Travels - 8. Hungry Heart

Sunday, 27 July 2014

During his previous visit to Australia, CJ had learned his bud was a late riser. On Sunday morning, following their late night at the club, he decided to allow Owen to sleep hoping he’d recover sufficiently to avoid a bad hangover. The Aussie had consumed a heck of a lot more alcohol than he had. After using the bathroom and making himself a cup of tea, he sat on the chair by the hotel room’s window and fired up the laptop to do some surfing. He was feeling lazy himself after the evening of drinking and dancing, and they didn’t have much planned for the day. When they did eventually leave the room in search of food, he was armed with basic knowledge of two of Canberra’s best-known landmarks: Parliament House and Old Parliament House.

“What do you want to do later this afternoon, mate?” They were climbing the steps leading to the entrance of the white building which had housed Australia’s parliament for some six decades.

“I’m thinking we could take it easy. Maybe get a workout in at the hotel?” CJ replied, looking up at the three-story structure. It had classical lines like many of the government buildings back in Washington. The building reminded him of the neo-classical Federal style of the White House with its symmetry and order, but it lacked some of the more decorative details like columns and pediments.

“We can do that. Maybe dinner and a movie? Wooden Town Centre has shopping, food, and a cinema. We can just bum around today and then go for a short hike tomorrow morning if you’re up for it.”

“Sure, that all sounds good. But you better not plan on sleeping until almost noon like you did today. Where do you plan to take me hiking?”

“Canberra’s surrounded by natural preserves and parks. Its nickname’s the Bush Capital. There’s plenty of places to escape to from the concrete jungle this place’s become. We can figure out exactly where to go later.” Owen tilted his head in the direction of the structure in front of them and grinned. “I’m sure you’re going to give me American history lessons once we get to Washington. Let’s get a little Aussie political history in you now. Welcome to the Museum of Australian Democracy at Old Parliament House.”

Built in the 1920s, Old Parliament House was erected as the temporary home for Australia’s national legislators, and reopened as the Museum of Australian Democracy at Old Parliament House after a new building opened in the late 1980s. Although the older structure was interesting, CJ found the newer home of the Senate and House of Representatives much more to his liking.

It had been placed in alignment with the Old Parliament House, behind the building when viewed from the lake, a large portion of it buried beneath Capital Hill. The designers had borrowed a few elements from the original structure, but the scale was massive in comparison. Not clearly visible from the ground, but recognizable in the aerial photos CJ found online, the building’s shape evoked a boomerang topped by a massive stainless steel pole flying a gigantic Australian flag.

Later in the day, after spending time in the fitness room of the hotel, the guys sent Patrick a message wishing him a happy fifteenth birthday before going out for dinner and an encore viewing of X-Men: Days of Future Past.

Monday, 28 July 2014

“Happy birthday, Papa! Careful what you say. I have you on speaker. Owen’s here with me.”

“Hey, dude, thank you. Hi, Owen. Where are you guys? Sounds kinda noisy.”

“Happy birthday, Captain.” Owen uselessly waved at the phone, making CJ shake his head. “We’re at GIO Stadium in Canberra.”

“Yeah, Papa, get with the program. You should know where we are. I just posted a selfie of us in front of the entrance.” CJ’s twisted grin and increasingly teasing tone telegraphed his intent to pick on his father. “Is the advanced age starting to bother you? Isn’t the mind the first thing to go? Or is it the dick collapse that starts it off?”

“Screw you, dude. I ain’t old. Everything’s still in working order and just to prove it, now that you’ve woken us up, I’m going to screw your father into the mattress to show you I can still function.”

“Yeow! TMI! TMI!” CJ spewed the words as peals of laughter reached across the distance to Washington. “That’s Owen laughing in case you’re wondering. He’s already mentioned how much he likes me picking on you guys a couple of times this trip.”

“LIAR! I said no such thing, Captain.”

CJ pushed Owen off the bench they were sitting on while chuckling. “So, what are you guys doing to celebrate? And if you mention anything about sex, I’ll tell Dad to cut you off.”

“Your dad and I are going to dinner at Fiola Mare tonight.”

