The Cockney Canuck - 158. Chapter 158 Blown & Tossed by the Wind

Saturday morning started overcast and windy, with heavy rain forecast for the afternoon. I was told we would be back before the bad weather hit, but we were still likely to get wet, so I followed Daniel’s lead and wore swimming shorts with a t-shirt and a hooded rain jacket. Before leaving, Sue pulled me aside to give me some special instructions.

“Be careful today, dear, and look out for Daniel. He has a hard time recognising danger.”

“Don’t worry; I won’t let anything bad happen to your favourite boy.” I smiled behind her back as I hugged her, then waited for Daniel to come upstairs. “Hurry up, dick, we’re gonna be late.”

“I don’t have favourites,” insisted Sue, “and watch your language in front of Amy, please.”

My little sister was eating breakfast and looked surprised to hear her name. I patted her on the head before protesting to Sue.

“What’s wrong with dick? It’s just a name.”

“Don’t be facetious, dear. You know what it means.”

“Yeah, it means penis,” I said. “Okay, I’ll use that instead. Hurry up, penis, we're gonna be late.”

Daniel wasn’t amused, but Amy had a naughty smile that she covered with her hand until her mother intervened.

“Eat your breakfast, dear.”

“But Robbie said it, not me.”

“I know,” said Sue. “And Robbie can put a dollar in the swear box.”

I was baffled and complained as I walked backwards to the front door. “But penis isn’t a swearword. It’s the correct term for a willy.” I looked to Daniel for help, but he just rolled his eyes. “You can’t just add words whenever you feel like it. You have to leave me with something.”

“I know what a penis is, Robbie. It’s not the word; it’s the way you use it.” I giggled as Sue realised what she said and went red. “That’s very childish and not funny,” she said, but it was, and even Daniel laughed.

I caught up with him on the driveway to get a second opinion. “Is penis a swearword?”

“Suck it and see, baby.” He held his crotch and winked at me before dodging my punch.

“You don’t need me. You could probably do it yourself.”

“I can,” he said.

I stopped in my tracks and stared at him. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope, it’s true.” Daniel smiled at me over the roof of the car as we waited on opposite sides for Don to come out and unlock it. Then he pushed his tongue against his cheek to mimic a blowjob and rolled up laughing.

When we met in the backseat, I managed to wrestle him into a headlock.

“I don’t believe you. It’s not that big. You’re gonna have to show me when we get home.”

“No way,” he muffled and tried to push me away. “I’m not showing you. You pervert!”

“Then you’re lying.”

“That’s enough, boys! No fighting in the car.” Don was in a bad mood as he climbed in and slammed his door shut, forcing us to separate, but our playful spat continued on the way to the harbour. It was what you would expect from two teenage boys on the cusp of an adventure and filled with nervous energy. Some of that energy had to be expelled somehow, so we did it with random punches and slaps whenever the other one wasn’t looking.

Don looked rough and dishevelled, like he hadn’t had much sleep. He could see us in the rear-view mirror, and I heard him muttering under his breath, but I was too busy thinking about Daniel’s spurious claim to pay much attention to the driver, and the warnings of what was to follow, went unheeded.

When he dropped us at the harbour, Rory was already waiting by the entrance to the marina and looking a little pensive.

“The lake looks kinda rough today, don’t you think?”

I followed my brother out of the car and glanced skywards at the ominous black clouds, then surveyed the empty harbour. The pastor’s catamaran was moored at the last dock at the end of the west pier. It was the largest boat in the marina and the only one I could see with any activity on board.

“We’ll be fine,” said Daniel. “Catamarans don’t roll as much as monohulls.” He waved goodbye to Don and headed down the ramp ahead of us while Rory waited for me to zip up my jacket.

“Hey, Rory. You’ll never guess what Daniel just told me,” I giggled as I walked over to hug my friend and whisper in his ear. “Apparently, he can suck his own dick.”

Rory didn’t believe him either and scoffed as we embraced. That was how I usually greeted Rory, and it was completely natural, but it didn’t go down well with Don, who called me back to the car.

I put one hand on the roof and lowered my head to peer through the open window. “What do you want?”

“Does the pastor know you’re bringing Rory?”

“Yes, I already asked him.”

“Well, don’t embarrass me today. This is supposed to be a sailing lesson, not an opportunity to fool around with your friends.”

“I’m not going to fool around.”

“Men don’t cuddle each other, Robbie. When are you going to grow up and realise that? Don’t you care what people think of you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean. At least try to act normal in front of the pastor.”

‘Normal?’

I screwed up my face in disbelief. Our hug may have been a little more affectionate than usual, but nothing that anyone would have found disturbing, and it definitely didn’t warrant this kind of abuse.

