The Cockney Canuck - 114. Chapter 114 Welcome to Cobourg

“So what happened?”

“I told you, we went to the movies.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And what else?”

“Oh, you mean after?”

“Yes, yes, after. Tell me.”

“Well… we left the cinema and…. Oh, I’m gonna be late for my science class. I’ll have to tell you later.”

“Nooooo!”

Rory left me at my locker with a teasing smile and hurried toward the stairs. I wasn’t in his science class so I would have to wait until after school to find out what happened on his date with Rebecca.

I allowed myself a sly smile at my friend’s loveable antics. Rory had been walking on air all day, and I was truly happy for him. At last, it seemed, he had been dealt a winning hand, and now it was me who was chasing him for morsels of info.

‘Rory’s got a love life. Yippee’!

The corridors were emptying, and I needed to get to my own class or face possible detention after a build-up of late attendances. I grabbed my books, shut my locker, and ran in the opposite direction.

Straight into Nathan!

It was bound to happen sooner or later. Walking the same corridors at the same times every day. We often passed each other, but this time, with my head down and mind elsewhere, I ran right into him.

He dropped his books and nearly went with them. Then we both froze, inches apart, staring at each other before I backed away.

I apologised like I would to anyone I nearly knocked over and then accidentally head-butted him as we bent down at the same time to pick up his books.

“Ouch. What are you doing?” He straightened up rubbing his forehead and checking his hand for blood.

“Sorry, it was an accident.” I handed him his books, and he snatched them off me and held them against his chest.

“I know it was an accident. You should watch where you're going.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he said. “Of course, I’m okay.” He wouldn’t look at me though, and when he tried to walk away, I tugged his sleeve to stop him.

“No, I mean are you okay in general.”

He looked annoyed and stared straight ahead. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno, I just wondered that’s all. We can still talk you know.”

“There’s nothing I need to talk to you about.”

“Nathan, at least look at me.” I let go of his arm, and he reluctantly turned to face me with a steely glare.

“What do you want?”

“Can we talk.”

“No, I’m already late for class.”

“Not now. I mean after school one day.”

He thought about it for a couple of seconds and then walked away. “I have to go.”

“Nathan, please.”

‘Fuck you then’!

I watched him until he reached the end of the corridor where he stopped, turned and glanced back at me before disappearing around the corner.

He looked sad and lacked the usual spring in his step that I was so used to seeing. It was a far cry from the cute and vibrant boy who less than a year earlier burst into my life and turned it upside down. The boy who coaxed me out of the closet and held my hand as we walked across the crowded beach, and who I was so excited to call my boyfriend.

It was the first time we had spoken in over a month and our first physical contact. I only bumped into him, but it was enough for me to pick up his familiar scent. A unique smell which I had grown accustomed to having around me, but had since forgotten about. It stayed with me all the way to my next class and with it came a stream of flashbacks, like a mini-montage of our time together.

Not all of the memories were good, but like his smell, I was reluctant to let them go. The truth was, I really missed him, and it was pointless pretending otherwise. It wasn’t just the physical aspect. There was a lot more to our relationship than sex. I missed the fun we used to have together. The nonsensical conversations, double entendres, and naughty seaside humour, which only we seemed to find funny.

His zany expressions, late night phone calls, and his comical and often inappropriate use of Cockney slang.

I wondered if I would ever be able to find the same connection with someone else or would I spend the rest of my life regretting recent decisions. It probably wasn’t the best of foundations to be building a new relationship on, but Nathan continued to occupy my mind, and later that day, I received a text message from him. I was at Rory’s house playing on his Xbox and was surprised to see my ex-boyfriend’s name flash up on the screen, asking me to call him.

I wasted no time.

“Hi, it’s me, Robbie.”

“I know who you are,” he tutted at my awkwardness. “I haven’t got around to deleting your number yet.” I treated it as a joke, but it probably wasn’t, and he didn’t laugh. “Well, what did you wanna say?”

“You asked me to call you.”

“You said this afternoon that you wanted to talk to me. Well, what did you wanna say?”

“Oh, I was kinda hoping we could meet up and talk, you know face to face,” I said, and he sighed and kept me waiting like I was really putting him out. “It doesn’t matter if you're too busy.”

