Misfit United

By Frankie Vanhen

Fred is an awkward teenager, who lives a largely invisible life. Through the various hardships in his life, Fred has learned to not expect much from those around him, least of all his neighbors or school peers who constantly torment him. A chance encounter with Pete, an older teenager living rough in local bushland, leads Fred on a crusade to help his new friend get back on his feet - even if there is a risk of him getting on the wrong side of the law. Fred's misdemeanors bring him into contact with the very neighbors who he knew so little about but who he quickly realizes are equally lonely and disconnected and who embrace the chance of new contact, friendship, and community connection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frankie Vanhen
• Release date: Aug 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223374749

Frankie Vanhen

An aspiring author who endeavors to shine a light on the vulnerabilities that make us human. Writes to make sense of the everyday issues that inflict many of us and tries to leave readers with a sense of hope and possibility for a better life and a better world.

Book preview

Chapter 1: Introduction

Fred! You up yet! "I’m going, I want you up and your jobs done please before you leave for school. The dishes haven’t been done from last night! Come on, let’s get cracking!’ Fred was awake, lying in his bed, thinking of the day ahead with a degree of dread. From the darkness of his room – it had just gone 6am on a chilly morning, Fred obediently replied to his mum, ‘Alright, coming’. Fred’s sleeping and morning routine, generally entailed him waking particularly early. It was usual for him to be stirring and for his mind to be running active, hours before his mum routinely and diligently sought to wake him. With the whites of his eyes often bloodshot and with the darkened rings that appeared beneath them, his looks belied his true age. He had just turned 15. Fred Deeney lived alone with his mum Carol Deeney, in the outer west Brisbane suburb of Padstow Heights. Like most suburbs on the fringes of capital cities, Padstow Heights, which was about 17 kilometres from the CBD, as the crow flies, was unremarkable. It was common for people who lived outside of the suburb to have no inclination as to where it was located or even which direction it was in. The suburb had traditionally been renowned for being gritty and working class, made up mainly of families and lower to middle income earners. It was the affordable rental properties that first drew Carol Deeney to the suburb, with Fred and her having rented in the suburb and residing in the same rental property for a little over three years now. Much had changed, and rapidly, during their time in Padstow Heights. Government investment in transport and civic services, and housing affordability had led to a spike in the suburb’s popularity. With this came apparent and significant diversity in cultural groups and increasing disparity in wealth. The trusty and aging masses of Toyota and Mazda cars, which once owned, skidded, and swarmed around the local streets and which served as a figurative tattoo of Padstow Heights’ working class pride, were now lost amongst the flashy, shiny euro makes, with Audis and BMWs abound. The suburb’s burgeoning housing, traffic and people laid to rest the suburb’s once sleepy and docile image, with the suburb’s renewed identity and its re-defined sense of community, still lagging. Carol and Fred - a single parent and sole income household, had become what you’d call collateral members of their community. Even before the rapid changes to the fabric of their suburb, they were both largely hidden and disconnected from those around them. There weren’t active in their community and lived a simple and private life, borne out of their personal hardships and Carol’s determination to protect her son from any further problems. Their sense of isolation had further deteriorated as the suburb grew larger and more popular and as the impersonal day-to-day traits of modern society took hold of Padstow Heights. Fred often found himself watching his neighbours and those within his community, scurrying about their lives in complete ignorance of those around them. Fred had much to learn in life but even with his limited years, it was undeniable that the paralysis of loneliness and despair was gripping those within the world he lived. This mindset was one that Fred fought vigorously to slay, as to allow it to seep throughout his psyche would surely spell the end of any hope he had for a future. A future where he could live without worry or fear, or to be consumed with a sense of being inconsequential. It was a hope that he held not just for himself but those he’d see scurrying aimlessly every day around him, a hope for an awakening and kinship of togetherness. ‘Love you darling. Don’t be late to school and I will see you after work. I have taken out some mince for dinner.’ And with these parting words, Carol left for work. Fred dutifully got up and did the dishes, stacking the wet plates and cutlery in the drying rack, before getting changed into his school uniform. Fred attended Padstow State High School, where he was in year 9. He didn’t much like the constraints of school and the morning ritual of dread that he encountered in getting to school, was testament to the discomfort and anxiety that school caused him. While he was an okay student, he didn’t really excel in any subject and had become an indiscriminate face in a school population of close to 2000 students. As a means of survival and to lessen the distress that school caused him, he endeavoured to become invisible...to become a phantom. His social awkwardness with peers and teachers and his hankering for his own company, whether it be in the confines of the library during class breaks or aimless wandering of the school grounds,

added to his enigmatic reputation. Rather than bring anonymity it had unfortunately brought unwanted attention, misguided retribution, and unkindness from his peers. There had been varying incidents which had triggered reports by the school, and which had led them to meet with Fred’s mum, to further discuss. These concerns including bullying and intimidation by other students towards Fred, while taken seriously, generally couldn’t be acted upon. There was often too little information and evidence and always an unwillingness from Fred to provide any further details or information to shed further light on what had occurred. Fred had become increasingly skilled at concealing incidents at school, and with the absence of any further school-generated reports, his mum had falsely assumed that he was no longer having any problems. She certainly had no appreciation of the constant stress and anxiety that school caused her son. Fred knew the hardship that his mum had experienced in life and the everyday sacrifices that she made for him as a single parent. There was no way that he was going to bring her any unnecessary pain or distress...it was easier to stay silent and keep school and peer problems to himself. He had developed strategies to deal with this and he had no intention in changing things. Subsequently because of Fred’s efforts to remain incognito and to avoid incidents or trouble, he had developed a reputation amongst the school and his teachers as ‘not working to his full potential and showing a lack of interest and the necessary commitment to his work’. BANG. Fred pulled the front door shut behind him as he left home for school. Fred’s chest fastened with breath, and he physically and mentally steeled himself for another day.

