Holy Hell

by Patricia Feenan

  After about forty-five minutes, I rang the police and explained that this was a boy who was from the country and did not know his way around the suburbs of Newcastle. The policeman said “Lady, every fourteen-year-old boy in Newcastle is missing at the moment because Jimmy Barnes is performing in the area and they are up trees and on fences trying to get a free look and listen!”

  He also said if he didn’t turn up in another hour to ring him back. We continued searching and calling and tried not to alarm the elderly relatives at the party. Not long after, Daniel came wandering up the street and we were very angry with him. Of course we asked him where he had been and he gave a weak excuse that he had gone into a neighbouring yard to retrieve a tennis ball and people came out on to the verandah and he was trapped. He said he didn’t hear us calling and he must have dozed off.

  We were never satisfied with this explanation but as he appeared very upset, we let it drop and packed up and went home with mixed thoughts. I believe his father and I thought that he might have given us a true statement away from the birthday crowd but that didn’t happen. I remember he was very upset on the journey home and so were we as we had been very panicked by his absence.

  The next morning at Mass, I told Father Fletcher about Daniel going missing and our concerns and worry and he said “Drop it Pat! Teenage boys, in my experience, often tried to show some independence and break out of the family activities.” I could understand that there was some truth in this but then I knew Daniel would not want us to worry. We did not pursue the explanation but never forgot the uncharacteristic behaviour and indeed were able to recall the details of the night when asked by the police many years later. My own mother’s diary entry and the Jimmy Barnes concert reference were very helpful in pinpointing the date of the party. Of course we knew the date of the old fellow’s birthday, but not the exact date of the celebration.

  School and sporting achievements continued for Daniel and his brothers. We spent many weekends watching cricket as the four of them played with local teams and then representative teams as well. A lot of washing and salad rolls and sun lotion and insect repellent are my memories of those busy times. It is just a fact that we were so busy but I would not change those happy family times for anything.

  I love cricket. My grandfather was an excellent cricketer who took a hat trick “against the Poms,” my husband enjoyed a long cricket career as a player and administrator and then we had those four sons who never tired of the game. On summer Sunday evenings, after a whole weekend on the cricket ovals, the boys could be found in the backyard batting and bowling as if they were playing for Australia.

  Daniel’s cricket talent scored him a place in a Hunter Valley team to tour New Zealand. We were so proud of him and thought that he would love the tour. We had discussed that he was often quiet and his old sunny nature was not as evident as it had been but put this down as a change towards his approaching manhood.

  I remember two incidents about this time that were unusual and unexplained. One night, in the warmer months, my mother was minding the boys while John and I had an outing. I can’t remember whether we slept away or returned home very late but the next morning she told us that Daniel had gone missing for a while the night before. Naturally we asked him where he had been. He said that he had taken the dog for a walk. We found this unusual, because we lived on a little farm and that meant the dog had plenty of exercise as she chased around after the boys. To my knowledge, none of the boys had ever taken her for a walk. He said that the dog ran off near a neighbour’s party and it took him a while to retrieve her. It seemed reasonable but again a strange thing to do. We lived in the country and the neighbours were a fair hike away.

  We were uneasy when the neighbour rang to say Daniel had been spotted near the party. The man was worried that one of the guests had frightened him in the very natural circumstances of quizzing him about his reasons for being there. There was some embarrassed smooth talking with the neighbours in question and mention of the inquisitive nature of fifteen-year-old boys was made. Apologies all round and we breathed a sigh of relief. Strange behaviour and again we would recall the incident in the future.

  The other worrying thing at this time was the discovery that Daniel had lost a bag of his school clothes. We didn’t miss them until the morning he was to leave on a tour of New Zealand. At that particular time, it was only the school shoes we missed as he needed to wear them as part of the tour uniform. We tore the house apart as we all searched and Daniel became sullen. The more we looked, the worse he got.

  We left for the trip to the airport with mixed feelings. John was going as an accompanying adult and Luke was going as the chief supporter although he had hidden a set of cricket whites in the bottom of his suitcase just in case. Later in the tour, he did have a turn on a Kiwi wicket. Daniel was very upset on the way to Sydney and we couldn’t understand his mood. The disappointment of the missing shoes shouldn’t have caused such a reaction especially when he was able to wear an old pair.

  As I thought about the missing shoes later that night when I returned from the airport, I realized that a whole bag of school uniform was missing. Daniel had a part time job at the local shop and he would change into work clothes after school at the shop when he got off the school bus. In the bag was a set of uniform, shorts, shirt, belt and shoes and of course we hadn’t missed them as they must have gone missing in the last week of school before the Christmas break. Daniel hadn’t needed any of them until the shoes were needed for New Zealand. I rang the bus company, the school when the holidays were over and we searched through the storeroom of the little shop. No clothes. I was very surprised when they turned up many weeks later at the school. Daniel seemed vague about the discovery but we were glad to get them back and accepted the story.

