To Sammy With Love - 2. Chapter 2

He was jolted awake by a mess of arms, legs and hair landing on his stomach. This was to the sound of girlish high squeals and laughter.

“Get up Dadda -’s late. Dadda - wake up, c’mon, Susie tickle him”- suggested by his eldest daughter Narrelle.

“All right - all right - stop it.” pleaded Peter “I’m awake. - Don’t tick - ha. Ha. Ha. Stop it - ha - he - he - alright you’ve won, I’m awake.” He heard Brenda call out “C’mon girls - Let daddy get up. Come and have your cereal.”

Pushing all memories of the previous night away, Peter resumed the mantle of the family man. He got dressed in casual jeans and went into the kitchen.

“Morning,” said Brenda as she poured milk into the girls bowls. “You were pretty late last night. Yet again, I might add.”

“Yeah, sorry - My Friday card nights are getting longer. Guess the other guys are being roused on as well.”

“Well, I don’t know about the other wives, because I haven’t met them - Have I? Seems we have to make a sacrifice just so you guys can have a good time - Coffee?”

“Thanks - Yeah well, I don’t go out every night and if we had something planned, I would forgo the cards. You can’t begrudge me one night a week.”

“OK.” Brenda heaved a sigh. “It’s just that the girls miss you. I suppose we’re being a bit selfish in wanting to see you every night.” This, a little bitchy.

Through the gently rising steam from his coffee, Peter observed Brenda. She was a good-looking chick - a brunette with big bones and creamy skin. Her green eyes were capable of changing color as her moods alternated. She had a good figure, even after two childbirths, and could still fill out a swimsuit alluringly. A few of Peter’s friends told him he was very lucky to have a looker like Brenda - and that he didn’t deserve her. Typical crap. Peter thought -

Who, in their right mind, would want to risk all this for random sexual encounters. Hmm, - I guess, I do.

“Daddy, I got into trouble at school yesterday because a really biiggg boy hit me.” This announcement came from Narrelle, in her most commanding voice. Although he knew he was opening Pandora’s proverbial box and that he would be sorry, he was obligated to say -

“If a big boy hit you, why did you get into trouble?”

“Cause I spit in his lunch when he wasn’t looking. But a school teacher saw me and reported me to old Mrs. Fosdyke, the Headmistress.” announced Narrelle. This, it seemed, to a six y.o was justification for a wrongful deed.

“Oh daddy, she’s such a big fibber" Susie challenged her big sister. "He didn’t hit you - I heard you on the phone telling one of your friends that you just made up that story to find an excuse to spit on him. And I think you’re disgusting.”

“Stop it girls,” commanded Brenda. Then to Peter “They are misbehaving because they don’t see enough of you”.

Inwardly he sighed, but didn’t respond to the obvious challenge. “What’s on for today?” He put his hand up to stop any more dialogue from his daughters. “Whoowa - Let me talk to Mummy.”

“Well, I’ve got to do some catering and you’ve got to clean the Bbq, ’cause Maria and Karl are coming over tomorrow for lunch”.

“Hold on”, he said, “Karl didn’t say anything to me last Saturday at the footy.”

“That’s because Maria and I only decided yesterday at school,” responded Brenda. “We thought it was a good idea because the weathers so good.”

“Cool,” announced his sophisticated oldest 6 y.o.” I like Uncle Karl, he makes me laugh.”

At this, Brenda looked up at Peter and said, “Some people would like to do more than laugh with him.”

Peter was suddenly intrigued. What was Brenda on about? He waited for Brenda’s next words, which were -

“One of the other teachers told Maria that Karl was a ‘doll’ - a very attractive spunk. She nearly implied that he was too good for Maria. Maria told her to keep her hands off her husband and stop acting like a slut. We had a nasty scene developing. Hey Peter - are you OK? You look a bit flustered.”

“Just listening” he answered back. Then added - “I suppose you could say that Karl is good looking.”

Brenda continued with,

“Yeah, to another male he’s just good looking, but to a female, by any name, Karl is spunk. I’ll tell you why. (Peter now began to feel uncomfortable)

Firstly, look at his skin. A woman notices these things. It’s like satin in texture and seems to glow with health. Secondly, he’s got fantastic legs - I guess from climbing ladders and such. And thirdly, but not the least, his fantastic bum. He’s just got a great arse. And when you put all these together with a handsome face - Well, it’s easy to see why girls find him cute and cuddly. In fact one teacher likened him to the actor Casper Van Diem.”

