It's never been a big secret that I don't like being alone in a house at night time.
The first time it happened, I was 17 years old and it was in the house I grew up in, in the afluent suburb of Tamatea. I knew all the neighbours, I knew how to lock all the doors and windows, and to the best of my knowledge there had not recently been any massacres in my street.
That did not, however, stop me from checking all the doors and windows 16 times (an hour), sleeping with my light on, and pulling the phone as close as possible to my bedroom door as the cord would allow.
Fast forward about 25 years, and it's the night that Neil moved to Sydney. I'm a grown-up now and things have improved a little.
I checked all the doors and windows 16 times (an hour), slept with my light on, but this time I had my phone under my pillow with 000 dialed on the screen ready to go.
Four hours later, unbelievably, there had been no home invasion, but I stayed awake for a little bit longer just because I had nothing better to do.
By night three, I had been reduced to leaving the TV on in the lounge as well. Even psychotic murderers would have a hard time hanging around with the Ab Circle Pro infommercial on repeat.
I knew of course that, once Maz and Kyle arrived, I'd be fine. Because if someone did decide to come and attack us, I'd just explain that my daughter was in the house and that I'd appreciate it if they'd kindly leave.
Fast forward another ten days.
I had finally drifted off to sleep after lying awake for hours pondering life and other meaningful shit. The kids were tucked safely in bed, the heater was on, my alarm was set and the cats had me pinned in the prone position.
I was enjoying a lovely afternoon flying over Melbourne (not in a plane) and meeting up with some cats wearing cardigans sipping coffee at the Cafe in Albert Park, when suddenly I was yanked from my dream by a terrifying sound.
The sound of gunshots. Four of them. In my backyard.
Having had a little bit of experience with weapons and explosive devices, I knew this wasn't just a car backing firing.
Not being the best with distances, I didn't know it wasn't in my back yard.
I sat bolt-upright in bed and grabbed my phone that was stuck to my forehead.
I didn't want to wait for the shooters to burst into my house in order to accurately identify them, I took the risk of calling the Police anyway, hoping that a general description of "gunman" might suffice for now. I would have plenty of time to discuss this with the Police sketch artist after they were caught if I survived.
Cursing my phone company and their pitiful mobile coverage at my house, I was forced to lean over closer to the window to get reception. Praying to any god I could remember the name of, I felt a bit disloyal to my Athieism and jotted a note in S-Memo to come up with better words than "pray" and "god" the next time I was in crisis.
As I leaned toward the window, while covering my face with a pillow in case the shooter let fire right where I was, Madison burst into my room.
"What was that Mum??"
"Um, it was nothing missy, it's OK, we're alright. It was just gunshots."
She was looking slightly concerned as I pat the bed beside me calmly. She flicks the light on as Kyle wanders in behind her.
"TURN THE LIGHT OFF, OH MY GOD!"
"What, why?"
"WE DON'T WANT THE GUNMEN TO KNOW WE'RE AWAKE!!"
That assisted greatly in soothing her slightly frayed nerves.
"Emergency, Police, Fire or Ambulance?"
"POLICE!"
"POLICE!"
"What state and city are you calling from please?"
"Tullamarine! Oh, um..... *shit* Melbourne! That's right, Melbourne!"
"Putting you through now. Police, code five-six-niner-blah-blah caller go ahead."
I'm not sure this bitch understood the gravity of the situation.
"Police, what address and suburb are you calling from please?"
"Putting you through now. Police, code five-six-niner-blah-blah caller go ahead."
I'm not sure this bitch understood the gravity of the situation.
"Police, what address and suburb are you calling from please?"
"Melbourne! I'm in Melbourne! *shit* Melrose Drive, Tullamarine!"
"Are you inbetween Carol Grove and Melrose Drive?"
Oh my god. That's where the shooters are, it must be. They're got a trail of bodies and they want to know where to start looking for ours.
While I was confirming the exact location of the crime, I glanced over at Maz and remembered I was supposed to be the big brave adult.
"Um, yes, hi there. Uh, it would appear that there have been several gunshots fired, um within the vicinity of my backyard. It would be nice if you could send someone out to check and let me know when they've been caught?"
"OK ma'am, sure. So, what time did you hear these shots, and approximately how far away and in what direction were they?"
I didn't hear him call the dispatcher immediately so I'll be writing a very strongly worded letter to his supervisor once I get my wounds treated and discharged from hospital.
"Um, they were, like, well, I heard them about four minutes ago..."
Just making sure they got the message loud and clear that their response time was somewhat deficient.
"...and there was four of them. Really loud and right after one another. And they were only, like, metres away. Like really, really close. To the south, hang on, wait..."
I have to align myself on my bed with the direction of the runway, and stick my arms out.
"...yep, south. South west. Sort of south west eastish."
More accurate than a GPS. They should be on to him soon.
"OK ma'am we'll get someone out soon, would you like us to let you know what's happening?"
"Yep, yep, that'd be great thanks. I've got kids here and none of us will sleep until we know they've been caught. Thanks very much."
After hanging up, I turn to give some consolence to Maz who I'm sure is way more scared than I am. By now Kyle is looking really bored.
