The Cockney Canuck - 159. Chapter 159 The Last One Standing

By the time the skipper cut the engines, Cobourg was nothing more than a grey smudge on the horizon, and everywhere else was water. It looked like we really did have the lake to ourselves, but the dark rolling waves that pushed us in every direction weren’t friendly, and the conditions were slowly worsening.

Despite an ever-decreasing window of opportunity for sailing, the pastor doggedly refused to admit defeat, and the lesson went ahead as scheduled. After steering us into the wind, the skipper used an electric winch to wind the halyard and raise the mainsail before doing the same with the jib. When he released the sheet, the boom swung to port, bringing the boat around until the wind came across the stern at an angle. The sail filled out, and we began to pick up speed. We were finally sailing, but the conditions hampered our progress, and the relentless rocking was beginning to take its toll on an inexperienced crew. Healthy cheeks and smiling faces were replaced with blank stares and greyish-green complexions.

Daniel was the first to be sick and still below deck in the bathroom when Jon—the oldest and tallest of the three church boys—took a turn for the worst. He couldn’t make it downstairs, so he followed the pastor’s instructions and emptied his stomach into the lake, with predictable consequences for everyone else. The sound of him retching over the side of the boat had a knock-on effect, and the rest fell like dominoes.

An hour later, Matthew and I were the last kids still standing and locked in a battle of wits to see who could survive the longest. After his earlier prediction that I would be sick, I was determined to try to prove him wrong, and it seemed like I had his father’s backing.

“I can’t believe it’s your first time,” he bellowed from the flybridge. “It took Matthew ages to get used to it, didn’t it, boy? He used to get sick every time we took him out.”

Matthew grimaced and threw me dirty looks as I basked under the glow of the pastor’s lavish praise, but I wasn’t unaffected, and there were times when the boat dipped so low that my stomach was in my mouth.

I had no idea why I wasn’t sick. Maybe it was something to do with all the swimming I did as a kid. I liked to think those countless hours in the pool were worth more than a lifesaver’s certificate and a nice set of abs, but it was probably just luck.

Rory also had nice abs and a little puppy fat, making him extra huggable. He hadn’t been sick yet but had lost his normal healthy shine and was sitting in the corner of the flybridge with his head between his knees. Seasickness was a debilitating and lonely battle, and I was grateful I wasn’t in the same state.

“It’s no coincidence,” said the pastor. “The Lord has spared you for a reason. You have all the attributes of a good sailor.” He grabbed my upper arm and squeezed my bicep. “Good, firm muscles and strong hands. Matthew’s far too weedy to be much use.”

His son stood beside him rolling his eyes until the pastor’s hand connected with the back of his head. The old man seemed to have an uncanny ability to spot dissent, particularly when it came from his own ranks. I didn’t like Matthew, but I still felt sorry for him. He probably couldn’t have a wank without his dad finding out about it, and I bet even that was against the rules.

After a difficult start to the day, I was beginning to enjoy myself in a perverse kind of way. It seemed almost criminal to be the only one having fun, but sailing was undeniably exciting, and the bad weather added an element of danger that I seemed to crave. Like a giant rollercoaster ride, I was scared, but I didn’t want it to end.

I was pumped full of adrenaline as I sat next to the skipper at the helm. He had the best view in the house, with all the information he needed in front of him on a big screen. Using GPS, he could pinpoint our exact position on the lake while the radar informed him of the approaching storm. This was state-of-the-art sailing, and it boosted my confidence. Despite poor visibility and a daunting skyline, with all these digital aids, we couldn’t possibly go wrong.

“Isn’t this wonderful, Robbie?” exclaimed the pastor, and for once, I had to agree. I was eager to learn, and my reward was a stint behind the wheel steering the boat while the skipper took a well-earned break.

Standing at the controls of a sixty-foot catamaran in rough seas with the wind in our sails was the most exhilarating experience of my life and one that would leave an indelible impression. Under the watchful eye of the pastor, I did nothing more than hold her steady, which wasn’t that difficult, considering there was nothing on the lake to crash into, but it didn’t matter. The skipper was impressed and gave me a firm pat on the back as the waves crashed against the bow covering the forward deck in layers of foamy water.

“You sure picked the wrong day for your first sailing lesson. I hope this doesn’t put you off.”

“Not at all; I love this!”

My argument with Don was now long forgotten, buried beneath an exciting new chapter that seemed custom-made for me. Rather than being dissuaded by the near biblical type conditions, I was ready to sign up for more lessons. Sailing looked like the perfect progression for a kid raised in a swimming pool, and suddenly it all made sense. I was beginning to think the pastor was right.

‘Maybe I would make a good sailor.’

When the skipper took the wheel from me, I celebrated my achievement by punching the air in delight and holding my arms aloft as if I had just scored the winner at Wembley.

I wanted to tell Nathan, but my phone still had no signal, so I turned to Rory. My hands were sweaty, and I was still shaking when I threw my arms around my sick-looking friend and squeezed him against me like a giant teddy bear.

“Did you see that, Rory? I was driving the boat!”