Now, for a moment, Peter actually felt a surge of jealousy. Brenda’s description was painfully accurate. I’m not the only one attracted to Karl. Oh how bloody wonderful.

“Yeah, I guess you women would find him ‘cute’. I’ll have a word tomorrow and tell him to wear a sheet like the Arabs do.”

“(Laughing) don't you dare; anyway - what are you going to do today?”

Narrelle, who had been waiting for a chance to interject, said, “Daddy’s taking me for a swim - Just me and not you Susie. You’re not old enough.”

Predictably, Susie started to cry, “Me too, I want to go - I’m not too young. I hate you ’relle.”

“Ok you two, knock it off. I’m not going swimming - I’m going to clean the BBQ and then sit down this ’arvo and watch the footie.”

With that, he finished the rest of his coffee and left Brenda to start cleaning up, and of course, to referee between the girls.

However, Brenda couldn’t help thinking about the pensive look Peter had when she was talking about Karl. Perhaps she had come on a bit strong. Peter was jealous - After all, he was only human. She could not then tell him that the other teachers were speculating about the size of Karl’s penis - behind Maria’s back, of course.

Sunday arrived bright and clear. It was great BBQ weather. Yesterday, the ‘Saints’ had lost to the ‘Swanees’, but this loss couldn’t dampen Peters spirits as he prepared for the BBQ. Actually, he loved cooking BBQ and was proud of his set up. Brenda had busied herself fixing side dishes for the food. Not that she had a lot to do. Last Friday, when planning the BBQ, she and Maria had organized who was going to do what. Anyway, Maria was a good cook - She always prepared something special.

Several blasts of a car horn eventually announced the arrival of Maria and Karl. Whilst Maria carried her food to the kitchen, Karl strolled around back to the BBQ area.

“Hey buddy,” a voice called. Peter looked up from his ‘chores’ and took in the magnificent spectacle that was Karl. Today, he was wearing a white T/Shirt that stretched over his chest, and tight blue jeans. Just beautiful, Peter thought, a superb, young male animal. Peter’s mouth was dry as he fought to keep his inner feelings in check.

Never before had he been envious of a pair of jeans, but those jeans just clung possessively to Karl’s superb legs.

“What’s doing?” said Karl with his usual radiant smile. “What did you think of the game yesterday?”

“Yeah, it was a fiasco. We were piss-weak. Our midfield just couldn’t get on top. The ball hardly got past the half-forward line. Also, our kicking in front of goal let us down badly. Did you watch it?”

“Nah,” said Karl “I’m a coward. I knew we were going to get done, but not by five goals. I was thinking about giving you a call - you know, misery loves company.”

“Well, let’s drown our sorrows now. Get yourself a beer”, invited Peter.

“Ta.” responded Karl. Peter watched as Karl leaned into the esky and retrieved a can of Fosters. With a practiced movement, he peeled the top off and took a long swig at the beer.

“I’ll join you - how’s work? It’s been good weather for tiling roofs this week, hasn’t it? I love Melbourne’s weather this time of year.”

“Yeah, weathers fine, but works just so and so,” admitted Karl. “I had to stand down 3 of my gang because orders are slowing up. It seems that good weather relaxes people about the state of their roofs. I always find that when bad storms are predicted, I get frantic calls from customers to inspect or repair their roofs. It’s a bitch. If repairs are needed, we can’t get them done because of the weather. Ya can’t win. Anything I can do to help?”

“Nah mate. Thanks anyway. Just relax and get pissed. Let Uncle Peter look after you. My world famous BBQ steak awaits your hungry tummy.”

“Sounds great, can’t wait. Actually, I’d like to talk to you about something. Fact is I regard you as my best friend” Karl’s tone had softened to a cautious level. “I’ve some personal issues that are bugging me. Well, one in particular Can we talk later - just you and me?”

“Yeah, of course. How about we meet Tuesday night, down the pub. The girls will be joining soon and we can’t have a heart to heart with them listening in. Can it wait till then?”

“Yeah sure - yeah, you’re right. It can wait. Hey, what’s happening with you? You’re looking real good.”

