The Cockney Canuck - 110. Chapter 110 All or Nothing

‘This all or nothing obsessive behaviour must run in the family’.

I thought I was bad, but Don was even worse. In the year that I had known him, there was nothing about him that suggested he was even remotely religious. He didn’t go to church or talk about God. He didn’t say grace or a blessing before meals, and there were no religious paintings or artefacts dotted around the house.

I doubt if he even owned a bible, yet suddenly, without warning, Don, the ruthless advertising executive with a heart of stone had apparently become a man of God. It was a remarkable transformation and welcome news if true, but I had yet to see any real proof that he had changed for the better.

He spent most of the weekend talking about the benefits of becoming more involved with the local church and was keen to spread the good news. Maybe he really had seen the light, but the rest of the family was understandably sceptical of his motives.

Sue, as always, simply humoured him and even agreed to go with him to a service or whatever they called it. She had the backbone of a jellyfish when it came to Don, and I still couldn’t figure out why she didn’t stick up for herself more. Maybe she enjoyed being under his control, like some weird fetish.

I could relate to that. It’s what attracted me to Alex, although recently his temperament had cooled somewhat and he had been noticeably less aggressive. The injuries he sustained in the bust-up with his dad had limited his ability to intimidate people, and there were times when he looked quite vulnerable.

It was a relief for the rest of the family, and it spared me some bruises, but a part of me missed the old Alex, although I still didn’t understand why. There was no doubt he was a better person now than when he was living on his own. The more pleasant he became, however, the less I was attracted to him, and it started to bother me.

Our relationship had taken a nosedive after I discovered his alleged covert friendship with Nathan, but this wasn’t the only reason. Like a rattlesnake without venom, he still looked scary but no longer posed the same threat, and without the element of danger, he wasn’t so appealing.

It was more proof of my depravity. Maybe Don was right about me after all. I was sure this type of sexual attraction wasn’t healthy and I did my best to keep it hidden. After all, I was supposed to be helping Alex become a better person not begrudging his transformation because it took away my fantasy.

*     *     *

Don and Sue left early on Sunday to test the waters at the local church. When they returned, I was still in my pyjamas watching television while the shirtless Alex and Daniel worked out in the makeshift basement gym. It was becoming a daily routine and part of Alex’s rehabilitation. It also provided my ultra-competitive brother with some serious competition, which he no longer got from me.

They had developed an unlikely alliance based mostly on sport and physical prowess, but I wasn’t overly comfortable with their testosterone-fuelled rivalry. I wasn’t sure if I was merely jealous of their friendship or being over-protective of my new brother, but I found their shirtless relationship a little creepy.

When Amy ran downstairs to tell me her mom and dad wanted to talk to me, I guessed what it was about and reluctantly dragged myself to the kitchen. I knew they would have questioned Mr Symmonds about my allegations and prepared myself for what I expected to be a firm denial.

As expected Don was unwilling to criticise a man recommended by the church and keen to give him a chance to redeem himself, but only it seemed with my permission.

I was shocked when he asked me if I was prepared to meet with the counsellor again later that week.

“You mean I have a choice?”

“Of course you do. I’m not going to force you to do it against your will or if you feel uncomfortable with him.”

It seemed most unlike Don to take other people’s opinions into consideration especially mine and I was understandably cautious, expecting a trap.

“So if I tell you I’m not comfortable talking to this guy then I don’t have to see him anymore, is that what you're saying?”

“That’s right. There wouldn’t be much point, would there? It’s supposed to be for your benefit. It’s not a punishment, Robbie.” He gave me a pat on the back and laughed as if it were obvious he would never do anything to my detriment.

“Well, in that case, I don’t want to see him.” I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded defiantly as I waited for him to revoke my request with some hidden clause or add impossible conditions which he knew I wouldn’t be able to meet.

“Good for you,” he said. “I agree; I’ve seen a marked improvement in your mood these last couple of days You're a lot less argumentative. Maybe you don’t need counselling after all.”