“I only gave him a hug. What’s wrong with that?”

“You honestly don’t see anything wrong in that?” His voice was hushed, but Rory was close enough to hear, and I was embarrassed. I glanced at my friend and retaliated.

“No, I don’t. Rory’s my friend. It’s not like we were kissing. He’s not even gay!” My response was much louder than Don, competing with the sound of the gulls circling overhead and turning the heads of anyone within earshot.

It was no surprise that Don’s brief spell of being nice to me ended the moment he realised I wasn’t going to hitch up with Stephanie. Perhaps that was his last hope, and now he had to come to terms with the fact that his adopted gay son was likely to stay that way. Whatever his reason for being nasty that day, it had nothing to do with Rory, who looked scared when Don got out of the car and unleashed a volley of abuse.

“Don’t play games with me, Robbie. You know exactly what you’re doing. Trying to undermine me again. You think you’re smart, but you’re making a big mistake.”

“If it’s a problem, I can go home,” said Rory. “I don’t mind.”

I felt sorry for my friend. He had never seen this side of Don before, and I felt the need to defend him.

“No! Don’t leave; he’s just being an asshole! It’s not even his boat!”

Don was seething. His veins were popping on the side of his head, and I wondered if he would finally implode as Jo had warned, but he had other ways to hurt me.

“You’re grounded!”

“What for? Because I hugged somebody?”

“No. For being rude to me.”

I was doing my best to remain calm and follow Jo’s instructions, but Don knew how to provoke me more than anyone else, and I was the one who lost control. It felt like something clicked inside my head, and after that, I was no longer capable of rational thought.

“YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

“Oh, yes, I can. You’re grounded the moment you get back.”

“Well, I’m not going then!”

“Yes, you are. The pastor’s waiting for you.”

“I don’t care. He can fuck off. I’M NOT FUCKING GOING!”

It was still early, and the harbour was almost deserted, but I was causing a scene, and it was the type of publicity Don didn’t like.

He didn’t want to get into a yelling match with me in the street, so he tried to defuse the situation by gesturing with his hands for me to calm down.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he snarled through gritted teeth before addressing an elderly couple, who stopped to see what was happening. “It’s okay. He’s my son.”

“NO, I’M NOT! HE’S LYING!” I was sure everyone in the harbour heard me yelling, and the elderly gentleman, egged on by his wife, asked me if I wanted him to call the police.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Don. He spoke much calmer as he took a step back and tried to placate them, but he wasn’t convincing. “It’s just a family dispute. Nothing to worry about. He’s playing stupid games.” He spat the last two words at me as his anger betrayed him, and his face turned even redder.

I didn’t want the police showing up either, so I glanced at the couple and mouthed a quick thank you, then turned at the sound of scurried footsteps behind me. The pastor was out of breath after jogging the length of the pier with Matthew and Daniel in his wake. I thought he was going to collapse as he held onto my shoulder to steady himself and fill his lungs with air.

“Good Lord. What’s going on?” he gasped and took another deep breath. “I could hear you from the end of the jetty.” His question was directed at me, but it was Don who answered.

“He’s trying to make me look stupid,” he said in an almost schoolboy tone.

I sneered at him. “That’s not difficult!”

The pastor rolled his eyes at my comment and raised his hand to keep Don at bay.

“Leave him with me, Don. I think I can handle him.” He looked me in the eye as his breathing slowed and sweat trickled from his grey hair. Then shook his head to signal his disappointment. “You’re gonna have to learn to curb that temper of yours, young man.” It was the closest I had seen the pastor to looking angry, and he wasn’t even a tiny bit scary. That wasn’t how he operated.

“He started it,” I said, glaring at Don, but he was already walking back to his car.

“He’s all yours, pastor. You have my permission to discipline him if he gets out of line.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” said the pastor winking at me. “We can have a nice chat, instead.”

“Good luck with that. You’ll be wasting your time. I’ve tried to help him, but he doesn’t want to know.”

It was a blatant lie. “No, you haven’t!” I brushed the pastor’s hand from my shoulder as Don got into his car. “You’ve never helped me!”

“Don’t forget to come straight home when you get back. You can spend the next two weeks working on your behaviour.”

“FUCK YOU! I MIGHT NOT COME HOME!” I yelled at the car and had to be restrained by Daniel. My brother stood in front of me and pinned my arms to my side while Don shook his head and drove off.

Daniel held me until my muscles relaxed, and I rested my head against his shoulder. “Robbie, you have to calm down. You’re just making things worse for yourself by shouting at him; you can’t win.”