  Another event we would recall in the future.

  6

  All the boys were growing and becoming individuals. They had their own friends, their own likes and dislikes and their own levels of motivation. These differences resulted in the need for them to be transported in many different directions, sometimes at the same time. We were very busy and these incidents, although unusual and worrying, did not really deter us from our mission of raising our sons in a respectful and loving environment. We laughed often and enjoyed one another.

  The boys now say that they had a wonderful childhood surrounded by family and amazing friends. The ten cousins enjoy being together and are soon transported back to the days of cubby houses, treasure hunts, magic, river and creek adventures and all manner of exploits, some of which the mothers have never discovered. That’s as it should be in normal families engaging in normal adventures whilst the mums, in this case, sisters, also delighted in each other. We happily prepared food for the multitudes and washed the results of the often muddy adventures. One niece said recently that the visits were fantastic and busy and the food just seemed to appear. She’s a mother now and will no doubt discover the true story behind the appearance of afternoon tea. She’ll learn how many sandwiches can be made from a loaf of bread and how far a tray of home baked biscuits will go.

  We had a caravan through these years and enjoyed towing it around the eastern states in the school holidays and parking it near the beach every January. Those touring holidays are well remembered by my sons and the funny thing is that they often mention obscure parks in country towns where they bowled well or hit a six. Spilling out of the car when we had a lunch break, they would play cricket until a meal was ready, and then they’d pile back into their seats and sleep until the next stop. I am much happier knowing they remember the games and fun rather than the Big Banana or the Dog on the Tuckerbox.

  Daniel was a very hard worker at school and seemed to look forward to these breaks. In term time he often suffered from headaches and moodiness and we thought this was due to the high standards he had set for himself in all areas of his life. He spent more time in his room away from the family. When he would join in with his brothers, he was often over-exube
rant but the boys would be delighted to get the old Daniel back.

  They will no doubt remember him running around the house with an onion bag on his head saying, “Buy a wok for your mother!” a spoof of an ad on television at that time. Looking back now with the benefit of hindsight, I can see the depression and confusion lifting for short bursts when he would become carefree again, especially when we were on holidays away from home.

  Through all these times, our priest commented that the mood changes were part of growing up. We were uneasy because the other boys were growing up too and did not suffer from the same anxieties and mood swings. They were just normal and on one hand, the detentions and unsatisfactory exam results were nothing out of the ordinary although irritating. On the other hand, Daniel did not like to fail anything, set himself lofty standards and never really gave us a reason to discipline him. That made it harder to negotiate responsibility and consequences with him when he began socialising in sometimes inappropriate ways.

  School was eventually over for Daniel and he seemed to enjoy that first summer of freedom. He looked forward to commencing university the following year and I recall that we hoped he would settle down to the new regime of study with the opportunity of self-regulation that didn’t really exist for him at school. We were concerned at the way Daniel was proceeding to experience his away-from-school freedom and spoke to him about moderation in drinking among other things. His mates seemed to be doing similar things so we tried not to worry too much, but we were very uneasy.

  In February 1995, just two days before Daniel was to start university, he had a fall while out drinking with some mates and finished up in hospital with a fractured skull. He underwent surgery for an extradural haematoma and was in a serious condition for a few days before he made a good recovery, from a medical point of view. Years later, Father James Fletcher could not recall going to the hospital’s intensive care ward and anointing Daniel while giving him the Blessing of the Sick. We remembered his visit and it was recorded in the medical notes.

  However, the disappointment of a late start at uni, the premature end to that season’s cricket for Daniel and the debilitating loss of fitness caused him to be severely depressed. As my boy started to struggle with his life for the next twelve months, we were inclined to blame the head injury but it became evident that there were other causes of his mood swings, poor concentration and general unhappiness.

  As an aside, Dominic told me recently that he had suffered from a broken finger at the time of Daniel’s accident and we were too upset to notice. Sorry Dom.

  7

  The next months were a mixture of good times and bad but we were becoming very anxious about Daniel’s inability to slow down and make good decisions about driving, drinking and general commitment to improving his lifestyle. He had a couple of worrying car accidents when he drove late at night after working long hours. The friction at home was mounting as he lived life close to the edge. As he continued to take risks, we couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to value his life. This was not the son I had known and I found it very hard to watch as he started to go off the rails. In September 1995, he came home from work and he had been drinking. At that time he was working for a neighbour who was a concreter and he seemed to enjoy the outdoor life. There were early starts, hard work and often early-afternoon finishes. I’m sure Daniel appreciated the easygoing mateship of his boss and the uncomplicated days and he certainly learned much about the trade.

  However, hard work like that is often accompanied by hard drinking and Daniel embraced that side of it as well. On that day in September when he arrived home, I was sick with pneumonia and sick of seeing him wobble up the paddock so I let him know of my displeasure. We had a short heated exchange and I went back to bed. I heard the back door slam and lay for a few minutes wondering where he was going.