CJ mouthed the words, fancy restaurant and expensive for Owen's benefit.

“And we bought me a theatre.”

“A theatre? Like a home theatre for the new basement? That’s awesome.”

Brett’s rich baritone laughter caused CJ and Owen to glance at each other with questioning looks. “Sorry, dude, but that was funny. We bought an actual movie house. The old Georgetown Theatre up on Wisconsin Avenue. I kept staring at it―empty and boarded up―every time I went to the new office, so we decided to have Dash look into it for me. It’s been vacant for a while and needs serious work. We plan to restore some of it, rehab the rest, and create a multi-use place. You’ll see it when you get back home.”

“Right, sure, like I’m gonna wait until then. You know I’m asking Google about it as soon as we hang up.” CJ’s flippant tone masked his surprise. He could not tell whether his father was being serious or facetious. “Did you really buy a movie theatre?”

“We made an offer on Friday and Dasan’s certain it’ll be accepted. You can explain to Owen who Dash is. We hope to hear back today. What are you guys doing at this GE Stadium?”

“Gio, Papa, Gio Stadium. Not GE. Guess the hearing also goes when you reach old―”

“Asshole!”

“―age. We’re here for a rugby match. Remember the guy Owen and I met at the beach when we were in Sydney?”

“The naked selfie stud with the big uncut thing between his legs?”

“It’s called a dick Papa. And yes, him. Owen got in touch with him when I gave him the dates I’d be here this summer. Well, winter down under. The guy plays for the Sydney Rabbitohs and they’re in town for a match against the Canberra Raiders. It’s the only game he’s playing while I’m in town, so he arranged tickets for us and that’s why we ended up here anyway.”

“On a Monday? I guess it’s like our Monday Night Football?”

“Owen’s nodding his head. Anyway, we gotta go. Hope you have fun at dinner tonight and I’ll see you in a week. Oh, text me if they accept the offer. I think it’ll be cool to own a movie theatre, so I wanna hear. Love you, Papa.”

“You know something, mate?” Owen said after CJ had put the phone back in his coat pocket. “I love the way you get on with your dads.”

“I’m lucky. They’re both young and treat me like a friend most of the time. Papa can be a little helicopterish at times, and Dad can be downright stern in his lectures. But I know they love me and that rocks.”

“Well, you’re a lovable little kid,” Owen said, chuckling.

“Fuck you kindly, asshole,” CJ replied, taking a swing and hitting Owen on the shoulder. “Love ya too.”

The bantering between the two friends came to a halt as they tried to find the correct place to retrieve their tickets for the game, stopped at the concession stand for a beer, and then made their way to their seats. CJ unzipped his jacket, revealing a red, white, and blue USA Rugby jersey beneath which attracted the attention of and comments from other fans. The temperature had been cool the entire day and was expected to drop as night settled in, so CJ had worn a long sleeve thermal t-shirt underneath the team shirt he’d packed as a lark, not knowing at the time he’d be attending a match.

On the way to the stands, Owen gave CJ a short history on the stadium, explaining there were plans for either a replacement or major upgrading being talked about. The current facility was over thirty years old, seated about 25,000, and lacked many of the amenities found in more modern stadiums. The current moniker had come about at the beginning of 2014 when GIO Insurance entered into a sponsorship arrangement that granted them naming rights.

“Hey, I forgot to ask you before, did the news about Todd Carney make it over to America?”

“Who’s that? Don’t think I’ve heard of him before.”

“Oh, mate, you’re in for a treat.” Owen placed his beer on the ground and fumbled for his phone. “Carney’s a rugger. Used to play for Cronulla until they dismissed him after this picture went viral last month. Check it out.”

“Fuck! He’s pissing in his own mouth?” CJ slapped a hand over his mouth, afraid he’d spoken loud enough for others to hear, but when he looked around nobody seemed to be paying him any attention.

“I’m pretty sure most gay men have this one saved in their phones along with the ones Burgess posted showing his unit. I don’t think Carney’s as big though.” Owen handed the phone over so CJ could get a better look. In what appeared to be a public restroom, a young guy with short hair and a full sleeve inked on his left arm stood hunched over slightly, holding his khakis open with one hand while the other one grasped his dick. A stream of urine could be seen flying upwards towards his open mouth; a drop of liquid glistened at the tip of his tongue. “He musta been thirsty after a night of drinking and couldn’t find a bubbler.”