It was a mistake. My exuberant embrace proved too much for Rory’s fragile condition. He tried to push me away and cover his mouth in a last-ditch attempt to stop the inevitable, but it was too late. I was still clinging to him when he heaved and threw up over my shoulder.

Rory jumped away, looking mortified, but the damage was done, and moments later, I felt his warm vomit seeping through my clothing.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, dear,” said the pastor. “It’s not your lucky day, is it?”

I untied my lifejacket and dropped it with my raincoat, then stood in shock, wondering what to do as Rory ran past me to be sick again over the side of the boat. The pastor went with him while Matthew stayed and laughed. If I was going to be sick, this was the moment, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me puke, and my breakfast somehow remained in my stomach.

Under different circumstances, being covered in copious amounts of Rory’s body fluids would have marked the realisation of a well-worn fantasy, but I drew the line at his vomit. I was a mess, and there was an icky wet patch stuck to my back that felt and smelt disgusting.

Matthew was enjoying himself at my expense, and the show got even better when I dragged my soiled t-shirt over my head and threw it at him. He may have hated my guts, but his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree at the sight of me shirtless—a reaction that seemed to confirm my suspicions.

He was embarrassed when I noticed him staring and quickly looked away, but it only compounded his guilt. No straight boy would ever feel the need to avert his eyes at the sight of another boy’s chest. My knowing smile said it all, and the look of resignation on Matthew’s face as he realised his blunder was almost worth the discomfort of being covered in my best friend’s vomit.

When he finished throwing up, Rory looked a lot better, and unlike me, he was surprisingly clean as he apologised and offered me his clothes. I was cold, and the poor boy was riddled with guilt, so I accepted his t-shirt and waited for him to strip.

Matthew couldn’t believe his luck, but the pastor wasn’t happy with our frivolous attempt to swap clothes and ordered Rory to keep himself covered. His son looked disappointed as Rory’s t-shirt stopped tantalisingly short of his nipples before dropping like a curtain covering his delectable midriff with a picture of the Arctic Monkeys.

I was surprised by the sheer power and volume of my friend’s puke. My lifejacket and raincoat were beyond saving, but there was enough on my t-shirt to also warrant its removal, so I was shocked when the pastor told me to put it back on.

“I’m not wearing that!”

“Don’t be silly. There’s hardly anything on it. Give it to me; I’ll clean it for you.”

He held out his hand, but there was no way I was putting that t-shirt back on, so I ended the argument by losing my temper and throwing it over the side of the boat with my jacket. The wind carried them high into the air, like kites, before dropping them into the lake a good fifty yards off the port side.

“I told you I’m not wearing it!”

My open defiance and steely expression in front of the skipper and Matthew were a direct challenge to the pastor’s authority and a shock to his system. He was red with rage as he tried to counter my insolence by suggesting that I was some kind of exhibitionist.

“That was a stupid thing to do. There are girls on this boat; I can’t allow you to walk around half naked without a shirt.”

I was more concerned with the effect my semi-nudity was having on his son than the two girls in the saloon. I couldn’t understand why the pastor was making such a fuss; the town was full of shirtless boys.

“You mean they’ve never been to the beach or a swimming pool before. Boys don’t usually wear shirts in those places.”

The pastor was fuming. He wasn’t used to people disagreeing with him, and he didn’t like my sarcastic tone. He glared at me as if I had just dug up his dead relatives.

“This is my boat. I make the rules around here, not you!”

“I thought you said it belonged to the congregation. All you do is look after it.”

“Stop being so pedantic. That bash on the head hasn’t affected your memory at all, has it?”

“I’m only repeating what you said.”

“STOPPIT!” I jumped as the pastor spat his words at me. “I told you not to question me. You can’t expect me to defend you against Don if you don’t show me some respect.”

It was a direct threat. If I wanted him to talk to Don, I had to comply. He had me by the balls, and we both knew it.

The pastor was accustomed to getting his own way, no matter how absurd the request and the proof was all around us. We had no right being out on the lake in that weather. He was prepared to put our lives in danger rather than admit that he may have got it wrong, but that was okay as long as the girls weren’t corrupted by the sight of a boy’s nipple.

I wanted to tell him what I thought of his hypocrisy, but I couldn’t do it yet. I had to bite my tongue, and the pastor took my silence as a sign of compliance.

“That’s better. I like you when you’re not arguing and disagreeing with everything I say. The glory of young men is their strength: and the beauty of old men is their grey heads. Proverbs twenty, verse something or other. Do you know what that means, Robbie?”

“No, and I don’t care.”

“It means, do as I say and don’t question my judgement.” He had a smug grin as he held up his hand to stop me from replying. “You’re learning. Now, all we have to do is find you something to wear. You must be cold.”

“I might have something for him,” said Matthew. “I keep some spare clothes downstairs.”

I stared at the pastor’s son. It was about time he repaid some of my loyalty, although he could have mentioned it sooner.

“Problem solved,” said the pastor. “Take Robbie with you; he can use one of the cabins to clean himself up while you find him a shirt. Then, providing he doesn’t throw it in the lake, he can return it tomorrow when he joins us for the Easter service.”

