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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.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Young, Gay and Scared - 14. Chapter 14

14.1

Ryan’s life settled into a comfortable routine. For several months now, he’d worked at the chemist and enjoyed his duties as well as the staff. Three nights a week he went to night school and grew confident he’d pass the final Uni entrance exam. Of course, Tony’s help allowed him to navigate through difficult subjects and difficult areas.

Following Gus’s advice, he researched getting a tattoo but found tattoo parlours scarce and expensive. Improvising, he managed to draw a rough heart outline on his right wrist using indelible ink. This was no mean feat for a right-hander. Drawing an arrow took time and colouring the shape red took more time. Nevertheless, he managed to implant a reasonable facsimile of the ‘signal’ on his right wrist. Now, to sit back and . . .”

As the weeks went by his feelings for Tony changed, morphing into more craving than just physical desire. At night his dreams focused on a naked Tony and lavish sexual encounters. His imaginations centred around the man’s aroma, hairy chest, mature muscles, and attractive facial features. Fantasies about penetration always resulted in soiled bed sheets. Then, on awakening, he realized such encounters were just pipedreams and dismissed such thoughts as fanciful imaginings. Tony was a heterosexual and married. Full Stop!

Unbeknown to Ryan, Tony found himself drawn to the youngster. His naivety and enthusiasm impressed Tony so much he eagerly looked forward to each Saturday. They started jogging together and so found a new closeness in their relationship. To onlookers, they appeared as close brothers who just happened to be the two most attractive males in the surf club. Of course, this invoked some jealousy from other club members, and smutty stories abounded.

Then one Saturday morning Ryan received a phone call from an excited Tony asking if he could come around to Ryan’s house because he had something he needed to show him. Intrigued, Ryan anxiously awaited Tony’s visit. On arriving, and after introductions to Bill, Clare and Merle, Tony explained,

“I was looking through the job vacancies in the Sydney Morning Herald today - a newspaper covering the State of New South Wales - and found this (pushing a page in front of him which had been circled at a particular spot), it’s a job at the University’s Vet school.”

“(Impetuously) a job! At the Vet school! What sort of job? Can I see it?”

“Settle down Ryan. How about you read it out for us Tony, my mother-in-law doesn’t see too well.”

“Sure Mr Seaton . . .”

“Bill, please.”

“Sure, thank you, Bill. It says

‘A vacancy exists in the Sydney University Veterinary College for a laboratory assistant whose duties would include mixing up medicines; developing x-ray plates; delivering messages and generally assisting the chemist in charge. We are looking for a young man, preferably in his late teens who is keen and bright. The hours are 9 a.m. till 4.30 p.m. The salary will be subject to negotiation but will be bound by minimum union award conditions. Applicants should apply, in writing to (a name and address). We are anxious to have the successful applicant start as soon as possible, so early applications stating scholastic record and references will be favourably considered.’

Ryan couldn’t believe it. His heart started pounding and his throat went dry. Bill Seaton was the first to speak.

“That sounds like you son, would you like to have a go?”

“(Excitedly) Your kidding! I love it. Wow! A job in the Vet school. Just think how much I’ll learn about animals and such before studying proper. It’s fantastic. Thanks, Tony, yer a great mate, I can’t wait to start.”

“Woo there, you have to send an application first, then if they like what you say, an interview will follow. I suggest we forego our regular meeting to-day and draft your reply. Ok?”

“Yes, yes, and yes! Umm, how about you draft something to make a start. I . . . I wouldn’t know where to start. Please, Tony!”

So Tony made a start and before long, with input from parents and grandmother, an impressive application emerged. Luckily, his grandmother had some spare stamps, so with great delight and fretful anticipation, they posted the letter that afternoon. With the weekend giving the Post Office extra time, the application was sure to be received by Monday. All Ryan (and everyone else) had to do was wait.

Wait! What about Gus? He ought to tell Gus the good news but decided against it because there really wasn’t anything to tell. Besides, he’d see Gus next Saturday morning when he was sure to have some news – hopefully, good news. Instead, he looked forward to Sunday morning when Tony and he had scheduled a jog. The physical exercise softened the anxiety of waiting. It was during that jog when Tony threw a ‘yorkka’[1] at him. Ryan impatiently believed he would get a response on Monday, but Tony had to point out the Vet School wouldn’t get his letter until Monday. That simply meant he shouldn’t expect a reply, if he was to get a reply, until Tuesday or Wednesday.