Ironically, his embrace was much closer and more affectionate than the polite hug with Rory that Don found so offensive, but no one objected, not even the pastor, who put a conciliatory arm around us both. He had his work cut out that day, and I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had refused to take me, but he seemed to relish the challenge, and an opportunity to finally talk to me alone.

I welcomed my brother’s familiar scent, then lifted my head to look sheepishly at the sullen faces surrounding us. Matthew’s friends from the church were the latest additions to a small audience that shuffled their feet uneasily and quickly dispersed, but my anger and frustration remained.

“Oh, my, you’ve got a ferocious temper, haven’t you?” said the pastor. “But it’s not helping, I’m afraid.”

As my rage subsided, it was replaced with shame and self-loathing. I hated Don, but I hated myself even more for losing control and allowing him to upset me. Despite all the sessions with Jo, he could still hurt me almost at will and for no reason other than to be nasty. That day was particularly embarrassing because it happened in front of my best friend, and now I couldn’t even look him in the eye.

Rory saw me at my worst, out of control and yelling obscenities at the man who was supposed to be my father. I’m sure it was my friend’s presence that made me so angry, but in the end, my behaviour wasn’t much better than Don’s, and everyone could see it.

I could sense their disappointment as I hung my head and walked in silence along the dock, ignoring attempts from Daniel and Rory to cheer me up with light-hearted conversation. I wanted to be left alone, and when we reached the boat, the pastor ushered me into the saloon. This was the middle section of the boat under the flybridge that joined the two hulls, and it was impressive.

The pastor’s catamaran was much bigger than Don’s monohull, with a touch of opulence I wasn’t expecting. Lots of polished wood with stainless steel fittings and leather upholstery—as well as constant reminders of the boat’s religious affiliations. The carpet had the church logo woven into it, and on the walls above the stairs on either side were the words, ‘God is love’ written in gold leaf.

“It's okay,” I mumbled when the pastor asked me what I thought of his newly refurbished floating palace.

“Okay is better than nothing, I suppose, and you’re not swearing at me, so I must be doing something right.” He wrung his hands and motioned for me to sit at a table that took up one side of the cabin. On the opposite side was a modern, fully equipped galley with a breakfast bar and fixed swivel stools. The pastor took two bottles of water from a large wood-panelled refrigerator and placed them on the table as he sat beside me. “Is this your first time on a sailboat?”

“Yes.”

“Well, this will be a good introduction. We’ll know if you’ve got what it takes after today.”

“Is it safe to go sailing in this weather?”

“Oh, yes, perfectly safe. Remember, the wind is our friend, and we have an experienced skipper. We haven’t lost anyone yet.” He chuckled at his joke, but it wasn’t funny, and I stared at him until he stopped and coughed. “There’s no need to worry. It’s supposed to be fun, you know.”

“It doesn’t look like anyone else is having fun today.”

“We’ll have the lake to ourselves then, won’t we? It’ll be a little choppy out there, but Catamarans are more resistant to heeling than the other boats in the harbour.” He smiled at my blank stare before translating his comment into something I understood. “They don’t roll as much. Two hulls are better than one. I’ll explain how it works.”

I groaned and looked down at the table. “Don’t bother. I’m not interested.”

“I thought you wanted to learn how to sail. We can go up to the flybridge if you want to watch the skipper navigate out of the harbour.”

“No, thanks.”

“Well, at least come outside; you can introduce me to your friend. He looks like a nice boy. You’ll feel better in the fresh air.”

“I doubt it.”

I could sense his frustration but sulking was part of the recovery process, along with an overwhelming desire to wallow in self-pity. I was certain no one in the world was more unfairly treated than me, and there was nothing anyone could do that could possibly put it right.

“I’m sorry Don had to ruin things for you today, Robbie.”

“Not as sorry as me.”

“No, I suspect not. But if it’s any consolation. I think he was a little heavy-handed. He overreacts to situations; I’ve known this for some time, but I didn’t realise it was this bad, or I would have acted sooner. I’m going to have a word with him about it when we get back. He’ll listen to me.”

Encouraged by his sympathetic words, my suppressed emotions finally caught up with me, just like they always did, and I was forced to wipe my face with the back of my hand. I hated showing weakness, especially in front of the pastor. Now he could see the real me. My tough-talking was just an act. I felt exposed and shamed, but there was nothing I could do to stem the tears.

When I felt his hand on my shoulder, I pushed it away and snarled at him through misty eyes. “I’m not going home when we get back. I won’t be grounded anymore. He can go fuck himself!”

I expected a reaction, but the pastor ignored my profanity and offered me a box of tissues.

“Oh, dear. Well, we’ll have to sort something out today then, won’t we? Perhaps I can persuade him to be more lenient. Punishing you isn’t going to achieve anything, I’m afraid. I have a much better solution. It’s called compromise.”