Matthew smirked. “He’s going to church?”

“If he keeps to his word.”

“I will if you do,” I added.

Matthew looked puzzled, but his dad smiled as if it was already a done deal. His moods swung like a pendulum, and I was back in his good books.

“Did you enjoy sailing today, Robbie?”

“Yes, a lot.”

“Thought you would. If you want, you can join us next week too. The weather will be better, and you’re a quick learner. I’m convinced you have what it takes.”

“I’ll have to talk to Sue first.”

“Let me know tomorrow after the service.” He glanced at the dark clouds overhead and sighed. “No point in staying out if everyone’s sick. I think we should call it a day and head back.”

The skipper agreed and looked relieved as he pulled on the giant wheel to change course. Finally, it seemed common sense had prevailed and not a minute too soon.

The conditions were still deteriorating when we left the flybridge, and so was Rory. He looked like he was about to have another Mount Vesuvius moment, so I held back and did my best not to warn Matthew, who was distracted by a text message. We were back within range of the mobile networks, and moments later, my phone was beeping to notify me of texts and voicemail.

Rory had nothing left in his stomach to expel, so he went to sit in the saloon, which was doubling as a kind of temporary infirmary for seasick kids. I followed him and nearly tripped over Daniel, who was lying on the floor, looking as green as the carpet.

“He’s better off on the floor,” said Hannah. “It’ll stop him from being sick.”

She was sitting at the table with her friend and staring at me like she had never seen a shirtless boy before. The girls were even more obvious than Matthew—giggling and whispering to each other as I hurried past them to a narrow set of stairs that connected the saloon with the port hull.

Matthew was waiting for me at the bottom. “Don’t worry about them. They’re not allowed down here.”

The cabins were strictly off-limits to the kids from the sailing lessons, so it seemed odd that the pastor was willing to bend the rules for a troublesome, non-believer like me. I got the impression he was prepared to do anything to get me into his church.

“You can use this one,” said Matthew as he led me into a swanky wood-panelled cabin. It was one of three rooms in the port hull reserved for guests of the pastor and his family during his other boat trips. I wasn’t sure what those other trips entailed, but it seemed unlikely the church would buy such an expensive vessel just to teach a few kids how to sail. “There’s a shower in the bathroom.” He pointed across the room at the en-suite, then pressed his back against the wall and breathed in as I squeezed between him and the double bed.

I was no model and not conceited enough to believe my looks were anything other than average, but everyone has their good points, and all that swimming left me with a well-defined upper body. Nathan thought it was my best asset and spent a disproportionate amount of time mapping every muscle and curve from my shoulders down to my navel. I loved watching him drool over my chest or covering it with splashes of his amorous seed, but that was his prerogative.

Matthew’s interest was entirely one-sided. I had no desire for the scrawny lad, but his reaction boosted my ego and presented me with a rare opportunity to weaponize my limited sex appeal.

I poked my head into the bathroom for a quick inspection and then sat on the edge of the bed to scan the room. Like the rest of the boat, it was compact but well-designed and beautifully finished. Every available space was utilised, and there were some cool features.

“Your guests are lucky; this is luxurious.” I fell back onto the bed and pulled open the curtains. The waterline was just below the spray-covered window, but when the boat rolled to port, it was almost completely submerged. “That’s a cool view, don’t you think? I like catamarans. What do these do?” I pointed to some buttons on the headboard.

“Don’t touch those!”

It was too late; I pressed them all and then watched in amazement as the lights dimmed and the wall at the foot of the bed parted to reveal a built-in television.

“Wow, that’s pretty fucking sexy.” I shifted across the bed and patted the space beside me. “Do you wanna watch a movie?” He looked terrified by my suggestion and turned to leave, so I jumped up and stood in the doorway. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To find you something to wear. My cabin is in the starboard hull.”

“You didn’t tell me you had your own cabin. We could’ve gone there instead.”

I was eager to see his wardrobe, but he shook his head. “I’m not allowed to have anyone in my cabin, and I’m not supposed to be here with you.”

He made me laugh. “Your old man doesn’t trust you at all, does he? Did he catch you fucking someone?”

“You shouldn’t talk like that. Not everyone is like you.”

“It must have been the other way around then. I don’t care. I’m easy both ways. I’m gonna take a shower. Are you going to get me that shirt, or do you wanna stay and watch?”

He decided to leave, but he was back before I finished and was sitting on the bed when I left the bathroom with a towel around my waist.

He looked me up and down and blushed as he handed me a folded white polo shirt with the church emblem embroidered on the breast pocket.

“It might be a little small, but at least you’ll be decent.”

“I doubt it, but size isn’t everything, Matthew. I’m sure we can make it fit.” I winked as I took it from him and pointed to a lifejacket on the bed. “Is that for me too?”

“Yes, I got you a clean one. Make sure you put it on.” He stood up, but I grabbed his wrist to stop him from leaving.

“Aren’t you gonna tie the straps for me like before?”

“You don’t need me to do that.”

