Nobody's Fault by Derek Haines (rm book recommendations txt) 📕

whole new adventure in life. His cock was red raw, his balls ached, and he now knew exactly what the older guys had meant when they said they were fucked from the night before.
He woke up the next morning. Lying on the grass in front of the house where the party had been. Something smelled bad. He realised in his stupor that his head was lying in a patch of drying vomit. From the realisation that it was all through his hair, he concluded that it must have been of his own doing. No one else was around. It was Saturday morning. ‘Maybe about seven o’clock.’ he thought. He was as thirsty as hell. The garden hose proved a life saver. First a drink, then he sprayed out his hair and washed his face. The beer and vomit stains on his T-shirt would have to wait.
He felt like a bucket of shit. He had never felt so ill. But he also felt he was a man now. Steven had no role model or father figure to make this judgement. With no one to compare or look up to, his own judgement was the best he was going to get. He went home to sleep off his hangover.
He didn’t enjoy living with his mother. She was an alcoholic, and had become bitter and abusive. The occasional violent visits of his father had stopped, but this seemed to make her even worse. He went to visit his sisters. He hadn’t seen them in a long time. He only tracked them down by finding his mother’s small address book in her handbag while he was looking through it for some cash.
On his first visit, he discovered his eldest sister had moved out long ago. She had a kid to a guy from Darwin, and had followed him up there. His younger sister told him she had received a letter from her last Christmas, and that she had had another kid. She didn’t like Darwin all that much, but as neither of them had a job, they couldn’t afford to move. Steve listened, but wasn’t all that interested.
He met his niece and nephew for the first time. His sister, only two years older than him, was living by herself with her two young kids. She seemed to be doing alright for herself. The flat was clean and furnished nicely. Steve was impressed. ‘Looks like you’re doin’ alright.’ he muttered. She then went into what sounded like an advertising pitch for the Social Security Department. She explained in great detail to Steven how she got heaps of money being a single mother. She didn’t want either of the fathers staying with her because she was better off financially without them. ‘If either of ‘em lived with me I’d lose their maintenance payments.’ She knew the system inside out, and explained in detail to Steve how she got an extra fifteen dollars a week by not giving the youngest one its asthma medication. The visits to the hospital when ‘it’ had an attack meant she got the extra money because she had a kid with a disability. Anyone with a conscience or solitary ounce of compassion would have recoiled in horror at her explanation. Steve just yawned. She had a future planned for herself. ‘I plan to have another kid soon.’ she told Steven. Then proceeded to explain how much more money she would get when ‘it’ was born. ‘I might wait ‘til I’m eighteen though.’ she off handedly remarked.
‘What do you get?’ she asked Steve. ‘What?’ Steve replied. ‘Dole payments silly! How much do you get?’ she asked again. ‘I don’t.’ was Steve’s short reply. ‘Well you should. Are you just being lazy Steve? It’s easy to get. Would you like me to help you?’ she offered. ‘Ok.’ Was Steve’s short acceptance speech.
Within two weeks Steve was receiving unemployment benefits and a supplementary payment for drug or alcohol dependency. The extra came by carrying out his sister’s suggestion that he gargle and swallow a few mouthfuls of methylated spirits for a half an hour or so before he went to the dole office. He registered a false name, and used his sister’s address. She charged him one third of his payments for the use of her address. It didn’t seem a bad deal to him. He usually stayed over for a couple of days with his sister each fortnight when his cheque arrived in the mail. She didn’t mind because he needed to cash the cheque before she got her cut. And it was nice to have some family around.
At a little over sixteen, Steven had a girlfriend. She was nearly fifteen. Their relationship was not on the romantic basis of a Mills and Boon novel. It was based more on the fact that she let Steve fuck her, that it was decided that she was his girlfriend. He also found out that it was much more fun fucking a young girl than the old slut that had introduced him to this new pastime. Steve knew what pregnant meant. But he didn’t grasp its full gravity even on the day a few months after first fucking his girlfriend, she told him, ‘Steve, I’m up the duff’ She told Steve not to worry. She could get a benefit from Social Security for having a kid. The tone of her voice made it sound like she had won the lottery. Maybe she had. She didn’t seem at all worried. So nor was Steve. Steven had no idea what being a father meant. In time to come, he would find out.

