Young, Gay and Scared - 2. Chapter 2

"Hey mum, I'm home and starving. What's to eat . . . "

Ryan, as usual, raced in from school, closed the front door with a bang, and then stopped suddenly. In the hallway, his mother lay on her side with her arm outstretched clasping an empty pill bottle. She was unconscious. For at least ten seconds he just stood there in shock, dumbfounded at the sight and unable to process the scene. Then his subconscious goaded him into action.

Where was nanna?

"Nanna, nan, where are you. Oh my god nanna where are you?"

He raced through the house only to find it empty. Then he remembered it was a Wednesday, and his nanna went to Bingo at the Catholic Church, usually didn't get home before 5:30 ^pm. He returned to his mother and not knowing how to take a pulse, he just kept shaking his mum who was out cold. He couldn't detect any sign of breathing and he panicked. His mother maintained a book on the phone table in the hall, with all important phone numbers. His hands shaking, he clumsily thumbed through the pages looking for emergency numbers. He started to sob in frustration until he came across a number for the local ambulance.

By now, he was frantic: waves of panic coursed through him as he dialled the number. Eventually,

"Hello, Ambulance Station. State your emergency."

"Oh Jesus (sob), it's me, mum. I think . . . she's gone and kilt herself. Please hurry . . . (sob) please hurry mister . . . (Choke) I dunno what to do . . . oh, Jesus help me . . . please hurry!"

"All right lad stay calm . . . "

"How can I be calm, mister, me mums lyin here dead like and yer askin me to be calm . . . I'm only twelve, and I . . . "

"All right lad, what's your address? Where do you live?"

"Umm . . . err . . . I think, yeah umm . . . (sob) 16 Simpson Street, Harbord. Not far from the Dam. Can yer hurry please; I don't think she's breathin? Oh shit . . . please god, don't let her die (crying softly). I'm sorry mum . . . "

"What's your name son?"

"Eh . . . err, Ryan yeah, Ryan."

"All right Ryan, an ambulance is on the way and should be there within ten minutes. Can you tell me what happened? Take your time."

"I dunno what happened? (crying) I jest got home from school and found her . . . dead like with an empty pill bottle. Oh, sweet Jesus, she's gone and kilt herself (crying softly) I dunno what to do. Oh, Jesus mum, why'd ya have t'do it."

'OK, Ryan just stay with your mother and keep talking to me. Don't think bad thoughts, wait for the Ambos[1] get there. You're a brave boy Ryan and you've done real well, you've been very brave. Is there someone you can contact - perhaps your father?"

"Nah (sob) he's at work and I dunno where he is . . . out on some job somewhere . . . he's a plumber. There's me Nan but she's at bingo down the local church . . . "

"Is that the local Catholic church?"

"Yeah . . . "

"That's Ok. What's her name - her name Ryan if you can remember it."

"Umm . . . Merle, yeah Merle Fitzgerald . . . why?"

'We'll contact her so don't you worry anymore. Help's on the way. You've been a good boy Ryan, you should be proud of yourself. Can you hear the ambulance siren yet?"

"Yeah, . . . yeah, I can, thanks."

"All right now go out front and wait for the Ambos to pull up. They know what to do, so leave it in their hands. Off you go now - and Ryan . . . good lad."

The ambulance drew up outside, and the Ambos quickly exited with their emergency paraphernalia; at Ryan's urging, they rushed into the house. Clare Seaton was still lying on her side and it appeared to Ryan she hadn't moved. Quickly they checked her vitals . . . and sat back confused. There was nothing really wrong with her. Her pulse was normal, her heartbeat normal, her breathing normal. Except for being in a deep sleep, she was normal. What the hell was going on?

The senior ambo, James looked at Ryan and announced,

'She'll be OK lad, she seems to be OK. We'll take her to hospital and pump her stomach just to be on the safe side, but she's OK."

He'd buoyed himself up to expect the worst, and now he simply let go; it was like letting the air out of a balloon. Sobbing uncontrollably, he sagged at the knees before collapsing into James's partner's arms. He was out cold. Ryan was now in a far more serious condition than his mother, so they rushed to treat him. Fearing the onset of shock, they administered to him in an effort to allay any further serious deterioration. Then he was securely wrapped in a warm blanket, placed on a stretcher, and transported with his mother to hospital. He was so far out to it he couldn't even enjoy the sound of the emergency siren.

