Ray Lujack was part of the parade for returned Vietnam soldiers in Melbourne in ‘72. He was walking in his uniform, the slouch hat on and his boots felt heavy on the hot asphalt on a thirty-plus day. Some young hippy girl with long, light brown hair and a severe fringe spat at him and called him a dog. He remembered that she wore a brown suede Jacket with tassels on it. He looked into her eyes, the most beautiful brown eyes, and she was laughing, having fun. It was the ignorance Ray couldn’t stand. He didn’t volunteer. His number got picked and it was prison or Vietnam. Ray had a rough idea of what prison was like, so it was Vietnam. It was tough there. Sure, there was weed and beer and some good mates (pricks too, though) plus the girlie bars as a distraction. Heroin too but he didn’t go there. That was his line in the sand. He would never wear any part of the uniform again..
***
At the finish of the parade, he changed out of the uniform and caught the Glen Waverley line train to Holmesglen Station and walked to the Matthew Flinders Hotel. He found his mate, Jude sitting at a two-seater right in the far corner of the public bar. He shook Ray’s hand, and said, ‘Mate, mate, you look big.’
‘Thanks, Jude, let’s sit down huh, no need for a show.’
His mate Jude sat down, blinked, took a sip of his pot of Carlton Draught beer, smiled, and said, ‘How’d it go?’
‘Not good, we can leave it at that.’
‘Protestors?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Pricks.’
‘You’re not wrong.’
‘Feel alright though, nothing wrong with you?’
‘You my doctor now?’
‘Friend.’
‘Friend who got to stay home.’
‘How bad was it?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it, not ever, that’s the rule. You got any work going?’
Jude said nothing, took another sip on his pot, then said, ‘You getting a beer or what?’
‘Yep,’ Ray said and got up, walked to the bar, there was a skinny girl, wearing a black singlet, tending bar. A sharpie, she had a shaved head and rats tails at the back. This was his local before Nam, but he’d never seen her before.’
‘Three pots, love.’
‘Who’s the other for?’
‘Me.’
‘Need a beer then.’
‘Something like that.’
‘Won’t be a sec,’ she said and pulled three pot glasses from a metal tray that been set to cool. She poured one beer, lined up the second and said to Ray, ‘Haven’t seen you here before?’
‘I was thinking the same thing myself.’
‘I’ve been here a few months. This your local?’
‘It is.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Ray. Ray Lujack.’
‘I know that name.’
Ray smiled as she poured the third beer, then lined them up on a towel on the bar, dripping foam and froth down the sides. Ray grabbed one off the towel and knocked it back in a few seconds.
‘Where you from?’
‘Around here. You used to play for Oakleigh in the VFA, didn’t you? Centre-half-forward.’
‘Yeah, been in Vietnam.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
She was the first person to have said that. It meant something.
‘Thanks.’
‘What happened. Not playing now?’
‘Not in summer, love’ he said and smiled at her, grabbed the two beers, walked back to the two-seater and put them down on the wooden table top. Jude said, ‘I’m not working, not proper work,’ and he leaned in close and said, ‘But I got a crew together, could use a bloke like you.’
‘A crew, that’s what they call it these days.’
‘You kill anyone?’
‘Jesus, mate, I told you. I don’t talk about it.’
‘There’s three of us. We’ve done some betting shops, small ones. Want to get bigger. Two of us go in, the other one drives the wheels. In and out.’
‘Count me out.’
They talked of football, cricket and politics. Kept drinking and drinking talking about old mates and Ray made a concession to his rule and talked about the mates that hadn’t made it home. He chatted to Del, the sharpie barmaid and when it came time for last beers, she came over and joined them for one.
***
The next morning, he woke with a start, his body covered in sweat. He lent up off the bed. Wasn’t sure where he was. Then he heard the toilet flush, and Del walked out of the bathroom naked. Skinny as hell. She smiled at him, grabbed a packet of Peter Jackson Blues off the night stand, lit one, offered the pack to Ray, and said, ‘You want one?’
They were in the Matthew Flinders Motel, she was married, they got the room for free as she was backing up for the early shift. He remembered she telephoned her husband from the motel room phone. He said, ‘Yeah, why not. Any coffee in this room?’