Ahh, the impatience of youth. Ryan couldn’t hide his disappointment and Tony, himself anxious, felt sorry for the boy.

So Ryan waited and waited. Tuesday passed into Wednesday and no letter. He became sick at heart because logic dictated a successful response would come either Tuesday or Wednesday and an unsuccessful advice would come later in the week. As Thursday dawned, he’d convinced himself his application would be rejected.

And then the letter came.

He went straight from work to night school and so didn’t get home until near 10 p.m. An anxious family gathered around the kitchen table upon which the letter stood propped up against a vase. No-one dared touch it, but they gathered in support of Ryan. They all expected bad news. Slowly Ryan opened the envelope and extracted a letter clearly showing the embossed letterhead of the vet school. He started to read, but only got to read the first two lines, before he burst into tears. The family gathered around endeavouring to comfort him until Ryan’s voice could be heard saying,

Yes, Yes, Yes, yes they want to interview me!”

Laughing and hugging, they let Ryan read the letter in full out loud. It seemed they wanted Ryan to come to an interview next Monday at 10 p.m. He had to confirm this by calling a number listed in the letter. His Nanna pointed out this was just an interview it didn’t mean he’d got the job. Still, Ryan insisted he’d made it to the interview stage so at least he had one foot in the door. Discussions then centred around what to wear and consulting timetables of Public Transport to get to the university. Then his father dropped a bombshell,

“I‘ll come to the interview because I reckon they’ll be more impressed if a parent attends with you. We’ll take the car because it’s an easy drive to the University; it’s just along Parramatta road.”

Ryan looked at his father and tears began to form. That his dad would put himself out like this was unexpected and treasured. He just hugged and thanked him profusely. Even Merle had a respectful look in her eyes.

That night he didn’t get much sleep, he just tossed and turned with anticipation. Monday seemed a long way away. Should he tell Gus the good news? What good news? After all it was just an interview, not a job offer. Better to tell Gus when – or if – he’d been successful. No, he’d surely know after Monday, and certainly by the following weekend, if the job was his. Of course, he’d see Tony on Saturday and bring him up to date.

That settled that.

So on the Monday, father and son sat outside the nominated office, taking in the atmosphere and smells of the Veterinary College. They’d arrived fifteen minutes early both suffering from anxiety.

Just after 10 a.m, the waiting ended when a young woman ushered them into the presence of the Chief Chemist.

Forty-five minutes later, Ryan had a new job. He agreed to start the following Monday at 9 a.m. as assistant to the Chief Chemist Mr Ray Higgins. What impressed this worthy most was that his father accompanied the lad to the interview.

All the way home, father and son sang, shouted, yelled at other cars, and laughed, and laughed, and, . . . shed some tears.

A new phase of Ryan’s life had begun.

<><><><>

14.2

Ryan found it difficult giving notice to Mr Harrington at the chemist. He’d always be grateful for giving him his first job and he felt like he was doing something wrong. But when he explained, the boss congratulated him and wished him well. His fellow workers bought a big squishy cream cake on the Friday as a going away present, so with well-wishes following him, he looked forward to the new job.

Bubbling with his good news Ryan raced over to Gus’s caravan mid-morning on the Saturday before he started his new job. Surprisingly, Gus wasn’t home, but Ryan reasoned he might be shopping or stayed over elsewhere. After all, they weren’t exclusive. Gus had a healthy sex drive, so it didn’t surprise Ryan he had dalliances elsewhere. The good news could wait.

He and Tony spent the afternoon discussing Ryan’s new job. Or rather Ryan bubbled whilst Tony listened.

“Geeze, I can’t wait Tony. The Vet school’s real big and I could hear the animals out the back. Seems they have a supply of medicines kept in stock and one of me tasks is to keep the jars full.”

“What sort of medicines do you have to make up?”

“Would you believe zinc creme[2], cough medicine and others I can’t remember names for. Nothing involving heavy drugs or other harmful stuff. But best of all, I have to develop x-rays and make sure they’re ready for inspection. I bet they’ll be other stuff to do when I get more experienced.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. Why don’t you keep a notebook and write down anything you think will help you later on. Sort of a diary I guess.”

“Hey, a terrific idea. (sombrely) I can’t thank you enough Tony. If you hadn’t seen the job advert I wouldn’t be as happy as I am now. I’ll try and make up to you somehow.”

“Don’t fret it. Just seeing you happy is good enough for me. I gather yer dad being with you helped heaps.”