When Merle got the news at Bingo, she became frantic and a friend offered to drive her home. On arriving, the neighbours informed her that both Ryan and his mother had been taken to hospital. She was confused, no one had said anything about Ryan being ill, so she asked the same friend if he could drive her to the hospital. She was understandably upset.

On arriving, she was told that her daughter was resting comfortably but her grandson was still in a coma in intensive care. What the hell was going on? She demanded answers at the duty nurse's station.

"I'm the boy's Grandmother and I insist I speak to someone who'll tell me what's happening! I was only told that my daughter had apparently taken an overdose and was being rushed to hospital. What then, is my Grandson doing here in Intensive care? Will someone please tell me what's happening."

"Look . . .?"

"Merle, Merle Fitzgerald!"

"Mrs Fitzgerald, all I know is that your grandson, Ryan, was brought in with his mother in the same ambulance. He's apparently suffered some form of collapse. That's all I know for now . . . "

"Can I at least see him? He's only a small boy; if anything happens to him, I'll never forgive myself for not being with him when he got sick. Please, I've got to see him!"

"Just a moment."

The nurse made a phone call, relaying Merle's request and waited for a reply. When she hung up, she addressed Merle in a kind voice,

"The doctor said it's OK. He's in Intensive care on the second floor. Just go to the nurse's station and give your name."

Hurriedly, Merle found the Intensive Care Unit and the senior nurse told her that Ryan was in the last bed on the right. When Merle saw him, she felt like crying. Ryan was unconscious, with wires going from his body and connected up to monitors overhead. He looked pitiful. With nothing else to do, she just held his hand and let her thoughts wander.

I've got to find the underlying cause of this. Clare's obviously done something to the boy and he's ended up like this. The marriage is a disaster and the child's at risk. But what can I do? I can go live with my son - he knows how bad the situation is - but I can't leave Ryan alone with them. NO, I've got to stay if only for the lad's sake. Look at him, just lying there with all those damn wires attached. Breaks my heart. First off, I'll have to find out about my daughter. Someone is going to tell me what happened with her or my names not Merle Fitzgerald.

Further enquiries led her to her daughter's bedside. She was sleeping peacefully, snoring quietly, and looked rested. Just then a doctor came up,

"Umm you're the women's mother I hear (Merle nodded) Can you answer a few questions please?"

"Not until I get some answers from you. I want to know exactly what happened. Why is my daughter lying here asleep whilst my grandson is in Intensive Care? I'll not move until I get some straight answers."

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2.2

Slowly Ryan emerged from his light coma and, not knowing where he was, became terrified.

Where am I? What's that monotonous sound? What are all these wires for? Why is everything so dim? Is this hell?

"Welcome back, young fella. Can you tell me your name please?"

'(Slowly) Umm . . . err, Ryan . . . me names Ryan. Where am I?"

"You're in Manly Hospital, you're OK, but I want you to lie still whilst we disconnect some of these wires."

Slowly the kind face of a young doctor emerged, and Ryan turned his head to watch as some wires were removed from his head and chest. Thankfully, the annoying beeping stopped.

"What happened? Where's me mum? (And then he remembered) Where is she? Is she ok? Please . . . (frightened) is she dead?"

'No, she's fine Ryan. Nothing for you to worry about. We're more worried about you; you gave us a real fright, passing out like that. You're OK now; the instruments all show normal vital signs, so there's nothing to worry about. Just rest and regain your strength. Are you hungry?"

Yes, he was, so the doctor arranged for a plate of jelly and ice cream to be brought in. This was devoured with gusto. But the area was spooky. All around him were patients - mostly oldies - hooked up to wires with machines blinking and making the same sounds that he's heard before. He wanted out, to go home to familiar surroundings, so he called out.

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2.3

" . . . so, to sum up, we believe she only took 5 tablets, enough to put her to sleep but in no way was there any danger to her life. It looks like she faked her attempted suicide with someone in mind as the target. It could only have been her son, Ryan. Mrs Fitzgerald, this becomes a concern when a minor is deemed to be at risk. It . . . "

"Ryan at risk! You think my grandson is at risk from my daughter, his own mother?"

