The Billabong - 2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

2.1

Mark watched as both the Sergeant and Corporal left his office.

What an interesting young man is Scott. I know there's more to his story about the encounter with this fellow called Kreek, but I guess he'll get around to telling me in his own good time.

He pulled a photo of three vaguely similar boys toward him, and thought about his two other brothers Ken, and Rex.

Staring at the photo evoked memories of happy times; the smell of new hewn hay, the crowing of roosters at the dawn, riding his favourite mare, wrestling with his brothers, and family dinners.

He was the eldest, Rex a year younger and Ken two years younger. They grew up on a large property near a country town in the Australian state of Victoria. The estate was extremely profitable: they became a part of the landed aristocracy of the region, and were expected to behave appropriately. The brothers all went to Geelong Grammar, a private school for the children of well-off parents.

His two younger brothers idolized him, and he made sure that they were not bullied or harassed during their early school years. As the brothers grew up, they grew closer together until they became inseparable.

It was mandatory in such schools that a period of training as an army cadet be part of the school curriculum. Rather than resenting this intrusion, Mark found that he loved it; he loved the discipline, the activity, the adventure, and the uniform. Quickly he rose in rank to finish his school years as a cadet Captain. He found that not only did he enjoy being in command, he had a natural ability for leadership. He was captain of the school footy - Australian Rules - team, and head of the Debating and Chess clubs. Men naturally followed him, which was a great delight to his parents. He was expected to take over the family business, and his natural leadership qualities were a windfall.

After his schooling finished, he went on to university to study Animal Husbandry and Farm Management.

Because he was good-looking and the heir to the family fortune, young girls, and indeed older women, pursued him. Whilst he dated many, he became focussed on a childhood sweetheart called Helen - Helen Livingston. Her family was part of the landed gentry, and soon they became engaged, delighting both sets of parents and the community in general.

It was perfect; his planned and packaged life had all the colours of success . . . until the incident occurred.

He wasn't prepared for the degree of hostility directed towards him because of what happened. The shock waves rolled through the community; his parents were aghast, his brothers shocked, his fiancé appalled, and his name dishonoured. Within an extremely short time he became a pariah to all that he held dear, the community, his parents, his extended family, his fiancé and his erstwhile friends. He was lucky that the family's influence curbed any police involvement. Only his youngest brother Ken stood by him.

What stunned him most was the realisation that his friendships, both romantic and social, were built on a very fragile basis. It became painfully obvious that his social standing and wealth were the only reasons people gravitated to him; nobody cared about Mark the person, nobody cared about Mark as an ordinary human who was susceptible to ordinary mortal failings. He was shocked, he was stunned, and he was traumatized . . . he was devastated - totally devastated.

It took some time for him to realize he had no future within the family or community; his fiancé Helen told him to get lost. He was a social outcast. His parents disowned him and cut off any income sources that normally would be an entitlement.

He was so crushed he even considered suicide . . . only considered, he was made of strong genes. When the pain of his banishment receded, he had to ponder his future. It really was a no-brainer, - he joined the army. With his scholastic record and university years considered, he was admitted to the Officer Training Course at Duntroon College in Canberra, Australia's capital city. Graduating with honours, he was posted to Larrakeyah barracks on the staff of Colonel Garth Stamins.

Mark pushed the photo back still thinking of the past.

In a strange way, it's all happened for the best. My life would have been empty and boring. Endless society functions, endless meetings, endless money considerations, and an empty marriage; add to that the expectation to breed new family stock. I wonder if the sheer insignificance of their existence has ever crossed the minds of my parents. All they do is take from inherited wealth, then try to leave enough so that their heirs can enjoy a pampered life-style before they, in turn, pass the same inherited wealth onto someone else. It truly is a dead-end existence. Now I'm free to use my abilities to not only further my ambitions but also contribute to the defence of the country I love. I'm useful, I'm important and I'm capable, (pause) CRAP!

I still hurt like shit; I still cry in the dark of the night; I still long for some parental communication, especially from my mother; I miss my brothers and the good times . . . but, on the positive side, I don't miss Helen. She was just a shallow, spoiled brat whose only interest is spending money and climbing the social ladder; the marriage would have been a disaster - for both of us.

Enough, enough, enough . . . back to work Mark.

* * *

2.2

'Oh man, that sucks; ya sound like you’ve got it real bad. I mean, for god's sake Scott, you're the one who usually fends guys off; now the boots on the other foot. Not that I blame you; when I saw him at the fight I reckoned he was spunk, but I didn't have enough time to give him a thorough look-see. From what you say he's a real doll, but you can't lose yer head over him because it’s a dead end. You'll only get hurt worse than you are now.'

