Strange Times - Part 5: The Disappearance of Phil Collins

[1985]

It was a rainy Saturday and I had settled on the back veranda with a book to read – The Trial – when Emma burst into the backyard, wielding a baseball bat. She looked nervous and out of breath.

‘Emma?’ I called out to her.

‘Lucy, it’s gone!’ A chill went through me. I knew the answer but I asked the question anyway.

‘What’s gone?’

‘The cassette. Big Jeffrey took it last night and he didn’t pass it onto David. Said he’s going to destroy it’ and I felt a freaky feeling, starting deep in my navel.

I grabbed the baseball next to my sports bag. We sprinted through the rain to her shitty car. She hadn’t gone home after the game; we were still wearing those ridiculous sexist baseball outfits with the yellow hotpants, sports socks and matching tops.

‘So what happens now?’ I asked, picking at lint on my top nervously as the car sped through the streets, well over the speed limit.

‘They’ve called a meeting, we’ll figure out how to get it back’

‘What if he destroys the tape before we can get it back?’ I asked ‘What if he breaks it? What the fuck are we going to listen to then?!’

‘Lucy, relax!’ Emma tried to calm me down as she drifted through a sharp turn, tires squealing ‘We’ll get that tape back, maybe even hurt Big Jeffrey a little’ The car jumped over a bump in the road 'You just can't trust boys to do the right thing...'

In Haverbrook, we were deprived of music; we didn’t have a radio station since the radio tower had been blown up a year before by some dumb ass guy, we were barely getting any television anymore and no shop sold cassettes or vinyl. No one’s parents owned any music; which didn’t make any fucking sense.

But the town had one album of music that teenagers could listen to: Phil Collins seminal 1985 album, No Jacket Required. All of us could only listen to this single cassette and it meant none of us could go very far. Taking the sole bit of music away from Haverbrook was too great a crime to comprehend, there were no other places to buy CDs for hundreds of miles, it was this or nothing else.

‘I’m going to beat Big Jeff’s ass’ I muttered as we sped through the streets.

We pulled up in the gravel carpark at Swallow’s Creek, joining all the other cars in the haphazard mess. Everyone was down at the gazebo near the creek so we joined the crowd of teenagers. Muttering and worried looks passed between us all as Stephen and Hugh took the steps of the gazebo with a boombox in hands.

Hugh stood up on a bench and addressed the crowd below.

‘Thank you all for coming. We’re keeping this short…so uh, for those who don’t know, Big Jeffrey collected the cassette from Linda last night, as per the roster said he would. He had it last night and was due to give it over to David this afternoon, who needed it to drown out the concert while he studied’ I shuddered at that, all the parents were watching the Live Aid concert on TV at the moment.

Stephen took over now. ‘Big Jeffrey didn’t meet up with David today, but he called David’s house phone and said…quoting here “I’m taking that stupid fucking album and smashing it, I’m going to free us all’’’ a gasp went up from the crowd from a girl and someone – sounded like Tim, yelled something about him being a motherfucker. Hugh motioned for quiet and Stephen continued.

‘Now, we all know what needs to be done. We need to get that tape back, at any cost. I know some of you might have plans to study for the test on Monday, or even plans for tonight, but we need that music back. What kind of a town would this be if future generations couldn’t listen to ‘Sussudio’? Tom, would you deny your younger brother the honour, no, the privilege of hearing ‘Don’t Lose My Number’? And Emma, would you let Big Jeffrey stop you from hearing the great album closer of ‘Take Me Home’, the very song that has seen so many of us home in our own cars?’

The crowd was restless now, hungry for blood. Johnny and Bruce yelled something about killing Big Jeffrey but Hugh stood up now and motioned for quiet.

‘We CAN’T kill Big Jeffrey, if the parents find out about this, who knows what happens to the tape? That being said, don’t be afraid to rough him up a bit. Groups of five please, and we meet back here at midnight. Let’s bring back Phil Collins guys!’

With the rule of five to a car, Emma and I hung back, grabbing our dedicated girl squad of Sophie and Lauren to come with us. We looked around for someone else to come with us, maybe another member from the baseball team. Ellen was going with her boyfriend, Amy was going with her older brother, we kicked our feet in the gravel as the crowd filed out for the manhunt. A group of boys went past with rifles slung over their backs.

‘Nice outfits girls!’ one whistled and Emma stuck him the finger. The boys made an ‘ooohh’ noise and reacted with mock hurt.

