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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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The Wink - 6. Chapter 6

I've had to post this chapter even though there are some errors. The GA editor is doing something to my text that I don't understand. I'm taking the matter up with Cia.

6.1 At School – Monday

‘Well, well, if it ain’t young freckles. Last time I saw you was at my party, Saturday night, after I’d finished screwing the hunk, Karl. O’ you poor little gay thing, I saw the look on yer face seeing our boy all nakid and stiff. Bet you got home and wanked yerself hard. Must admit though, best screw I’ve had in ages. Sorry little man but he just got super hard thinkin’ about me. Ha-ha! O’ course, now I’ve had him, I gotta move on. There’s always a freshie for me to ravish. I’m really good at fuckin’ and I got an obliging pussie, not like the stink-hole you carry around with you. Pity . . . ‘

Monday morning at school was never pleasant. Kids gathered around friends in the cafeteria and griped about school, about exams, about others and just about everything. Margo caught Billy sitting with four other friends and proceeded to confirm her status as a first-class bitch.

(Laughing) Fuck off Margo. I spoke to Karl afterwards and he told me it wasn’t you he’d been thinking about, it were someone else. Ha-ha. You thought he were thinkin’ about you didn’t ya? Straight from the horse’s mouth, he done told me. (Turning to the others) Whatya reckon guys, what do they call it when ya have forced sex with an unwilling partner, eh?

(All as one) Rape! It’d be rape!’

‘What a sick little gathering of mongrels y’are. I can have any man I want. There isn’t a bloke in the world you’d wouldn’t cream hisself just to get into me pants. Rape? In yer dreams boys.’

And stormed off.

‘So, it’s true then, Margo fucked Karl at the party Saturday night? Was she right; did you see the spunk fully nakid and stiff?’

‘Sure did! And it were him that told me he was thinkin’ of someone else, definitely not the bitch Margo. Ha-ha, and I know who he were thinkin’ about . . .and no, I’m not telling’, I gotta respect Karl’s personal stuff. I promised him, I did.’

‘(‘Mary’ , one of Billy’s gay friends) What’s his cock like Freckles? How long, how wide, big head, circumcised or not?’

‘Not tellin’ Mary. He’s me mate and I ain’t gonna give out personal stuff.’

Gawd I’d luv t’tell them ‘bout Karl and me. I felt the moment he cum. All that hot spunk pourin’ into me caused a ‘gusher’ of me own. And the look of ecstasy on his face were a joy to see. Quiet though . . . or mebe he just didn’t want being loud at the surf club. Yeah, that’s it . . .

‘Hey Freckles, whatcha thinking about? Must be good ‘cause yer smiling. Care to share?’

‘Nah, boring. Just thinkin’ about what I’d like t’do to Margo and all her type. She’s arrogant, stuck-up, nasty, harmful and a thorough bitchy-witch. Needs a massive cock up her bum!’

We didn’t make any time to meet again. OK, but I’m not gonna fret about it. I’ll talk t’him sometime to-day. I reckon he needs sex as much as me. But where? Both our parents work and don’t get home till six to six-thirty, so we have at least two good hours to . . . Yeah, I’ll put it to Karl when we talk. Jeesssus, I’m getting’ hard just . . .

‘‘Fuck, Freckles (Louder) FRECKLES! Where are ya? You’re almost drooling. Whatya thinking about?’

(Needling) Not you ‘Mary’ definitely not you. Just thinkin’ about suckin’ that big circumcised cock of Karl’s. How I’d luv to . . .’

‘(laughing) so you saw he’s circumcised, eh? What’s his arse like?

‘Piss off! Yer gonna be late fer class.’

Did I go too far offering meself? Mebe he’s turned off by someone throwing themselves at his feet? But that’s the way it is. I’m a good bottom ‘cause I likes it. Him bein’ a top takes any pressure off our having sex. And I will! If’n he wants sex, I’ll be there; I got no problem with that. I just hope he feels the same way. What about next? What if he wants up a level? I dunno, I simply dunno. I don’t wanna tie meself down to a steady when I’m only seventeen. Ahh shit! Just live fer the day, Billy-boy. Fuck, I’m gonna be late!