“I’d prefer it if you did. You get it nice and tight.”

He swallowed and glanced nervously at my towel. “I’ll wait outside for you to get dressed.”

“No need,” I smiled and dropped the towel. Matthew’s eyes followed it to the floor, but I was already wearing my swimming shorts. “You didn’t think I was going to let you see my willy, did you? We hardly know each other.”

“Your willy?” he smirked, “doesn’t interest me.” But his eyes were still glued to my chest as I flexed my muscles and tried to pull on the shirt, only for it to get stuck over my head. It ruined my performance and made him laugh. “You have to undo the buttons first, silly.” He reached across to do it for me, then waited for my head to pop through the opening before straightening my collar.

It was a shame he didn’t laugh more often because he had cute dimples that rarely saw the light of day. Matthew wasn’t a bad-looking kid. He suffered from occasional bouts of teenage acne and was short-sighted, but the spots weren’t permanent, and a pair of nice glasses would have suited him. It was the religion that made him look bland by denying him the opportunity to display perhaps his best feature. His light-brown and naturally wavy hair would have been a game-changer if he were allowed to grow it past the permitted regulation crew cut.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy rain pelting the deck above us. I climbed on the bed to look out the window, hoping to see the harbour, but the choppy waves and bad light made it impossible to see further than a few yards.

“Looks like the storm finally caught up with us,” said Matthew, but he didn’t sound particularly worried, even as the rocking increased.

“Wasn’t we supposed to be back before it got here?”

Matthew shrugged. “Supposed to be.”

“So, what do we do now, pray?”

“You can pray if you want, but it might not work as well as a lifejacket.”

‘Smartass!’

I took his advice and put it on as the rain intensified and the engines spluttered into life at the second attempt.

“We should go upstairs,” said Matthew, but as I sat on the bed to slip on my shoes, the hull dipped violently to port. The bathroom door flew open, and for a while, the window was completely under water before the room levelled out. I could hear things falling to the floor in the saloon, and some of the kids were shouting.

My phone was beeping again, and I remembered I still had messages from earlier. I took it from my pocket as the boat rolled in the other direction knocking me to the floor and my phone across the room. It nestled in the corner by the bathroom and began ringing.

“You’re popular,” said Matthew. He picked it up and handed it to me with a broad smile. The display read Nathan. “Well, aren’t you going to answer it?”

I stared at Matthew and then at the phone. I knew Nathan wouldn’t call me unless it were important, so I snatched it from him and pressed the green button.

My boyfriend sounded relieved to hear my voice.

“Where are you? I’ve been trying to call you.”

“I told you we were going sailing. We had no signal. We’ll be back soon.”

There was a brief silence before he yelled down the phone. “You mean, you’re still out there? Are you crazy? You should have been back ages ago!”

“Calm down. It’s okay; we’re heading back to the harbour now. It’s really not that bad.”

“Well, it’s fucking bad here. You shouldn’t be on a boat in a storm, Robbie, even I know that. I’ve been worried sick. I tried calling Daniel and Rory but couldn’t get through to anyone. I thought something bad had happened.”

My boyfriend was emotional, and I suppose he had every reason to be upset. I held onto the wall as more waves tossed the catamaran from side to side in a relentless assault on my equilibrium.

Our lives may have been in danger, but Nathan’s tirade gave me a warm feeling. He was worried about me, and that equated to love. The kind of love that made me giddy, light-headed, and an unapologetic sexual reprobate. I had been dealing with it for weeks, unsure if he felt the same way.

“Were you really worried about me?”

“Of course, and I still am. It’s not funny.”

“Sorry,” I giggled. “I just think it’s cool, that’s all. Does this mean you love me?”

“Oh my God, Robbie. Of course, I love you. But this is not the right time to be having this conversation. Just get home safely.” Then he lowered his voice, flawlessly switching modes from panic to seductive in a blink of the eye. “We can talk about that stuff later, okay? When we’re … naked.”

Nathan was the only person capable of giving me an instant erection over the phone with just one hushed word, albeit stretched to its max and full of suggestion. I felt myself rising in my shorts and was forced to turn my back on Matthew.

“I have to go, Nathan.”

“Why, did something come up?”

“Yes, and it’s all your fault.” I glanced over my shoulder at a curious-looking Matthew. He was standing as far away as the small room would allow, but he could still hear every word I said.

“Don’t blame your lack of self-control on me,” said Nathan. “You got into this mess by insisting on hanging out with a load of religious seamen.”

“They’re only kids, actually.”

“I stand by what I said, thank you. But I’m not angry at you; you’re not the one steering the boat.”

“Well, actually ….”

“Oh, you might wanna call Sue and let her know you and Daniel are still alive because she’s gone totally ape shit. I mean it, she’s called me three times in the last hour, and she’s been talking to the coast guard!”

‘Shit!’

I didn’t reckon on Sue, but her name was a perfect and lightning-fast antidote for an unwanted erection. She was a worrier. I needed to speak to her, so I told Nathan I would call him back when we were safely ashore.

“Be careful. I don’t want to watch them dragging your body from the lake!”