“Where.”

“Anywhere.”

“That’s not a real place,” he said. “Tell me a real place, and we can meet on Sunday.”

“Okay, Sunday’s good, how about the mall?” I thought it would be a good place to meet on a cold November day. He liked the mall, and it wasn’t far from where he lived.

It was a good choice, and his tone became slightly less abrasive. “That’s good, I need to go there anyway,” he said, and we agreed to meet at midday.

I sat down on Rory’s bed and let out a deep breath as he watched me curiously.

“Are you meeting up with Nathan?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I suppose. It’s none of my business.”

Sometimes Rory was just too polite. “I don’t mind you asking me questions, Rory. Is it because I’m seeing Conner tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“I only want to talk to Nathan, that’s all. It’s not a date, and I’m not trying to get back with him or anything. I just need to talk to him and clear the air.”

“What are you gonna say?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Rory looked puzzled, and I couldn’t blame him. “You mean, you need to talk to him, but you don’t know what about.”

“Something like that.” I gave him a shove, and he fell onto his side giggling. “Don’t look at me like that, I know it doesn’t make sense.”

He laughed. “So you haven’t even been on your first date yet, and you're already cheating on Conner.”

“Don’t be such a dick, I’m not cheating on anyone.”

“Whatever, it was a joke. Do you wanna re-start the game?”

“Yes. I just wanna make sure he’s okay, that’s all.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Let’s get on with the game.”

“Daniel told me he was upset and I want us to be on good terms. That’s important to me. I’m really hoping we can still be friends.”

Rory paused the game again. “I was really hoping we could finish this game.”

I returned his smile. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“Are you sure you're ready?”

“Yes, go on,” I said, but I wasn’t able to concentrate. “Do you think it’s a bad idea, to meet up with Nathan.”

Rory put his control down and fell back on his bed laughing and looking at the ceiling.

“I think you need to decide want you want. If you want to get back with Nathan, then do it, but let Conner know.”

“I don’t wanna get back with him. Of course, I don’t wanna get back with him. Bloody hell, Rory. It’s not like that. Your totally wrong, it’s not like that at all.”

He sat up on his elbows and looked me in the eye. “I think you protest too much.”

‘What’s that supposed to mean’.

*     *     *

Only Nicola knew where I was going the following morning when I took a cab to the waterfront. I was hoping for a nice day, but the forecast was rain, and dark clouds already hung ominously overhead. I was disappointed but determined not to allow the weather to interfere with my plans to show Conner around my adopted hometown.

We agreed to meet at the beginning of the pier that separated the harbour from the beach. I was early, and Conner was bang on time, stepping out of a brand new, white Dodge pick-up that dwarfed his teenage frame. I guess there was a lot of money in farming, but it looked too clean to be a work vehicle.

He was wearing a blue raincoat with a hood and black slacks. It suited him better than the monkey costume, and I was finally able to check out his body. He was thinner than I expected and looked a little younger in boy’s clothes. He waved at me from across the road before saying goodbye to his mom, who glanced over and smiled. The resemblance was uncanny, but I was relieved to see her drive away.

“Welcome to Cobourg,” I said. “Where your dreams come true.”

He laughed, unsure of what to think of my cheesy statement or how to greet me. Shaking hands would have been way too formal, but we didn’t know each other well enough for a hug or a kiss on the cheek. Instead, he bumped fists with me, proving that American culture had reached even the remote farmlands of outer Saskatchewan.

“Did you just make that up or is that the official slogan for this town?”

“I just made it up, but maybe it’s a bit optimistic.”

“It depends on what kind of dreams you have.” He raised his eyebrows at me and gave me a naughty smile.

“I suppose,” I chuckled, but I was definitely caught off-guard by his suggestive overtones and sexy grin. It ruined my narrative, and I struggled to get back on track.

‘Maybe he’s not as innocent as I first thought’.

“Well, err, this is the beach.”

“Nice. We don’t have that many beaches in Saskatchewan.”

“You don’t? No, I don’t suppose you do. It’s quite nice here in the summer, but not much fun in winter. As you can see, it’s empty. Do you wanna walk along the pier or go for a paddle?”

It was a nice try, but there was no way he was going to remove his shoes and socks for me that easily.