"I'm just going to go outside and have a durie."
"Oh no you're NOT! Why do you want to risk us all like that?! You're not going outside, they'll know we're up and awake and they'll come straight back here!"
Looking perturbed - and glancing an alarmed look in Maz's direction - he wanders back into their room and turns the TV on.
"It's OK missy, stay here with me. We'll be safe together. Just don't go near any windows and stay on the other side of me."
I've got this mothering-thing down pat.
Half an hour passes with us sitting on the bed holding hands, making small talk about petty things, like funeral plans, when there's a pounding on the door.
We look at each other alarmed. I'm tempted to send her to ask who it is but don't want to end up on the Jeremy Kyle Show taking a lie-detector test on the "Bitch, You Sent Our Daughter Straight Into The Arms of a Gunman" episode.
I venture warily into the back door entrance and yell out "who is it??"
No reply. If it was the Police they'd be all reassuring and waving torches and calling me Ma'am and letting me know I was OK. None of that.
I race back into the bedroom, briefly contemplating a quick visit to the bathroom on the way because there'd be nothing more embarrassing than being rushed to hospital with urine-stained underwear. Then I remember that if I don't survive this there'll be more than urine in my underwear so I hedge my bets and beeline straight to Maz.
"Quick, lets get into your room where Kyle is, there's safety in numbers!"
That's right. For the gunman and his sawn-off shot gun.
Luckily for me I can multitask, and while contemplating my bodily fluid evacuation options, I also remembered to grab my phone.
Cursing again at my phone company and their pitiful mobile coverage at my house, I was forced to lean over closer to the window to get reception. Again.
The window that faces right into our large backyard that has plenty of room for the gunman to get a better aim and spread.
Same drill, but I'm better prepared this time.
"Police please, I'm Melrose Victoria!""Putting you through now. Police, code five-six-niner-blah-blah caller go ahead."
Now I'm getting suspicious that this bitch is actually a recording. She didn't even ask how I was coping with being shot at.
"Police, what address and suburb are you calling from please?"
"Uh, hi. Melrose Drive, I called before about a gunman on the loose. I was just wondering, uh... if any Police have been around here? There was a knock at the door and they didn't answer and I couldn't seen any blue and red lights from their car..."
It's irrelevant that I live down a back property with no driveway.
"Uh, and yeah, no one answered when I called out and there were no torches or anything?"
"OK ma'am sure, I can see your call log here. I'll tell you what, I'll put you through to the dispatcher and they'll let you know what's going on OK?"
I'm slightly reassured by that the fact that I'm now only one degrees away from the Policemen that are going to be identifying our bodies.
"Hello, dispatch. Is this Karolyn? Hi there, how are you doing?"
There's no polite way to answer that without hurting his feelings and questioning his parentage.
"Hi, um, I just wondered, if the Police came round to tell us that a gunman had been caught? Or if it was in fact not them...."
I leave the rest unsaid and let the gravity of the situation sink in for a minute.
"They sure did Karolyn! They knocked on the door, but because there were no lights on they assumed you had gone back to sleep, so they left you alone. They've had to go off to an emergency now, would you like them to come back and see you and let you know what's going on?"
"Um, well, that depends. Have they, er, caught anyone...? Were they coming to tell me that everything is sorted and we're not going to get shot in our beds while we're sleeping?"
"Just one moment Karolyn..." I thought I heard a giggle then a cough, he must have had an itchy throat from the busy shift he's had tonight.
"So, Karolyn, I've got some good news for you. We've discovered the source of the noise you heard."
The gunshots.
"There's some work being done tonight on the major railway line near your house"
Oh my god, those poor workmens' wives and now-fatherless children.
"And because it's being done in the dark, they use a warning system for the workers."
Fair enough. If they're slacking off or having a smoke break in work time, so they should. And tom-foolery should never be condoned around heavy machinery.
"And what happens with this warning system is it lets them know when there's a train coming - and also lets the train driver know there's workers on the line."
Sounds like a good idea. A nice person must have thought of that, we don't want any train drivers running over workers in the middle of the night. Especially not when it would make the gunman's job easier.
"So they way they warn them is to use explosives on the railway track."
*cough*
"And when the train runs over those explosives, they let out a bang that sounds a lot like a firearm going off."
"Oh.....hahahaha I see!" I said, feeling a little bit silly that I didn't click straight away.
"So... what you're telling me is... the gunman is using the railway blasts as cover for his shooting spree."
While I was confirming the exact location of the crime, I glanced over at Maz and remembered I was supposed to be the big brave adult.
"Um, yes, hi there. Uh, it would appear that there have been several gunshots fired, um within the vicinity of my backyard. It would be nice if you could send someone out to check and let me know when they've been caught?"
"OK ma'am, sure. So, what time did you hear these shots, and approximately how far away and in what direction were they?"
I didn't hear him call the dispatcher immediately so I'll be writing a very strongly worded letter to his supervisor once I get my wounds treated and discharged from hospital.
"Um, they were, like, well, I heard them about four minutes ago..."
Just making sure they got the message loud and clear that their response time was somewhat deficient.