“That looks like fun,” CJ replied, smirking. “And he looks cute, I’d do him. But I’m not sure I’m ready for that type of play. At least not in front of a camera.”

A dubious-looking Owen went on to explain Carney had at one point played for the Canberra Raiders before becoming a Cronulla Shark and supposedly had found himself in trouble with them when he’d peed on somebody’s head. When CJ inquired about where Cronulla was, he found out it was one of the teams calling Metropolitan Sydney home. Fully half the teams in the league played in Australia’s largest city and its suburbs, and two of them—the Roosters and the Rabbitohs—had both been in existence since 1908. They were known as foundation clubs. The Rabbitohs were now partly owned by actor Russell Crowe, who’d been instrumental in luring the four Burgess brothers from England.

“So, they’re a good team? The Rabbitohs?”

“Haven’t been for a while, mate. I think it’s over forty years since they won the premiership. But that might change. They’re looking good this year.”

“How’d they get their name?”

“Nobody’s sure, there’s a few different stories about it. But you know rabbits are a pest in Australia, right?"

“Yeah, I remember from the last trip. You said you’d gone hunting with your grandfather for them and I saw a bunch running all over the place when we climbed the Harbour Bridge and could see the ground below through the grating.”

“Right! Anyway, my favorite tale of how the Bunnies got their name is that it harks to the times when the club was founded. Back then, a rabbitoh was a guy who captured and skinned rabbits and then sold the meat. They would shout, ‘rabbit-oh!’ around the markets to attract buyers. Supposedly, some of the club's players earned extra money on Saturday mornings as rabbit-oh men. They played in blood-stained shirts and the opposing team would taunt them by repeating the cry.”

Looking around the stands, CJ realized the stadium was only about a third full. The vociferous crowd cheered for the home team but it was evident they were not very good. Owen claimed they were a solid bet to win the wooden spoon as the team finishing in last place, and the final result reflected his assessment: South Sydney beat Canberra 34-18.

After the match ended, they made their way into the bowels of the stadium―past dejected fans wearing the lime green primary color of the Raiders―searching for the visitors’ locker room. The credentials left with their admission tickets granted them access and they were able to stop by and say hello to George Burgess, thank him for his courtesy, and meet his brothers and several other team members. CJ surreptitiously looked at all the athletes in various stages of undress and at least once had to wipe a trickle of drool from his lips. There was a lot of beef in the room and he felt as if he was starving.

When the athlete inquired about CJ’s playing, he explained the club he’d joined at school had disbanded after the teacher who’d started it moved away. No other faculty member had stepped forward to take the coach’s place so his rugby playing career had been short-lived and was now on hold.

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Nah, mate. We’ve got all the time in the world.” Owen gave CJ a quick side glance before returning his attention to the road ahead.

The drive from Canberra to Sydney was a three-hour trip on the M31, but the guys spent more than twice that amount of time on the road. CJ had suggested they follow the coast instead of the more direct route. The Grand Pacific Drive took them through Wollongong, where they stopped to stretch their legs with a walk along the shore of the Pacific Ocean and to have lunch.

They talked about rugby and the possibility of Owen joining the Washington Scandals―the gay team based in D.C.―and the lousy timing of their flight to the US. The Mark Kendall Bingham Memorial Tournament, a biennial international gay rugby tournament, was being held in Sydney in August right after they were flying to Miami. The Bingham Cup was named for a former University of California Berkley rugby player who perished in the September 11 attacks on board the plane that crashed on a field in Pennsylvania. CJ had read about the guy and knew him to be one of a group of passengers who fought with the hijackers aboard the flight, preventing a possible catastrophe in Washington, but accepting their deaths as a way of saving others.

Owen asked a lot of questions about Florida, Miami, and what he could expect once they arrived. CJ promised they’d get his fill of Cuban food while in Miami when the Aussie admitted he’d never tried it. He also allayed the language fears the guy admitted to since he spoke no Spanish, promising his grandparents were fluent in English even if they all spoke with pronounced accents.