<<<>>>

Karl spied Billy lunching with Rhonda and some of her friends. Without waiting for an invitation, he ambled over to their table and sat down. The boys shared a conspiratorial glance which seemingly went unnoticed by the others.

‘Well stud, have you recovered from your rape by the Margo monster? Before you say anything, I’m bloody jealous. I can’t believe you allowed that freak to abuse you when you coulda had anyone of us clean girls. Whaddaya say girls?’

A chorus of ‘bloody right’ greeted Rhonda’s question.

‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss Saturday night because it wasn’t one of my better nights, well not as far as Margo I mean. Whilst I should thank you for coming to me rescue, I’m quite able to look after meself. You needn’t’ve worried, but anyway thanks, Rhonda. Now that’s been said let’s move on.’

Just the mere presence of Karl made Billy glow. Whilst joining in the conversation, every so often he’d glance at Karl only to find him looking back. An unmistakable aura of a private bond encompassed them; their attitude to one another reflected something deeper than mere friendship. Then someone asked Billy,

‘What about you, freckles, how did you feel waking up Sunday?’

‘Well, the morning weren’t good but then I had a great afternoon (looking at Karl) which more than offset the lousy morning.’

‘So, what happened in the afternoon?’

‘Ain’t telling, so drop it.’

‘Aww . . . come on, tell us; you’re amongst friends.’

‘Nope, piss off.’

‘What about you Karl, I bet you didn’t wake up singing ‘Oh what a beautiful morning . . .’

‘That’s about it Rhonda, miserable morning, great (looking at Billy) afternoon. I spent the morning washing myself thoroughly. I just couldn’t get the stink of Margo of’n me. Hey, there I go breakin’ me own rule. Forget I mentioned Margo’s name.’

While Karl talked, Rhonda happened to glance at Billy, who sat watching Karl with an almost rapturous look on his face. Some instinct jolted Rhonda and then, as unrelated pieces of a crossword puzzle came together, a picture started to take shape.

Karl looking at Billy . . . Billy adoring Karl . . . both claim something good Sunday afternoon . . . Billy and Karl by the pool . . . Karl with an erection . . . not Margo . . . maybe not me? . . . Billy’s gay . . . oh my god! . . . could it be? . . . could it be . . . that . . . Karl’s . . . that Karl’s gay? . . . NO! No, it can’t be . . . impossible . . . impossible . . . and yet?

With her feminine instinct roaring, Rhonda started to fit a gay Karl into the picture, and surprisingly . . . it fit!

OH Wow! What a turnup. Yes, it makes sense . . . Well, it’s the only scenario that does make sense. Before I do or say anything, I’ll just observe. I can’t confront Karl with circumstantial evidence. God, if it’s true, what a waste! That beautiful boy’s a poofter! I wonder if Jason knows. That might also explain why he was so rude to Karl last Sunday week . . . but how would Jason know? After all he’d just met Karl that day. Thinking back, Karl has never made any sexual advances to me, nor has he flirted. I thought he was just being a gentleman but now . . .?

She began to observe both Billy and Karl on the sly. When he wasn’t addressing others in the group, Billy’s gaze always returned to Karl. By itself, this wasn’t any indication because Billy was gay, and it seemed natural that he’d gravitate to someone as spunky as Karl. Then Rhonda noticed Karl’s eyes caressing Billy furtively. Add to that Karl’s complexion appeared flushed whenever he glanced at Billy. Something was definitely going on!

Rhonda experienced a wave of sadness. Karl’s attraction to Billy depressed her and she sighed to cover her despondency.

I really liked him . . . yes, I did. NO, I do, I do! On the other hand, he hasn’t rejected me outright as a person; he just doesn’t dig females. (sigh) That’s some consolation isn’t it? (she turned to answer a question from a friend, then returned to her musing) So what happens now? Friendship? . . . yes, a close friendship with both of them. After all, when the news gets out, they’ll need friends.