“Yeah, Mr Higgins was impressed. He said few parents would take the time to accompany a child to something as mundane as an interview. Also, me dad and he got on well. Apparently, Mr Higgin’s son is learning a plumbing trade.”

“Ok, just you keep me posted boyo. I want to know everything. I feel like it’s my job too. Now, let’s start with the books where we left off . . .”

“Awe . . .”

“(Laughing) Yes, I agree. The surf’s looking good, so how about we be truants for today. I can’t wait to get out there. Coming?”

For two hours they surfed and competed to see who could ride a wave longer. Being more experienced Tony always won but Ryan was fast catching up. Afterwards, they stretched out in the lifeguard enclosure and soaked up some sun. As he devoured Tony’s body Ryan couldn’t wait to get home, so he could relieve some pressure on his balls.

It was so frustrating. To have this beautiful sexy man so close and untouchable was painful. He had to keep reminding himself that Tony was a heterosexual and worst of all, married. Strange, Tony hadn’t introduced Ryan to his wife. He’d seen her of course at Surf Club functions, but apart from that, he knew nothing. Tony didn’t even talk about her . . . ummm, what’s her name? . . . so Ryan surmised the marriage wasn’t happy.

If only the harpy would get swallowed up by a big white pointer . . . “

Perhaps it was just the aftermath of Ryan’s new job, perhaps it was the sun streaming down, perhaps it was just two lonely souls needing companionship, perhaps it was the cleansing waves washing over their bodies, or perhaps it was just two young men who liked each other. In any event, when the sun set they resumed their camaraderie up in the Surf Clubhouse with icy cold bottles of beer.

The Surf Club House had two stories. The ground level accommodated storage for the Surfboats and longboards, as well as a first aid station, a change room, and showers. The large upper level hosted functions as well as admin stuff. This is also where a general watch surveyed the beach and surf conditions. Outside the function area, a broad veranda provided a social area where members boozed and generally relaxed. Usually, members joined together in large circles of pissed and always rowdy males. Females were not welcomed.

On this day, however, Ryan and Tony sat by themselves looking out at the beautiful beach and blue-white waves. For some reason, they sought solace and quietly drank beer. After consuming several bottles, Ryan became bold.

“You interrogated me about girlfriends but what about you. I never hear you talking about yer wife. Shit man, I don’t even know her name. Why the mystery?”

“No mystery, and her names Paula. Yeah, I don’t do I? I mean, ummm, talk about our marriage?”

“Look, man, if I’m getting too personal just tell me to piss off. I know some private stuff can be hurtful and don’t bear talkin’ about. It’s just that yer me best mate and you’ve helped me so much, I want to do something to help you, if possible. I’d never betray yer confidence, I hopes yer knows that.”

“(Becoming thoughtful) To anybody else I’d say piss off, but I trust you Ryan and frankly, yes, I would like to talk about me and Paula.”

Ryan stayed quiet whilst he watched this beautiful man go through personal torment.

“The problem is we married too young. I got hitched at nineteen, just when she turned eighteen. We thought we were in love, but it soon showed we really didn’t have much feeling for each other. I don’t know why, but she couldn’t get pregnant, so without anything binding us together, we drifted apart. Of course, me being a school teacher on a basic salary didn’t help. Paula likes the high life, you know parties, restaurants, good clothes, and such, whereas I’m just sorta basic. A few beers with me mates and a quiet home life is all I’ve ever wanted. I like movies, she doesn’t; I love the beach; she doesn’t; I love going for walks, she doesn’t; I enjoy watching a footy match, she doesn’t; and I like playing cards with me mates, and of course she doesn’t. Not too good eh?”

“Yeah, I’m just a kid but it don’t sound good. (Long pause) Tony d’yer reckon yer lonely?”

“(Punching Ryan softly on his shoulder) Mate you’re far from being just a kid; and to answer your question, which is very perceptive, yes I’m lonely, that’s why I value your friendship, boyo.”

“There have been times in me life I’ve had to unload troubles. That’s why Tommo and I were so close, we knew each other’s shit. That’s what I miss the most Tony, the closeness of having a best mate.We’re only human and there are times ya needs to unload yer crap. We were blood brothers ya know.”

“Ok, now that’s sad, I mean losing someone so close. I mean I understand why you were so upset. I hope you can see me as good a mate as you had with Tommo. I hope so.”

“You gotta be kidding. I’d do anything for you Tony, anything at all. I hope you know that. (Tony nodded thanks) But look we were talking about you. Do ya get to talk to yer wife much? I mean, tell her that yer lonely?”