“Not much, I’ve been working steady - the business is going well. I’ve got more doctors recommending me for treatment of diabetes and sports injury trauma. Main thing is it keeps the bank manager happy. Brenda’s good and the girls are being themselves.”

At this point in the conversation, Peter’s thoughts turned briefly to Friday nights and his encounters at the steam-bathes. If Karl ever went to ‘Spartacus’ he would be extremely popular. He was relaxed now as the beer did its work. Peter’s heart started beating wildly as the thought of seeing Karl completely undressed and spread out beneath him. He had the beginnings of an erection. Down Boy!

Back in the kitchen, Maria was helping Brenda with the salads. In fact, Maria had taken over from Brenda, as she was, everyone agreed, a very good salad maker. As she turned around to place a platter of‘nibbles’ on a tray, Brenda glanced at Maria. How I wish I had her creamy complexion, she mused. Maria was a dark brunette and her soft complexion highlighted her dark hair. But her normally very pretty face was set in a half frown.

“What’s the matter girl, you look a bit down.”

“Oh. It’s just that Karl and I had a bit of bad news the other night - nothing serious. If we get a chance at school, I’ll chat to you. We’re just going through a rough patch. And Karl’s business is a bit slow.”

“We all have ‘blue’ patches. Just keep remembering you’ve got a great guy, and you both make a handsome couple. You know, you and Karl are our closest and dearest friends. You can talk to me girl, anytime you want.”

“Thanks Brenda, that means a lot. I’m lucky I’ve got such a good friend as you.”

“Hey, I’m honored. Right - now what are you making for our ’cavemen’.”

“Caesar salad.” said Maria, happy to change the subject. “I’m making it with lots of avocado, just for Peter. What with your famous

‘old fashioned’ potato salad and my ‘Avocado Caesar’ the boys will be eating out of our hands.”

“Great, “smiled Brenda. “I’ll get everything ready to take out”.

Out at the BBQ, Karl had consumed two cans, and was feeling more relaxed. He was glad they hadn’t discussed his problems because Karl wasn’t sure how to open the subject. It could wait till next Tuesday. To lighten the atmosphere he said -

“I reckon if our midfielders can up their work rate by 50% we might have a chance of making the finals this year. We’ve got a damn good forward line, particularly centered on Riewold. Even with the poor delivery rate from our midfield he’s still the leading goal-kicker.”

“Yeah,” agreed Peter. “That’s spot on, all we need is more ball in the 50 meter zone and we’re away.”

“Hey, I hope you’re coming to the game next Saturday. It should be a challenge against the ’magpies’.”

“Yep”, Karl said emphatically.” I’ll be there. And I’ll probably have a guest - that OK?”

“That's Fine by me.” Peter was about to ask who Karl was bringing, when the girls arrived on the scene with the salads.

Lunch proceeded at a comfortable pace only experienced by people who were very close friends. The afternoon went slowly and quietly. Both Karl and Peter were getting pleasantly drunk. As Maria was driving, Karl could drink as much as he wanted to. But to Brenda, the famous women’s intuition’ told her that there was a strain between Maria and Karl. She mused that the BBQ, Maria’s idea, was to compensate for whatever issue lay between the couple. She, being a woman, immediately thought that Karl might be cheating on Maria. After all, Karl could probably get any woman he wanted. If so, it would be a terrible shame. Her marriage to Peter was solid and she thought it inconceivable that Peter would stray and endanger all that they had, as a family.

Taking their leave, Karl was about to make arraignments for next Saturday when Peter reminded him of their meeting on Tuesday.

“I’ll see you at the pub at 6pm,” said Peter. “We can arrange our meeting for Saturday then.”

Cleaning up the bbq stuff, Brenda related to Peter the brief words she had with Maria about their problems.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Karl gave me an impression that something was troubling him. He didn’t mention Maria.” Turning to face Brenda, he said, “We have agreed to meet down the Pub, Tuesday night. He seemed, not so much upset, but preoccupied. It’s hard to tell with Karl- He plays very close to his chest. Maybe it’s a German thing. What did Maria say?”

“Not much. She half promised to talk to me at school. Now I’m intrigued. Karl wants to talk to you, one on one, and Maria wants to discuss the issue with me when Karl’s not around. This is getting mysterious.”