  The anxious feeling that was becoming more prevalent returned and after a moment I decided to check on what he was doing. I walked up to our farm shed and saw Daniel standing on a trailer beside the tractor. He had strung up a noose and I screamed. He jumped.

  I grabbed his legs and wouldn’t let go as I supported his weight. I don’t know how long I stood there screaming but after a while he stopped kicking at me and started to cry. I heard the school bus pull up at our front gate and yelled for Bernard, eleven-year-old Bernard, to help. Bernard heard me screaming and rushed to the shed.

  He climbed up while I continued to support Daniel’s weight. He undid the rope from around his brother’s neck allowing Daniel to lower himself to the ground. He told me he was sorry and went down to the house with his little brother. I collapsed against the tractor wheel and sobbed hysterically.

  We gathered at the house and I rang John and he drove straight home rather than going to the meeting he had planned to attend. We realised that Daniel needed help and talked to him about seeking someone to talk to. We were at our wits’ end to know what to do – so guess who we rang!

  Father James Patrick Fletcher.

  The priest had been moved to a new parish at Branxton. I talked to him and told him what had happened and he asked if we would bring Daniel up to his presbytery at Branxton and he would talk to him. He explained that he couldn’t come to us as he had visitors but said that he would get rid of them. Although Daniel was still intoxicated, he said he would keep him all night so he could have a long talk to him and I asked Daniel if he would go. He agreed and so John drove him up. I rang our family doctor who expressed concern about the whole situation and he said he would come up and see us as soon as John arrived home from Branxton. This kind man talked to us for hours and said he would see Daniel on the Monday to try and work out what was going on with him.

  Daniel rang John the following morning and asked to be picked up. He was very upset and of course we put it down to his suicide attempt. He had an ugly bruise and welt encircling his neck and they were visible for quite a few weeks. The sinister cause of his obvious grief emerged years later.

  Daniel did see our doctor who referred him to a psych-iatrist, as he believed he was suffering from depression. He was advised to reduce his alcohol intake and we hoped that he might heed the advice of a non-family member.

  He continued to work for a concretor, did bar work at night and had a girlfriend. All normal enough activities for a young fellow but his heavy drinking was starting to affect him in the usual ways. He hated us to talk to him about it and there were many rows. We couldn’t understand why he was so angry and still wondered if there were residual issues from his head injury. I remember one night before Luke’s school formal when Daniel lashed out at us in anger and we went to the dinner, sad, frustrated and disappointed for Luke as it was supposed to be his big night.

  The New Year, 1996, had us hoping for peace and no more worry. We could clearly see the disparity between our two elder boys’ behaviour and we couldn’t explain it at all. Luke socialised with his friends often but there were no incidents and accidents and most of all no bad, angry behaviour.

  University started and Daniel began a new course. He kept trying, I believe, but it was obvious that something was wrong. He passed his subjects but decided to defer the second semester. He and his girlfriend split up and he increased his bar work and other part-time employment. He seemed to listen when we tried to talk to him but was reluctant to change his lifestyle.

  We begged him to consider his future and cease the binge drinking that so often caused his bad behaviour. But he didn’t moderate his drinking and decided to move out from home in the next few months. We helped him move, hoping that a new and independent lifestyle might encourage responsibility, but he was only gone a week or two when he had a drink driving charge. He lost his licence and we embarked on a ‘drive him to work’ regime. We thought with all his traumas, it was important to support him in holding down a job.

  By this time he was working for a landscaper and we thought the open air and hard work were ingredients for success. In hindsight, it wasn’t our responsibility
to get him to work and it might have encouraged him to escape the consequences of his bad behaviour further, but we were burdened by the memory of the suicide attempt and felt we had no choice. So drive we did. It was about an hour and a quarter round trip, if we didn’t strike heavy traffic.

  He came home for Christmas and never went back to the flat to live. In January, he packed up quickly, dumped everything on the bedroom floor and went off on a cricket tour with his father. Naive little mother that I was, I hummed happily as I washed and lovingly folded his clothes back into the cupboard of his childhood.

  Mother bear was happy!

  8

  Daniel had played well on the cricket tour and returned looking well and settled. However, there were further problems with his drinking and we worried about him quite a bit. It was a different sort of worry when he announced that he had met a lady who was very nice, but seven years older than him and who had two children. Daniel was twenty at the time and his problems were still evident.

  Initially we were horrified that he was taking on so much responsibility so young, but he seemed to be happy and settled into the domestic scene quickly. He continued to work and we gradually became used to the new little family. We helped them move to a different home and I tried not to be judgmental, as John and I laboured with boxes of toys and crockery while she strutted through the mess dressed in a short white dress and very high black sandals. I remember saying waspishly to John, “What’s the matter with shorts and joggers like us?”