‘God I hate wearing this shit’ I said, swinging the bat hard. I did it a few more times, imagining Big Jeffrey’s head sailing off into a home run. Crowd goes wild, Phil Collins playing through the stadium.

Eventually we had to have Borry come along with us. Borry was actually born as Barry, but due to a fuck up in the birth certificate filing, it had come out as Borry. He was nice enough, a real nerd, hung around with Harry and Brendan at school in the Film Club but he struck me as pretty shitty in a manhunt.

Emma drove the car slowly, Sophie and Lauren sitting on the back doors acting as lookouts as we cruised the streets, keeping our eyes peeled. Borry sat middle of the back seat, looking nervous.

‘Borry, what were you doing at the gazebo? You don’t strike me as someone who listens to Phil Collins…or music’ said Emma, trying to make small talk.

‘Well, I listen to the tape when I write stuff…for the school magazine and stuff…I don’t want to see the tape gone’ Borry stammered out.

As we covered the town, we passed other cars doing similar things, exchanging information. Someone said they had seen Big Jeffrey driving west out of town while others said he was holed up in the school.

‘Put some music on’ said Sophie

‘We can’t, this why we’re in the car, remember?’ replied Lauren and Sophie groaned

‘Fuck, I wouldn’t have minded a listen’ said Sophie.

We drove slowly past the primary school, the tall belltower black against a grey sky before we came to a stop at the back cricket nets.

‘There’s something over there…’ Lauren said…pointing to our right.

We saw some bushes rustling, moving slightly, more than the breeze could move it.

Sophie hopped out of the idling car, and tried to find what was doing it, bat in hand as she jumped the waist high chain-link fence. We all watched eagerly, hoping it could be Big Jeffrey, with the Phil Collins tape in his possession. I could almost hear the opening notes to ‘Sussudio’, the reassuring voice of Philly C as he sung about all manner of things. The car rumbled in the empty street, I rubbed my hand along the metal bat and…

‘It’s nothing, just a bunch of steam from a sewer!’ and we all sighed. So close.

We continued on, deciding to begin working the town in a system; north to south, east to west, before finally circling back around.

Borry spoke up ‘What if he’s not even in town? He called David right? He could have called from a payphone out of town…’ and I had to admit, he did have a point. If Big Jeffrey had taken the cassette and gone, we were screwed.

‘Well…’ I said ‘Big Jeffrey doesn’t drive from what I hear, we got people on all four roads heading out of town’ I put my feet on the dash and clicked the metal bat with my nails.

Borry stared at the bat. ‘I didn’t think we had a baseball team in Haverbrook’

‘Well we do, and if you’re going to ride in this car Borry, you’re signing the petition to change the uniforms’ and I passed back the clipboard with the petitions

‘What’s wrong with the uniforms?’ he asked as he signed it. Sophie snatched it off him and put it in the seat pocket.

‘They’re utterly misogynist? Duh, fucking baseball in hot pants and these tight yellow shirts? You can tell a male designed a uniform. You’re supposed to play baseball in pants anyway, to reduce burns from the dirt. We gain nothing from this, no mobility, it's some excuse to ogle young girls’ Sophie stated, using her well-worn speech.

‘It’s just another way to discourage girls from taking a stand’ I replied.

‘Well, I thought you guys were wearing costumes’ he admitted sheepishly and I laughed at that, nodding.

‘Costumes, see Emma? We look like we’re from a fucking movie’

Emma laughed ‘We had to petition the school to let us have a baseball team and even then, we had to make our own practice pitch. We don’t have much of a sports field, we made our own baseball diamond with a bunch of dirt and hard work. See how the boys like it when we can play our own sports and don’t just have to watch them’

Borry nodded and stared out the window. I fidgeted nervously in the front seat. Where the hell was the tape?

The streets were deserted, rain falling lightly in a mist. All the parents were inside, getting ready to watch that Live Aid concert from Sydney, the one with all the cringe-worthy musicians singing to help some country. They should do a concert to get us another piece of music. I was stressed out, on edge, tapping my nails against the metal baseball bat.