Chapter 2 – The School Run

Fred walked to and from school each day, the thought of which was enough to bring a cold sweat to his brow. Padstow State High School was not all that far away from his home. He’d never measured exactly how far, but maybe 3 or 4 kilometres. The journey though seemed so much longer and like the myriad of veins running through the human body, Padstow High students could be seen everywhere on any given school day. On bikes, in groups – big and small, in cars and buses, walking and running. Fred felt the odd one out as he walked to school alone. His uncomfortableness in walking alone was compounded by his awkwardness and uncertainty in trying to keep enough distance or pass the various groups of students without drawing unwanted attention. The more he sought to be inconspicuous though, the more apparent it became that he was a loner. Fred’s immediate neighbourhood had a sprinkling of kids, of differing ages and year levels, that attended Padstow High. Fred of course knew these kids by face but didn’t know of them by name and had had little social interaction with any of them. Thus, it had never been an option or an idea for him to seek to join them on their walk to or from school. In leaving his yard and the safety of his home – a lowest brick and tile house that his mum had taken a lease out on to coincide with Fred starting high school, Fred became hypervigilant. Like a computer game, Fred applied a set of rules and had corresponding milestones and rewards, to signal a successful school-run and to avoid negative peer interactions. The first checkpoint of ‘Mission – Get to School’, was number 1 Hirst Street. Hirst Street was at the bottom of Katanning Court which Fred lived on. It was the entry and exit point into his pocketed estate, with there being a total of four Courts running off Hirst Street. Number 1 Hirst Street was still within the friendly zone for Fred but was at the frontier to the main road and Fred’s exposure to a flood of students who walked and rode on the main, concreted footpath to school. Turning left from Hirst Street, the school was a straightish walk, out along Marshal Road. Getting to 1 Hirst Street and thinking of it as a bastion and a final refuge of some sought, was ironic. Despite his tenseness and nervousness, Fred’s face would lighten, and a slight smile would crease across his face when he thought about who lived at the property. Although Fred didn’t know the name of the person who lived there, the image that he and all the neighbours had of this person was that of a dishevelled, obese, agitated, and cranky older man. Loud music, screaming, and a dilapidated car which screeched in and out of the property, where just some of the things seen or heard coming from the house. Fred didn’t know what this man did but like most in the neighbourhood kept his distance out of fear that he would likely face threats to his life or limbs or worse still, be embroiled in some form of illegal activities – drugs, human trafficking!!! Fred thought.... if only true, wouldn’t that be a story for the local paper!!!! After leaving the relative safety of the first checkpoint, Fred had the formidable task of making it to Checkpoint Two, a bus stop at the mid-way point to school, just past an old corner shop. The shop was popular with students who’d stop on the way to school and buy the obligatory sweets and drinks and sit in groups chatting, laughing, and getting up to differing levels of silliness. Fred had often been the brunt of these varying groups’ silly antics. As he was soon to find out, today was going to be one of those occasions where he would again be singled out. As he neared the shop, he was initially comforted to see that there was only a sprinkling of kids out the front of the shop and none that he recognised as being previous offenders of taunts and torment against him. That was until a group of well-known culprits from his same year level, spilled from the shop, with soft drinks in hands and amidst a barrage of swearing, laughing, and pushing of one another. After what seemed like a lifetime, but which was just seconds inflated by Fred’s all- consuming feelings of fear and dread...the group of boys spied Fred and quickly turned their attention to tormenting and harassing him. He was surrounded by the group of five boys, who pushed and teased him and who refused Fred’s pleas to pass without trouble. After much skirmishing, Fred was finally able to break free from the group and quickly turned his mind to Checkpoint Three – the school’s side gate entrance. The collar of his shirt had been ripped, his hair matted from coke which had been poured over his head by one of the offending boys, and the zipper on his bag had been broken. Fred cleaned himself as best as he could before going into class and acting as if nothing had happened. He pondered the mission and recognised that it had been an overwhelming failure and one that had begun to become an all too familiar occurrence. This was the fifth time in the last fortnight that he had experienced something similar. He realised that he needed to do something to avoid this from continuing to happen. His mind subsequently went into overdrive as he planned and plotted alternative, safer options to get home that day. 

Chapter 3 – Don’t Go into the Bushland

As the school bell angrily rang, signalling the end of the day, Fred readied to make the return walk home. However, unlike his usual routine, which was to literally run to be one