"Yes, we do. Have there been any other instances, where she's tried emotional blackmail - if you'll pardon the term - directed at her son? We need you to be frank with us Mrs Fitzgerald, for your grandson's benefit. By the way, my field is Psychiatry and I'm concerned for your daughter's mental health."

Merle sat back and stared at the Doctor in utter disbelief and horror. In the 1950's mental health problems were highly embarrassing and a social stigma. There never had been any hint of insanity in Merle's family and the thought her own daughter might be mad was horrifying. Then she remembered that last month Clare took off leaving a note for Ryan saying she was leaving her unhappy life and going to live somewhere else. The note was dripping with emotional torture.

Again, coming in from school Ryan found the note and in panic rode around and around on his bike looking for his mother. She was eventually found, sitting at a bus stop for which services had finished for the day.

Merle was now faced with a dilemma. She couldn't tell the doctor what happened, as surely, he'll commit her daughter to an asylum. Even though she's not well, she was still her daughter and she had to protect her.

But did she have the right to protect her if she's going to cause harm to her grandson? No grandmother should have to face such a dilemma. She needed to decide but couldn't, shouldn't and wouldn't.

"You’re very quiet Mrs Fitzgerald. I repeat, have there been any other instances of abnormal behaviour by your daughter?”

"No, of course not. Until today, she's been a wonderful mother and wife. I don't know what happened to her today. Perhaps she had an argument with her husband; I don't pry into affairs involving my daughter's marriage."

The doctor nodded but remained unconvinced. Clare Seaton was discharged about 6 ^pm the same day, whereas Ryan was kept in overnight and discharged the next day.

It's easy to be wise after an event but as time would show, a vital danger-sign had been ignored.

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2.4

On the Saturday following, Ryan met Tommo at the bus stop and they ambled through the bush to their swimming spot at the dam. On the way, they talked of nothing but Ryan's ordeal.

"Geeze mate that's a real 'orrible story. I can't believe yer mum would do that t'yer. Mums are 'sposed to be caring and loving and protective. Your mum sure ain't any of those. I hate to say it boyo but she's not a nice mum. What're ya gonna do?"

"Well I can't rubbish her; maybe she's sick and needs help. She's still me mum Tommo and I can't bring meself to hate her. What she done weren't good, but what do I know about adult's problems. I don't reckon she'd do it on purpose just for no reason. At least I gotta think that."

"Yeah, I suppose ya gotta. Shit mate, I'se glad it's you not me."

By now, they reached the little cove and sat watching over the water. It was much too cold to go swimming, so they sat together with bodies touching. Ryan had spent hours going over what happened, but nothing made sense. His mother had said she was sorry but effectively turned the whole matter back on herself. It was all about how unhappy she was and how miserable her life was. She didn't seem to understand the trauma she'd caused her son. His father was blunt.

"If you do that again to Ryan I'll give you a good kick up the arse. You really are something Clare Seaton, something really disgusting." He hid his own emotions in booze.

Ryan was scared. As a kid, he needed to feel secure and know that his parents or extended family were looking after him. When he confronted his situation, only his Nanna could be relied on for support, and she was very old, in her late sixties. If she died, he'd have no one. His uncle Bob had his own family and problems; he wouldn't need an extra mouth and another responsibility.

I don't the fuck know what to do? Me old man's too fond of the booze to rely upon and I don't think he cares for me. Me mum's a head case and bloody useless. I get the feelin' that she wants me to look after her. She's often said that I'se the only one she can rely on. Geeze what a mess. Me nan might be a religious nut, but I reckon she loves me in her way. Nah, she's old and could croak at any time. Shit, what a mess.

"What's on yer mind kiddo?"

Needing to confide in someone, he started to pour his heart out to Tommo, and, suddenly, the dam broke. He started deep wrenching sobs that shook his whole body. Tommo held him close and was almost as upset as Ryan.

"Geeze (sob) Tommo, I don't know what to do (crying quietly) I'm all alone, there ain't anyone I can turn to for help. I'm an orphan just about. It's a bloody mess . . . "

"Sshhh; I'm here for you Ryan. I won't let anything happen to you, (putting his arm around Ryan's narrow shoulders) cry as much as you want, ya deserve it. I reckon yer family's been real bad t'ya mate. Go on cry a bit. Let it out."