The end of lunch bell sounded, and people began to collect personal stuff and prepare food leftovers for the garbage bin. Thinking they were unnoticed, Karl leaned over and whispered to Billy,

‘Bloody hell, I’m so randy. Every time I look at yer beautiful freckled face I want to fuck. I need to be inside you again boyo. I want to fuck yer eyes out. Me balls are hurtin’ real bad. I just gotta have you real soon otherwise I’ll explode. Savvy?’

‘Me too, Oh god, me too! Where, where, where? (noticing Rhonda watching) Hey, we need to be careful though, yer mates lookin’ at us. I fell asleep in yer arms last night, or so I imagined. I don’t wanna press ya, but have you thought about commin’ out? If’n we could be open we wouldn’t need to hide for each other. Tell me to piss off if I’m outta line.’

‘C’mon walk with me to class. Yeah, yer right about me comin’ out. I don’t have no problem at school, but . . . my folks . . . well, you know, I don’t wanna hurt them. (sigh) That’s crap, I’m bein’ a coward, a bloody coward!’

‘Hey, don’t beat yerself up. I knows what it’s like. When me dad found out, I were terrified and nearly shit meself. But, in the end, it were all good. No more lies, no more fear, no more ‘fraid to say sumthin’, no more ‘fraid that that someone will tell. It’s mostly good.’

‘(Sigh) I hear ya! I know I gotta, but don’t know how to go about it.’

‘Yeah, I reckon I understand. Anyway, I’m on yer side Karl; just remember I’m here for ya.’

<<<>>>

As it happened, Rhonda and Karl shared the same first period after lunch. She hardly heard anything the teacher said, because she could only think about Karl and Billy – well Karl mostly. By lesson’s end she’d made up her mind. As Karl gathered his books together, she tapped him on the shoulder to gain attention.

‘Hey Karl, can we meet for coffee after school? There’s things I gotta talk to you about. OK?’

‘Well I was going to pick up Billy and go to his place. We planned to do our homework together. Alright if Billy comes along?’

(Hesitating before answering) I suppose . . . yeah, that’s OK. I got my car so I’ll drive to the shop. Do you want a lift?’

‘Nah, thanks all the same but we’ll get there OK.’

Perhaps with Billy being there Karl will be more inclined to admit he’s gay. After all, if he’s having an affair with freckles, he’s not gonna lie in front of the boy. Well, I don’t think so. Yeah, it might work out for the best.

6.2 Flashback #2

‘Pastor, your Two-Thirty appointment’s outside. Remember they called yesterday but wouldn’t give me anything more than it’s a financial matter. I don’t like . . .’

‘It’s alright Amanda, I’ll see them now. I’m intrigued at the mention of ‘financial’.’. I hope they aren’t associated with our Mr ‘Fred’. You remember, don’t you?’

‘Mmmm, how could I forget. Anyway, they’re much better looking, especially the younger one. (holding the door open) Gentlemen, the Pastor will see you now.‘

Getting up to welcome his visitors, the Pastor appraised his guests. The older man wore an expensive hand-tailored suit with white shirt and blue tie. He looked athletic and fit. His whole demeanour radiated power and self-confidence. Although about mid-forties (the pastor guessed), he deported himself like a younger man. But something about the eyes. Hard, piercing, and black, they challenged. Not a man to confront. His companion on the other hand appeared uncomfortable, constantly darting his eyes around defensively. Something gelled in the Pastors mind; the face looked familiar.

‘Now sit you down and tell me what this is all about. Oh, my apologies, would you like something to drink? Tea, Coffee, Milk?’

‘Thank you, Pastor, but no, I like to come straight to the point.’

Anderson nodded for him to continue.

‘My name is Giles Riddington and my associate here is Gary Sommers. Umm, by any chance do you remember Gary, Pastor?’ (Anderson shook his head)

‘No matter, we’ll get to that soon enough.’

