      ‘Nobody can give you freedom. Nobody can give you equality or justice or anything. If you’re a man, you take it.’

      — Malcolm X

      I copped a lot of shit for only starting puberty in year nine. I was a late developer. My legs didn’t really have any hair on them and for that, a few of the guys suggested I was most likely a little light on hair in the pubic region as well. Damian was the ring leader; a skinny Italian kid with two older brothers. Damian was a talented footballer and most likely would have been drafted, had he not been vertically challenged. He was an interesting looking individual. He had an abnormally large forehead that was really long and on the right side of this forehead he had this lump. To match the lump Damian had a massive nose. His side profile looked the Himalayas, but I let all of this go, I didn’t mention it ... until much later.

      Damian the Lump and a couple of guys started calling me Shiner. Boys being boys all joined in and it wasn’t long before this shit got out of hand. I wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this sort of foul slander and the Lump was really enjoying himself.

      One day we were in the gymnasium watching the seniors play basketball. This was always fun because we got out of class and basketball is a game that I have always loved. The Lump decided it would be a good idea to get the rest of the class to start singing ‘C’mon on baby wax my shiner’ to the tune of the Doors song, Light My Fire, which, to his credit, was pretty funny. Even back then I could appreciate the humour in it, but after months of this shiner business, it had worn thin and I had had enough.

      I walked to where the toughest kid in the school was sitting and the Lump and the rest of his choir immediately fell silent. My plan had already succeeded without me taking any action. I approached Rikki, the tough guy, and asked him if one bottle of bourbon was a fair payment to wait at Malvern Station and open a can of whoop-ass on the Lump. As I said this I looked over and pointed in his general direction. Rikki nodded. I told Rikki to leave it with me and I would organise payment, time and date. This was my first involvement in organised crime and I have to say it was very productive.

      As I sat back down in my chair the silence was deafening, None of the choir knew who I had put in the gun. The Lump definitely knew he was in the gun and looked like Coyote from the Roadrunner cartoon as he is about to fall off a cliff. As luck would have it, one of Rikki’s good mates was sitting next to the Lump. I didn’t quite catch what the Lump asked him but Rikki’s mate said ‘Lump, you are going to get your arse kicked, Rikki doesn’t fuck around.’ With that I sat back and let fear do the work for me. Job done. Fear is an incredible tool if it’s used properly. It’s easy to work out that fear is more effective than actual violence. The anticipation and threat of pain can send someone into the dark corridors of self-doubt and the Lump was well and truly down that long and lonely hallway. He was all by himself, the bravado and courage had evaporated, he was now struggling to swallow and maintain his composure. His need to gain acceptance from his peers had failed. No one wanted to know him now, out of the fear of getting hurt themselves. I let the uncertainty marinate for a few days, he didn’t know when it was coming or how. It was fascinating to watch the Lump get around like a dog walking on polished floor boards with socks on.

      The funny thing is, I didn’t even want to hurt the Lump and I never followed through with the order. But a precedent had been set and no one bothered me much after that, which was a feat in itself as I was a real smart-ass. Later, the Lump and I became close, we actually spent quite a bit of time together. He had a lovely family and his older brothers were hilarious. But the Lump always felt the need to be sarcastic and give people shit. He really struggled with women and if it wasn’t for yours truly setting him up with a girl that I can only describe as ‘wild’, he would still be a virgin at twenty. Lump was just an insecure kid finding his way in life by projecting negative attention away from himself and towards other people.

      DOGGY STYLE AND THE COIN TOSS

      ‘There is no such thing as good money and bad money. There’s just money.’

      — Lucky Luciano

      After my first taste with organised crime, after having successfully planted the seed of fear in Lump, I have to say it really grew on me. The power was addictive and the thrill of having control over someone else was exciting. My main focus was myself and making sure I was treated with the respect I felt that I deserved. But every now and again someone comes along to test you and it’s pretty obvious that you need to eliminate the problem.

      For business management class we had to set up a small business at school and work out our profit/loss, outgoings and everything associated with running a business. The thought of this was tantalising for me, making money has never been a problem. I teamed up with another couple of guys and we decided to run a hot dog stand and call it ‘Doggy Style’. It was a great idea and would have worked but the teachers canned it, on the account of the name. I would not budge. It was the central focus of the business and its main drawcard. The teacher, to his credit, laughed and liked the name, but being a Catholic school run by brothers, it was never going to fly. So to stick it right up the school and the brothers, I organised a huge piece of laminated chipboard with different amounts of money penned in little squares: 50 cents, $3, $5, $10 and so on. The highest being $20 and if you landed a coin in the certain section of the $20 square, it was $20 x 2 = $40, a lot of money for a school kid, but also a massive incentive.

      All you needed were gold coins to play and you would toss the coin and try and land it inside the square to get that amount of money. This was my first foray into illegal gambling, it was always going to be a success. The idea of the task was to gain business management experience.

      It took off like wild fire, the kids queued up, three deep to take their chance at winning some cold, hard cash. There were even teachers coming over to have a shot and look at the commotion. I was directing the play, there was a bag man collecting the money, a guy scooping the losing bets off the table and three guys giving change and making sure it was all sweet.

      By lunchtime the business СКАЧАТЬ