‘Coffee sachets in the little wicker basket above the bar fridge, UHT milk in the fridge.’
He got out of bed covered in sweat, put his black jocks on and then his blue Wrangler jeans. It was warm in the room. He plugged the kettle into the power point in the bathroom, emptied three sachets of Nescafe into a small white cup, waited, said nothing, the kettle boiled. He took it back from the bathroom, filled his cup almost to the brim added one UHT, so that it was like mud, and said, ‘I’ll have that smoke now.’
She threw the pack at him, he caught it one-handed, she followed up with the lighter, which dropped at his feet. She was still naked. He put the coffee on his night stand, picked up the lighter, lit the cigarette, sat on the bed, his back pushed hard against the backboard. Jude was right, he was big and strong, had a hard, creased, handsome face. Centre-half-forward was the hardest position to play, only the guns played there and Ray had been a gun, hoped he still was. He said to her, ‘You do this before?’
‘First time.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘Don’t be.’
He chuckled to himself, he liked her. But boy she was skinny.
***
He tooled around for a few weeks not really doing much. He had nightmares. He thought it might be different when he got home but they still came in the night and like in Nam, he didn’t tell anyone. Couldn’t show weakness. Old mates, they always wanted to know what it was like. Get lost was what he felt like saying to them but he mumbled a few things, forgettable things, shrugged and said he’d rather forget about it. He started looking seriously for work. He had no trade. He’d done odd jobs, worked for landscapers or rubbish removalists. Oakleigh Footy Club paid him under the table, cash every Sunday night, bonus if they won but they hadn’t even started pre-season training yet.
He sat at the kitchen table, turned on the radio, switched the dial to 3XY. He listened to Cat Stevens and Jethro Tull but he turned the volume up when The Dingoes came on with Way Out West. The phone rang loudly, he pushed his chair back and reached for it on the kitchen wall, said, ‘Hello.’
‘Ray?’
‘Yep, Jude, whattaya, know?’
‘Remember what I told you about in the pub the other day.’
‘Yep.’
‘Come round tonight.’
‘What time?’
‘Seven, be good.’
‘BYO is it?’
‘Yeah, mate.’
‘Why not,’ he said and hung up.
***
He got to Jude’s place by taxi, they drove through the bottle shop on the way and he bought four long necks of VB. Knocked on the door of Jude’s fibro commission house in Holmesglen. Waited. Jude pulled the door back. He had shaved his head, no sharpie tails at the back, the full skinhead. Ray said, ‘G’day, mate.’
‘Come in, go through to the kitchen, we’re talking, working things out.’
Ray followed him down the short hallway into the kitchen. Lino on the floor, a small Formica table with four chairs with red cushion seats and hard wire backs. One seat occupied by a short balding, thick set man, hair on the back of his neck like a wild dog. Jude said, ‘This is Trevor.’
‘The guy stood up, stuck a big paw out. Ray took it, shook it straight and firm, looked him in the eye, and said, ‘Good to meet you, Trev.’
‘Same,’ he said and sat back down.
‘Wanna beer,’ Ray said to Trev.
‘Wouldn’t say no.’
‘Got some glasses, Jude.’
‘Only got ponies, that be alright.’
‘Yeah, be fine, go down quicker, eh?’
Jude put three seven-ounce glasses down on the table. Ray took one of the long necks and opened it on a bottle opener stuck on the fridge, filled the three glasses, said, ‘Good luck.’
They all touched glasses and Trev and Ray knocked them back in one, Jude had two gulps to finish his own, then said, ‘Better get down to it.’
Ray felt someone behind him, come in from the hallway and when he turned he nearly dropped his beer on the floor, and said, ‘Fuck me.’
The girl who had walked in said, ‘What?’
‘You don’t remember me?’
‘Should I?’
‘You called me a dog.’
‘What?’
He could see her gorgeous big brown eyes, the long hair and severe fringe. He wanted to explode.
‘You called me a dog.’
‘Jude, who is this guy?’
‘Ray, mate, what’re on about?’
‘She was at the protest, uh, the parade down Swanson Street. Yelled out at me, spat at me.’
She bowed her head. Jude said, ‘This true, Jeanie?’
‘I was there. Don’t remember this bloke though, it was a paid thing, just had to turn up and yell out and carry on and…’
‘You got paid for that?’ Ray said.