Soon enough? What’s he talking about? Sounds ominous.

‘I’m following up on a visit by our Mr Fred Piggins from the Holyrood Foundation.’

Suddenly alarm bells started to ring and the Pastor tensed himself.

‘(Measured tone) Yes, I remember Mr Piggins visiting, and I also remember saying we could not do business with your foundation. I made it quite clear that I needed more details than your fellow provided. Are you now prepared to supply more information? Is that the reason for your visit?’

That face. I’m sure I’ve seen that face before.

‘(Sternly) Partly. Our benefactor is quite annoyed at your refusal. He considers his proposal to be generous and on terms which will benefit both parties. That you turned him down flat is something of an insult. He wishes . . .’

‘(Getting annoyed) Now look here. I’ll repeat what I said to Mr Piggins. I’m not about to recommend to our finance committee we accept any loan without adequate supporting documentation. (Sounding reasonable) Now, if your benefactor is indeed a money chap, he’d know that full disclosure in any transaction is prudent business procedure.’

‘(Coolly) So you still refuse his generous offer?’

‘Yes, if you want a straight answer, then yes! Now let’s not waste any more of each other’s time. Unless you provide more information, my answer will always be NO.’

Silence followed which became oppressive as the silence lengthened. The Pastor, not succumbing to intimidation, locked eyes with the older man, who then turned to his partner and,

‘Gary, perhaps you’d like to jog the Pastors memory of the events on the night of December 12, 1994. Please Gary.’

Something stirred in Peeter Anderson’s sub-conscious. Bad memories collided with other bad memories, and the worse of them struggled for disclosure.

‘(Hostile yet sad) You raped me Anderson, you and your other cretins raped me. I was underaged at a drunken party for so called seminary men. Yes, you paid for me, call me a whore, and you were first. After you’d finished you stood back and watched your cronies have me, again and again and again. It’s taken me years to get your names thanks to the help of Giles and the Holyrood Foundation. But now I know, I know, and I want revenge. It’s time for you to pay for what you did to a little kid . . . (Sneering) Pastor!’

‘(Giles) What’s wrong Pastor, you don’t look well?’

Fear is the body’s response to danger or a perceived threat. Reaction to fear activates the ‘Flight’ or ‘Fight’ response. But even worse, it can create paralysis of the body and mind. A numbness that can immobilise even breathing. Into this is state, Pastor Peeter Anderson succumbed. He began to sweat, to tremble and lost the power of speech. Yet his mind still functioned.

Oh no, no, no . . . It just happened . . . so long ago, so long ago . . . I did it . . . I didn’t mean . . . memories, memories, please . . . I remember . . . no, I don’t want to remember . . . forget . . . we were young and stu . . . yes, drunk . . . drunk and needy . . . I hated . . . attraction . . . I hated . . . I hated myself . . . I hated myself and the boy . . . his beauty . . . we were all sex starved . . . oh so beautiful, his smooth tanned shin. Like satin . . . I’m so, so sorry . . .

‘(Alarmed) Pastor, Pastor are you . . .?’

Suddenly Peeter the Pastor gagged and threw up. Lunch and breakfast remains jetted out over his desk pad, before he hurriedly vomited the rest into a wastepaper basket. It took several minutes before his stomach drained.

All through this, he heard soft laughter, soft deriding laughter. Now exhausted he faced his accuser.

‘(shattered) I suppose a simple ‘sorry’ will not suffice. Or if I say there were extenuating circumstances, or even drunk . . . what do you want from me?’

‘(Sneering) Do you want to clean your mess before we proceed?’

‘(Mild) NO! I want to know what you want and then you’ll leave my office. But before anything else (turning to Gary) I’m so sorry Gary. So very, very sorry. I know that can’t absolve my crime, but I just want to say it.’

