鹿

我有一個反覆出現的夢，讓我無法入睡。

它圍繞著這個年輕的維多利亞州警察，在一個早晨，他在議會大廈的台階上對我說話。他和另一個年長的警官在一起，但那個人只是聽著，因為這個年輕的警官說。

"聽著，我和你在一起。我們很多人都是。但我能做什麼？這是一份工作，外面有成千上萬的人願意抓住機會去做我的工作，所以如果我辭職就沒有意義了。" 

然後我們談到了第一次大的抗議活動和現在著名的小提琴家心碎的國歌版本。

"它讓我哭了，"他說。 "而那首國歌從來沒有讓我哭過。"

國歌從未讓任何人哭過，我們都笑了。事實上，它是如此無聊，我們中的大多數人甚至從未費心去學習第二節。

然後我感謝他，作為維省的警察的代表，自從在Acland街的野餐抗議活動以來，我們沒有看到他們的成員在有任何暴力行為。

我還告訴他，最近，一位警官在這些台階上遇到了一些活動者，對他們說，他很高興這裡有抗議者，因為這就是民主的運作方式。但實際上這不是真的，我告訴這位年輕的警官，由於戴著口罩，我只能看到他不安的眼神。我認為輕鬆的抗議者更多的表明民主正在發揮作用，因為對自由社會的真正考驗是守法公民不懼怕自己的警察部隊。更重要的是在這樣的社會裡，警察被悄悄地看作是他們中的大多數，每天都是體面的英雄。

他對此點了點頭。他們倆都點了頭。

問題是，在他離開後，我對自己說，幾天後，如果這個法案通過了，那麼在現在的省長的決定下，將不會有進一步的抗議活動。不僅如此，這些官員中的許多人將有新的職責，例如警察到人們的住處，進入他們的住處，不需要搜查令，把人拖出來，遠離他們的家人、朋友和寵物，然後，在把他們放在任何車輛的後面，把他們送到拘留中心，他們將在那裡停留，不經審判，自費長達兩年的時間。如果省長認為有必要，時間會更長。

在這段時間裡，他們將不允許與家人或朋友有任何交流，而且在任何時候，在沒有警告的情況下，他們可能會被送到其他地方。他們唯一的權利，也就是法案中規定的權利，就是允許他們每天給監獄長寫一封信，希望監獄長能被打動，將信轉交給他們。

現在，常識和歷史清楚地表明，為了確保迅速和成功地進行這些逮捕，在深夜逮捕公民將是最佳策略。

如果有足夠的警察在場，包括乘坐熊貓的戰術小隊（那是維克-波爾購買的許多裝甲車之一），以防該公民的一些鄰居對發生的事情有異議，一切都應該相當有效地進行。

但我懷疑鄰居們會這樣做，因為到那時，我們在英雄紀念館和其他抗議活動中看到的暴力可能會成為常態，所以我懷疑很少有人願意處理這個問題，尤其是獨自一人穿著睡衣。

這時我又回到了那個不讓我睡覺的夢。 事實上，現在是凌晨3點，我正在寫這篇文章。

我可以看到這個警察，他坐在前往再教育營地的麵包車的乘客座位上。在他旁邊，司機開著收音機，正在跟著唱一些80年代的搖滾歌曲，而我則面朝下躺在後面的地板上，戴著手銬，一動不動，還在流血。

然後我看到他試圖告訴他的妻子，他不僅認出了我，而且最困難的部分是在回家的路上，他們開車經過那個寫著歡迎來到墨爾本的標誌。

但她拒絶了他。因為她不想聽。因為他們無能為力。他們有房屋貸款，有汽車貸款，他們的孩子在好學校讀書，如果他退出警隊，他們將成為麻風病人，因為暗地裡大家都知道，現在的社會都討厭警察。

我們會去哪裡？我們將如何生活？

而我們只剩下三天的時間來預訂我們的第四支加強針。如果我們不這樣做，你不僅會失去你的工作，而且會失去我們的自由。

我看到他在點頭。因為這就是他的堅強。而如今，吸氣和沉默是關鍵。

這是一份工作，她說。

是的，我聽到他對自己說的更多是“這只是一份工作”。

然後，當她和孩子們睡覺時，我看著他，因為他獨自在他的男人洞穴裡，他用步槍，他用來獵鹿的那支，和一顆大威力的子彈，來逃跑。

邁克爾-格雷-格里菲斯

I have a recurring dream that keeps me awake.