Now I understood. I knew exactly what he was doing. I should’ve realised. As much as he joked about it not being a punishment, that was precisely what it was. Mr Symmonds wasn’t a counsellor, but an enforcer hired to keep me in line. His job was to scare me, and he had done a pretty good job of it, fooling everyone into thinking he was inept. Far from being disappointed with him, Don must have been over the moon with the results so far.

He was right, in the three days following my session with Mr Symmonds, I hadn’t had a single argument with them.

I had to hand it to him, this new tactic was far more effective than being grounded, which wasn’t working at all.

I decided to put my theory to the test.

“So I will never have to see him?”

“Not unless you start to feel unwell again. But you seem to be much better now, more like the old Robbie.”

I was convinced.

It was so obvious, and I was left wondering why no one was jumping down his throat. By not ruling out any future meetings with Mr Symmonds, he was effectively leaving an axe dangling menacingly above my head. His message was clear. Behave yourself, or this is what you get.

It was blatant intimidation, but when I looked around for support, all I got were satisfactory smiles. Even Nicola was falling for his propaganda.

‘Am I the only one who can see what he’s doing’?

I stared into space, but I wanted to yell at him about how unfair he was being. If I needed any more proof, then surely this was it. I was openly capitulating, replacing my anger with an embarrassing silence. It was exactly what he wanted to hear, and he gave me another hearty laugh as he patted me on the head and told me to go and get dressed.

I was surprised he didn’t throw me a bone!

*     *     *

After my suspension, it was a relief to get back to school and waiting to greet me on Monday with a smile as wide as his face, was my ever dependable friend Rory.

“You missed an important week,” he said. “There’s a lot of work for you to catch up on, but I don’t mind helping.” Rory was in most of my classes that year and had been taking extra notes for me in English, history, and geography. On the way to class, we stopped at his locker so he could show me what he had done. There were several pages all handwritten and neatly laid out with underlined headers. It must have taken him ages to do, and I was suitably impressed.

“You did all of this for me?”

“It’s just a brief outline of what you missed. You're still gonna need to do some extra studying, and you’ll probably get a load more homework too.” He stopped talking when he realised I wasn’t paying attention. Instead of looking at the work he had done I was staring at him and smiling, overwhelmed by his friendship and kindness.

I couldn’t imagine anyone else doing that. It made me understand how much he cared about me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Rory. It’s really cool of you to do this. You didn’t have to.” I was lost for words; I found it difficult to believe he did all this extra work for me, without me even asking. “I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” I insisted, even though there wasn’t much I could do to pay him back. If he hadn’t been so straight, I could have thought of some excellent, mouth-watering ways to show my gratitude, but I wasn’t even allowed to give him a quick man hug. He gently pushed me away when I tried to put my arm around his shoulder.

“You can’t do that,” he said. “Not in school anyway.” Then he apologised. “It’s just that people have been talking and I don’t want to give them any reason to spread any more rumours about me.”

Rory, although quite sensitive, wasn’t usually this concerned by gossip, so it had to be bad.

“What are they saying?”

“It’s not just about me. It’s about you as well.” He handed me a neatly folded note, which I read on our way to homeroom. “Someone put that in my locker,” he said. “It’s nasty.”

One man’s meat is another man’s poison, as my mom used to say and this was a perfect example. I was expecting to see the usual hate-filled, homophobic trite, but it was quite the opposite.

“Bloody hell. Who wrote this?”

“If I knew who it was I’d report him.”

‘If I knew who it was I’d pay him to write some more’.

Whoever the author was, he or maybe even she had a definite talent for writing porn. I was impressed by this very explicit, and well-worded account of our friendship.

“This is amazing.”

The note basically accused Rory of sucking my dick and humping my rear end, and while I wouldn’t have objected to either, it was total conjecture. Nothing annoyed me more than being falsely accused of something I wanted to do but couldn’t. This, however, was a work of art and I was prepared to make an exception.