‘Where the fuck could that freako be?’ said Emma as she pulled into Bass Strait Road

On Bass Strait Road, a posse of boys were walking up the middle of it, rifles in hand as they searched high and low. On Yarram Road, by the abandoned trailer park, a group had broken open the gates and were searching the wrecked cars and caravans. By Swallow’s Creek, young pre-teens armed with knives searched their way through the snake infested undergrowth. And by the construction site next to IGA, we searched through the bricks and dust. The construction site was a mystery to all the kids: what were they building here anyway?

We sat in the IGA carpark, Borry trying to pull the ring off his can of New Coke before I snatched it off him, using my nails to open it with ease.

‘Thanks…’

‘Please don’t mention it’ I sighed, watching Sophie and Emma fighting with their bats in the deserted car park.

‘So Borry, seriously, if you don’t want to help out…you could go home and play video games or something’

He shook his head ‘I need that tape at home. I was next to have it after David. This affects me just as much as you’

Lauren walked back from the IGA, bright purple can of drink in her hand. She sighed ‘He wasn’t in there either. Let’s think about it, where could he have gone? There’s the stormwater drains – but it’s been raining last three days so I don’t think he could be down there. He wasn’t up at the oval…’

The rain began to fall again, lightly, in waves of rainbow coloured faint dots.

‘Fuck, I’m tired’ Borry sighed, taking a sip of Coke. I snapped hearing that

‘You're tired, is that my problem or your problem? You’re supposed to be a man now, this ain't a movie! This is Phil Collins we’re talking about, this is the only bit of music we have in this town and it’s all we’ve got for us. And we can’t just say we’re tired and give the fuck up!’

‘Don’t get angry at him Lucy’ Lauren said and I threw the bat on the ground with a loud clank and everyone stared at me.

‘Then where the fuck is Jeff huh? Where the fuck is he and where the FUCK is our Phil Collins cassette? I have to go Yarram next week, what am I going to do, drive in silence? What about our final year or the rest of our lives?! We’ve checked all over town…well then where the fuck is he?’

Borry coughed and spoke up

‘I- uh…I know this might be stupid, but has anyone checked his house?’ and we all stood there in silence.

Our car pulled up at the end of his street, a street I recognized from going to baseball practice. His house was just up the road, and we didn’t want to draw attention by parking outside it. As we piled out of the car, I motioned to Borry around to the back of the car. I opened the boot and we stared inside.

‘I want you to be at the back gate or fence, in case he makes a run for it. When you see him, you use this.’ And I handed it to him. Borry nodded nervously

‘You sure?’ he asked and I stayed silent ‘Well…okay. Thanks’

‘And…sorry about before Borry’ and he smiled

‘It’s fine, this is serious, it’s Phil Collins'

Me and the girls sauntered up the middle of the deserted road, bats in hand as we approached the house. He was here, something in me felt it, something in the air and deep in my gut. I swung the bat hard in practice of cracking his dumb skull open. Su-su-sudio.

His mum answered the door ‘Yes?’

‘Hi, is Jeff home? We’re friends from school’ I said and she glanced at us holding the bats.

‘JEFF? Friends from school love!’

We stood in the doorway…waiting…footsteps coming closer…

Jeff came out of a hallway with the cassette in his hand, turned to see us standing in the doorway and stared for a second. No one moved and then he smacked his lips and said:

‘Oh’ and then he bolted down the hallway towards the back of the house.

‘GO! GET HIM!’ yelled Emma and we ran through the house, floorboards thumping as we slammed through the black screen door, flying open on rusty hinges. The backyard blurred past, a Hills Hoist, a blue clamshell paddling pool, as Jeffrey burst through the back gate and into a field.

Borry wasn’t there at the gate.

‘WHAT THE FUCK?’ I screamed as we chased after Jeffrey. We needed that cassette.

We pelted after him, bats in our hands, legs pumping as we chased him across the undergrowth, our breath hot in the cold rainy mist.

I realised what we were running towards in my anger. He was heading for the baseball diamond; his house overlooked it from the road. As the ground levelled out and we sprinted across the dusty baseball grounds, Jeffrey was gaining distance.

Where had Borry been?

All of a sudden there came a noise like a huge umbrella being opened and Jeffrey fell to the ground, tangled in a net. Borry stuck his head over the edge of the dugout, rifle in hand.

Jeffrey was trying to get the net off when Emma ran up and smacked the bat hard across his shins. A rumble as Sophie brought the car down onto the baseball diamond and we stood there, surrounding Jeff with the rumble of the motor the only noise as the rain finally began to fall.

We had found him.