He laughed. “Maybe in the summer,” he said. I liked it that he was able to think that far ahead, even if it was a joke. I usually had trouble with anything further than a week away.

Conner was happy to do whatever I suggested and kept a smile on his face throughout my fairly unimpressive guided tour. I tried to add a bit of humour, taking a few well-deserved pot shots at the rather stuffy town I now called home.

“It’s the retirement capital of Ontario,” I said. “The average age here is a hundred and thirty, so don’t expect any wild beach parties. We get our kicks from bingo and line dancing. Pension days are always the best.”

“Well, it’s busy compared to where I live. There’s like three houses within walking distance. So things can get a little boring sometimes, but it was worse in Saskatchewan.”

“Did you have any friends there?”

“Sure, but they lived a long way. Unless you had a car, everything had to be arranged.”

I wasn’t sure if I would have liked that, but it probably would have suited Don, the control freak.

We circled the harbour—which now had less than half the boats it did in the summer—and then doubled back towards the park, stopping by the empty bandstand.

“How are you getting home today?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me already?” he asked and then smiled when I didn’t laugh. “I’m only kidding. My mom will come and collect me when I call her. She has to come back here to drop my sister off later. She’s meeting your friend again. I think they’re going bowling or something.”

Rory had already told me about his plans. “Twice in three days. They must like each other.”

“Becky thinks he’s really cool. She can’t stop talking about him. Don’t tell him I said that though.”

“It’s okay, I can keep a secret. It’s good that you're close to your sister.”

“Oh, yeah. It comes with being so isolated I guess and being stuck in the same house all the time. We’re good friends too.”

“Well, she was the one who introduced herself to me and my boyfriend,” I said. “She kinda guessed we were gay. Let’s just say my ex could be a little obvious at times. Anyway, she only did it because she was concerned about you, and I thought that was cool.”

“She has her moments. She does care. What about you. Are you close to your family?”

I laughed, but it was misleading. “I get on quite well with my brother and sisters, although they’re not my natural siblings.” I paused and readied myself for the long drawn out explanation, but was forgetting Conner already knew Fran.

“It’s okay. I know what happened. I mean, I know why you had to move here, your mom and stuff. Fran already explained it to me. You don’t have to talk about it unless you want to.”

I smiled and reached out to touch him on the arm. I certainly preferred not to talk about it when I was out on a date, but I liked that he brought it up and handled it respectfully.

“Did she tell you I hate my adopted parents?” I laughed afterwards to turn it into a joke, but it wasn’t, and he must have known as much. “Well I don’t exactly hate them, but they can be real dicks sometimes. I’m just warning you.”

I wondered if I was being a little too presumptuous in assuming he was going to want to see me long enough to get to meet the family, but his reaction put me at ease.

“Thanks for the warning. My parents are quite laid back. I’ve been lucky. They were okay with me when I came out, so it wasn’t too much of a problem. I’m guessing you didn’t have it so easy.”

“You could say that. Don hasn’t exactly embraced my sexuality. That’s putting it mildly, but I don’t wanna scare you away.”

“It’s okay, I’m not dating your old man.”

I smiled at him as drops of raindrops began appearing on his plastic raincoat. He was growing on me. I couldn’t help being impressed by his ever-present smile and cheerful nature.

“How long have you been out for?”

“About a year and a half,” he said, which surprised me. It was a lot longer than I thought and a year before me. “Actually, they figured it out when I introduced them to my boyfriend.” I wasn’t expecting that either, and he must have noticed. “We weren’t that remote. There were other kids around, and I managed to find one who wasn’t attracted to the opposite sex.”

“Same here,” I said as the rain became heavier. I pointed to a small covered area by the side of the stage and checked out his ass as I followed him.

He leaned against the wall and waited for me to join him, but the smile never left his face.

“While we’re on the subject of boyfriends. There’s something I have to tell you. Just so you know; I was in a relationship with him for almost a year before I left Saskatchewan. We met at school, so I’ve known him for a long time. What I mean is, although we’re obviously not together anymore, I’m still in contact with him as a friend. I mean, we still talk on the phone and stuff. Not all the time, but occasionally.”

It took a while to process this information, and when I did, it bothered me. I didn’t mind the fact he was still in contact with the guy, but I wanted to know the reason why they split up.