“Well, as I said, it’s hard to tell with Karl. Anyway, I’m meeting him at 6 pm, so I guess I’ll find out then what’s doing. I hope it’s not serious.”

“OK. I’ll finish here you go and watch the telly, and, Peter, take some time to play with the girls.”

Consciousness came slowly and painfully. Gradually, her thoughts began to focus. Vague recollections of the previous night assaulted her. Billee became more aware of her surroundings. She was in a bed . . . but whose? Oh God . . . . Where the hell was she? With some trepidation, she let her hand slide slowly beside her and, - Relief. She was alone. But, where alone? It was dark, but she heard distinct daytime sounds coming from somewhere. Then she realized that it was only dark because she had the blanket pulled over her head. Her next courageous move was to peek out from the blanket to see if she could recognize her surroundings. Slowly she lowered the blanket and with one eye, peeked out at the morning.

All she could see was the ceiling of her own room. She was in her own bed and, more importantly, alone. Thank you, lord.

She took a few moments to relax and slow her beating heart. She crawled back under the blanket where it was safe.

Perhaps if I stay here all day I won’t have to remember anything about last night - just dream of beautiful things. The nasty world would just go away.

But then she said to herself -

Come on girl, where’s your courage. Get up and face the day. It can’t be all bad.

Summoning all her strength, she lowered the blanket, sat up - and froze.

There on the bedpost, the right-hand bedpost was a pair of male jockey shorts. And they didn’t look fresh.

A jumble of terrified thoughts went through her - whose? How? Where is the owner? - Oh my God, what had she done - and with whom? She couldn’t remember anything. Where was Vera - It was all her fault.

Just then a voice, Sam’s voice, called from the kitchen “You awake babe? I’ve got some hot and strong coffee ready.”

“Yes - I’m awake,” she said, addressing the pair of jockey shorts. “Give me a minute.”

“OK - And by the way, have you seen a pair of my undershorts anywhere? I’ve misplaced them.” This followed by sounds of barely restrained laughter. In fact, Sam was losing control of his giggles.

Then it hit Billee - Sammy had set her up. Giving way to waves of relief, she yelled -

“YOU BLOODY LITTLE SHIT - YOU BASTARD - I'M GOING TO KILL YOU . . . YOU . . . YOU DICKHEAD.”

With that, she flew out of bed, tore into the kitchen, under full sail, and rigged for action, to find Sam doubled up over the kitchen table. He was heaving with laughter. Racing back into her bedroom she grabbed the jockeys, flounced back to the kitchen and stuffed the offending, unfresh, apparel into his coffee cup.

When all the hilarity has subsided, Sam asked her about last night. “You got in very late and very pissed,” he reflected. “Where did you and Vera go?”

“Just the local - I think we met up with some of the local footy boys, and - don’t remember much more. How did I get home? Has Vera rung?”

“No, she hasn’t - And I think I heard a cab. You really tied one on. I got the impression that you were trying to drown sorrows - You seemed really sad when you got home - I think the term is ‘maudlin’ drunk.” Sam paused and thought very carefully about what he was going to say next.

“Hey Billee, I know I’ve only known you for a couple of months, but I get the feeling that something’s bothering you. Underneath that brash exterior of yours is a vulnerable human being. I hope you’ll treat me as a friend. You’ve been listening to all my problems, but aside from your rotten marriage, you haven’t said a lot about YOU. Anytime you feel like chatting - I’m here.”

“Thanks Sammy - You’re spot on. Sometimes I think I can cope, but then, memories come flooding back and whamee, and I’m back down in the pits.”

“Yeah, in the short time I’ve known you, I can tell when you’re starting to crumble. Look, I’m only 22 and just a kid, but I do know that bottling up your feelings and then using alcohol to self-medicate is not good. Sometimes we just need to talk.”

“Yeah - I guess you do. I reckon you know what trouble is.”

All this time Billee had been thinking, she needed to talk. In the past, she avoided inflicting her problems on other people. Even Vera, a close buddy, only knew a little of her past. Whilst she regarded Vera as a close friend, she seemed a bit shallow to share very personal problems. And here was Sammy, just a kid really, who had borne too many of life’s problems at so young an age, yet kept a level head. She had to start trusting someone. Why not Sammy?

