KENNY - 1. Chapter 1

Kenny pulled into the closest available parking space, turned off the ignition and settled back with a sigh of relief. The drive from Melbourne since mid-morning to this part of South Gippsland was not long, but he’d driven all the way without a stop.

He surveyed the spreading Marist Brothers College and the adjacent (St. Bridget’s) nunnery which dominated this small Victorian country town of Waterford. The grounds certainly were spacious and well-kept with flower beds and some ornamental trees. He gave a mental tick to the gardeners.

Fuck! Well this is it. After all the exchanges of letters and phone calls, I’m about to experience cold reality. Is this the only way to recover from a messy love affair? Who knows? If there is a manual on how to deal with heartbreak then I’d like to know. Am I being a coward and running away or being courageous? (Sigh) I guess there’s only one way to find out.

♂♂

Kenny climbed the wide entrance steps that opened into the main foyer. It was quiet and strangely deserted even at this time of the afternoon. From around a corner a ‘mousy’ young woman appeared, carrying what looked to be text books.

‘I’m looking for Brother Dominic; can you tell me where he might be?’

Following the young woman’s directions he found himself fronting a door marked PRINCIPAL. He knocked on the door and a gruff voice bid him ‘enter’!

Opening the door he came face to face with a veritable she-dragon. Two ferocious eyes stared at him through pearly rimmed reading glasses.

‘Can I help you? Said she, with a voice that was pure venom.

‘Um. My name is Kenny Jones . . . from Melbourne. I’m the new teacher and. . ’

‘You’re early. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow. Did you get the time wrong?’

‘Umm, no. I just thought I’d come early so I could settle in before I start classes. Is it a problem?’

‘Only that the Headmaster is a very busy man and he can’t just drop his schedule to talk to some inconsiderate wretch who doesn’t have the courtesy of keeping to an appointed time.’

Now Kenny had a way of dealing with these females. Mentally he stripped her naked. No bras, no make-up, no girdle, no panties. And what an ugly sight. Riddled with cellulite; her tits hung down like used condoms; her wide fat hips overflowed around her girth and her face looked like a saggy gorgon. He had to suppress a smile as she self-importantly flounced into the Principal’s office . . . of course, without knocking.

Returning, she grudgingly ushered Kenny into the Headmaster’s office where he was greeted with a warm handshake and invited to sit. Kenny studied his new boss; even seated Brother Dominic looked tall and studious. Sitting back in his chair, Kenny could feel his intelligent eyes observing him. When he eventually spoke it was with a calm and resonant voice.

“Welcome Mr. Jones, welcome. You are impressively early. Did you have a good journey?”

‘Umm yes, thank you. I hope I’m not intruding or being rude by turning up early.’

‘If you had difficulty with my secretary, please don’t be concerned. She likes to unsettle all newcomers. Really, she’s all bark and no bite. Can I offer your some tea or coffee?

‘Well she was a little daunting,’ said Kenny somewhat relieved. ‘I only wanted to get settled before classes commenced; and no thanks I don’t need any refreshments just now.’

Kenny started to feel relaxed; he leaned back and placed his arm around his chair.

‘Good, good. Just give me a moment to . . . to locate your file (pause). . . Aarh, here it is. Now let’s see. You went to Frankston high and then started Teacher College training before being interrupted by your career as a rookie for the Saint Kilda Football Club.’ Brother Dominic looked up to observe Kenny’s affirmative nod. Then,

‘And after retiring from football you completed your Teacher College studies. Following graduation you spent a year with Frankston Secondary College. This brings us to now. Have I summed up your career correctly?’

‘Yes’, Kenny agreed. ‘That’s about it I guess’.

Putting down his reading glasses, Brother Dominic peered at Kenny with a small smile.

‘We all admire your football exploits here; we are indeed lucky to have someone so famous. Tell me, do you miss playing football?’

Sitting back with his arm around the back of the chair, Kenny gave a small laugh before responding,

‘I miss playing footy. Yes, I love the game and do miss it; but what I don’t miss is the training. These days only young guys can keep up with the heavy schedule demands. I’m happy to just watch.’