‘Part of the Holyrood Foundation’s function is to find justice for victims such as Gary. Money Pastor, money. Let’s be blunt. You’ll accept our loan and manage the repayments without a whimper. We’ll fund Gary from these. If you have trouble from any committee member, we’ll ensure compliance. Hard compliance. Of course, if you renege then the world will know about your crime. That clear?’

‘(Softly) Ye . . . (Whispering) Yes . . .Yes.’

‘Alright. I’ll leave the application papers on your desk here. Well, (laughing) the part that’s not covered in vomit. Complete them today and mail them today. (Menacing) If there’s any problem with your committee members let us know and we’ll deal with it. That’s a threat Pastor! Be sure of it! Gary, anything you’d like to add?’

‘How could you? How could you first rape a child and then stand back and watch others fuck (the Pastor flinched at the offensive word) me? Do you know what my life’s been like, do you? I’ve become an addict to booze and drugs. Kicked out of home at sixteen, lived on the streets, sold my body for sustenance, contracted AIDS and tried to kill myself. All that because of you! You, Pastor! You! And you have the gall to call yourself a man of god. You disgust me!’

Giles laid some papers on the desk, shut his briefcase, nodded to Gary, and stood up.

‘Shall I tell your Secretary you’ve had an accident Pastor? The office reeks of vomit and I guess she’ll have to clean it up. You have a good day, Anderson. C’mon Gary.’

And they left. Straightway Amanda came bustling in and stood horrified at the mess on the desk. Silently she cleaned up, all the time wordlessly questioning the Pastor. The smell lingered.

6.3 Flashback #3

Peeter Anderson sat immobile at his desk staring fixedly at the papers left by the man called Riddington. Any discomfort he felt with the smell of his vomit paled to nothing when his memory returned to that awful night. If only he could forget . . .

<<<>>>

Sexual Orientation. At all times confusing, never absolute, and poorly understood. Imagine an Iceberg; ten percent above the water and the rest underneath out of sight. Such is Homosexuality. The only certainty is it is far more prevalent than statistics can ascertain.

Peeter Anderson came from a Baptist family, deeply religious. His father, as head of the house and omnipotent, drilled Christian teachings into his children - ad nauseum. Peeter grew up with a strict set of rules to live by. The rules were absolute. Any deviation met with severe punishment; severe corporal punishment.

Arriving at Puberty, Peeter decided on a career as a Pastor. He also discovered his sexual orientation was different to the norm laid down by his father and the church. He liked boys – a lot. Young boys preferably.

This revelation terrified him. Fear of exposure dominated his life. Exposure, as a deviant, was unthinkable. Never, No, never. Casting around for help he decided religion would save him. So, from his early teens he doused himself in the practice of religion – the Baptist version. His dad’s Baptist version. But you can’t change the way you are and, from time to time, lascivious thoughts would surface, inducing a panic attack. He medicated with prescribed drugs, no alcohol as his religion banned the partaking thereof. Not that anyone practiced such.

As his need for sexual relief grew, so did his religious fervour. In a way he became successful in quashing desires. Outwardly he appeared as a devout young man without blemish. His path set, he entered a Melbourne Divinity College, graduating with full honours. Marriage being the next step, he carefully looked around and decided on Miss Gloria Roberts who attended the same Church. Settling into glorious domestic life – Baptist style – the union bred two offspring. Not long after, he became Pastor of the Baptist church in Mount Eliza Victoria.

However, on the night of December 12, 1994 he blundered, badly. Throughout his College years he befriended young men who shared his covert sex orientation. They were gay and like him immersed themselves in religion to cover their so-called perversion. The previous Friday, December 9, 1994, all had graduated with honours from College. So, on the night of Monday, December 12, 1994, they partied. Hiring a large suite in a posh Melbourne City hotel, they hit the booze. The men started out visiting several known gay bars, but fear of recognition drove them back to the hotel room. As the alcohol intake grew, they became less inhibited. Long suppressed desires surfaced and finding no impediment, morphed into cravings. Down came the walls, down went the drawbridge, and they stepped into a new world of absolute physical and emotional vulnerability.