“Look Sammy, I’m going to trust you. You’re right - I do need to talk, and you’re close to me like a little brother. You’re more a family than, I believe I’ve ever had.” Billee paused and took a long drag of her cigarette followed by a gulp of coffee. And, started talking -.

“I met Max when I was only 19. He was very good looking and, to tell the truth, I lusted after him. Then I got pregnant and we married. Just like that. It was more a physical arrangement than a love affair. I have a son, Sammy - his name is Luke.”

At this point Sam tried to interject to show his surprise Billee had really dropped a bombshell.

“No, please let me finish, I need to tell this. Luke was born with Attention Deficit Disorder, and other problems. As he grew older, it became obvious that he needed special care. My marriage had turned sour, so I decided that Luke needed shielding from all the domestic shit that was going on. He is in a special school up in the Dandenongs that caters for kids like him. Actually, he’s very happy and is doing well. I go up and see him each fortnight, and - oh Sammy, I love him dearly. Sometimes I feel like I could just explode with love. Taking a slug of coffee and another drag of her cigarette, she continued -

“Anyway, soon after I put Luke in school, the marriage really went belly up. I found that Max was a closet bisexual, and had been sleeping around with both guys and women. Don’t get me wrong, you know I’m not against gays, but he admitted he was having unprotected sex. And then coming home too little ’ol me.”

“Christ,” said Sam under his breath. “What an arsehole. To put you, and his son, at risk like that. He should be castrated.”

“Yeah,” responded Billee. “Cheating on me was one thing - I guess I could have handled that. But to put my life at risk - I shudder to think about it. I mean, there’s Luke. He’s only got me. Max couldn’t care less. He hasn’t been to see Luke in over 5 years, and that’s the way I want it.”

“Let me continue. We got divorced about 3 years ago and by that time Max had really hit the skids. He lost his cab license, then evicted from his flat, and took to booze and eventually, drugs. I used to give him money when he was very desperate, even though it left me short. I was living over in Sunbury. To get away from Max and bad memories, I moved over here and I rented this place 2 years ago. Max will find me eventually, but, for the time being, I’m safe. And the best thing was when your aunt saw my advert for a flat mate and - Well, you know the rest.”

“Christ Billee,” said Sam very subdued. “You’ve got a lot of bad stuff. And I thought I had problems. I’m going to stand with you and help you in any way you want me to.” With that, Sam got up, came around behind Billee and gave her a big hug.

To Sam’s amazement, Billee started sobbing, slowly at first and then as her control relaxed she released her pain in uncontrolled tears. For some time the two of them stayed like that, until Billee exhausted all her tears.

“I’m sorry; I haven’t had such good blubber in a long time. I actually feel better. You’re right - It’s good to just let it out.”

To Sam, having Billee as a close friend was a welcome, and new, experience. He never had a close friend. Back in Perth, he avoided close personal contact in order to keep his sexual preferences private. He chose to banish himself from friendship as an alternative to being shunned by family and society.

So here was an older and yes, a female person, offering him her friendship. All of a sudden, Sam did not feel alone. He released Billee, sat down and said. “I’d like to come and see Luke with you. I’m picking up my car tomorrow and a run up the Dandenongs would be great. OK?”

“Sammy - that would be terrific. When could we go?”

“Well, how about the weekend after next? That’ll give me time to get the feel of the car and sort out some minor problems. Also, I’ve made a commitment to see the footy this Saturday and I don’t want to change. The following weekend would be better for me. OK by you?”

“Yeah”, Luke was expecting me this weekend, but I’ll call and tell him I’m bringing you up the following Saturday.”

“Done,” said Sammy. “Let’s clean up our mess.”

On Tuesday afternoon, Peter arrived at the Pub around 5:45 and strolled into the Public bar. He waved a greeting to friends who were calling him over. Then spying Karl seated by himself, he declined their invitation and joined Karl.

“Howzit, mate,” Peter offered. Karl merely nodded a greeting. He looked drawn, Peter thought. Karl was always a happy- go- lucky type and this subdued mood was really out of character. His beautiful brown eyes that normally sparkled were dull and listless. Karl radiated despair and depression. He looked drawn and had obviously deteriorated since the BBQ. Peter was glad that they were alone.

“Just a sec,” Said Peter. “I’ll go and get myself a brew”. With that, he went to the bar and waited to be served. But he couldn’t avoid a “How’re ya goin’ mate”. The voice came from Rick who was a friend of both Peter and Karl.