‘Well, as you probably know we encourage football here. Our school has been prominent in developing the sport with boys and has enjoyed some success. But I’m sure you’re aware of this. ‘

Kenny just nodded, as Brother Dominic continued,

‘Our sports master is Brother Michael, and I’ll introduce you when we’re finished talking. It’s my hope that you could perhaps share some of your practical match experience with him and our boys. Brother Michael does not have the personal track record that you do.’

‘I’ll try and help out in any way that I can. However, I’m not here for footy. I want to resume my teaching career and hopefully become a better teacher. I love kids and get a kick by helping them achieve their full potential. And I’m here for as long as you want me.’

Brother Dominic nodded his approval, but then he seemed to become uneasy, almost embarrassed. After a moment’s pause,

‘I must reluctantly bring up the subject of your sexual preference.’ Kenny went to interrupt but,

‘No. No . . . please let me finish. This is indeed awkward for me. You are the first openly gay teacher we’ve ever had at this school. Many people are against your coming so I have to warn you that you may face some unpleasantness. The Catholic Church in particular is against homosexuality and it’s only been recently that our attitudes have softened. Unfortunately, not only your teaching skills are on trial but your personal conduct will face scrutiny.’

‘Do you relay the same message to ‘straight’ teachers when they start at the college? After all, surely a heterosexual teacher presents the same danger when teaching young girls as do homosexual teachers?’

There was a moment of awkward silence and Kenny realized he should not be so aggressive with Father Dominic. Perhaps he’d gone too far; but surely he had the right to defend himself! Adopting a conciliatory tone he uttered,

‘Look sir, I didn’t mean . . .’

‘No Kenny, you are quite right; I should not have made an issue of your sexuality. It was very wrong of me . . . very wrong. I do apologize. Please accept my apology.’

Kenny nodded his acceptance, as Father Dominic continued,

‘Now, please put all that behind us and come with me to find Brother Michael.

♂♂

They found Brother Michael on the school sports ground, where he was putting the school footy team through some basic muscle conditioning. The sports master was a man in his late thirties who obviously, even with his baggy track attire, kept himself in good shape. He had a full head of black hair parted, in an old fashioned way on the side. His face was craggy like a boxer who had had one too many fights. But his eyes were cold; a cold grey that seemed not to carry any warmth. But when he smiled his features softened.

His handshake was firm and masculine - almost friendly. With Br. Dominic looking on they exchanged pleasantries and Kenny began to relax. He offered,

‘It’s a real pleasure to meet you Brother Michael; I’ve been hearing how successful you’ve been with the lads.’

‘Thank you Kenny; please drop the ‘Brother’ and call me simply Mike, everyone does. Yes we’ve got a good team and we’ll benefit from your match experience. The boys know about you joining us and they’re enthusiastic to meet with you. There’s a couple of youngsters who have caught my eye and I’m giving them special attention. I’d like your opinion.

With that Br. Dominic interrupted with,

‘Now that you two have met I’ll be off to attend to other matters’ Turning slightly he remarked to Kenny,

‘Brother Michael is very good with the boys, and I’m sure Kenny that you’ll give him your earnest help’; and then walked away.

But once he was out of hearing, the atmospherics changed. Brother Michael took a step backwards and placed his hands on his hips. Gone were the friendly smile and the warmth he generated before. His eyes grew cold and he stared at Kenny with a look of utmost contempt.

‘Let me make myself clear, crystal clear. You disgust me. You’re a freak. If ever I suspect you of unwarranted attention to any boy – or boys. I’ll not only beat you to within an inch of your life but I’ll hand you over to the police. I’ll ruin you; I’ll see that you spend the rest of your miserable life as some piece of filth’s bitch. In the eyes of god you’re evil, sick, depraved, and not even deserving of pity. Do you understand me, have I made myself clear?’

‘No, not really; I wasn’t paying too much attention. I’m off to update my ‘Working with Children’ accreditation at the local police station. Will you tell the headmaster I might be half an hour late tomorrow morning. Thanks . . . Mike’; and walked off leaving the Sports master fuming. Then spying Billy Yorta close by Br. Michael yelled,

‘Yorta . . . get back to the team before I put my boot up your scrawny, black abbo arse.