"...and there was four of them. Really loud and right after one another. And they were only, like, metres away. Like really, really close. To the south, hang on, wait..."
I have to align myself on my bed with the direction of the runway, and stick my arms out.
"...yep, south. South west. Sort of south west eastish."
More accurate than a GPS. They should be on to him soon.
"OK ma'am we'll get someone out soon, would you like us to let you know what's happening?"
"Yep, yep, that'd be great thanks. I've got kids here and none of us will sleep until we know they've been caught. Thanks very much."
After hanging up, I turn to give some consolence to Maz who I'm sure is way more scared than I am. By now Kyle is looking really bored.
"I'm just going to go outside and have a durie."
"Oh no you're NOT! Why do you want to risk us all like that?! You're not going outside, they'll know we're up and awake and they'll come straight back here!"
Looking perturbed - and glancing an alarmed look in Maz's direction - he wanders back into their room and turns the TV on.
"It's OK missy, stay here with me. We'll be safe together. Just don't go near any windows and stay on the other side of me."
I've got this mothering-thing down pat.
Half an hour passes with us sitting on the bed holding hands, making small talk about petty things, like funeral plans, when there's a pounding on the door.
We look at each other alarmed. I'm tempted to send her to ask who it is but don't want to end up on the Jeremy Kyle Show taking a lie-detector test on the "Bitch, You Sent Our Daughter Straight Into The Arms of a Gunman" episode.
I venture warily into the back door entrance and yell out "who is it??"
No reply. If it was the Police they'd be all reassuring and waving torches and calling me Ma'am and letting me know I was OK. None of that.
I race back into the bedroom, briefly contemplating a quick visit to the bathroom on the way because there'd be nothing more embarrassing than being rushed to hospital with urine-stained underwear. Then I remember that if I don't survive this there'll be more than urine in my underwear so I hedge my bets and beeline straight to Maz.
"Quick, lets get into your room where Kyle is, there's safety in numbers!"
That's right. For the gunman and his sawn-off shot gun.
Luckily for me I can multitask, and while contemplating my bodily fluid evacuation options, I also remembered to grab my phone.
Cursing again at my phone company and their pitiful mobile coverage at my house, I was forced to lean over closer to the window to get reception. Again.
The window that faces right into our large backyard that has plenty of room for the gunman to get a better aim and spread.
Same drill, but I'm better prepared this time.
"Police please, I'm Melrose Victoria!""Putting you through now. Police, code five-six-niner-blah-blah caller go ahead."
Now I'm getting suspicious that this bitch is actually a recording. She didn't even ask how I was coping with being shot at.
"Police, what address and suburb are you calling from please?"
"Uh, hi. Melrose Drive, I called before about a gunman on the loose. I was just wondering, uh... if any Police have been around here? There was a knock at the door and they didn't answer and I couldn't seen any blue and red lights from their car..."
It's irrelevant that I live down a back property with no driveway.
"Uh, and yeah, no one answered when I called out and there were no torches or anything?"
"OK ma'am sure, I can see your call log here. I'll tell you what, I'll put you through to the dispatcher and they'll let you know what's going on OK?"
I'm slightly reassured by that the fact that I'm now only one degrees away from the Policemen that are going to be identifying our bodies.
"Hello, dispatch. Is this Karolyn? Hi there, how are you doing?"
There's no polite way to answer that without hurting his feelings and questioning his parentage.
"Hi, um, I just wondered, if the Police came round to tell us that a gunman had been caught? Or if it was in fact not them...."
I leave the rest unsaid and let the gravity of the situation sink in for a minute.
"They sure did Karolyn! They knocked on the door, but because there were no lights on they assumed you had gone back to sleep, so they left you alone. They've had to go off to an emergency now, would you like them to come back and see you and let you know what's going on?"
"Um, well, that depends. Have they, er, caught anyone...? Were they coming to tell me that everything is sorted and we're not going to get shot in our beds while we're sleeping?"
"Just one moment Karolyn..." I thought I heard a giggle then a cough, he must have had an itchy throat from the busy shift he's had tonight.
"So, Karolyn, I've got some good news for you. We've discovered the source of the noise you heard."
The gunshots.
"There's some work being done tonight on the major railway line near your house"
Oh my god, those poor workmens' wives and now-fatherless children.
"And because it's being done in the dark, they use a warning system for the workers."
Fair enough. If they're slacking off or having a smoke break in work time, so they should. And tom-foolery should never be condoned around heavy machinery.
"And what happens with this warning system is it lets them know when there's a train coming - and also lets the train driver know there's workers on the line."
Sounds like a good idea. A nice person must have thought of that, we don't want any train drivers running over workers in the middle of the night. Especially not when it would make the gunman's job easier.
"So they way they warn them is to use explosives on the railway track."
*cough*
"And when the train runs over those explosives, they let out a bang that sounds a lot like a firearm going off."
"Oh.....hahahaha I see!" I said, feeling a little bit silly that I didn't click straight away.
"So... what you're telling me is... the gunman is using the railway blasts as cover for his shooting spree."
No comments:
Post a Comment