‘Yeah.’
‘This bloody world we live in, ‘he said. ‘No matter, we know she’ll do anything for money, so that’s good.’
No-one said anything for a good ten seconds then Jeanie turned to Ray, and said, ‘I’m sorry, mate.’
‘Everyone okay,’ Jude said.
There was no answer just a nodding of heads.
‘Alright, take a seat everyone. I’ll lay it out for you. I’m for doing two jobs in one day. In and out.’
They wanted Ray on the front door of the bank, inside looking out. He would have a hand gun. Jude and Trevor would have sawn-off 22 rifles. Trev and Jude would take the money from the safe and the tellers. Jude knew what time they opened the safe in the morning, just before opening, they would follow in a worker, bust their way in, get down to it. The girl was the driver.
The job explained, Jude said, ‘Who is in?’
‘Me,’ Trev said.
‘I need a few days,’ said Ray.’
‘I’m in, ‘Jeanie said.
‘Right, we wait on old mate, Ray.’
***
Ray read The Herald newspaper. There had been an armed hold-up during the morning at the Collingwood TAB. It was number one-hundred-and-sixty-five for the year. Ray didn’t know the stats on getting away with it though. He’d tried going to the local RSL but more than a few of the World War Two veterans made it clear they didn’t think that Vietnam was a real war. Christ. What did they think he did over there.? Get high all day. He killed people. He was shot at. His mates, fuck. Every day it seemed to be hammered home to him that people hated the Vietnam War and that hate trickled down to him.
He had a recurring nightmare where he woke in the humid, oppressive, jungle sitting with his back against a tree, opened his eyes to see his mate Billy smiling at him, then two shots. Not loud. One after the other, super-quick, in the chest, the wound opened him up. Jesus. Billy. He was a good bloke.
He wondered if he should go bush. Sell the house his mother had left him in her will but he thought once pre-season training kicked in with his teammates things would settle down. But in a strange way he craved danger and excitement too. He though Jude had kept it simple. Two banks was ambitious, but people were getting away with it. The car they would use was a good choice. A Triumph Dolomite Sprint. 0 to 60 mph in 8.4 seconds, in a car that looked like your mum only drove it to the shops and back three times a week. Top speed of 120 miles per hour. He asked Jude for another week to think about it, which was agreed to.
***
He wanted to call Del, but she had made it clear it was a one-time thing. She loved her husband. She was the only one he’d met who got what a shitshow Vietnam was and that he had no choice. Guys he served with just wanted to forget it all. He did too.
He rang Jude, and said, ‘I’m in.’
Jude called back a few hours later from a public phone booth and told him.
‘This Thursday.’
It was as he had laid it out the other night. Two banks. The Commonwealth Bank at Chadstone Shopping Centre. A break of half-an-hour then the ANZ at Carnegie on Koornang Road. Chadstone at 9am. ANZ at 9.30am. Thursday was payday, the armoured vehicles dropped off all the wages cash to the banks early in the morning. It would be sitting there in the safe waiting for them.
If Ray was honest with himself, he was looking forward to the rush and the danger. He had told them he would have his own shotgun, not a handgun. Jude had thought the handgun would work as people walking past might not see it but Ray wanted the power of the shotgun if things went belly-up. He didn’t want to kill anyone, Jesus, no, just blast the thing above heads so it scared the shit out of any heroes that might think they could stop him.
The night before the bank job Del rang Ray.
‘I didn’t think you wanted to know me.’
‘This might be nothing or it might be something.’
‘Big mystery, Del, what’s going on?’
‘I get it you’re not happy with me but…’
‘You’re married love, nothing I can do.’
‘I heard two cops in the bar last night talking about Jude.’
‘About what?’
‘I couldn’t get close enough to hear them. All I heard was one cop say to the other, and they were D’s not uniform.’
‘What, Del? What?’
‘One said Jude Norton gave me a tip.’
‘Could be horses, the harness racing, the bloody dish lickers.’
‘I thought you should know.’
‘Thanks, Del. I’ve known Jude since we were kids but. I can’t see him want…’
‘I want to see you, Ray.’
‘Me too.’