“What’s with Karl?” Rick asked. “He looks like he’s got the world on his shoulders. He refused to join us. That’s unlike Karl. How about I buy a round and join youse?”

“Nah, thanks, but leave it mate. He wants to chew the fat with me. Needs to get something off his chest, I reckon.”

“OK,” said Rick. “I’ll leave you to it. Just let me know if I can help.” With that, Peter paid for his beer and returned to Karl’s table.

“Rick just mentioned that you look down in the dumps. You’re my best buddy Karl, and it hurts me to see you looking so miserable. Get it off your chest and remember whatever it is, it’s cool with me and won’t go any further.”

He watched as Karl silently struggled with his emotions. Finally, a wave of defeat seemed to consume him. He sighed and took a long drink of his beer. “Well, here goes.” He mumbled.

“As you know, Maria and I have been trying to conceive for the past 3 years. Well, last year we went to a fertility clinic to get some advice. It was horrible. Our sex life became a process of taking temperatures and watching calendar dates. Sex became a chore, but we persevered in the belief that it was for a good cause. After six months, there was still no sign of conception. It was then they advised we take some tests to see if there was any impediment to conception. The results came back last week.”

He paused and Peter could see that he was going through an immense struggle. Suddenly he blurted -

“Shit Pete, I’M BARREN. I’m shooting blanks . . . My sperm count is ZERO! Nada!, and Nichts. I’m just a fucking, useless shit of a man.”

The effort to get it out and tell me was so overpowering he started to sob quietly. Peter watched in despair as his shoulders began to heave with the pain of his revelation. He wanted to put his arms around him to provide comfort. The seating arrangement prohibited this. However, he reached out and held Karl’s hand. In addition, felt a wave of caring overwhelm him as he sought for some way to share, if not lessen his anguish. All he could offer was -

“Bloody Hell, oh fuck. Shit mate.”

Like a drowning man fighting for survival, Karl grasped Peter’s hand. In a way, Pete understood what Karl was going through. Every male harbors the deepest fear of either being barren or being castrated.

In Karl’s case, it was worse. Being of German stock and as the only child, he was expected to continue the family line. He would be diminished in his father’s and grandfather’s eyes. A failure.

Peter’s family had always been extremely fertile and having children was never a problem. He just didn’t know what to say.

They sat for a little while without saying anything - he still held on to Pete’s hand tightly - almost afraid to let go.

Peter could almost feel his anguish. After a while he became less tense but kept holding on to Peters hand. Fighting to find the right words all Peter could muster was -

“What a bummer. Mate I’m so sorry. No wonder you’re upset. I know what having a kid means to you. But look -” As his thoughts gathered steam he began to talk positively. “Let’s look at the situation with some objectively. One, you find it hard to deal with as a person. That’s understandable. You’re only human. Let it go, don’t fight the pain. Be miserable. Just go along with the pain. In time - in good old time, it will lessen.

Two - Tell your family to butt piss off! It’s your life, not theirs. I mean, they don’t have the right to expect you to keep the family name going. Tell them to stuff off. I’m not recommending this, but you can always adopt. But that’s for later. Anyway - how’s Maria taking it?”

“She’s OK, I guess - probably relieved she’s not the problem. We were beginning to suspect that she couldn’t have kids and that was stressing her out. Now we know it’s me, I guess she’s thankful. But I don’t think it has really sunk in yet. It will though, and when reality hits, who knows what she will do. Oh, and by the way her tests came back A, OK. With another partner, she can have as many kids as she wants. With another partner”

He was sounding less stressed and in fact gradually let go of Peter’s hand. But his internal pain was obvious - He looked like a confused little boy.

“Karl,” said Peter. “I’m privileged that you could tell me. I’m there for you mate. I hope you know that. And it stays between you and moi. I won’t say anything to Brenda unless you say OK.”

“No - You may as well tell Brenda. I know Maria’s going to tell her at school. But, just between us kids, OK.” Then he whispered - “I feel so ashamed.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit” Peter exclaimed. “That’s just total bullshit. What are you ashamed of? You haven’t done anything wrong. That’s just the way you were made. You had no bloody choice than, say, a black person has being born black, or a person born with a heart defect, or a gay person being born gay. I mean, when did you choose to get rid of your sperm? Ha. Well, you didn’t. What you’re worrying about is what other people will think about you. Well - STUFF ’EM. Nobody has the right to sit in judgment on another person.”