“Was it because you had to move here?”

“Yes,” he said. “Otherwise we would probably still be together. I think you should know this. It’s only fair.”

I wasn’t sure if I would have been so upfront if it had been me, but I appreciated his honesty.

“So, I guess I have to ask you the same question you asked me in the week. Are you over him?” I already knew the answer and his delay in replying only confirmed it.

“I still have feelings for him. I’m new to this, and I’m not sure how long it takes to get over someone. But that’s my history. Like you, it’s just the one, but it’s definitely over between us.”

He sounded relieved to get it off his chest, and he was quite upbeat about it, which made me think I was worrying about nothing. I kept drawing comparisons with Tom; someone I didn’t even class as a boyfriend and hadn’t mentioned. The similarities though were visible, but I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t understand my own feelings at the time and still didn’t.

Up until then, Conner had seemed so uncomplicated, almost too laid back and sophisticated for his age. This was the first chink in his armour, and he sounded unsure of himself. In my eyes, it made him more human and in an odd way, more attractive. I decided it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t start visiting over the weekends.

‘How can I object when I’m meeting up with Nathan tomorrow’.

“I guess if you're no longer together, that’s all that matters,” I said. “Six months is a long time. I’m not surprised you still have some feelings though because you didn’t actually split up if you know what I mean. You had to move because of your family. You had no choice. I know how difficult that is. Eventually, you have to move on, whether that’s now or later, is up to you.”

I thought it was sound advice, based on my own experience and it also left him a way out if necessary. Letting him know I would understand if he wasn’t ready. We could wait if he wanted, and there was a part of me that wanted to do that.

“That’s what my sister keeps telling me,” he said. “She’s been trying to get me to go out and meet people. I finally agreed to go with her to the party. Then she scared the crap outta me when she told me she was gonna introduce me to someone. A guy she met outside a cinema. I almost didn’t go.”

I laughed. “Me too, and I have to admit, I didn’t know what to think when I saw you in a gorilla suit. I nearly turned and walked out.”

“Yeah, poor choice, I have to admit.”

I was able to study his face quickly as he looked skywards at the rain clouds. He was attractive and had nice teeth and cute dimples when he smiled, which was most of the time. I think he caught me watching him and looked a little uneasy, so I offered him a compliment. They always worked with girls.

“I wasn’t disappointed though when you removed your gorilla head,” I said and smiled as he started to blush.

“Thank you. I like you too.”

‘Okay. So where can we go to shag’?

I wasn’t sure what to make of his boyfriend confession, but I doubted if his situation was any worse than my own, and there were possible advantages. With a yearlong relationship under his belt, it was safe to assume he wasn’t a virgin. Plus, after a six-month sabbatical, he was probably just as anxious as I was to get back into the swing of things. Maybe even more so. It had only been two months for me, and I was already spending way too much time thinking about a cure. I wasn’t desperate for sex, but it was bound to happen at some stage if we continued to date, and I was excited by the prospect of having a new partner.

I just hoped I would be able to get Nathan out of my head long enough to do it and stop feeling so guilty all the time.

We spent a lot of the day walking. A very un-Canadian thing to do, but easy-going Conner didn’t seem to mind. It looked as if he kept himself fit. There wasn’t a lot of fat on him, and he had broad shoulders and calf muscles. Manly things which Nathan always lacked. He told me he helped out on the farm whenever he could, which probably explained his trim physique and added a little more interest.

I took him to a diner in town. A place I had never been to before but looked at every day from the school bus. It was always empty, and it wasn’t much busier on a Saturday.

We ordered food and milkshakes and chatted, but Conner was distracted by the television which was showing football highlights. The American grid-iron variety, or in this case, the lesser known Canadian version of the game.

I was surprised to learn that Conner was a keen fan and even played the game at school. It offered a more likely explanation for his healthy shape, and I was treated to a quick preview when he removed his sweater, and his t-shirt rode up flashing his bare midriff. Once again, I was too slow at looking away, and he caught me gawping, but what did he expect. It wasn't overly warm inside and I had a feeling he did it on purpose.