‘Can you come tonight? I’m starting early again tomorrow, they’ll give me a room again. I’ll call you when I knock off. Give you the room number.’
‘Alright, Del, good to hear…’
‘I’ll call, soon as I get the room number,’ she said and hung up straight after.
‘Jude a rat? He couldn’t see it and old Jude was huge punter so the tip made sense. Why would he tip off his own job?
He punched Jude’s number into the phone on the wall. He answered and Ray said, ‘Jude, mate…’
‘Don’t say anything else. I’ll call you soon.’
Ten minutes later Jude rang Ray from a public phone and said, ‘You’re not backing out, mate.’
‘No.’
‘Jesus, what then?’
‘We good. Nothing you need to tell me?’
‘Like what?’
‘Trev and the girl, Jeanie, we’re all good.’
‘Ready to go mate, don’t back out now.
‘Alright good.’
‘Just need a cuddle is that it, Ray?’
They both laughed, and Ray said, ‘Fuck you,’ and hung up.
***
Del walked naked from the bathroom. Ray thinking again she was skinny as hell. It was 6am, He said, ‘You like strutting around naked, don’t you?’
‘I can see you looking at me with those hungry eyes.’
‘Come here then,’ he said reaching out from the bed, grabbing her around the waist and dragging her back in next to him. She kissed him hard on the lips and said, ‘I’m falling for you, Ray.’
‘Don’t fall too hard.’
***
Jeanie picked him up in the small Triumph sedan near the corner of Warrigal and Waverley roads in a tiny little shopping strip with only half-a-dozen shops. Jude was in the front seat. Trevor was in the back. Ray opened the back door and slid in beside Trevor, his sawn-off shotgun in a canvas sports bag with a black balaclava.
It was quiet as they drove up Middle Road to Chadstone Shopping Centre, but stinking hot in the little car already. There was hardly anyone about, most shops only opening at 9am. As they approached the bank, they all put their black Balaclavas on. Jeanie wore a red wig, her long hair tucked up underneath the bob style wig. Just as they hit the spot outside the bank, a guy in blue pants, a white polyester shirt, and a loud multi-coloured tie knocked on the Commonwealth bank door and Jude said softly,
‘Now, now, now.’
They all got out, Ray grabbed the guy by the shirt collar as planned, and said, ‘Don’t say a word. Don’t say a thing. Just go in like normal.’
The guy froze when the bank door opened and Ray said softly into his ear, ‘Go now.’
He walked in with Ray behind him, then Jude burst in, fired two shots at the roof, and yelled, ‘Down, down, down, everybody down. Not you, not you,’ he yelled at one guy who he knew to be the manager, ‘not you,’ he said pointing at the man.
Nobody moved, it was like a pause button had been hit, everything stopped. Jude jumped the counter, told all the tellers, ‘Don’t even think about it,’ then yelled, ‘anyone touches a button, or moves for an alarm is dead.’
Ray was boiling hot in the balaclava. He saw an old blue Ford Falcon pull up, but no-one got out. He kept watching but still no-one got out. Trevor grabbed the guy who they had followed in and made him empty all the teller cash trays. The guy was dropping as much as he stuffed into the bag Trev had given him.
The bag filled with cash, Trev told the guy to get down on the floor. Jude came out with sports bags, one over each arm, his sawn-off out in front of him, and said, ‘Be cool, everyone. It’s over. You’re all safe, don’t do anything stupid.’
The three of them burst out of the bank and Ray saw three cops pile out of the Falcon a second before they saw him and he yelled to the others, ‘Cops!, Bloody cops.’ They were thirty feet away from them, the Dolomite Sprint was humming, Jeanie revved it loud, opened the passenger door and yelled, ‘Go! Go!.’
Ray heard a gunshot as the back door swung open and he threw one bag of cash in and dived in after it. Jeanie hit the gas hard and they flew out of there in a quick 180 move, the tyres screeching hard. Ray opened the back window and looked out. Trevor was on the ground, a cop was handcuffing him, the other two cops were running for their car, but Jeanie hit the exit ramp closest to Chadstone Cricket Club Oval and floored the car into the carpark and behind the cricket nets, and slipped it in behind a wall of trees. They waited a few seconds. Waited and said nothing. Ray got out of the car and saw the blue Ford Falcon scream out of the exit ramp and onto a side street and it burst away from them. He jumped back in the car, and said, ‘Drive out of here slowly, turn right, head to Chadstone Road, turn right there and keep driving to Waverley Road. She did it.