Peeter’s need for sex became unbearable. Just once, just once in his young life he desperately craved to fuck a young man. As the night dragged on, his need demanded physical action.

‘(Turning to a friend) Bob, I need sex, I need to fuck someone. (Uncertainly) What would you say to my getting us a young kid for the night? For me, I’ll never have another chance; I know I’m pissed and that’s given me courage. If you and the guys find that offensive, I’ll get another room somewhere. I . . . I’m . . . really gonna do it. I’m through lusting after something I can never have. Whatya think?’

One by one the young men owned up to sharing the same need.

Peeter ordered his car be brought around to the Hotel front. Being over the limit he took a big chance driving, but he knew the booze bus seldom operated around the CBD. His only risk would be an accident. Thus, he drove off very carefully.

At the end of a particular street, kids lounged against a high cement wall, waiting for clients. The cops knew but did nothing. Driving along slowly, Peeter carefully surveyed the pickings. He knew what he wanted but had no luck until just near the end he spied a young man, maybe sixteen, who took his fancy. About 170 cm. he wore a pair of tight blue jeans and white tee-shirt. Dark brown hair framed a good-looking face. But when he turned side-on Peeter gasped at his almost perfect arse. Bingo! He called the kid over.

Gary had been standing for about thirty minutes and, in that time, refused several offers. Mostly old men, gungy old men, he knew he could do better. Suddenly a sports car drew up and a youngish man called him over. After several minutes talking, he gladly accepted the job. It sounded too good to be true. $500 wow! Not being stupid he insisted the money up front in cash. Agreed.

And then onto the hotel and the ensuing disaster.

As the men waited the mood turned ugly. So long denied relief, the churchies had little or no self-restraint. Then, as Gary teasingly stripped following a routine he’d perfected, any vestige of restraint vanished. Ugly mindless lust prevailed.

A sexually inflamed Peeter led Gary into the main bedroom and the rape began. Stunned at the sudden change in mood, Gary had no defence against the more powerful adult. Peeter abandoned all semblance of subtlety as he brutally slammed into the boy. Gary cried out in shock and pain and begged Peeter to stop but his pitiful entreaties fell on deaf ears.

One by one the others entered the room, becoming further aroused at the spectacle of Peeter thrusting into the lad. They also ignored Gary’s cries to stop. One then by one they had their way with the boy.

By the time they’d all finished Gary was a sobbing wreck.

Satiated and sobering, they knew a crime had been committed. They each had ignored Gary’s cries of ‘Stop’! and ‘Please stop!’; that made it a crime, a crime of rape! Now shame and fear became dominating emotions. Not only the fear of being ‘outed’ but the overwhelming fear of a rape charge consumed them. By a silent, unanimous agreement they would henceforth avoid each other. To bury the shame, they would each have to go separate ways.

And so, each called a taxi and disappeared, hopefully leaving the disgrace and dishonour behind. No less disgusted with himself, Peeter stayed to make sure the kid was OK. He walked back into the crime scene and found the lad weeping. He looked so young, vulnerable, and wretched, Peeter fleetingly considered killing himself.

But no, he wouldn’t take the cowards way out and opted to leave. He left an additional one hundred dollars on the bedside table with just a simple ‘SORRY’ note. Then left.

. There being no newspaper article about the attack, he considered they were safe. Over time, the deed faded from memory. He never saw the others again.

6.4 Three friends have coffee

Being the first to arrive, Rhonda waited somewhat apprehensively for the boys to turn up. She had time to think about strategy; what would be the best way to pose the question to someone as proud as Karl?

Maybe I’m wrong in forcing the issue. Maybe I’ll lose his friendship – maybe lose both of themboth. Maybe it’s none of my business. Maybe, maybe, maybe? Isn’t it better to know the truth, rather than pretending to accept lies? Then again what do I know about anyone being gay? How many times have I sat in church and listened to my dad rant against gay people and their filthy activities? All I know is what he’s preached, that Homosexuality is a grave sin. I accepted that until I met Billy. No-one could say that Billy’s evil, no-one! He’s one of the nicest boys I’ve ever met and wouldn’t consciously hurt anyone – not like others I could mention. Some so-called ‘straight’ blokes are just mongrels. Shit I’m nervous . . . maybe I’ll shut up and not say anything. Maybe! I really don’t want to hurt . . .