However, other thoughts were running through Peters mind.

I think I am overdoing it. I get angry when other people prejudge gay people. It makes me hopping mad. But this wasn’t about me so I must calm down. Karl is looking at me a bit startled.

Both their glasses were empty and, indeed, Peter needed another drink. He called for a break and headed to the bar. This time he ordered two of the biggest glasses possible. Rick sidled up and in a low voice asked -

“Is everything Ok. I mean you both look as if the worlds just collapsed and we’ve lost our footy coach.”

“Yeah Rick, I can’t say too much. Karl’s got some big problems - at work. I’m just allowing him to get some shit off his liver.”

As he was turning to leave, Rick said, “About Saturday, if you’re going to the footy - mind if I tag along?”

“Hey, that’s cool,” Peter replied. “Call me Saturday morning and we’ll arrange how to meet up.”

Returning to Karl, he placed the large beer down in front of him and said “Drink Up. That’s an order.”

Karl took a large gulp, but remained silent and brooding. Peter wasn’t sure what to say next or really how to handle the situation. Karl was a very deep person. In fact, at times Pete wondered if he knew him at all. Get past the beautiful body and great looks and inside was probably a very mixed up person. Would this very private sharing bring them closer? Nah. - That was just fantasy, or wishful thinking. Anyway, what a bastard act to hope that he would gain out of Karl’s misfortune. Wake up Peter. Aloud he managed -

“Hey, have you thought about a second opinion? Tests can be wrong.” Christ that sounded shallow.

“No.” came out emphatically as he knew it would. “I’ve got to find a way to tell my father. Any suggestions?”

“Well,” Peter reflected. “There’s probably a dozen different and clever ways to go about telling, but the only advice I can give, is to just tell him. Remember, you can’t save his feelings - he has to deal with the facts as they are. He has to deal with reality his way. Just get him aside privately and tell him. You may be surprised.”

“Yeah - I guess you’re right. I’ll only get myself more messed up if I brood over which way to tell him is best. I guess my main concern is Maria. What will she do? I know she desperately needs kids and now that’s something I cannot give her. It will mess her up.”

“Yeah probably,” Pete said. “But she loves you and that’s very important. Start making plans for adoption. You won’t have any problem applying. Every marriage goes through upheaval and only time can soothe the wounds.”

Then Peter experienced a kick in his emotional guts.

Here I am advising Karl on his marriage problems when mine are worse. It’s easy to give advice to someone else but when it comes to your own personal problems, it’s easy to avoid the pain. Why don’t I just up and tell Brenda that I’m gay? I know why - Because I haven’t thought it all out. Would the truth destroy Brenda? What about the children - what’s going to happen to them? Then, what about me?

Can I really face life as a gay person? Can I handle the hostility that goes with gay people? Will I end up old and alone, with few friends and ostracized by my family? I know nothing about gay life except for sex in bathhouses. I don’t even have anyone to talk to. I suppose I should go to a gay counselor.

Then, how about my own words to Karl. “What are you ashamed of? . . . That’s just the way you were made”. Was I really prepared to live the rest of my life as a lie? My sex life with Brenda was diminishing. My sex drive was definitely with males. Fridays are eagerly awaited.

I’m going to tell Brenda - when the time is right. It is going to hurt Brenda, the kids, family and friends. And it was going to hurt me. I hope that it’ll only be short term. The alternative of trying to maintain a lie would only end up with more hurt, for everyone, in the end.

Karl broke into his thoughts with,

“What’s up Pete looks like you’ve got wind?”

“Sorry,” Peter responded. “I was just thinking how life has a habit of suddenly hitting you in the guts - without warning. Karl, I wish could banish your pain. I wish I could transfer your problem to myself. But I can’t do that. All I can do is what we’re doing now - talking. I’m here for you - always. There may come a time when I might need a friend, and I hope it’s you.”

On that note, Peter tried to close the discussion.

“Look, I’m going to have a few drinks with the boys - Want to join?”

After a moment, Karl said, “Nah - I don’t feel like socializing. Anyway, I’ll see you Saturday.”

“OK - you take care.”