The thought made me shudder as I sat on the bed and tried to call Sue, but her phone was busy.

“Was that your boyfriend?”

I glared at Matthew, but it wasn’t worth trying to deny it.

“What was it that gave us away?”

Matthew smiled. His religious upbringing may have stopped him from pointing out the obvious, but I had a feeling that’s what he thought when he glanced at my crotch and blushed.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. You’ve kept my secret about Symmonds; I’ll keep yours.”

“I know you’re gay, Matthew. Why don’t you just admit it? You’ll feel a lot better telling someone. I might even be able to help. You know, give you some advice.”

“You’re wrong about me. I like girls.” He paused while he checked the tiny corridor to be sure we were alone, then whispered. “It’s just that sometimes I think I like boys too.”

“Sometimes, you think?” I laughed and then held onto the doorframe as the boat crested a wave and dropped like a stone. Matthew nearly had to find me another shirt to wear as I struggled to keep my breakfast down.

“Are you okay?”

I wiped my mouth. “Yeah, I’m fine. So, you’re bisexual? That’s allowed. You don’t have to be ashamed. I’ve slept with girls and boys.”

“I know you have, but I’m not looking to you for moral guidance. Except maybe as an example of how not to behave.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who gave you a sense of humour?”

“Oh, it wasn’t a joke; I was being serious. I hope you’re not offended.”

“Of course not. I enjoy being insulted. But if you’re so perfect, why were you seeing Symmonds?”

“I was talking to someone online. That’s all. I never met him, but my dad found out. Then he checked my internet history. I didn’t even know they could do that. There were sites I visited that they didn’t like, so they sent me to Mr Symmonds. It’s what they do.”

“So, you haven’t got a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

He shook his head vigorously. “One day, I’ll get married and have a family, and then I won’t have to think about this stuff anymore.”

'I wouldn’t bank on it.'

The kid was delusional. I thought I had problems, but my life was a piece of cake compared to his. They treated him like a criminal, yet I doubt he did anything more than beat off to a few pictures he found online.

“Are you happy now you know everything about me?”

“Happy? No. It means Symmonds beat you up, and you weren’t even doing anything wrong. Well, wrong in his eyes, I mean. I don’t think what you weren’t doing was wrong, even if you were doing it if you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Good, it’s not supposed to.”

Matthew chuckled; that was twice in a few minutes and had to be some kind of record.

“You’re funny,” he said.

“Thanks, but I’m only trying ….”

“To help me. I know. You don’t give up, do you?”

“Never!”

I grabbed the door as the floor dipped again to an angle that made it impossible to stand. There were several loud crashes in the saloon, and the shouts became screams as the boat righted itself with force. I was thrown against the wall with Matthew on top of me. He rolled away and managed to stand up before grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. His dad was wrong about him being weedy.

“Thanks. So, what happens now? Are you considered cured?”

“They still watch me like a hawk, and I’m not allowed to associate with anyone outside the church. I don’t go out unless it’s with someone they trust, so I don’t have a life of my own. The only fun I have is sailing.”

“You call this fun?”

He laughed again. “I like it when it’s rough like this. I’m a bit of a thrill-seeker.”

“Really? Me, too. I guess we do have something in common, after all. Maybe we can be friends instead of insulting each other all the time.”

“I told you I’m not allowed to associate with anyone who doesn’t go to my church.” He paused to think about what he said before correcting himself. “But I guess after tomorrow, that rule no longer applies to you.”

“Cool. Shall we spit in our palms and shake hands, or cut ourselves and write our names in blood?”

“That’s a joke, right?”

“Yeah, I can see it’s gonna be tough to get one over on you.”

“What are you doing?” The pastor made me jump. He must have crept down the stairs.

“We were only talking,” said Matthew.

The pastor looked at me. “I thought you said he never talked to you. Not a word, you said.”

“That was before we became friends.”

“Friends?”

“Robbie’s going to our church now, Dad. We’re allowed to be friends.”

The pastor shook his head and muttered. “Lord, give me strength. He hasn’t even set foot in the place yet, Matthew. But that’s not important. I need you, boys, upstairs with everyone else.”

“Are we gonna be okay?”

“Of course, the Lord protects the righteous, Matthew.”

I noticed he didn’t mention me in that statement, but when we reached the saloon and got a better view of the conditions, I wasn’t sure if anyone would survive if we had an accident. I began thinking about my lifesaver’s training—a course completed entirely in an indoor pool. It was gruelling, but it didn’t deal with these conditions because we weren’t expected to save anyone in a storm. It simply wasn’t possible. I was a strong swimmer, but if we ended up in the lake, my chances of making it out alive, even with a lifejacket, were next to zero. Because of my training, I probably understood this better than everyone else. That was the only advantage it gave me.

The saloon was a mess. The floor was littered with personal belongings and items that had fallen out of cupboards that weren’t adequately secured. The pastor told us to sit with the other kids at the back of the saloon while he re-joined the skipper on the flybridge.

We picked our way through the chaos to the table where Rory sat with Jon, Hannah, and her friend. Daniel and the other boy were on the floor beside them with their backs against the breakfast bar.