I wasn’t convinced he would be able to talk any sense into Don, and I didn’t like the word compromise. It sounded too much like surrender, and I wasn’t prepared to do that anymore.

I sniffed and wiped my face. “What does that mean?”

“Let’s not beat about the bush, Robbie. We all know the cause of the problem.”

“Yes, it’s him.”

The pastor squinted at me as he wiped his glasses. “Hmm. Unfortunately, Don said the same thing about you. We need to find some common ground.”

I didn’t hold out much hope, and despite my threats, I knew I didn’t have a legitimate reason not to go home. Jo told me to go to Rory’s house if I needed to get away from Don, but she meant in an emergency if he was violent or threatening violence, and technically neither was the case. His body language was threatening, and he scared the hell out of Rory, but Don was smart enough to keep on the right side of the law, if only by the skin of his teeth.

As I slumped in my seat, we were joined by a young man dressed all in white. He was twentysomething and clean-shaven, with bright eyes and a big toothy smile that screamed Ontario Baptist. The pastor introduced him only as the skipper, but he looked a little young for that job, and the gold cross that hung around his neck cast doubt on the old man’s claim that he only hired the best crew. Considering the reclusive nature of the church, it seemed likely they would favour someone from the congregation over a more experienced non-believer, and after watching him interact with the pastor, I wasn’t convinced about his credentials.

There was a boating magazine on the table that I pretended to read while they studied the radar and briefly discussed the weather.

When the skipper left, the pastor looked worried, and I was sure he would have to cancel the trip, but he seemed surprised that I should even mention such a thing.

“Don’t be silly. It’s nothing to be concerned about. There’s a storm heading our way, but we’ll be back long before it gets here.” He patted me on the head and smiled. “The skipper worries over nothing. He still has a few things to learn, I’m afraid.”

“But I thought you said he was experienced.”

The pastor frowned at me. He didn’t like awkward questions. “You don’t think I would allow him to take charge of this boat if he didn’t know what he was doing, do you?”

“I suppose not.”

“You must believe and not doubt because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. James chapter one, verse six. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

He was delusional. I loved being blown and tossed, but probably not in that context.

“No,” I said as he took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. “Definitely not.”

“Good. Do as I say, and you’ll make a fine sailor. After all, someone will have to sail Don’s boat, and it won’t be him, that’s for sure.” He leaned towards me and tapped the side of his nose. “Between you and me, I don’t think he has what it takes.”

“You mean, he’s too fat.”

“That’s not what I said, young man, although it’s not an unfair assessment. Let’s face it; Don isn’t the most able-bodied person for such a small vessel.”

‘Yeah, he’s too fat.’

“Well, he can shove his stupid boat where the sun don’t shine. I won’t be getting on it. It’s cursed anyway. The bloody thing’ll probably sink first time out. Hopefully, with him on it!”

I was trying not to swear, but the pastor was more tolerant than I expected from a man of the cloth, and at times it was hard not to like him. He was pulling out all the stops to gain my trust, and I wanted to believe in him, but ultimately, I knew his help would depend on whether or not I was prepared to live by his rules.

He smiled at me and stood up. “We can talk about this later. We’ll be leaving the harbour soon. Are you going to come outside or sit in here all day?”

“I think I’ll stay here for a while.”

“Suit yourself; I’ll come back to check on you when we’re ready to raise the sails. You wouldn’t want to miss that.”

*     *     *

I sat in the comfort of the saloon and watched the pastor round up the kids on deck for a quick safety lesson. He wanted to beat the impending storm, and there was a sudden urgency about him as he helped Matthew hand out lifejackets. His son was one of five students from the church, including two girls, who I saw briefly at the harbour wall following my bust-up with Don. I wasn’t sure how much they witnessed, but I was in no rush to meet them.

Matthew made me jump. He was standing in the doorway holding a lifejacket and looked ridiculous with long boardshorts that nearly reached his ankles.

“This is for you. Everyone has to wear one.”

“Thanks.” I took it from him and threw it on the seat, but he picked it up and held it open for me to put my arms through.

“It’s the rules.”

“Fine.” I stood up and put it on, then watched as he fastened my straps.

“You’ll thank me if we sink.”

“And how likely is that?”

“Very unlikely. Catamarans don’t sink. Now breathe in; this needs to be tight.”

“Why, you just said we won’t sink?”

“But you could still fall overboard. It’s going to be rough out there today. You’ll probably get seasick. Most kids do on their first trip.”

As Matthew spoke, the engine revs increased, and the floor vibrated. Through the window behind him, I saw the pastor unhook the line at the bow and hop into the cockpit like a man half his age. Then as the boat moved away from the dock, I held onto the counter to steady myself.