Without any planning, Tommo leaned his head closer and kissed Ryan on the temple. It was a gentle kiss, full of concern and brotherly love. Ryan showed his appreciation by placing his arm around Tommo's waist and squeezing.

Ryan felt peaceful; it was so warm and cozy sitting here with their arms around each other. This small drop of kindness, this small gesture of support, this enjoyable physical contact, calmed Ryan even more so than the drug the Ambos gave him. Then Tommo,

“Hey Ryan, can we be blood brothers?”

“Wadda ya mean, blood brothers?”

“Here I’ll show you.”

With that, Tommo took a penknife out of his pocket and with a sharp point pricked his middle finger making blood to flow. Then he took Ryan’s middle finger and did the same. With blood running, he squeezed their fingers together so that their bloods mixed. It was a powerful gesture and its meaning was not lost on Ryan.

The level of intimacy was such that Ryan felt his heart beating fast. He wanted nothing more than this peace to last forever. Also, a strange new feeling had coursed through him; he didn't know what it was, except it felt good.

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2.5

Ryan reached his secret spot and sat down on the lukewarm rock. It was several days after his meeting with Tommo and a beautifully fine day. Sydney's weather in winter can be magic at times with clear windless days giving sufficient sunshine to tempt the hardy into a swim.

However, Ryan wasn't interested in the weather, he'd come here to think because he was frightened. Since the moment with Tommo, he'd had sleepless nights, loss of appetite and confusion - lots of confusion. The more he thought, the more he became convinced. He became scared, and at the same time tried practising denial. He needed solitude to face his dread.

He was alone. He wouldn't jeopardize his friendships with Bluey and Tommo by telling them of his despair. He couldn't talk to his parents, because surely, they would blame each other for his sickness. His nanna was deeply religious, so any form of confession would only hurt the old girl. If he sought help from teachers at school, surely the word would leak, and he'd be endangered. Imagine what Bert Cree would do with the knowledge he was a queer. He thought about going to confession, but all that would do was give the priest an opportunity to vent and lecture him on mortal sins.

Alone, alone, and alone. The fear ebbed and flowed around him, never giving him peace. The thought of suicide came and went. He was made of stronger stuff.

No, he just had to survive in spite of his secret. He thought perhaps getting a girlfriend would cure him but deep down, in his heart of hearts, he knew this could never be.

. Sighing he thought again about Tommo.

I reckon I know what that good feeling I had with Tommo was. At least I think I know. At the same time, I don't want to know because it's scary and . . . and, bad. I wish it hadn't happened; it might've felt good but, at the same time, it can only mean one thing. I can neither face nor accept the reality of what it means. I . . . I'm gonna say it out loud now. I've gotta say it aloud.

"(Loudly) I was aroused."

There, I've said it. Yeah, aroused. I can remember feeling me cock starting to grow as we sat there cuddling and although I hate to admit it, I was excited. I've been close to sheilas before, but they never affected me like Tommo did. When he joined our two bleeding fingers together, I felt another rush. Maybe it's only because we're close friends and I'm lonely; maybe that's all it is. But as much as I've tried to deny it, I wanted more . . . more physical contact; something that involved me cock. Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph please help me; I can't be like this, I don't wanna be like this, I can't live like this. It's awful, it's painful, and it's deadly. I'll be killed, sure as anything. But I've gotta say it so's I can deal with it! (Long pause).

(Sob) "I'm a homo."

With that confrontation, Ryan began to cry softly. Although only twelve - now closer to thirteen - he knew how society treated homosexuals. This was 1950 and, in many countries, homosexuality was outlawed, and severe penalties imposed, including the death sentence. There was no respite. Even considering the legal aspect, society was hostile, the church preached outright condemnation, and amongst school kids, it was an invitation to physical violence. The medical profession treated homosexuality as a disease and offered only aversion therapy as a cure. Aversion therapy in the form of electric shocks and chemical experimentation. In England, convicted Homosexuals were given the choice of either jail or chemical castration.

It was a terrible time for a young boy to discover he's homosexual. And so, Ryan approached his thirteenth birthday and a brand-new school, damaged, fearful, and despairing. Fear became a constant companion at home, at school, and at play.