Despite my grim evaluation of our chances should things go awry, I stopped to check my brother’s lifejacket and tightened the straps for him as Matthew had done for me.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Mom called me. She was freaking out.”

“I bet. I’ll call her from the harbour.” I remembered Sue instructing me to look after him, but there was little more I would be able to do to help.

Rory wanted to talk to me, so Hannah stood up and allowed me to slide along the bench to sit next to him. Then, she cut off my escape route by claiming the end seat ahead of Matthew, who was forced to sit at the breakfast bar. My friend looked better but still felt bad about throwing up over me, even though it was mostly my fault.

“Forget it. You’re not the first person to be sick over me.”

“Really?” said Rory. “It’s happened to you before?”

I nodded and looked around the table at the others. “Tom, Thorpe Park, two-thousand and nine. We queued for an hour for Saw; then, he spewed in my lap. Sorry Rory, but you weren’t my first.”

Judging by their vacant expressions, no one knew what I was talking about, and they weren’t brave enough to ask, so I left it to their imaginations.

“There’s the lighthouse,” said Jon, standing up to get a better view. We were just outside the harbour but probably in more danger than out on the lake. The entrance was narrow, and we had a wider-than-average boat that the skipper was struggling to control.

Despite being surrounded by windows, the rain and mist made it difficult to see, and maybe this was a good thing. We couldn’t see the enormous waves as they rolled towards us until a few seconds before they passed underneath, lifting the boat high into the air. Every surge was met with moans of discomfort from the kids, but considering the circumstances, they were remarkably composed.

As we approached the entrance to the harbour, Hannah grabbed my hand. I thought she was scared, but then I noticed everyone doing the same thing, linking hands around the table. She nodded towards Rory, who looked baffled as I clasped his sweaty palm to close the circle. It was a church thing, and when we were all connected, Jon prayed for our safe return. I thought it was nice of them to include us in their payers and sat respectfully throughout with my eyes closed while trying to ignore Hannah's subtle squeezes. She eventually managed to lace our fingers together, and I was tempted to do the same with Rory, but I didn’t want to push my luck.

When Jon finished praying, no one broke the circle or said a word as the skipper opened up the throttles, and the boat rattled and shook under the strain.

The lighthouse was just off the starboard bow, but the waves were pushing us in the opposite direction towards the concrete breakwater. Catamarans have two engines, so we had double the power of a monohull, and it was a good job we did. As the skipper squeezed every ounce of strength from the screaming engines, the waves carried us sideways, and the port hull must have cleared the wall by no more than a couple of feet.

There was a collective sigh of relief as we entered the sheltered harbour, followed by a spontaneous round of applause from sweaty hands. The skipper was the unsung hero, and he remained on the flybridge to steer the boat to the dock while the pastor praised God for our deliverance.

I thought it was unfair on the skipper, who deserved most of the credit. After all, wasn’t it God who controlled nature and the storm that was trying to kill us? When I suggested this to the pastor, he accused me of insulting the Lord and looked ready to declare me a heretic before his son intervened on my behalf.

“It’s not his fault, Dad. He’s never been to church before. I think he wants to be good but doesn’t know how.”

Who would have thought Matthew would end up defending me. But I suppose that’s what friends are for, so I waited until we ditched our lifejackets before thanking my new buddy in the only way I knew. The poor boy looked terrified when I pulled him towards me for a breath-stopping man-hug accompanied by a brutal slap on the back that made him yell.

“Give me your cellphone number; we can talk later.”

“You want my number?”

“Well, yeah! If we’re friends, we have to text each other. You do know how to text, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Use plenty of smiley faces and LOL’s and always delete our conversations afterwards. We don’t want your dad reading them, do we?”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t cool. He’s way too old.”

Matthew looked worried as I punched his number into my phone and sent him a text.

“I’m not sure I should be doing this. Can I trust you not to send me anything inappropriate?”

“Absolutely not. I only send inappropriate stuff.”

He looked at me as if he was trying to work out if I was serious or not, then he jumped and pocketed his phone when his dad called him. “I have to go help tie the boat.”

“Enjoy.”

I wasn’t sure if I would really text him, and it seemed unlikely that we would ever become genuine friends like I was with Rory, but I felt good for trying.

Approximately three hours after leaving the dock, we moored in the same place, a little shaken and bruised but thankfully without any serious injuries. It could have been much worse, and waiting in the pouring rain to greet us were two grim-faced members of the coastguard. I suspected the pastor would have some explaining to do, especially if Sue had her way.

As far as I was concerned, our brush with disaster was entirely his fault. He should have listened to the skipper and paid more attention to the weather warnings. Yet, I suspected the pastor would find a way to escape blame and even portray himself as a hero. He was already rehearsing his lines.

“Never underestimate the value of prayer, Robbie. The Lord always listens.”

“Were you praying then, pastor?”

“Of course, and the Lord answered.”

“But you weren’t the only one praying. How do you know it was you who he answered? Maybe it was someone else?”