“I thought these things didn’t roll.”

“All boats roll, but this is nothing. Wait until we get out of the harbour.” He smiled as he stood back to admire his handiwork. “Does that feel comfortable? It kinda suits you.”

“Thanks. You can go now.”

“Don’t you want to go outside with your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend?”

“Yes, the blond boy. I thought he was ….”

I was surprised by Matthew’s boldness. He was nothing like the shy, nervous boy who visited our house.

“Rory’s just a friend, but it’s none of your business.”

He was teasing me. “You don’t like it when I ask you personal questions, but you think it’s okay to do it to me. It’s not nice, is it?”

“I was trying to help you. You ungrateful little shit!”

“Why?”

“I know, it’s crazy, isn’t it? Why would anyone want to help you? Maybe I felt sorry for you, but not anymore.”

Our conversation ended abruptly when the pastor returned. He was looking for his son and seemed surprised to find him with me.

“Robbie isn’t feeling very well. I hope you weren’t annoying him.”

“He was only helping me with my lifejacket,” I said.

Matthew stared at me, perhaps wondering why I chose to defend him. It was a mystery to me too. The kid didn’t deserve my help but made the most of it with a hasty retreat. He joined Daniel and one of the church boys in the bow cockpit as we motored past the lighthouse and out of the harbour.

“My son can be irritating,” said the pastor. “I told him to keep away from you. If he bugs you again, let me know.”

“It’s okay; he wasn’t bugging me.” I held onto the wall as a wave crashed against the bow covering the kids at the front in spray. Without the protection of the breakwaters, the ride suddenly became a lot rockier, and it sounded like they were having fun. I wanted to join them but couldn’t resist an opportunity to stir things up a little first. “You don’t like Matthew talking to me, do you?”

The pastor wasn’t expecting that question, and for once, he seemed lost for words.

“Is that what he told you?”

“No, he didn’t say anything, but it’s pretty obvious and not just today. Whenever you visit our house, you make sure he stays away from me.”

“Matthew’s old enough to make his own decisions, but as a rule, we don’t encourage the children of the congregation to associate with people outside of the faith, particularly if they’re having problems.”

“If they’re gay, you mean.”

“That’s not a word I would use, but you have had certain issues in the past which have caused a lot of upset. Matthew is aware of those issues, so you can’t blame him for feeling a bit uncomfortable. Maybe we’re overprotective, but I’m afraid that’s how the church works. I thought he would have explained this to you.”

“No, that’s the problem. He never talks to me. Not a word.”

I could sense the pastor’s relief. I got the feeling it was precisely what he wanted to hear.

“Well, don’t take it too personally. Matthew’s very shy, remember, and you can be a little, shall we say, impudent?”

“No, I’m not!”

“Do you even know what it means?”

“No, and I don’t wanna know.”

The pastor chuckled. “You could get to know Matthew better if you came to church occasionally.”

“No, thanks.”

“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we make a deal? If I can persuade Don to cancel your punishment, you must attend church tomorrow. How does that sound?”

It sounded unrealistic. Don wasn’t the type to take instructions from others, especially when it contradicted his judgement, and I couldn’t see him backing down, even for the pastor.

“He won’t do it.”

“I think he will, but what have you got to lose?”

The pastor was right. I had nothing to lose by allowing him to negotiate with Don on my behalf, and if he succeeded, all it would cost me was an hour or so of boredom. It was better than two weeks of being grounded.

“Okay. It’s a deal, but he has to apologise.”

“I can be very persuasive, but I’m afraid I can’t work miracles, young man. I’ve never heard Don apologise to anyone, not even when he ran over Mrs Wilkins in the parking lot. I don’t think it’s in his vocabulary.”

I was horrified. “He ran someone over?”

“Mrs Wilkins was the church cat.”

Judging by the pastor’s sad expression and use of the past tense, I assumed it didn’t end well for Mrs Wilkins. I couldn’t imagine many creatures surviving that kind of impact.

‘Maybe an elephant.’

It gave me yet another reason to hate him.

‘Cat murderer! Justice will be done, Mrs Wilkins.’

“Do cats go to heaven, pastor?”

“The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the lion shall lie down with the kid, young Robbie. No creature will be turned away from God’s kingdom.”

“Unless they’re gay.”

He sighed. “I’m afraid there are consequences for those who choose to disobey God’s instructions.”

“But it’s not a choice.”

“This is where we differ. Surrendering to temptation is a choice. People don’t have to do it. They can choose a better life and be rewarded with happiness. You want to be happy, don’t you?”

“Of course, doesn’t everyone?”

