Travesty
First published as I Taught God to Gamble 2013 by Hayden Bradford
This edition published 2014
Copyright © Hayden Bradford 2014
Cover image composite of Shutterstock images
Cover art by Chameleon Print Design
The right of Hayden Bradford to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN 9781742984391 (eBook)
Digital distribution by Ebook Alchemy
Conversion by Winking Billy
For Jackie, Brianna and Liam none are greater
DISCLAIMER
This book is fiction. It came from the place all fiction comes from – the imagination. In the case of this story, the imagination used was mine.
Any resemblance of any character in this story to any person, living or dead, nearly living or nearly dead, partly living or partly dead, is purely coincidental. Likewise, the events described in this book never happened.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I was born in Townsville, North Queensland, Australia. Due my father’s employment, I spent most of my childhood as a Post Office nomad, and therefore I grew up in different places within Australia. We also lived in Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea for a few years. I will be forever grateful for those experiences. Today, I live in Melbourne, Australia with my wife and our two children.
If I had a resume, it would read that I’m an ex-stockman, ex-military man, and ex-corporate man. Too, I’m grateful for those experiences. I have a Bachelor’s Degree, a couple of Graduate Diplomas, and a Master’s Degree. I’m not sure why, as what I learned in academia land has been of little use to me. My real lessons have been learned outside of educational institutions. These lessons have come from life herself. In the main, I’ve found her to be unforgiving, intolerant, unrelenting, uncompromising, and mostly never fair. I’ve had no better teacher.
I’ve learnt that my life came to me with no certainties or guarantees. I can only play the cards I’m dealt. Sometimes I play well, sometimes I play badly, and sometimes ‘shit happens’. When it does, I have to carry on. No regrets. I know of no other way to live.
All in all, my life is good; not as good as some, but better than others. I’m doing OK.
A NOTE TO THE READER
This story was originally published in 2013 in a book titled I Taught God to Gamble. I used the pen name Joshua Hosea. In 2014 I decided to republish the story as I had more laughs to add, and republishing gave me the opportunity to further polish the story. I also changed the title of the book and this time I’ve published the book under my real name.
The book is fiction. It came from the place all good stories come from – the imagination. In the case of this story, the imagination used was mine.
Any resemblance of any character in this story to any person, living or dead, nearly living or nearly dead, partly living or partly dead, is purely coincidental. Likewise, the events described in this book, they never happened. Although, I’d like to think there is a bit of the Profit T in all of us. He’s a fun guy.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I am told by those far more qualified than me in the art of writing, that every writer requires help. I required much help. I greatly appreciate the assistance that came my way from the following people.
My wife Jackie was instrumental in me finishing this book. Jackie not only provided me the support and encouragement I needed when I became frustrated with my brain not working at times, and hence frustrated with this project, but she also laboured through a manuscript, or two, three, four, maybe ten. She, and she alone, has travelled the journey with me. She knows it well, better than me, better than anyone. As I don’t have enough words to adequately describe my love for her, I’ll simply say, ‘Somewhere, somehow, somebody’s God was smiling on me when we met.’
Our two children Brianna and Liam continually provide me with the excuse I need for my childish escapes from adulthood. With them I can create mayhem; without them I am a lesser man. My children also give me the ability to view the world through their eyes, the eyes of kids. I enjoy their world; it’s less complicated than mine. In their world there is no killing, no suffering, no pain – only happiness, fun, and simplicity. I like their world better than mine. To my children, many thanks indeed.
My publishers at Dennis Jones & Associates (www.dennisjones.com.au), thank you for your kind advice. I’ve learned more from you guys than from any of the big publishing houses. The big publishing houses don’t seem to like us new authors. It must have been something we said.
Luke Harris at Working Type Studio www.workingtype.com.au, thank you for the book cover and manuscript layout. Great work, mate.
My editor Ormé Harris – thank you, thank you and thank you. You are simply the best.
There are many others I must also thank for helping me with this book. Some I know, some I don’t. Thanks to my wonderful friends and family who have stayed with me after my diagnosis. Too, thanks for leaving a touch of kindness, a smile, for having a chat on the phone, sharing a meal, a cold beer, a laugh, a hospital visit. I very much appreciate your efforts and your friendship. From you and from those I don’t know, I may have stolen a few words, a lingering phase, a gesture or an attitude, a description, a colour, a mannerism and then mixed them together with other stolen bits and pieces, and turned it all into a character, an event, a happening, a something.
To Dr Praba Ratnarajah, Dr David Smith, and Dr Tom Eimany, thank you for giving me back my life. I also thank the other medical specialists and hospital staff who gave me their time, knowledge, skill, and expertise. I know it’s all in a day’s work for you people, but for me – it was a big deal.
Finally, I must thank my imagination. An imagination shaped in my childhood while I was taking the quizzical journey from there to teenager, to adult. An imagination which still takes me to places I’ve never been, to see things I’ve never seen, to do things I’ve never done, and to meet people I’ve never met. My imagination is fun, my imagination is good, and fun is good. There should be more good fun.
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At birth, Mother called me Travesty. Travesty, a name meaning disaster. I could have given me a name which stood for something like great warrior, defender of the faith, or beautiful boy. She could have named me after somebody famous, but no, she called me Travesty. To Mother, I was a disaster. This was the world I entered. But, I should not have entered. Between you and me and the gatepost, I wasn’t meant to arrive. I was an accident. A disastrous accident, a travesty.
Mother had her favourite people. Mind you, she changed them regularly. Her favourites were as changeable as the wind. I never reached the lofty heights of favouritism with Mother; I never reached any level of anything with her. I had set myself a low standard and failed to achieve it. I was the ‘black