“You’re right. The Lord listens to every prayer, but divine intervention is something that only God’s representatives on earth can expect to be granted.” He grinned and pushed me away before I could think of a smart reply. “I’ll see you in church tomorrow. Don’t worry; I’ve arranged a ride for you. Just be ready for nine o’clock.”

I wasn’t sure if he expected us to thank him for his prayers, but the fact that he was willing even to consider peddling this crap pushed him further up my list of untrustworthy characters. There were only a couple ahead of him, and all three had connections with the church I was supposed to be attending the following morning.

Before leaving, I made sure to visit the flybridge to shake the hand of the real hero and ask him his name.

“Joseph,” said the skipper, and he sounded almost grateful that I bothered to ask. I knew it had to be biblical, but Joseph didn’t share the same annoying characteristics as the other adults who attended that church. He wasn’t overly talkative, condescending, or self-righteous like Don, the pastor and Mr Symmonds.

I underestimated Joseph’s ability and allowed myself to judge him unfavourably simply because he belonged to the church. Luckily for us, he knew what he was doing, but he needed to be more assertive when dealing with the pastor.

It was still raining when I left the flybridge to join Daniel and Rory under the canopy in the aft cockpit. Nicola was coming to collect us, so we decided to wait on the boat with the others rather than get wet, although Matthew’s tight polo shirt was already soaked and stuck to my skin.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to church tomorrow,” smirked Daniel.

“I have my reasons.”

“I know,” he grinned. “Here she is now.”

“Wait a minute; I’ll ask him.” I winced at the sound of Hannah’s high-pitched voice behind me. She was holding a cellphone which she muted with her hand while she talked. “My mom wants to know if you need a ride to church tomorrow.”

I was confused. “Your mom?”

“The pastor told me you probably wouldn’t go with your dad, so I thought you might want to come with us instead. We can pick you up; it’s not a problem.”

“But I don’t even know if I’m going yet.”

“I think you’ll enjoy it. You can sit with us; I’ll explain everything.”

Her mom was waiting for an answer, so I accepted their offer if only to get them off my case. I suppose it had to be better than getting a ride with Don.

While Hannah talked to her mom, Daniel was teasing me. He looked a lot better now, but I think I preferred him when he was ill.

“She’s a little young for you, don’t you think?”

Hannah was more outgoing than the other church kids, with a bubbly personality, shiny braces, and an innocent freckled face that made her look even younger than her age. After ending her call, she positioned herself next to me with a dreamy expression that made me shudder.

I needed to put her straight on a few things before they got out of hand, so I pulled her aside.

“Look, Hannah. I appreciate that you wanna be my friend, and you’re a nice girl and everything, but there are things you don’t know about me.”

She gave me a reassuring smile and touched my arm. “It’s okay; I know everything about you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. The pastor told me, and I’ve seen you in school with that boy. It’s okay, Robbie. We’re here for you. We want to help you.”

“Who's we?”

“The congregation. It’s good that you chose God. We’re proud of you.”

“But I didn’t choose anything. I’m only going tomorrow because I have to. I made a deal because it’s better than being grounded, but I’m not about to change my life.”

I thought I made it clear, but Hannah’s smile never faltered. The happy clappers weren’t easily dissuaded.

“I can introduce you to my friends; you’ll like them.”

“Well, they’re not gonna like me.”

“We’re here for everyone.”

“You’re not listening to me, Hannah. I’m queer, and I’m not gonna change!”

Daniel and Rory stopped talking to stare at us. Maybe I was a bit loud, but I needed to convey my message, and it seemed like I was finally getting through.

“It’s not my place to discuss your problems.”

“The only problem I have is your fucking religion! Why can’t you people just leave me alone?”

Hannah looked close to tears as she stepped away and clattered into my brother. “I’ll tell the pastor you can’t go.”

I slapped my forehead in frustration, but Daniel saved my skin by jumping in front of her and apologising for me.

“My brother’s had a bad day; I’m sure he didn’t mean to shout at you.”

I wasn’t sure if Daniel was aware of my situation or if he just felt sorry for her, but it was a mistake for him to get involved.

“I didn’t know you were brothers. Are you Don’s son too?” Daniel nodded. It was another mistake, and her next question was obvious. “Why don’t you come with us tomorrow?”

‘Busted!’

I thought it was noble of Daniel to sacrifice himself for me, and I couldn’t blame Hannah for dropping me like a stone in favour of my less problematic brother. They were more compatible. He was straight, closer to her age, and could suck his own dick—a worthwhile talent when dating a virtuous church girl, although I was yet to see any proof.

While Hannah tried to talk Daniel into going to church with her, I took my chances in the storm with Rory and made a dash for the clubhouse at the front of the harbour. He insisted on sharing his raincoat, so we held it over our heads and huddled together as we battled the driving rain while inevitably getting soaked. It didn’t matter. The wetter we got, the funnier it became, and when we reached the clubhouse, we were laughing so much we could hardly stand up.

The office was closed, but there was a covered seating area along the side where we could shelter until someone collected us. We held onto each other and leaned against the wall while we caught our breath.