“You’d think, but sometimes I wonder. Don’t be fooled by what they tell you in school. People control their destiny, and the path to everlasting happiness is to love God and follow his rules.”

“But I don’t understand. Why is it so wrong to like someone of the same sex? It’s not like I’m hurting anyone.”

The pastor recognised my mistake immediately and pounced on it. “So, who is it that you like in this way? Do I know this person?”

“No, I mean it’s not any one person.”

“I want you to be truthful with me, Robbie. Why was Don mad at you?”

“Because I hugged Rory.”

“I see. So, this Rory boy ….”

I could read the pastor’s mind. He was so obvious. “No, he’s not gay. You can ask anyone. Don’s just paranoid.”

“Not without reason, it seems. I’m glad you’re no longer friends with that awful Nathan boy, but I’m disappointed to hear you still have unnatural desires. I had hoped your relationship with Stephanie was a sign that you had moved on.”

“But I didn’t have a relationship with Stephanie, and I haven’t moved on either.”

“Well, you managed to father a child; you must have had some kind of relationship with her, and you must also be attracted to women, so why are you continuing to have these unnatural feelings for boys? It sounds like someone’s influencing you, filling your head with progressive garbage. But who?”

“No one. Why can’t you just accept that I’m gay?”

“Because there’s no such thing. It’s a state of mind. God isn’t going to change the rules just to suit you or anyone else for that matter. There are no rainbow crosswalks in heaven, Robbie, and no room for those who choose a different path, but it’s not too late to change. God is forgiving, providing you ….” The pastor was interrupted mid-sentence when the sliding door to the aft cockpit opened behind him. “What is it now, Matthew?”

“It’s not Matthew,” said the girl in the doorway and the pastor’s tone changed.

“Ah, Hannah, come in. I don’t suppose you’ve met Robbie, have you?”

Hannah was short with light, curly hair, round glasses and deep-blue eyes that darted nervously between the pastor and me as she held out a cold, wet hand for me to shake.

“No, but I recognise him from school.”

My heart must have skipped a beat, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. The happy clappers had to go to school somewhere, and if they lived in town, it was likely to be Stephenson. She was pretty but not the type who would usually grab my attention in the school corridors.

“Sorry, but I don’t remember you.”

“It’s okay; I’m in grade nine,” she said, pulling her hand away and taking a step back. “It’s a big school.”

That meant she was fourteen and only in her first year of high school, but if she recognised me, then she probably knew about my relationship with Nathan. I wondered how long it would be before she told the pastor and if there was any way I could persuade her to keep it quiet.

The pastor’s face lit up with joy. “Well, well, you attend the same school; what a coincidence.” He turned expectantly to me, but I was more pragmatic.

“It’s the only high school in town.”

“Yes, I know that, but still.” He rested his hand on the back of her lifejacket and pushed her towards me—a move that clearly made her uncomfortable. “Robbie will be joining us tomorrow for the Easter service.”

I glared at him and stepped back to give the girl room to breathe. “Maybe.”

“Probably,” he added with a wink.

Hannah looked confused. She offered me a nervous smile, then remembered the reason for her visit.

“Oh, the skipper wants to know when you’re starting the lesson?”

The pastor glanced at his watch. “The lesson. Oh dear, I’m afraid I’m neglecting my duties. Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”

Before closing the door, she smiled at me again. “Nice meeting you, Robbie.”

I swallowed nervously as the pastor put a flabby arm over my shoulders.

“You know, I think she quite likes you,” he chuckled. “She’s a delightful girl, isn’t she? Very pretty. What do you think?”

“I suppose.”

“And as far as I know, she hasn’t started courting yet.” He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes.

“She’s only fourteen.”

“My wife was only thirteen when I met her.”

I smirked. “I didn’t realise we were getting married?”

“You may jest, but most of the married couples in our congregation met around your age.” I had underestimated the pastor. We had only just left the harbour, and he had already found me a bride. He must have noticed my worried expression. “Don’t look so scared. We don’t believe in arranged marriages. But there are some nice girls in our congregation—wholesome, friendly, honest girls who worship God and not some craven transgender pop star. Of course, we don’t normally allow them to date boys who haven’t been baptised, but in special circumstances such as these, I’m sure no one would object.”

‘Only me.’

“What special circumstances?”

“You’re a victim who needs love and support, not punishment. It hasn’t been easy for you. Losing your mother, moving to another country, a new school. All those things made you vulnerable and an easy target for the likes of Nathan and Stephanie to rape and abuse.”

“They didn’t rape me.”

“Oh, but they did. You just don’t know it yet. And Nathan will do it again if you show him even the slightest weakness. Deviants like him prey on innocents like you who haven’t benefited from a religious upbringing, and they’re never satisfied.”