Teasing me with a quick show of skin was sure to keep me keen, and I was hungry to see the rest of him. That was unlikely to happen until we had a few dates under our belts, so I thought it a good idea to start arranging them and maybe speed up the process a little.

I wondered if we could fit two into a day, or would it still count as one?

“What are you doing later?”

Maybe he was quiet, but he certainly wasn’t shy as his sister had implied and Conner accepted my offer to watch a movie at the Rainbow, that evening.

‘I’m catching up, Rory’.

“What team do you like?”

“The Saskatchewan Roughriders,” he said, and I nearly choked on my milkshake.

“Is that a real team?”

“Of course, and they’re doing well this year. In the division finals and may be heading for another Grey Cup final.”

All of that meant little to me, but I was amused by the name, and he must have known why.

“Sorry,” I said, but I was finding it hard to stop giggling, and I could feel my face heating up.

‘He must think I have a smutty mind’.

If he did, it didn’t bother him and was soon laughing at my giggling, but our childish antics weren’t appreciated by the grumpy waitress when she arrived with our food.

“Can you keep the noise down please?”

When I looked around the diner, there was only one other patron, and he was sitting on the opposite side. Somehow she was able to figure us out, but I couldn’t work out how until we were almost ready to leave. She was one of the moms who insisted on driving their kids to school, parking illegally at the front of the building and getting in the way of the buses.

“She knows me from school,” I whispered to Conner. “Well, she doesn’t know me, but she obviously knows about me.”

“I get it. You're infamous.”

“No, just gay.”

“Yeah, infamous.”

She didn’t like the fact that we were eating in her diner, even though it obviously wasn’t her diner, and tried to make it uncomfortable for us. She even tried to collect our plates before we finished eating.

“Do you want anything else, or are you only here to watch TV?”

“We’re just watching the game,” said Conner. “Is that okay with you?”

She stared at us over her glasses and scribbled a bill. “Enjoy watching the football, guys.”

“I always enjoy watching the football guys,” I said. “It’s their legs I like, all muscly, and firm.”

Conner caught on quickly and was determined not to be outdone. “Hmm, I love muscly legs, don’t I sweet pea?” I couldn’t keep a straight face and had another attack of the giggles, brought on by his over-the-top attempt at a gay lisp.

The waitress wasn’t so impressed, looking at us as if we were diseased. It was my first experience of homophobia in a public place from someone whose job it was to serve us. If I hadn’t been with Conner, it would have bothered me much more than it did, but we were able to laugh it off, and she didn’t get a tip.

Outside, I questioned him. “Sweet pea?”

“Sorry,” he said. “It was the first thing that came to mind. But it kinda suits you.” I gave him a curious stare as he laughed at me along the High Street.

“Whatever you say, Roughrider!”

I had a feeling those nicknames were going to stick.

*     *     *

I was under no illusions, dating this boy wasn’t going to be easy. There was a small matter of logistics to sort out. I wouldn’t be able to walk to his house, and there was no public transit either. The only way he could get to town was by road, and neither of us owned a car or even had a driver’s licence. It dampened my expectations a little, but not much. There were options available to me which not all kids had. I was already on first name terms with every cab driver in town and had a debit card and a very healthy bank balance, which I rarely, if ever, had to dip into.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth, was something my mom used to say. I never really understood what it meant, but my interpretation was simple. The money was there to help me, and I wanted to use it while I still had the chance. At the back of my mind was this constant nagging doubt about my health. I never expected to reach middle age, but in the light of recent developments, I wasn’t even that confident anymore of seeing out my teens.

The dizzy spells were proof of my perceived fragile existence. I knew something wasn’t right inside although I couldn’t explain it and tried not to dwell on it. I just didn’t feel normal, and it had to be related to my head injury. It was too much of a coincidence not to be.

My vision would blur whenever I turned my head quickly to the side, and sometimes the floor looked a lot further away than it was. I kept these symptoms to myself hoping they would go away but they were intensifying, and I was scared the doctors would put me back in the hospital.

It injected a new urgency into my life. I was frightened but pragmatic. There was little point in being frugal with money I would likely never be able to spend, and I didn’t want it to end up in Don’s pockets.

‘How ironic it would be if he benefited from my demise after doing everything he could to make my life so utterly unbearable’.

I decided I had to make out a will.