‘Hey Rhonda, what’s up? You look a bit pensive, like yer got the cares of the world on yer shoulders. What gives?’

Karl and Billy slid into the cubicle opposite Rhonda, all perky and friendly. She noticed they sat close together.

Well here goes – here goes nothing.

‘(Trying to be relaxed) Hi boys, how did you get here without a car?’

‘One of Dad’s salesmen passed by on a test drive and gave us a lift. Now you want to talk to Karl, so do you need me to piss off?’

‘No Billy . . . look maybe it’s better you stay ‘cause after all you’re involved.’

Both Karl and Billy exchanged uneasy glances. Karl sported a slight frown whilst Billy cocked his head to the side with a questioning look.

‘(Calmly) What are we involved - your word - with?’

Rhonda allowed an uneasy silence to grow.

Well, I’ve come this far so I might as well go ahead and be damned.

‘(Cautiously) I’m relying on my female intuition here. I know you can laugh at me, but It’s seldom let me down. In what I’m about to ask, I have no motive except to be a friend – to both of you.’

Oh, shit she’s gonna ask Karl if he’s gay! I reckon that’s why she wants me here. Oh fuck! Karl’s’ gonna freak out. He’s not prepared, and I reckon he suspects nothing. It’s gonna be a shock. I gotta help somehow.

‘(Evenly) Rhonda, I think I know what you’re gonna ask and you’d better be careful. Please think before you say anything.’

‘(Ignoring Billy and looking earnestly at Karl) When I first met you, Karl I was smitten. A good-lookin’ boy like you would flutter any girl’s heart. Getting to know you, I sensed a serious and responsible young man who I proudly introduced to my family. Leaving aside my stupid brother, my family likes you Karl. I know that and I think you know that. Since . . .’

‘(Getting agitated) Rhonda what the fuck are you trying to say? I don’t need a history lesson, just say what you want to say without all the piffle!’

‘Rhonda . . .’

‘It’s OK Billy, I know what I’m doing?’

‘Do you?’

‘(Frustrated) Will you two just shut it and tell me what’s going on, please.’

‘(Deep breath, quickly) OK . . . Karl, I believe you’re gay!’

There followed complete silence. Rhonda watched as Billy gently placed his hand on Karl’s arm as support. Karl’s face drained and took on a ghostly appearance. He appeared shocked.

‘(Pressing on quickly) Before you say anything Karl, I couldn’t help notice the ambience between you and Billy. You’re both unmistakably attracted to each other, and . . . and . . . I think it’s wonderful. I also hark back to Saturday night and . . . your . . . erection. I now suspect you’d been thinking of Billy, not me and certainly not Margo. I’m right aren’t I?’

‘(Billy leaned towards Karl and squeezed his arm) Mate, Rhonda’s a close friend and I’m sure she’s only got your welfare at heart. She’s not going to ‘out’ you (looking at Rhonda who nodded positively) at school or anywhere . . .’

‘(Rhonda hastened to agree) Oh shit Billy’s right Karl, I would never do anything bad to you. It’ll just stay here between us three. I promise! Look at me Karl (taking his hand) It’s all right . . .’

Since Rhonda’s question Karl’s emotions were in turmoil. Being unprepared, he just sat and stared robot-like into space. Then the initial shock gave way to fear. His choices were simple; either admit or deny. Then he experienced a wave of emotional exhaustion; he needed time to process his predicament and not compelled to make a choice in haste. Now he became angry.

‘(Irate) It’s not alright. No, it’s not alright. It’s so easy for you two to discuss my plight as if it were a mere nothing. Well it ain’t a mere nothing to me. I’m not prepared to be outted, not yet, not yet and no-one is gonna force me to expose myself. No-one!’