'I know, I know Jason, but I can't control my feelings; it's not like I can avoid seeing him . . . I can't, you know I can't. He's with me in the office all day, and . . . and . . . Oh fuck, its driving me insane Jason. What on earth can any person do with unrequited love - with a one-sided love affair?'

Silence, then

'Hey, I need more coffee; do you want a second? (Scott nodded yes) We’re lucky the NCO mess is nearly empty; I'll be back soon. Just hold that thought till I return.'

It didn't take too long to refill their coffees at the hot water urn, then Jason returned to find Scott looking into space.

'Umm, why did you wait two whole days before contacting me Scott? You're my best buddy, and I hate to see you so unhappy. Don't let it get you down mate, the worlds not coming to an end. I know you, you're strong and clear-minded, and you'll get over this shit. Anyway, it may only be an infatuation not ‘till death do us part' love.'

'Maybe, maybe . . . I don't know the difference; do you?'

'Nah, but you can ‘Google' it when you get a spare moment. I'm sure there's a big difference, and it may help to put your feelings into perspective, to understand the difference.'

'Yeah that’s a good point; hell, why didn't I think of that? What little I know of infatuation is that it doesn't last too long. Yeah thanks Jason, I hope I'm just infatuated and these feelings will go away. Man, I hope they do but (sigh) . . . if they don't, I'm back to where I started.'

'C'mon don't go there Scott, it's not healthy. Try and remember there are two fundamental aspects you must consider. ONE, he's probably straight, and . . . and this is important, TWO, there can be no fraternization between officers and enlisted guys - that includes us. You might get lucky on the first, but you can't do anything about the second. If either one of you gets caught, it would be a career destroying matter. The ADF (Australian Defence Force) is very rigid on this policy, probably for good reason.'

'Yeah, I hears ya. (silence) Now, enough about me; what's been happening with you, what've you ben up to?'

'Not a lot, except I visited that Gay Sauna in Riley Street - you know just around from the main Darwin bus depot - and got real lucky. Met a yank who turned out to be a great lover. We sorta clicked, so after we'd got our rocks off several times, we went for a coffee and talked for about two hours. It was great, he was great; I'm meeting him next week to go - of all things - riding. He's a champion rider, of horses as well as arses. But before you ask, I'm only interested in the sex, I'm not gonna get wacky over a guy like you have.'

'Good for you. Now I reckon we'd better get back to work before they send out a search and destroy mission. And thanks Jason, it's been good to talk; when I get back I'll go find what's called infatuation and hope I tick all the right boxes. See ya!'

* * *

2.3

The past few days had been a torment for Scott. He had to live in painful proximity to a person who dominated his everyday existence. Rather than ebbing, the attraction he had for his Captain grew stronger with each glance, with each touch, with each whiff. When he returned from coffee with Jason, he'd looked up the definition of ‘infatuation'. It was inconclusive. The Google definition held that ‘infatuation' was primarily focused on sex. In general terms ‘Infatuation' exists by being completely dominated by unreasoning desire. ‘Love' on the other hand was an intense feeling of deep affection. Now Scott was more confused, because his feelings weren't just focusing on sex. He had to admit that his feelings qualified as more Love than Infatuation.

Shit!

* * *

2.4

'Yes, come in Corporal.'

The sergeant was away when the Captain buzzed and asked for the latest Fitness Reports, so Scott opened the locked files and brought the reports into the Captain's office.

Mark looked up and generously smiled his thanks.

Oh shit, that smile beckons to me again, it seems to light up his eyes; I can feel my heartbeat soaring. The bastard.

'Here are the latest Fitness Reports you wanted sir; they were updated about one month ago.'

'I see; are all corps personnel included? (Scott nodded yes) I'm particularly interested in Platoon and Company heads. With the forthcoming manoeuvres, I want to assure myself that all the leaders are conversant and prepared, so . . . hey, grab a seat Scott, I want to have a chat to you anyway and . . . and, before we begin, how about getting us some coffee, eh.'

He acknowledged the Captain's request and quickly returned with two steaming cups of (yuk) army coffee. Putting down the coffee Scott sat , his eyes hungrily observing his beautiful boss. Just then Mark reached for his mug and looked Scott directly in the eyes. The look lasted for several seconds and, so it seemed to Scott, penetrated right into Scott's soul.

He doesn't know what he's doing to me! . . . or is it what I'm doing to myself. I could sit here all day punishing myself.