I read it three times and asked if I could keep it, but was sadly denied. Rory, unable to understand my level of depravity assumed I was going to do something stupid like hand it in.

I found it difficult, to share his disgust, and while I would have been tempted to frame the note and hang it above my bed, he shredded it into tiny pieces and threw it in the garbage.

As I walked into our homeroom, Fran pulled me aside and discreetly pointed to my crotch.

“Who are you pleased to see?”

“What? Oh, hmm. Thanks.” I shielded myself with my books and quickly headed for the safety of my desk before anyone else noticed.

‘That was Rory’s fault. Him and his sexy note’.

I felt sorry for my best friend. He was obviously starting buckle under the strain of being labelled gay, and I wasn’t helping. At school he had become my constant companion, filling a void left by Nathan with predictable consequences.

Almost everyone thought we were boyfriends, even some of the staff, like our English and homeroom teacher, Mrs Reigor. She made us sit on opposite sides of the classroom, before confiding with me afterwards.

“I want you to pay more attention to the lesson and less attention to Rory. I understand how exciting it is to have a boyfriend, but save your romance for after school, please.”

I was amused by her assumption and didn’t bother trying to correct her. If anything, I found it quite complimentary and liked the fact that she thought we were together. Robbie and Rory sounded cool. I could get used to it.

My best friend, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so taken and I knew if the rumours persisted, he would be forced to keep away from me while in school, handing victory to the haters.

I should have realised how our friendship would be perceived by the numbskull minority within the school whose lives were dependent on gossip and slander.

They were encouraged by his effeminate nature, which most regarded as a certain sign of homosexuality. Even I was fooled in the beginning, but now I knew better and regretted my stupidity.

There was a big difference between him and Nathan, who was more flamboyant and camp. My ex-boyfriend did it to get noticed. It was a statement. Rory, on the other hand, may have been feminine in some of his mannerisms, but it didn’t make him gay, and it wasn’t an act.

He didn’t paint his nails either or wear make-up and cover himself in bling. He was all boy, just with a few girl-like attributes, which suited him down to the ground. It made him unique and highly desirable, but his sexuality kept him frustratingly out of reach and consigned him to my darkest fantasies.

I sat with him, David, and Fran at lunchtime but my eyes, inevitably, kept drifting towards my ex-boyfriend. Nathan sat a few tables away and was sporting a new haircut. He looked sexy, but if he was trying to impress someone, it certainly wasn’t me.

He could see me glancing over but pretended not to notice, and when our eyes finally met, he turned his back on me without even the slightest acknowledgement.

I was hoping things would start to improve. There was no reason for him to hate me like this. All I did was walk away from him. We didn’t even have a real argument. He was the one who was supposedly messing around behind my back.

Nathan may have chosen to ignore me, but my not-so-subtle attempts to get his attention didn’t go unnoticed by Fran who walked with me to my next class.

“You want to get back with him don’t you?”

“I’m not sure?”

“That means yes.”

“I do miss him. Maybe I didn’t think it through properly. Daniel said I hurt him, but I can’t figure out how. I didn’t do anything.”

“Why don’t you just talk to him and explain?”

“He's not exactly very responsive at the moment. I dunno, what if he’s already seeing someone else?” She stopped in the corridor and looked at me with folded arms.

“You won’t know unless you talk to him. If he tells you to take a hike, then at least you tried. There’s nothing more you can do, except drive yourself crazy over it.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“No, I don’t talk to Nathan. He’s not my friend.”

I thought her comments were a little harsh. “But he’s done nothing to you.”

She looked into my eyes and shook her head. “He stole my boyfriend. Did you forget about that?”

She sounded bitter. I wasn’t expecting her to still be upset. We weren’t together for very long, and there was a good reason for me to end it. It’s not like I left her for someone else. Even though that was basically what happened.

“Are you still angry at me?”

“No.”

“It sounded like it.”

“I got David now,” she said. “He makes me happy. You weren’t that difficult to get over.”

“That’s nice to know… I think.”