Rhonda picked up on the subtle admission and decided to go softly.

‘I agree. I’m sure Billy also agrees (Billy nodded in confirmation). Look upon it this way; you’ve got two very close friends who have your back and will support you in the days ahead. I appreciate it’s not gonna e easy . . .’

Oh fuck! Have I just outted myself? I’m so rattled I’m not thinkin’ clearly. Jeessuuss, I need solo time to get me head around this. Maybe it’s a good thing?

Billy squeezed Karl’s arm and turned his head to face him.

‘Boyo, it had to come out sometime. It ain’t a small thing ‘cause I’ve been there. (Addressing Rhonda) You just can’t appreciate the trauma a guy has to go through when he ‘comes out’. (Turning back to Karl) I love you mate, you know I love you and wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt you. It’s a journey all gay guys must face sooner or later. Just remember mate, yer not alone, I’m here for ya, so’s Rhonda (who nodded).

‘Nice speech freckles. You make it simple and upbeat. Trouble is I’m feeling scared stiff. If Rhonda can suss that we’re fucking each other, then the whole world will find out. And what about my parents? Surely, I need to tell them before I tell anyone else. Right now, they don’t suspect anything so when I come clean, it’ll be a shock. I don’t want to be the cause of any pain – they don’t deserve that. I haveta think . . .’

‘OK, OK, I get it. Goes to show yer such a nice person – thinkin’ about yer ‘rents pain afor yer own. (then turning to Rhonda) What do you think Rhonda? Was learning about Karl being gay a problem for you? ‘cept me, you’re the one who has been closest to him lately.’

‘Um, that’s hard Billy. Karl’s such a man’s man that him being homosexual is a bit hard to take. Sure, I was surprised and, yes, disappointed, but that quickly passed. I’d rather have the truth than a lie any day. What I mean is Karl, I’d rather you told me the truth than to try and persevere with some lie. Being truthful, no matter how hard it is, gains more respect than running away from reality. Most people will see it the same way.’

Listen to the lady, Karl. Yes, there’ll be people like Margo who will have a field day with her nasty mouth, but in the end, no-one will take any notice of her. Ya just gotta tuff it out buddy. To me it were such a relief to not have to lie.’

‘(groan) I’ve only got two choices; to admit the truth or deny the truth. I guess it’s simple, so why am I so scared. I’d rather face a huge full forward in a marking contest than face my parents. I gotta admire you Freckles, you got more guts than me. Me dad’s a pussy compared to yours and yet you faced him head-on. I’m not as brave as you, boyo.’

‘Bullshit! Every bloke’s situation is different. I got no claim to big balls. Sometime bein’ stupid can be an advantage.’

‘(Chuckling) It’s bloody amazing isn’t it? You guys would rather face physical danger than handle an emotional situation. Anyway, I hope I can be a bestie to you mate. I’ll always be here to watch your six. I don’t have any suggestions on how to handle yer folks; It’s gotta be up to you and you alone Karl. Sorry. But if you think you’ve got it hard, just think about someone like my brother. Imagine him trying to come out to my father, eh?’

Both Karl and Billy exchanged a glance which went unnoticed by Rhonda. Then Billy chipped in,

‘It don’t matter who it is or what the circumstances are Rhonda, it’s never easy. Makes me pissed off; why should we gays have to endure the pain dished out by ignorant people. I say again, ignorant, uninformed, narrow-minded, intolerant and prejudiced shit holes.’

Sorry about the rape scene. I don't like writing about raper but I needed the incident to happen to develop the story. You'll understand later.
Copyright © 2020 grahamsealby; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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What's Billy age after all. In on chapter it appeared 15, almost 16, but in this chapter I think he says 17. Karl is 18 I believe, so 17 woul be closer but still younger.

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Thank you. Billy's coming on sixteen not seventeen. How that got past the proof reading is a mystery so I owe you a big 'thanks'.

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