Mark spoke and interrupted Scott's thoughts.

'I must admit I'm curious about you Corporal . . . umm, look when it's just the two of us, I'd like to use first names, is that OK? (surprised, but pleased, Scott nodded yes) So Scott, I see before me an extremely good-looking young man, who probably would have a better future as a male model rather than slugging it out as an army brat. Why did you choose the army?

Pause. Scott sipped his coffee before responding.

'Well sir, one of my best subjects at school was computer science and (re-placing his coffee on the desk) after finishing year 12, I immediately applied to do a course in Computing at the local Technical college. I was working part time as a storeman, was really struggling financially when someone mentioned the army . . . and . . . and, well here I am.'

'Hmm, well OK, that’s a very abridged chronicle of your life. What about family; your parents, siblings etc.?' Mark reached for his coffee whilst he waited Scott's answer.

'Umm . . . my mother died when I was 17, my father still works as a storeman and I have two sisters, Grace is 18 and Joan is 16.'

Geeze, I hope he doesn't ask too many background questions. I've got to keep things general and certainly not volunteer information. I can't mention I was thrown out of home when I was 17, lived on the street before being put into foster care for two years. Also, my father blamed me for my mother's death from - he said - a broken heart.

'Sorry to hear about your mum; what about the rest of your family, do you see them often?'

'No sir.'

Wow that's abrupt; he's holding something back. I sense that there's some bad family history, and he's signalling to me not to go any further which I won't do today. I'll have to check his Personnel File again.

'OK, I saw somewhere you've had martial arts training; care to enlarge.'

OK you gorgeous hunk of manpower, thank you, I'm on much safer ground.

'(Enthusiastically)Yes sir. At school I became a wrestler and subsequently decided to improve myself. I found that the Brazilian form of Ju-jitsu to be an extension of wrestling because BJJ’s focus is on grappling and ground fighting. I'm a Purple Belt student and in about one year I'll advance to a Brown belt; the next level is Black belt.'

Geeze, this kid’s impressive. How many kids his age . . . his age? he's only 3 years younger than me - can be so capable?

'Wow, that's impressive. Tell me, were you using martial arts when you were fighting the other day?'

OK here it comes, at some stage he's gonna ask what the fight was about; let's see where he goes.

'No sir, at least not when you intervened; I was more concerned with harming the bastard, rather than executing some fancy moves. I guess I lost my cool.'

'Care to tell me how the fight got started?'

Clever bastard; I know where he's going, I'm not a bloody fool.

'I believe you asked me that before sir and my answers still the same; Corporal Kreek made a nasty remark, I responded, my buddy Jason laughed, then Kreek hit him, and I hit Kreek. Really sir, there was nothing more in it. Kreek's an unpleasant fellow; I've had run-ins with him before. We have history.'

Well he's not going to budge, so I'll leave it for now.

'Yes of course, I remember. (pause, whilst he sipped from his mug) Now then, let's get back to you and your future Scott. Have you ever considered applying for Officer Training?'

'ME! An officer? I don't think I've got the necessary, sir; why do you ask me that.'

'Well, for one thing it's my job to encourage anyone who I believe has potential to make the move. You're an excellent candidate; I sense you've got leadership qualities that the army could put to good use. What do you think?'

Scott drained then rest of his coffee whilst he thought about an answer.

'I'm flattered sir that you think so highly of me. No (pause) , I'm more than flattered, (softly) I'm grateful because nobody has ever really taken an interest in my future; I'm a bit of a loner. As to your suggestion, let me think about it sir; it's a bit sudden like.'

Mark sensed some underlying sadness in Scott and thoughtfully played with his desk photo before asking,

'What about your father, don't you talk to him about your future?'

Now I'm trapped, I'll have to come clean about the relationship with my parent(s). I can tell what happened but not the why.

Scott paused whilst unconsciously staring at the photo on Marks desk.

'Umm sir, (hesitantly) I haven't had any association with my folks since I was about 17. I had to leave home, (pause) spent some time living rough, was taken up by Social Services and then put into Foster care soon after. (hurriedly) Before you ask sir, I haven't done anything illegal, it's just that my parents didn't approve of me. I'd only been in foster care for about 6 months when my mother (pause) . . . died of a heart attack.My father blamed me, saying that she died of a broken heart. (Cautiously) I'm wondering why I'm telling you this sir, I don't usually talk about my growing up . . . it's painful. I've never opened up sir to anyone before, not even to my best buddy Jason.'