She laughed, but I knew to keep her happy was a full-time job and David, lately, had been showing signs of fatigue. I didn’t envy him, but while I knew it was possible to have too much of a good thing, it was better than having nothing at all. I was now in the latter category, with nothing on the horizon.

Fran never seemed to miss an opportunity to brag about her sex life with David.

‘Does she think I’m jealous, is that it’?

She still didn’t get it. If anything, I was jealous of her, not David!

“Don’t be sad,” she said. “You’ll always be special to me. Because you were my first.” She winked, but it wasn’t much of a compliment.

‘I guess David’s a lot better than me’.

I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that a straight guy was better at pleasing a girl than I was. Even a pretty girl like Fran wasn’t particularly nice looking between the legs, and I did my best to avoid the area altogether.

“What are you doing for Halloween?” asked Fran.

“Nothing, why?”

“Why don’t you come to my house? My parents always throw a party, and I get to invite whoever I want.”

It seemed a little odd to be going to an ex-girlfriend’s party, and I wasn’t sure how I would be received by her parents, but Fran was insistent.

“I dunno, will your parents be okay with that.”

“I doubt it. My dad will probably have you bumped off if he finds out you're there, but he won’t know because you’ll be in fancy dress.”

I stopped in the hallway outside our class and stared at her. “It’s not funny, Fran.” I should never have mentioned to her that I was once convinced her family were part of the mafia.

“It’ll be fun; you can even bring along Rory if you want.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that remark or whether Rory would risk being seen with me at a social event, but I decided to ask him anyway.

Before I could say anything else, I was interrupted and verbally abused by a girl I had never seen before.

“You've got it coming, fag boy!” she barked as she barged past me in the corridor. At first, I thought she was talking to someone else and looked around, but she was pointing directly at me. Then as she walked away, she gave me the finger.

“What was that about?” asked Fran. “Do you know her?”

“I have that effect on some people. It’s part of being a celebrity around here. She probably wants to sleep with me.”

“If she does, she’s gonna be disappointed,” said Fran.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I stared at my ex-girlfriend and then at the nasty looking girl walking along the corridor. She made me shudder. Whoever she was I wouldn’t have wished her on my worst enemy.

The guy who once occupied that position was the next person to make me jump, grabbing me around the neck in a painful embrace. I was about to lash out before realising who it was.

“Whoa, put those fists away,” he said. “I quite like my front teeth.”

“Very funny, Alex.”

He was in a good mood as he squeezed between Fran and me. “Are you guys getting back together?”

“No!” we said in unison.

“Oh yeah,” he said, looking at me. “You're gay now, so you won't mind me talking to your ex-girlfriend.” He pushed me away and put his arm around Fran, who wasn’t happy with the attention and squirmed away. “Aw, don’t be like that. I was gonna ask you out on a date.”

“I already have a boyfriend, thank you.”

“What David. He’s a jerk. Not quite as big a jerk as Robbie here though.” He punched me on my arm to prove his point.

Alex was back to being Alex and showing all the attributes which I used to hate about him, but at the same time found so enticing.

I had to keep reminding myself that this was all just an act developed over time in the interest of self-preservation. He wasn’t a natural asshole like his dad; he was choosing to be one so he could look good to his asshole friends. The trouble was, he played the part so well, it was impossible to believe he was anything other than a mindless bully. I think he even had himself fooled.

I knew different, of course, but I was probably the only one. There was no way the fake Alex would have allowed another boy to bathe him and dress him every day, or sleep in the same bed as him. He would never let another boy see him cry either, or admit to having feelings for him. These were secrets which would remain with me, his one true friend and still the only person he trusted.

*     *     *

Our final lesson that day was history. It was one of my favourite subjects, but as I followed Rory into the classroom, the teacher pulled me aside.

“You're gonna have a lot of catching up to do Robbie.” Then he handed me an exemption note and told me I had to report to the principal’s office. I had been expecting it all day.