The sun had set by the time they arrived in Sydney and they drove directly to their hotel. Owen had originally planned for them to crash at his brother’s apartment but CJ had convinced him to return to the Russell Hotel where they’d stayed before. The central location was appealing, and convenient for them to explore places CJ had missed during his previous visit.

Wednesday, 30 July 2014

Although Sydney wasn’t Australia’s capital, it was the largest city in the country, a cosmopolitan metropolis with a diverse population and a strong economy driven by the financial sector and tourism. The Harbour Bridge and Sydney Opera House were landmarks known the world over and had been the two places at the top of CJ’s to-do list during his initial visit.

With no particular destination in mind, CJ and Owen mingled with the mid-week throngs of Sydneysiders crowding the sidewalks of the Central Business District. They strolled south in the direction of Hyde Park, with Owen looking somewhat morose and being quieter than normal.

“What’s up, bud?” CJ asked. “You’re not saying much.”

“Sorry, mate. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Well, this morning while you were showering, I went online to check on the link you gave me. I wanted to print out my ticket and boarding pass for the flights to Miami and then Washington. I noticed the one to Miami was in business class and from there to Washington in first. Didn’t we discuss finances before? I thought you promised not to pay for everything last time. And I think that would include not spending large amounts of money on stuff I didn’t think I could afford.”

“So what’s your point?” CJ tried not to sound too annoyed but miserably failed. He didn’t feel like having a financial discussion with Owen again.

“The point’s I agreed you could pay for the difference between my original reserved flight and the one with the stop in Florida. But I would have flown tourist and not fancy.”

“You and I didn’t agree to anything about that part of the trip. We talked about splitting expenses here in Australia. And I’ve kept my part of the bargain. Don’t go blaming me for shit I had nothing to do with. Take it up with my dads when you see them in a few days. They made the arrangements.”

“But you knew about this. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t think about it, okay? Because I don’t think money’s a big deal. More so between friends. Yeah, I know we talked about it and that my dads and I aren’t typical. But it doesn’t mean shit to me. You e-mailed back and forth with them. You agreed to them paying the difference when they invited you to join us in Miami. We’ve split our expenses this trip evenly, and I don’t want to hear this crap anymore.” CJ stuck his hands in his pants, looked down at the sidewalk, and kicked a piece of trash to the curb. He was pissed Owen was once again making money an issue but he didn’t want to fight with the Aussie.

Owen remained silent for a few moments. He seemed to be thinking things over following CJ’s outburst. When he once again spoke it was in a conciliatory way. “Sorry, I guess you’re right. You’ve been good about letting me pay for stuff so I shouldn’t dump on you. My bad. But I’m talking to your dads when we get to America.”

“Good luck with that,” CJ said, chuckling. His bad mood immediately dissipated when he heard the apology. “If you think I’m pig-headed, just wait until you try and argue with either one of them.”

Owen seemed to calm down after letting off steam and by the time they posed for pictures in front of the Archibald fountain, he was cracking jokes about the penis size of the classical bronze sculptures. They agreed whoever the artist used as a model for Apollo had a rocking body, but his equipment was disappointingly small.

In the Nagoya Gardens section of the park, the two young men paused for a while to watch a chess game in progress. The giant checkered board was embedded in the ground; players walked on and around it, moving pieces between two and three feet high each.

Near the southern tip of the park, they stopped at the ANZAC Memorial, built to commemorate the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps participation in World War I. Ducking into the pink granite structure, they explored the small museum inside and spent time scrutinizing the intricate thirty-foot-long bronze friezes above the eastern and western entrances to the building.

“Are you hungry?” Owen asked as they exited the park.

“Starting to get there,” CJ replied, taking a glance at his Fitbit to check the time. “What do you have in mind?”

“Let’s walk down Oxford. There’s a great little Indian restaurant I like on a side street. Good food, cheap, and the best gulab jamun I’ve ever eaten.”

“What’s that? I don’t think I’ve ever tried it.”

“Oh, you’re in for a treat! They’re small fritters made with milk solids. Like, they evaporate the water in the milk and make dough from what’s left over. After they’re fried, they’re covered in a sweet syrup with cardamom and rose water.”