At Waverley Road he said, ‘Drive until you reach Shrewsbury Street, then turn left. There’s a bridge over the small creek, park the car on the grey clay behind the blackberry trees. She did it all cool as you like, then they crossed the footbridge together and Ray found a public phone, rang the Matthew Flinders public bar, Del answered, he said, ‘You were right.’
‘Are you safe?’
‘Yep. I need a place to lay low for a few days.’
‘They don’t know about us unless you told someone.’
‘Didn’t say anything. Can you…’
‘My mum’s away at my Nan’s in Surfers’ for a week, you’re lucky.’
‘Address.’
She gave him an address in Mentone.
‘How’ll we…’
Who’s we?’
‘The driver. A girl.’
‘Keys are under a frog in the back garden. Green frog turn it over, the keys are inside it. Mum keeps to herself. Neighbours don’t give a shit. You should be right.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Stay in touch.’
‘Yep.’
He turned to Jeanie, she said, ‘You trust me?’
‘Have to. You want to come with me, Jude knows where you live I’m guessing.’
‘Yep.’
‘I’ve got a mate who drives a taxi, I’ll call him. He won’t say anything.’
‘Okay.’
The taxi turned up in ten minutes, they both got in the back, Ray had his shotgun in one sports bag and another bag full of cash. He hadn’t said his real name on the phone. The taxi driver, a Greek guy called Gino said, ‘Ray, what’s all the mystery?’
‘Oh, my friend here called the taxi company. We were just messing around.’
‘Back from Nam?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You alright, you’re sweating like…’
‘Mate, it’s close to forty degrees out there, that’s over a hundred in the old scale.’
‘True, true, where you going?’
‘Mentone, straight down Warragul Road.’
Gino drove to the instructions and no-one said anything. Gino wasn’t a close friend but Ray thought he could trust him. They piled out on a side street about one-hundred metres from the Nepean Highway. Ray paid Gino and they wished each other well. He found the green frog and opened the back door and they were in.
He turned on the TV and found the ABC. The news was on. The armed robbery at Chadstone Shopping Centre was the second item. There was footage of Trevor getting shot by two police detectives, it showed Ray diving into the back seat but nothing of Jude. The news report confirmed it was a girl driving the car. It said that the man who escaped by diving into the car had fired at police. He hadn’t.
***
Gino stopped the taxi on the Nepean Highway at a public phone box. He rang Jude who answered quickly, ‘Hello, yes.’
‘It’s Gino.’
‘He called you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Where’d you drop them?’
Gino gave him the address. Jude said, ‘There’s five-hundred waiting for you, as promised. How is he? How is the girl?’
‘They seemed alright. No-one injured, nothing like…’
Jude hung up on him. Gino only shook his head and got back in the taxi.
***
Ray called Jude from the phone in the house, he answered, ‘Hello.’
‘Why Jude?’
‘Ray, shit, mate.’
‘No mate, Jude, not this time.’
‘Cops have me cold on video from a previous job. I help them. Make them look like heroes. I get off.’
‘Why me?’
‘Could have been anyone, Ray. I’m not going to jail.’
‘Trevor got shot.’
‘Collateral damage, you’d know about that from the war and…’
Ray hung up. Jesus, he thought. Jude, you dog. Vietnam, now this.
He told Jeanie what Jude had said.
‘What are you thinking of doing? We can’t stay here.’
‘I need a few minutes, we can probably spend one night here.’
The cars arrived quickly out the front. It was Jeanie who said, ‘Shit there here, you’re mate the taxi fuck…’
‘Down, get down, lay down, you don’t want to get shot.’
‘What’re you doing?’
Ray didn’t answer, he flew out the back door with his shotgun and jumped over the back fence, there was a dunny lane behind the house and he put his head down and kept running. Jeanie tried to follow him, but she couldn’t make it over the fence on the first attempt, she got up, held on by her arms, nearly over, when she felt the cop grab her leg, say, ‘Stop, stop.’