Well I'll be damned; his experience is almost the same as mine. It would seem we're both lost souls. I'm starting to really like the lad; it's like I'm the big brother wanting to care and protect the younger brother.

Whilst he was musing, Mark sub-consciously pulled the photo of his brothers closer; Scott was curious.

What's with the photo? He said its him and his brothers. He subconsciously looks at, or touches the photo, maybe reminding him of good times? There must be some history there.

'( Tentatively) Umm sir, I notice you keep touching that photo of you and your brothers; I sense it means something special to you.'

Oh dear, I've been sprung. Well, seeing he's opened up to me I should do the same. Don't see any harm in it and besides, I'm enjoying talking with him.

'Yes (sigh) Scott it does. (pause) Like you I became estranged from my parents and had to make my own way without any parental support. Growing up, my brothers and I were inseparable, but that all changed when I had to leave home. It really saddens me when I think back to all the good times. (sigh) But that’s life isn't it, we never know when it'll all go sour; I choose to remember the good times and try and forget the bad.'

Interesting. I wonder what caused the alienation from his parents. He seems really sad and reluctant to volunteer any further info.

'Gee, I'm sorry to hear that sir - real sorry; I know what it's like to suddenly be cast adrift without any support or parental shelter. You tend to become a loner; you tend to withdraw into yourself and become defensive. I've always found it hard to make new acquaintances, let alone make any real friends. Sometimes my physical attributes have been a curse. People tend to be drawn to me just because of my supposedly good looks, but painfully all they want is to take . . . without giving anything back. Until Jason came along, I'd never had a friend.'

At last he's giving me a peek into the real Scott Garnet. I can't help myself being drawn to this young man; it's too much to hope that we share similar lifestyles. It's not fraternizing to be friends with an enlisted man . . . is it?'

'All too well I understand what you're saying; like you I became a loner. I've been there Scott, believe me I've gone through the same unpleasantness. Whilst I don't have your good looks, my problem has always been money. People see me as rich - well they did before I was estranged - and have used that as a basis of friendship. I soon found out that they were only after my money and never interested in Mark Peters the person. Several times I thought I actually had a friend - only to be disillusioned when their real intentions became known. But that's not completely true; I did have one friend who I cared for very much and I somehow knew he cared for me as a person. Unfortunately, . . . well, that's another story.'

Did I hear him right, did he say, 'who I cared for very much'? Wow, oh shit; dare I hope?

The atmosphere in the room had changed subtly; the issue of rank, of officer and enlisted, had morphed into a dialogue between two lonesome people. Instinct prevailed as the seeds of friendship began to germinate. When they first started talking, there was a huge gulf that separated them, but somehow they had bridged that gap by just seeking friendship. They became connected.

Gone was the issue of rank, it was just two young men who, for some unaccountable reason , were dealing with past sadness; a past sadness they seemed to share. Then Mark looked at Scott and their eyes communicated a silent understanding, a silent message, a silent bond, a silent recognition of a special friendship; but above all was the sensation of intimacy.

I don't really know what just happened, I feel myself strangely drawn to this guy, something deep that surpasses rank; I'm not his superior, he's not just a corporal, I feel the beginnings of a friendship, a very special friendship. We seem to have a common background, and perhaps one day we'll open up to each other properly and perhaps share our grief.

Scott was shaken. Any feelings of lust had been replaced by something mysterious, something that really had no name, just a feeling, a deep feeling that they were together in an intimate dance.

OH wow, I don't understand what happened, just that my hearts beating so loud I'm sure Mark . . . Mark? . . . yes Mark, must hear it. This isn't sexual it's . . . it's . . . oh hell, I don't know, but it feels bloody good.

Then Scott took his courage in his hands and asked,

'( Uncertainly ) Sir, . . . is it possible that we could become friends? I would like that very much. But if it would be a problem, umm . . . because of rank, then I would certainly understand; I would never do anything to cause you trouble. When you're a loner, the opportunities for friendship are rare, so that's why I'm risking your displeasure by . . .'

'Yes Scott, (laughing) I would definitely like to become your friend, I really would. Let's not the rank issue stand in the way of friendship. The army would indeed be churlish if they denied two people the pleasure of friendship. (pause) Here is the way I see how we could work the system. Simply, when we're alone - I mean just the two of us - we can conduct ourselves as friends; in all other circumstances we must obey the army's rules. Does this make sense?'

'Yes sir . . .'

'Umm . . . Scott; please call me Mark when we're together. May as well start now, eh?'

'Yes sir . . . umm, Mark; (laughing) it sounds weird calling you by your first name, but I'm honoured . . . Mark.'