‘WHERE’S THE TAPE JEFF?’ and I brought the bat down on his shoulder. He cried out. He didn’t say anything so Emma poked him with her bat. He groaned.

‘WHERE’S THE PHIL COLLINS TAPE JEFF?’ screamed Lauren and hit the bat hard against his stomach, winding him.

‘GIVE US THE TAPE JEFF!’ I yelled and grabbed the net to bring his face close to mine and I looked into his eyes ‘Where’s the tape Jeff? Where’s the Phil Collins tape, where’s No Jacket Required?! I swear to god, if you’ve done anything to it, I’ll make sure there’s not enough left of you to spread on toast you little fuck’

‘Guys…’ Borry spoke up as he approached us and motioned with his head. Jeffrey was panting and wheezing, pointing to a brown splodge in the mud. Lauren picked it up and cleaned the muck off it.

It was the cassette cover; Phil Collin’s face was cracked down the middle.

‘I…I…had to break it, free us…all’ Jeffrey wheezed and coughed, trying to suck in air ‘It’s a curse…while the tape exists, we can’t have…any other music’

The tape fell apart in a string of metallic black ribbon and cracked plastic. We all stared at each other and then back at him. The tape was broken, the single piece of music from our town. Had he broken it or had it broken during the chase?

‘He’s fucking lying about it obviously’ said Sophie and Lauren nodded. I stared around in the air.

‘What if he isn’t?’ I asked, letting the bat fall slack in my hands. Emma shrugged.

‘If he isn’t, he needs proof. Do you have any proof Jeff?’ She asked at the tangled muddy mess. He groaned. She shrugged ‘Nothing then. Lauren get him up’

Borry wrung his hands nervously. ‘But, guys, we’re not supposed to kill him’

‘Shut the fuck up Borry, you don’t even have a real name’ said Sophie, spinning the bat in the air and grabbing the handle as it spun back down. ‘Prop him up, I’ll put the next one across his balls’ and while Jeffrey was pulled to his feet, the bat pulled back to go across his balls. I needed to say something to stop this, this was all too much now.

All of a sudden, the car radio burst into life, music blaring from the open car..

‘I couldn’t believe our love would last…it’s coming on stronger, coming on so much faster…Get used to it…cause I’ll be around’

We all stared at each other again. I dropped the bat and ran over to the car. The radio was working now, music blaring out, some electronic keyboard with a guy singing over it. It was a voice singing, distinctly not Phil Collins. Borry was at the other door, looking in.

‘Did he actually do it?’ he asked and I shook my head in confusion. The radio was playing music. Real music, no Phil Collins. I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

‘I don’t know but this is…’ We both knew what I meant.

On the Monday, a HMV opened in the construction site next to IGA, full of music on vinyl, cassette and even on CD. A strange coincidence and a half. All of us marvelled at these bands we’d never heard of: Duran Duran, Talking Heads, The Police, Human League. For the next two weeks, no teenager had any pocket money but a room full of music.

Big Jeffrey became a sort of town hero, we ended up throwing him a party to apologise for everything. All of us crowded into his backyard, drinking and danced to all our new party songs like KC and the Sunshine Band, Prince and David Bowie.

‘Sorry about that Jeffrey’ I said to him, handing him a cassette of INXS’s album ‘The Swing’

‘It’s okay, I should have told everyone what I was planning on doing’ he shrugged and smiled ‘I could tell you didn’t want to kill me, Sophie and Lauren though…’

‘Yeah…they get a bit like that. Hey, how did you know to destroy the tape?’

As he went to speak, Stephen and Hugh brought out the cake and the cheers went up; I never found out how he knew what to do. As the party folded up, Emma, Sophie, Lauren and me walked back to the car. Borry was chatting with someone, shaking hands.

‘Borry, you want a lift?’ I yelled out and he ran across to the car.

As we drove through the night streets, Emma slipped in a cassette and the stereo thudded into life. Sophie clapped her hands. The synth notes came in loud and clear and the opening guitar jangles rang clear. Emma thumped her hands on the wheel, I tapped my nails against the windows and Borry did a drum beat on his knees. We were free, we were young, we had music, that was enough, and as we drove home, the radio sung out one name:

Su-su-sudio.

– Lucy (48 years old)

#fiction #mystery #comedy #bizarre #Haverbrook #StrangeTimes #humour #philcollins #nojacketrequired #australia #music