♂♂

Kenny had an option of choosing a flat or a semi-detached for his personal use and he opted for the latter. He loved having space around him. The house was completely furnished; not exactly for his liking but it’d do for the time being. At breakfast his thoughts wandered to Br. Mike’s outburst.

Well, at least I know where I stand with the cunt. What a two-faced shit he is; friendly in company, but a bigoted homophobe when no one’s around. I wonder what makes him tick. Being celibate is unnatural; I bet he beats off when alone, fanaticizing over some juicy chick. I’ll still have to watch him though – he could be trouble.

His most immediate task was to visit the local cop’s shop and update his ‘Working with Children’ permit which he had kept current throughout his footy career. Walking through the main doors he headed for the inquiry counter. The room beyond was full of old battered desks with uncomfortable chairs, many of which were unoccupied. Over in a corner several youngish uniformed male cops were drinking coffee and chatting.

Immediately he was welcomed by a young female constable with blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had an open friendly face and a soft pleasing voice.

‘How can we help you?

‘Um . . . I’m a new teacher at the Marist College, and I want to present my ‘Working with Children’ certificate. I know this is not mandatory but I reckon I should do this anyway.’ He felt the constable, whose name tag read ‘Senior Constable Meadows’, appraising him.

‘Your face is familiar. Do I know you from somewhere? I reckon I’m good at face recognition. And then the light dawned,

‘You’re Kenny Jones, Kenny Jones who plays for St. Kilda, right?’

‘Yep (a little self-consciously), that’s me. I’m retired now and am continuing my teaching career.’

‘Wow, Kenny Jones in person. I’m a great fan; been a Saints supporter for many years now. God, wait till I tell my old man that I’ve met Kenny Jones. Can I have your autograph?’

‘Happy to oblige. Tell me your hubby’s name then I’ll get a footy and autograph it for him.’

‘Nah, meant my dad. No husband – and not likely to be. My pop will go bonkers to have an autographed footy by Kenny Jones; can’t wait to tell him. By the way, my name’s Gloria. Geeze, I can’t believe it, Kenny Jones in person.’

The conversation was overheard by the group of young cops and they broke away to join Kenny and (senior) Constable Meadows. They all wanted to shake Kenny’s hand and compliment him. Seems that while they supported different teams they as one, respected his on-field skills. There was a lot of laughter and friendly jibes thrown around; Constable Meadows it seems was accepted as ‘one of the boys’. Kenny was in the middle of retelling the tale of the drawn Grand Final against Collingwood when,

‘What the hell’s going on? This is a police station unless you haven’t noticed. I could hear the racket out back. Someone better explain – now!’

Kenny paused and turned round to face the direction of the menacing voice. All conversation had died. Then before he could do anything further the voice continued,

“Aha, Kenny Jones. How are you Kenny? Heard you were coming to our town . . . remember me?’ Now Kenny turned to face the voice and gulped . . . Laurie Cree. It was Laurie Cree, a lot older but still the same and - Sergeant Laurie Cree no less! Into the stony silence that had gripped everybody Kenny managed,

‘Laurie . . . Laurie Cree. ‘It’s been a long time: haven’t seen you since we were kids. How long has it been . . . 15 years? You’re looking good.’ This last sounded pathetic.

‘Don’t bullshit me! Life sucks! But here we are again; and if you think I’ve mellowed over time – think again. Being the famous footballer doesn’t gel with me; you’re still the ‘pretty boy’ I used to beat every time we fought.’ And turning ‘round to the onlookers, he barked,

‘Get back to work – all of you; Get cracking; NOW!’

Then, with a slight inclination of his head, he indicated his corner office and requested Kenny to,

‘Come . . . let’s talk.’

The Laurie Cree of old had not changed and this was evident in the plain, almost stark furnishings creating an atmosphere that reeked of testosterone and the stale smell of unwashed flesh. In this room authority prevailed – and supposedly, justice dispensed.