V
Trucks

Tony Pilletto was a worker. He looked like a worker. He dressed in the blue singlet, blue shorts and pull on steel capped work boots uniform of a worker. He was a tall man, thickset, with only a hint of the typical workingman’s beer gut. His not developed from beer, but from his wife’s good cooking and his simple pleasure of a glass of wine with his dinner. His work as a driver, being seated for long periods also helped develop his stomach. His black hair, olive complexion, thick moustache and dark eyes signified immediately his Italian birth. He had worked all his life. From his mornings and evenings in his parent’s fish and chip shop while at school, through to his employment with Simpson’s Transport. He wasn’t driven by greed for money, it was just his acceptance that as a man he had to work to support his family. The only change Tony saw in himself from his father, was that he wanted his children to have a good education and not have to work eight hours a day on top of their studies. He was happily married to a nice Australian girl. His parents may have preferred he found an Italian girl, but the woman he chose was Catholic, and had made their Antonio happy. They were genuinely happy for him, and very proud grandparents.
Christmas 1983 was a happy time for Tony. He celebrated in the knowledge that he had two wonderful healthy and happy young children, and a loving wife. She had adjusted to being a member of an Italian family with its firm foundation in the church and family. Tony had adapted, and been accepted into his wife’s Australian family. 1983 was also a turning point in Tony’s work life. He had left Simpson’s Transport early in the year and invested his modest savings into a used Mack prime mover. He was now an owner driver. Simpson’s Transport had been well served by Tony for over ten years. It was only a technicality in him leaving their employ though, as he carried many loads for Simpson’s on his new rig as a sub-contractor. He was now his own boss. All he had to do now was make a success of it. So far he had. He had met all his payments on his truck, and was earning a little more than when he was employed by Simpson’s. The hours were longer now though. Hauls to and from the east coast meant he was away from home and family for days on end, but he knew his wife had two families for support, and he hoped for the day when he could buy another rig and start his own transport company. Tony knew that would be a little way off. For now though, he could not have been happier.
The day after Christmas, Boxing Day, Tony set off to Sydney with a load of irrigation pipes. He returned on schedule on New Years eve loaded with canned fruit, and an opportunity. New Year’s day 1984 was going to be a day of long discussion for Tony and his wife.
While in Sydney, Tony had been asked by two other owner drivers if he would consider joining them in forming a company. With three rigs they should be able to get work direct from customers instead of sub-contract loads from transport companies. They calculated they would earn nearly thirty per cent more than they were getting as sub-contractors, and if they pooled this extra profit into a joint company they owned they would be able to add another rig inside eighteen months. The only drawback Tony saw was the fact that this new company would be Sydney based. This was logical though, as he had known for some time that it was difficult to get loads from Perth. Consignments out of Perth were called backloads because the trucks had to get back to the east coast, and were charged at a very cheap rate. Little more than fuel cost. There was an abundance of work out of Sydney, and the Sydney to Melbourne run was the busiest in the country. He would have to move his family, and leave his extended family behind in Perth. He laid out the whole plan to his wife. She was not business minded but could see the benefits. She also clearly saw the upheaval it would cause to the children. They decided to think on it a little longer. ‘Surely they will wait a couple of weeks for your answer Tony.’ she authoritatively said. Tony agreed. He also discussed the idea with his father before leaving on his next haul. He trusted his father’s business sense. His father’s only advice after discussing all the financial pros and cons was to say, ‘Antonio, take your opportunities when you see them. Take risks when you can manage them, and don’t be afraid of your own judgement. It has served you well so far.’
Tony left for a haul to Port Headland, over one thousand miles north of Perth. He used the long hours to consider his decision from every point of view that he could think of. During his absence his wife did the same. Her thoughts were more of family and children than Tony, but by the time he had returned they both knew, before he opened the back door of the house, that the decision had been made. There were some minor points Tony had yet to work out, but in the basic facts they agreed. The family would move. Tony called his prospective partners the next morning to arrange a meeting with them on his next haul to Sydney in a fortnight. He would stay a few extra days to clarify any outstanding issues.
Tony met his prospective partners at a Joe’s Truck Stop near the Crossroads intersection of the Hume Highway, just outside Sydney. It was a favourite stop for all the Sydney-Melbourne drivers. It was ideally located to wait for peak hour traffic to subside, which in Sydney is more like hours and hours. 6a.m. to 10a.m. in the mornings and 3.00p.m. to 7.00p.m. in the evenings is bumper to bumper crawling chaos on Sydney’s narrow winding matrix of ill designed roads. Not a fun drive for a