“Damn! Listen to you. Ingredients and instructions. If it wasn’t because I already know you can’t, I’d think you knew how to cook.”

“Screw you! Just because my sister makes fun of me doesn’t mean I don’t know my way around the kitchen. I did live on my own for three years while I was at uni.”

After a leisurely meal, the guys spent the afternoon walking around the area, stopping several times at stores that captured their interest with their window displays. At CJ’s request, they found a jewelry store where he bought a couple of items as presents for his grandmothers. He’d wanted something typically Australian and settled on opal earrings for both and a small arrow-point-shaped pendant for himself made of black stone with opal striations, amongst a couple of other things.

Friday, 1 August 2014

Casa Nostra was a well-established, top-of-the-line Italian restaurant in the CBD. Owen told CJ he’d been to it several times while living in Sydney. He’d met the owners, enjoyed the food and the service during his visits, and picked it as the place for his farewell dinner. It was co-owned by Marco―who’d grown up in Italy with a family whose lives revolved around mealtimes overseen by the grandmother―and by his lover Enyo who’d started as an apprentice chef and was his partner in business and life. They’d made a big deal out of meeting his parents and grandfather when the group arrived and fussed incessantly over his sister who they called la bella signorina.

“Did my big brother behave this past week?” Liz’s question took CJ by surprise; he’d been paying attention and enjoying Owen and his brother Spencer arguing about something, with their parents trying to referee. He wasn’t entirely sure what the girl was talking about.

“What do you mean? Owen was a great tour guide and I had an awesome time. He even put up with me wanting to shop yesterday. I told him I wanted to get some presents for my grandparents. Ended up spending more on myself than on them.”

“That’s the way it should be! What’s the use of shopping if you don’t treat yourself well?” The girl’s tone turned serious and she lowered her voice. “CJ, my brother’s a great guy. He’s sweet, he’s smart, he’s caring… Sometimes he’s a little naïve though. I think he was silly telling you he wanted to be with you when you were here on holiday last time. That wasn’t smart. He rushed to say what he was feeling without thinking it through. Without realizing it was the wrong time to do it.”

Jack, sitting on the other side of CJ, smiled and nodded in obvious agreement with his granddaughter’s assessment of her brother. “Owen’s a good lad, son. He had his heart broken and swore he’d remain single for a long time. And then you came into his life―into our lives―and his disposition and behavior have been brighter since.”

“I don’t think I did anything special. Owen’s a nice guy and I’ve enjoyed spending time with him.”

“They may not realize it, but I can read my grandchildren fairly well. I know his interest in studying in the United States was partly due to wanting to get away from bad memories here in Australia. But I think you changed that. He now has another reason to study abroad, and that’s you. And your parents. He’s seen two men can have a solid loving relationship. Quite different from what he experienced before.”

“I’ll agree with you on that one, Jack. My dads are a great example. And so are Uncles JP and Tom. They’re all good men and I consider myself lucky to be around them all the time.” Returning his attention to Liz, he asked the question that had been on his mind all evening. “Not to change the subject, but changing the subject, how’re you feeling? Did the doctor figure out what’s wrong?”

Liz waved her hand in dismissal before leaning in and conspiratorially whispering to CJ. “Doctors are all wankers. He gave me some ideas of what could be going on but nothing for sure. They’re working on scheduling one of those MRI things for the coming week. We’ll see after that.”

“That serious?”

“Who knows? Anyway, enough about me. I want you to know no matter what happens between you and my brother, you’ve already been a good influence on him. I hope you stay his friend. Owen will bend over backward for the people he cares about, but he needs a little loving in return. Even if it’s just from a good friend. My big brother has a huge heart. Don’t you dare break it.”

“I’d never do that on purpose. I liked your brother when I first met him and I still do. This trip’s been awesome and we’ve gotten along perfectly. We’ll see what happens when we're living next door and end up seeing each other every day. I just hope he doesn’t push for anything I’m not ready for.”

“Ha! Good luck with that. He may be taking it easy for now, but he’ll get pushy sooner or later. Owen has a hungry heart.”