‘You can say that again.’

There was some truth in the pastor’s words. By his own admission, Nathan was a sexual deviant, and I knew for a fact he was never satisfied.

“Don’t blame yourself for other people’s failings. They’re the guilty ones, not you. Unfortunately, Don has never understood that, but he will. You don’t have to worry about him anymore. You can leave him to me.” The pastor stood in front of me and clasped his hands firmly against the outside of my arms, forcing me to stand up straight and look him in the eye. “You’ve done well on your own, but you still have issues, and the battle isn’t won. A virtuous girlfriend like Hannah would be an enormous advantage to you in the dark days ahead.”

I wriggled out of his hands and scratched my head. “Virtuous girlfriend?”

“You know what virtuous means, don’t you?”

“It means she isn’t real.”

The pastor stared at me and took a deep breath. “No, Robbie. That’s virtual. A virtuous girlfriend is a girl with high moral standards who doesn’t offer herself to every Tom, Dick, and Harry. I don’t suppose you know too many of them.”

“No, all the girls I know are sluts and whores.”

I was joking, but the pastor wasn’t so sure. He shuddered at my choice of words and glared at me. I knew I was getting to him.

He was a smooth talker, and unlike Don, he tried to remain calm and present his argument with civility. I preferred this approach, and there was even a part of me that wanted to believe him. I was tired of the constant battles with Don and fed up with people looking at me as if I was a freak. It was gradually wearing me down, so when the pastor promised me a life free of confrontation and judgement, it was difficult not to give it at least some consideration. I had to admit that life on the other side of the fence looked pretty rosy, and I only had to look out the window to see proof. My brother was goofing around with Rory, and both looked as if they didn’t have a care in the world, while I was facing the prospect of two weeks of forced isolation.

The pastor’s promise to deal with Don was an enticing offer, and if I hadn’t had a boyfriend to keep me focused, I might have been ready to sign on the dotted line and commit myself to a life of misery with someone like Hannah. I could see how a boy on his own, frightened and confused, could be talked into believing it was an illness that could be cured. Then, if all else failed, they had Mr Symmonds waiting in the wings.

That thought made me shiver. Don had already tried to fast-track me into the clutches of the evil counsellor, and he would probably try again if the pastor failed. These people didn’t give up easily.

As the waves battered the underside of the saloon, I tried walking to the front window and back without holding on. My balance was improving, and although I felt a little queasy, I wasn’t about to throw up as Matthew had predicted.

“How do you feel?” asked the pastor.

“It feels like I’m drunk,” I said before correcting myself when I noticed his disapproval. “I read about it online.”

He smiled. “Yeah, me too.”

The pastor enjoyed a tipple. I had seen him down a few glasses of the hard stuff at Don’s dinner parties before merrily driving home, but apparently, that was okay.

I changed the subject, knowing the longer I kept him talking, the more likely he would cancel the lesson and return to port.

“How many gay people have you converted?”

“I prefer to say cured because I think of it as an affliction that can affect anyone. You’re not the only boy who’s lusted after someone of the same sex. Most boys and some men occasionally find themselves compromised by impure thoughts, and some, like you, require spiritual guidance. You’re no different from anyone else. We’re all the same in that respect. It’s all about having the strength to resist temptation.”

“Do you have impure thoughts then?”

“Absolutely not; I’m the pastor, remember.”

“But you just said we’re all the same, and I have lots of them.”

“I was talking metaphorically, not out of personal experience.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew he wasn’t always a pastor. “What about when you were younger? Were you ever tempted to have sex with other boys or men?”

He finally snapped. “How dare you. Of course not! What are you implying?”

“I was only asking.”

“Well, don’t. I ask the questions here, not you. This isn’t about me!” He wiped his brow and quickly composed himself, covering his anger with a somewhat disingenuous smile. “I can see why Don has a problem with you. You can be rather irritating at times. You have a knack for getting under people’s skin.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

I didn’t like the way he said that or how he suddenly lost his cool when faced with a few uncomfortable questions. Maybe he wasn’t as nice as he pretended.

I decided that getting under people’s skin wasn’t a bad knack to have, and when Matthew arrived with another message from the flybridge, it looked as if my delaying tactics were working.

“The skipper wants to cancel the lesson and return to the harbour. It’s getting rough out there.”

The pastor was having none of it. “Nonsense! It’s perfect weather for sailing.” He instructed Matthew to go back and prepare the sails while he had another look at the radar. “And take Robbie with you; perhaps he can give you a hand.”

I protested. “Shouldn’t we listen to the skipper?”

The pastor frowned and dismissed my concerns, “I’m in charge, and I know best.”