Inviting Kenny to sit, Sergeant Cree leaned forward with his elbows on the desk. Laurie Cree was an ugly person to look at because all his features were over sized. His nose was too big; his ears too large; the mouth too wide and the face too fleshy; and his eyes seemed to smolder with barely repressed anger. Over all he looked punch drunk. Compared to Kenny, Laurie Cree was just plain unattractive. Perhaps this was why he always bullied Kenny at school.

Cree leaned back and surveyed Kenny with cold eyes.

‘From when we were kids, we have history . . . bad history, don’t we? And now you’re in my town, a self-exposed pervert, the aggro between us continues. I must admit though, you fight well for a queer. When I heard that you were going to teach at the college, I was outraged and let my feelings known to Br. Dominic . . .’ He paused and leaned forward with his elbows on the desk . . .

‘. . . but it seems that because of the anti-discrimination laws I can’t publicly reproach you; but we’re alone now; just you and I, and I must tell you that I regard all poofters and their unnatural practices . . . disgusting! You put one . . . just one foot wrong, and I’ll have you charged and incarcerated to the full extent of my authority. You copy?’

‘Laurie, putting aside your remarks about my sexuality, why just why, do you still harbor this antagonism towards me. I say to you, that you would’ve still hated me even if I were straight.’ Now Kenny leaned forward so that their faces were very close. ‘Isn’t it about time we stopped acting like children and treat each other as adults? And I’d also add . . . start respecting each other.’ When Cree started to interrupt, Kenny continued,

‘No, let me finish. You’re the senior cop and I’m just a teacher at the local school. There, it that’s simple . . . let’s not complicate our relationship beyond that. There’s no need.’

‘No need you say no need! I can’t ignore that you’re a fag, a queer, and in my eyes a threat to young boys – boys that come under your duty of care. If I ignored that I wouldn’t be doing my duty . . .’

As Cree was talking Kenny thought,

. . . He hasn’t grown up in the last fifteen years. There’s no reasoning with him; he still enjoys being antagonistic. One day I must get in touch with Jeff, his young brother, and find out what makes Cree so unpleasant. It’s not natural to harbor all this rage for so long. Jeff is someone I can talk to. We used to be very good friends.

‘. . . and my duty is very clear, to rid this town of all deviates, sexual predators and their unnatural practices. I try to make my own family an example to all. I have a wife and two boys who make me very proud. It’s why the people in this community look up to me. If I find out that any one of your kind molests any one of my boys, I’ll kill them – and bugger the consequences. I gave Constable Meadows the same warning I’m giving you.’

‘Laurie,’ Kenny said getting up, ‘If you’re determined to continue this antagonism then knock yourself out. Wallow in it if you will; I’m getting on with my life and to hell with your hatred.’

And he then walked out into the absolute silence of the reception area. A soft voice said,

‘Kenny . . .’ Turning around he saw that Senior Constable Meadows was holding a piece of paper which he took before striding angrily out of the police station.

♂♂

‘ . . . I told you not to call me on this line; it’s too dangerous. Emailing is better, as long as you immediately delete our exchanges.’

‘I know, I know. But I just had to tell you that I’ve been contacted by another who shares our passion for young people. And don’t think emails are secure; even deleted emails can be brought back to life. I’ve just had another amazing time with the abbo boy and I just had to tell someone.’

‘What, are you referring to the new recruit or your encounter with the boy?’

‘The boy of course; he really knows what to do with a cock. It gets better every time we meet. And I know his parents don’t mind; all they can think about is the money I give them. I’m starting to believe he’s gay like me; he responds enthusiastically to my advances. I get hard just thinking about it!’

‘Mmmm . . . just go quietly; don’t overdo the relationship. What we’re doing is very dangerous but if we’re careful we won’t get caught. If we’re careful . . . do you understand?’

‘Yes, yes. What about you. Have you had any adventures lately?’

‘Not physical. No, and I’m getting frustrated. But I’ve got my eye on a young abbo girl who walks home alone after school. Like you, their soft velvety skin makes me go weak at the knees. By the way, is our new friend gay, or straight like me?’

‘Does it matter? He’s a pedophile just like you and I.