The reception was empty with no sign of Miss Pringle. I wasn’t allowed into the admin section without her authorisation, so I waited, fidgeting nervously and ringing the bell on the counter several times until I got a response. Her shrill voice could penetrate most barriers, and I heard her complaining long before she exited the staff kitchen.

“Stop ringing the bell!” When she saw me, she stopped and narrowed her eyes. “You again. I might have guessed. What do you want?”

“Hello Miss Pringle, you're looking nice today.” She ignored my sardonic compliment and took a deep breath before taking her place on the other side of the counter. Then she pushed her glasses up her pointed nose and looked me in the eye.

“This is my first coffee,” she said quietly. “I haven’t stopped all day.”

I looked around, unsure of how to reply. “I’ve come to see the principal.”

“I know why you're here, Fullerton!” she snapped making me jump.

“Actually, it’s Taylor now,” I replied in a hushed voice. “Fullerton‘s my old name.”

She stared at me, annoyed that I had dared to contradict her. “Wait here,” she said sternly before disappearing through the double doors behind her to the staff offices.

I shook my head and looked around the empty reception. There was a big houseplant in a giant pot next to the desk, which always grabbed my attention. It nearly reached the ceiling and looked out of place in the brightly coloured room. After a quick look around to make sure no one was watching, I reached behind the counter, picked up her mug and tipped the contents into the pot beside me. Then placed the empty cup back where it was.

Probably the last thing that out of control plant needed was a shot of caffeine, but it wasn’t doing Miss Pringle any good either, and I saw it more like a mission of mercy. When she returned, I was looking out the window.

“Mr Andrews will see you now—Taylor!”

The door to the principal’s office was already open, but I knocked anyway, then closed it behind me when he told me to take a seat. Waiting with his back to me, reading from a folder was a familiar old man in a crumpled suit who I knew simply as Walter. He looked over his glasses at me and smiled as I sat down next to him.

“Hello, young man. You look a lot better than when I last saw you.”

“Hello, Walter.” I smiled back at him then glanced across the desk at Mr Andrews wondering how they knew each other. There was an awkward silence before the principal spoke.

“It’s good to have you back at school. But for future reference, if anyone harasses you again, then please tell a teacher. You don’t need to punch them.”

“I’m sorry. I lost my temper.”

“Are you being bullied?” asked Walter.

“No, it was just some boy trying to wind me up.”

“Sounds like he succeeded”

“I hit him, but I got suspended.” I looked accusingly at the principal.

“We had no choice,” added Andrews. “The kid lost his front tooth.”

“I didn’t mean to do that. He provoked me.” Then I turned towards Walter. “It was a sexually motivated, homophobic, attack.” I was serious, but he seemed to find it amusing and shared a brief smile with Mr Andrews.

“The boy concerned has been cautioned,” explained the principal. “We could have done more if Robbie hadn’t decided to take matters into his own hands.”

He was speaking to Walter but looking at me, and I wondered how many times I would be reminded of my faux pas. I had already served my suspension and as far as I knew, Don was paying the kid’s dental bill.

“Why are you here?” I asked Walter. “I mean at my school. Do you guys know each other?”

I thought it was a legitimate question to ask, but it was Mr Andrews who answered for him.

“Actually, Walter and I have known each other for a long time. He was the head of the department when I worked for the social services in Toronto.”

It meant nothing to me and still didn’t explain why he was there, although I could guess what it was about.

“I was concerned about your safety after reading in the local papers that you went missing,” said Walter. “You told me you were going to Toronto, so I contacted the police to alert them.”

“But I didn’t go there.”

“I’m not perfect,” he said, and I smiled. “So how’s your boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, but you were telling me about him.”

“Nathan, you mean. We split up.”

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Is this connected with what’s going on at home?”

“What do you mean?”

Mr Andrews interrupted. “Robbie, we know that you’ve been having difficulties at home. Don spoke to me about arranging for you to see a counsellor.”

I looked at him warily, trying to read between the lines. He obviously hadn’t called me to the office to discuss my love life. “That’s not why we split up.”