I turned to Matthew for backup, but he was already gone. He was far too compliant for a teenager, even though the small rotund-looking man standing by the navigation screen wasn’t the least bit intimidating.

“I thought you said the skipper was in charge.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You said you wouldn’t allow him to take charge of the boat if he didn’t know what he was doing.”

The pastor nearly choked as I quoted him from earlier. He clearly wasn’t used to people correcting or disagreeing with him, but he made a lot of mistakes and was easy to wind up. I decided he was either a very experienced sailor who understood the capabilities of his boat or a foolhardy religious nutcase who relied mainly on his faith to see him through.

I was leaning towards the latter, and when I joined Matthew outside in the aft cockpit, I could understand why the skipper was concerned. The menacing black clouds now looked close enough to touch, and the harbour with the town behind it was uncomfortably far away.

*     *     *

The flybridge was the top deck and surprisingly spacious. It was where the skipper steered the boat from the helm and where the sails were raised, lowered, and adjusted using various lines and winches. The massive seventy-two-foot-high mast was the focal point at the front and centre, with the right-angled boom joining it ten feet up from the deck and finishing just shy of the stern.

The area in-between would soon be filled with sail, and while Matthew busied himself untying the straps, I joined Rory, Daniel, and the other kids in a small seating area behind the helm. I was still embarrassed when my brother introduced me to the kids I hadn’t met, but no one mentioned my spat with Don until Rory pulled me aside for a private chat.

Compared with the sterilised crew cuts of the church boys, my friend looked a little wild with his unruly blond hair blowing in every direction, but it was undeniably cute.

I could barely hear him above the buffeting wind and the noise of the engines, so he cupped his hands over my ear to talk. I felt his warm breath on my face and shivered as his lips grazed my skin.

“I was worried about you; I’ve never seen you like that. Was Don angry because of me?”

When he finished, I followed his lead and replied in the same manner. “No, he was angry because I hugged you. He’s just an asshole. I’m sorry you had to see that.” I got a mouthful of his hair for my troubles, and there was one stuck to my tongue that I tried to pick off as he leaned forward to continue the conversation.

“You don’t need to say sorry. It wasn’t your fault. He’s the one who should be apologising, not you. If you don’t want to go home, you can stay at my house. You can stay for as long as you want. I don’t care, and my parents won’t mind either; I know they won’t. Call the police or your counsellor, but do something because this has to stop, Robbie. I mean it. It has to stop before something terrible happens.”

Rory’s words choked me up. He was always on my side, no matter what, and never too shy to show how much he cared. I was a sucker for sympathy and a shameless opportunist. I enjoyed being close to him a little too much and in a way that he would likely never understand, although sometimes he made me wonder.

I was supposed to be staying at Nathan’s house that night, but even if the pastor managed to save me from being grounded, there was no way Don would allow me to stay out. The Conner lie was too risky, and Sue wasn’t as helpful now that Nathan no longer needed me to look after him. Expecting her to risk her marriage for my sex life was probably asking a bit much of my adopted mother, although recent evidence suggested their relationship was only hanging by a thread.

Everything depended on Don not finding out I was back with the sexual deviant Nathan, but there were limits to his gullibility, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to cover my tracks.

Hannah was the latest threat. She provided a direct link between the church and a relationship I was desperate to conceal, and she wasn’t the only one. I vaguely recognised her friend from grade twelve, and one of the older boys was also familiar.

The walls were closing in from every direction, with potential enemies appearing wherever I looked. There was a certain feeling of inevitability about my situation that hung in the air like the ominous black clouds above us. They were sinister and foreboding and, like Don, impossible to avoid.

Whatever happened was out of my control. Don and the pastor could say whatever they wanted, but I wasn’t going to let them intimidate me anymore. I was sick and tired of being grounded and punished for my sexuality or told the only way of avoiding it was to be straight. Rory was right. It had to stop, and it had to stop now.

I wanted to call Nathan if only to tell him how much I loved him, but my phone had no signal. The thought of being completely disconnected from civilisation was almost as scary as the pastor who arrived on the flybridge to take control and reassure everyone. He was in his element, and other than the floral shorts, he looked truly biblical as he raised his hands to the heavens as if summoning the forces of nature. I was beginning to doubt his sanity but nature answered a few minutes later with the first drops of rain.

“I’m sorry, Rory. If we die, it’s going to be all my fault.”

He couldn’t hear me above the wind, and whenever my lips vibrated against his ticklish ear, he pulled away giggling. The movement of the boat made contact inevitable, and our childish antics rendered intelligible communication impossible, but at least Rory managed to put a smile back on my face—something that all the pastor’s cleverly crafted words had failed to do.