“I’m sorry I almost got you killed today.”

“And I’m sorry I threw up over you.”

We chuckled as rainwater dripped from our hair and drenched clothing. He looked much better now, and the colour had returned to his damp cheeks.

“I’m glad it was you and not someone else.” I don’t know why I said that. It sounded weird and created a rare awkward moment between us, but it was probably true. I was sure it would have been even more disgusting if it came from someone else’s mouth, although I couldn’t explain why.

“You know you can stay at our house if you need to. You don’t even have to call; just show up at the door.”

“I know.” I put my arms around his waist and rested my head against his chest. Other than Tom, Rory was the only friend comfortable with this level of intimacy, and like my English friend, it often felt like our relationship transcended mere friendship.

I was crying when I lifted my head.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry. You must think I’m a real loser.”

“No, I don’t think that at all.”

“I’m sixteen years old and crying, and I don’t even know why.”

“It doesn’t matter, Robbie. You’re never too old to cry. I cried last week when I found out Rebecca was cheating on me.”

I looked at my friend through misty eyes as the rainwater dripped from my nose. “I’m sorry. You should’ve called me.”

“Nah, I figured you had enough problems of your own. Besides, she didn’t mean that much to me. If anything, it helped me figure things out. I’m happier now.”

I didn’t know he was having problems and felt guilty for not paying more attention.

“Well, I’ll always be here for you, Rory. You know that, right?”

I rested my hands on his shoulders and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. It was only a peck—the type of kiss I usually got from Sue or Nicola, but unlike me, Rory didn’t cringe and wipe his face with his sleeve. If anything, he looked like he enjoyed it.

“What was that for?” he grinned.

“For being such a cool person.”

“You must have me mixed up with someone else, but I’m okay with that.”

I wondered which part he was okay with, me calling him cool or the kiss. I suspected both, and it was this underlying element of uncertainty that made our friendship so appealing.

*     *     *

The rain had stopped, but I was already soaked to the skin when Nicola stopped in the no-parking zone at the front of the marina to take us home. Daniel and I were the last ones to be collected, and we must have looked a sorry sight when Nicola checked us out and refused to allow us in her car.

“You’re gonna make the seats wet; what happened to your raincoat?”

“You don’t wanna know,” said Daniel.

My sister was ridiculously fussy when it came to her new car. She made Daniel take off his coat, and I had to lose my t-shirt, but as I went to join my brother in the back, her arm came down in front of my chest.

“What now?”

Nicola came prepared and had an evil grin as she handed me a beach towel and pointed at my shorts.

“Take 'em off!”

“You’re mad! I’m not doing that.”

“What’s wrong with you? Use the towel. No one will see anything. People get changed like that all the time on the beach.”

Technically, this wasn’t the beach but a public sidewalk, and I had nothing to change into, but that didn’t worry Nicola, who wasn’t going to budge until she got my shorts. She laughed when I made her turn around and look the other way before wrapping the towel around my waist and pushing my shorts to my ankles.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny.”

“Oh, stop being a baby and get in the car.” She slammed the door behind me and picked up my wet shorts as if they were contaminated before placing them in a plastic bag along with the rest of our clothes.

Unlike the church kids, Nicola wasn’t bothered by my near nudity, providing her seats didn’t get wet, but to Daniel, it was a handicap worth exploiting. He spent the ride home attacking me and trying to remove my towel in retaliation for leaving him with Hannah.

I defended myself by pushing his hands away before engaging in a brutal tug-of-war that ended when I punched him on the arm.

“What are you doing back there?”

“Daniel’s trying to grab my balls.”

“No, I’m not! He just hit me for no reason.”

As he spoke, I hit him again. Hard on his shoulder, making him wince, and Nicola swerve as she turned to shout at us. After surviving a storm on the lake, I didn’t want to get killed on the way home from the harbour, so I signalled a truce with my brother, knowing our battle would continue later.

Amy thought it was funny when I walked into the house wearing nothing but a beach towel, but I knew Sue would want an explanation. She waited while I ran downstairs with Daniel to throw on a t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants before calling us into the kitchen.

“Rory was sick over my clothes.”

Daniel smirked. “So he threw them in the lake.”

“Not all of them.” I elbowed my brother, then frowned at Sue as she chuckled. It wasn’t the reaction I expected. “Why are you laughing?”

“It doesn’t matter, dear. Your clothes aren’t important.” I shared a worried glance with Daniel as Sue beckoned us towards her for a very motherly embrace. “Right now, I’m just happy to have my boys back.”

I could sense her relief as she squeezed the air from our lungs and refused to let go. Until then, I hadn’t given it much thought, but with two of her children on that boat, I could only imagine what must have been going through her mind.

Despite my claims to the contrary, Sue shared her love equally with her children, and it was never more evident than that afternoon. As I competed with Daniel to return her hugs, we were joined, almost inevitably, by Amy, Nicola, and then somewhat bizarrely, by a tearful Mr Lube. His albatross-like arm span held us together until the stale smell of weed became unbearable, and a familiar car on the driveway signalled the return of my nemesis.