Walter smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “That happens to us all, I’m afraid. The good news is; you have plenty of time to find yourself another boyfriend.” I tried my best to return his smile, but it disappeared completely when I heard his next question.

“How did your counselling session go on Friday with Mr Symmonds?”

He may have noticed me shrinking into the seat when he mentioned his name. I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want to create any more problems for myself or give Don an excuse to make me see him again.

“It was okay, I suppose.”

Walter looked a little surprised. “Did he help at all?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, did you feel any better afterwards?”

“No, not really.”

“I didn’t think so. Look, Robbie. You can tell us what he said, it makes no difference. We’re here to help you, and I know Mr Symmonds isn’t going to do that.”

“He works for the church,” I said.

“Yes, I know. What else do you know about his religion?”

“Not much. Don went there yesterday with Sue, and he’s been trying to talk us into going with him.”

Walter shook his head despairingly. “You do know that they don’t believe in homosexuality?”

“No, Don never told me that.”

“They believe it’s wrong to be gay, but I’m not here to criticise their faith. It’s Mr Symmonds who worries me. He’s messed up quite a few kids over the years, and I expect that’s what he’ll try to do to you.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine and gave me even more reason to fear the man who Don would set loose on me if I didn’t fall into line. I must have looked worried before Mr Andrews snapped me out of my trance.

“It’s called conversion therapy, Robbie. What he’s doing is against the law. This is why I turned down his request to use the school facilities.”

“What did he say to you?” asked Walter.

“Not much, I didn’t want to talk, and we ended up arguing.”

I could see them exchanging glances, and Mr Andrews looked concerned.

“What did you argue about?”

I didn’t like where this was going. It was starting to feel like an interrogation.

“Look, it doesn’t matter. Don’s already told me I don’t have to see him again. I don’t care about Mr Symmonds, and I don’t want to keep talking about him. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“We’re not saying there’s anything wrong with you,” said Mr Andrews. “Quite the opposite.”

“I was concerned when Symmonds’ name came up,” said Walter. “I’m glad your parents weren’t fooled by him. He can be very persuasive.”

Mr Andrews was a little more sceptical. “Did Don cancel the sessions?”

“Sort of.”

“He either did, or he didn’t, Robbie.” He spoke quietly, but his question still demanded an answer which I wasn’t prepared to give. They weren’t the ones who would have to deal with the consequences, should any of this get back to Don.

I just wanted them to leave me alone. I was doing okay on my own. I didn’t need their help. All it would do was make things worse.

Instead of answering I withdrew into my shell and stared at the floor, trying to block out their voices. Walter was a good man, and so was Mr Andrews but they didn’t understand my position or realise the potential damage they were doing. I had an unofficial agreement with Don, and I was determined to keep to it. All I had to do was stop arguing with them and being disruptive, and they would leave me alone. It was simple. I could do that and still be happy.

“Can I go now? I’m missing my lesson.”

I wanted to get out of there. I was starting to feel hot and nervous.

The principal smiled at me and leaned back in his chair.

“I’ll call Don and let him know I’ve talked to you and I want you to let me know if the situation changes.” Then he leaned forward across his desk to study my face. “Are you okay, you don’t look well.”

I didn’t feel well. I was shaking again and sweating. “I’m fine, can I go now, please!”

“Are you sure, you look very red?”

That’s when I lost my temper. Once again, without warning, I just snapped.

“It’s you people who are making me sick. I just wanna get outta here. Can’t you see what you're doing? Why can’t everyone just leave me alone? I hate all these questions!” I wanted to scream or break something. Instead, I dug my fingers into my leg until it hurt and screwed up my face in pain.

I was frustrated and angry at their lack of understanding. When I lifted my head, Walter looked concerned. He was speaking to me but his words no longer coordinated with is mouth movements, like a badly dubbed movie.

I was burning up.

‘What’s wrong with me’?

When I tried to stand up, I felt dizzy and couldn’t breathe.

I could hear Mr Andrews calling for the nurse as the room started to spin.

Then I must have passed out.