She kicked out at him with short, hard, brown boots. He grabbed again. She kicked him away and got over the fence, saw Ray shoot down another lane just as a cop car screamed around a corner into the lane. She ran fast but the car shot up right behind her and then a cop met her running head on. She put her hands up. Sat down. Started to cry. Ray was in the wind.
Ray found a house with a little garden shed and he ducked in there. Sat silent, only breathing in and out slowly, getting his breath back. He listened and heard cars on gravel and words he couldn’t understand. He waited ten, then fifteen minutes. They would be all over the place soon, with choppers and all the rest of their resources. He was an armed gunman who had fled.
He remembered when he was teenager he had gone to a youth group at the Sacred Heart Church in Oakleigh. There was a house on the church land, up against the trees at the back of the property. The church had even called it ‘the house.’ Somewhere for the young to go and meet other young people under the wing of the Catholic Church. It was only open on weekends. He could go there, break-in, there was only furniture in the house, possibly a phone. He stepped out of the garden shed and looked in the back window of the house. There was no-one about. He checked the garage, there was no car. He jimmied the back door with a big screwdriver from the garden shed. Mentone was close to the beach. His plan was to simply catch the bus down Warragul Road but he had to change his clothes. He found a pair of khaki shorts, a black t-shirt, slung a towel over his shoulder. A couple of extra tees for later. He had his wallet. The money from the robbery was still back at Del’s mum’s house. He wished he hadn’t involved Del.
He walked towards Warragul Road, the extra tees and his sawn-off in hessian bag. He wondered why Jude hadn’t old the cops who he was, maybe he had, they just didn’t broadcast it. He walked on the sidewalk, a few cars went by him, he looked down a side street and saw a cop car driving towards him, he ducked into a front yard, lay flat, the car went past. He got on the street again, found the bus stop okay, but hid in a front yard again until he saw the bus coming. He heard the chopper overhead. When he was on the bus, he saw two police cars going down Warragul Road towards Mentone where he had come from.
He got off before the Oakleigh overpass, found ‘the house.’ He couldn’t get in. He wrapped his hand in a t-shirt and punched a hole in the window of a bedroom at the back and climbed in. He lay down on a couch and again and breathed in and out until he was silent and his heart stopped beating so fast.
There was no way out. He couldn’t sell his house and take off . That was over but maybe, maybe if he could somehow get out of the city, go bush, find work in the outback.
There was a phone, he called Del at the pub. She answered, ‘Public bar.’
‘It’s me.’
‘Jesus, Ray, are you bloody crazy,’ she hissed.
‘I’m at the Sacred Heart Church, you wanna come away with me.’
‘Jesus, Ray, no.’
‘I’m gonna head for the bush.’
‘Go, Ray, go as fast as you can,’ she said and hung up.
The cop looked at Del and she said, ‘No, no…’
‘Better tell us, love, it’s his only chance to not get shot.’
She told them.
Ray heard the sirens, knew Del had told them, he got the shotgun and ran to the church as two police cars arrived. He ran to the altar and hid behind The Lord’s table. It was over he knew it but…he stood up and fired two shots straight down the aisle as the police came in. Two police had entered through the back door and Ray saw then settle in the back pews. A third policeman, who Ray didn’t see, came in with a rifle through a side door to the left.
Jude came through a side door on the right and Ray saw him and pulled the sawn-off up ready to fire but Jude said, ‘Ray, stop it, mate. Give yourself up, it’s your only chance.’
Ray didn’t know whether to go down guns blazing or, and then he stepped out from behind The Lord’s table in the middle of the altar. He stood there and dropped the shotgun, put his arms out wide and dropped his head onto his chest. The policeman with the rifle shot him twice, once in the chest and the second bullet tore through his temple, and killed him instantly. He dropped to the ground like crumpled cardboard.
He couldn’t live. Couldn’t be allowed to speak. The phone call to Jude. Ray knew everything. The whole rotten deal with the police. At the funeral the priest said it was the end of a troubled life. You can decide on that. Before Vietnam he had been the easy-going gun centre-half-forward. Working here and there and getting paid cash in hand. Del knew the truth but she wasn’t at the funeral, and she had quit working at the pub. Took off up north they reckon. Left her husband. Never came back.
[Image Credit : Photo by Tuệ Nguyễn on Unsplash ]
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