It revolves in a downward spiral around this young Victorian Police Officer who spoke to me one morning on the steps of Parliament house. He was with another, older officer, but that man just listened, as this young one said. 

“Look, I’m with you. Lots of us are. But what can I do? It’s a job, and out there there are thousands that would jump at the chance to do it, so if I quit it would be pointless.” 

Then we spoke about the first big protest and the now famous violinist’s broken-hearted version of the national anthem.

“It made me cry,” he said.  “And that song has never made me cry.”

It’s never made anyone cry, we all laughed. In fact it’s so boring, that most of us have never even bothered to learn the second verse. 

Then I thanked him, as a representative for Vic Pol, for the lack of violence we had seen from their members since the picnic protest in Acland street.

I also told him that recently, a sergeant met some of the organisers on these same steps and remarked to them how he was glad that there were protesters here, for this was how democracy worked. But that is not actually true I told this young officer, and because of the mask I could only see his troubled eyes. I think the relaxed protesters are more a symptom that democracy is working, for the true test of a free society is one where law abiding citizens are not scared of their own police force. More than this, it’s one where the police a quietly seen for what most of them are, every day decent heroes. 

And he nodded to this. They both did.

Trouble is, I thought to myself after he’d left, in a few days, if this bill passes, then at the Premier’s discretion there will be no further protests. Not only that, many of these officers will have new duties, such as escorting PSOs to people’s abodes, entering them, without a need for a warrant and dragging the person or persons out, away from their family and friends and pets, and then, after placing them in the back of whatever vehicle will be used, transporting them to a detention centre, were they will stay, without a trial, and at their own expense for up to two years. Longer if the Premier deems it necessary.

In that time, they will not be allowed any communication with family or friends, and at any time, without warning, they could be transported somewhere else. The only right they will have, and this is all in the bill, is that once a day they will be allowed to write a letter to their warden, in the hope that if the warden is suitably impressed, he will pass the letter on.

Now common sense and history make it clear that to ensure these arrests are made quickly and successfully, arresting the citizen late at night will be the best strategy.

With enough police present, including a tactical squad in a bear cat, (that’s one of the many armoured cars that Vic Pol has purchased) just in case some of the citizen’s neighbours have an issue with what’s happening, everything should move rather efficiently.

But I doubt the neighbours will, for by then the violence we have seen at the shrine and other protests will probably be the norm, and so I doubt few people will want to deal with that, especially alone and in their pyjamas. 

And this is where I return to the dream that won’t let me sleep.  In fact it’s 3 am and I’m writing this now.

I can see this police officer, he’s in the passenger seat of the van that is heading to the Resilience Camp. Next to him, the driver has the radio on and is singing along to some 80’s rock song, as I lay face down on the floor in the back, handcuffed, still, and bleeding. 

Then I see him trying to tell his wife, how not only did he recognise me, but the hardest part was on the way home when they drove past that sign that says Welcome to Melbourne.

But she shuts him down. Because she doesn’t want to hear. Because there is nothing they can do. They have the mortgage, the car loans, their kids are in good schools, and if he quits the force they will be lepers, for secretly everyone knows that society now hate the police. 

Where would we go? How would we live?

And we only have three days left to book in our fourth booster shot. And if we don’t do that, you’ll not only lose your job but well lose our freedom.

And I see him nodding. Because that’s how strong he is. And nowadays, sucking it in and silence is the key. 

It’s a job, she says. 

Yep, I hear him say more to himself. It’s a job.

Then, as she and the kids sleep, I watch him, as alone in his man cave, he uses the rifle, the one he used to hunt deer with, and a high-powered bullet, to escape.

Michael  Gray Griffith