“(Hesitantly) Nah . . . seems we never get together on a personal level. And to forestall your question, sex is just a memory; for me, at least. I don’t know about her, I guess she’s getting’ it elsewhere.”

“Don’t that bother you, I mean thinking some other shitface is. .?”

“It should but it doesn’t. That’s how far we’ve moved apart. I don’t care if someone else is ploughing the field. There, I’ve said it.”

They remained silent for several moments. Ryan tried to get his head around what Tony just said.

“Shit, that’s real shitty. I want to help Tony; how can I help. Tell me how I can help. I’m totally there for you.”

“I know that, and I don’t take our friendship lightly. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time. Whilst I’m helping you, I’m also helping myself. (Sombrely) Don’t ask me to explain that.”

And Ryan didn’t, because both men sensed they’d become glued together and explanations weren’t necessary.

It just felt good.

<><><><>

14.3

Getting from his home to the Vet College didn’t worry Ryan at all. The first two legs were exactly as he’d travelled to Grammar School. The last leg, in a bus, was just a little longer.

His first day, like starting every new job, became a confusing mixture of faces, smells, names, and instructions. He loved it. By Wednesday the confusion abated, and he settled into the daily routine. One of his daily duties required him to take lunch orders and deliver them back to the staff. The first time he did this, it appalled him to learn the people were doing an autopsy on a horse. When he entered the room, they were wearing gumboots and all around them were intestines and other contents of the horse’s carcase. The smell hit him like a sledgehammer and he almost lost his breakfast. Nothing fazed the others, however, and they contentedly started eating their lunch, ignoring the smell and sight of a butchered horse.

Surprisingly, he simply got used to the smell and put it down to furthering his education. Of course, he derived great joy in telling his parents about the smell and sight of steaming intestines.

On the Wednesday night he arrived home about ten, hungry and tired.

“Hey mum, where’s me dinner, I’m starved . . . gawd, what’s wrong?”

Clare’s face was livid and twisted into a mask of hatred.

“Have a look at the notice in this morning’s Manly Daily paper. Here, your gran’s highlighted it.”

Ryan read,

 

Man charged with Gross Indecent Behaviour

Angus Perkins, 23 years old, a postal employee, was found guilty of soliciting sex at Belmore Park, a well known haunt for homosexuals. His address is a Caravan Park near the Manly Dam. Neighbours reported frequent visits by under-age boys which is, by itself, a serious separate offence. A custodial sentence of no less than ten years has been imposed.

Ryan froze. He could hardly believe his eyes. His thoughts were chaotic.

Oh my god, Gus charged and sentenced to ten years in jail. What happened? It must have been a trap. And shit, the reference to young boys could only mean me. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What am I gonna do? Did Gus tell them my name? I’m dead!

Overall his mother ranted.

“See, I told you to be careful. These evil monsters prey on young children and force them to indulge in heinous acts. And he was our postman. Your Grandmother often talked to him because he seemed nice. NICE! These monsters cloak themselves in pleasantness, hiding their true evil intent. Remember, I told you to be careful of anyone trying to be friendly, well I’m right, aren’t I? Let this be a lesson.”

Clare’s diatribe allowed Ryan some time to collect his composure, but only just because he couldn’t believe the newspaper report. The article devastated him; he couldn’t wait to be alone, so he could think rationally. He’d certainly lost his appetite. With his mother ranting about deviates and homosexuals, he just picked at his food and quickly excused himself.

Back in his room and the house now quiet, he allowed himself to truly panic.

Gus . . . police . . . jail, oh my god, this is awful. I’ll never see him again. Wait . . . that’s not true. I could go and see him in prison. How do yer do that? Would he be allowed visitors? I dunno. Shit, what’d the paper say something about under-aged boys visiting the caravan? Shit, that’s me. Please, please Gus don’t dob[3] me in. Just when me life’s beginning to go well and this happens. Please baby Jesus keep me outta the whole mess. I can’t handle any more shit. But I gotta find out more, but . . . how? If I start asking funny questions will people think I’m part of Gus’s activities’, I gotta keep me name out of it. And then there’s work. They’d probably fire me for being a deviant. And me mates, they’d drop me like a hot potato if they found out what Gus and I were doing. Nothing more I can do, just wait for a loud knock on the front door in the middle of the night.

Well, that’s enough about me; I wonder how Gus is travelling?”

All through the long night Ryan tossed and turned but sleep never came. Around three a.m. he climbed out of bed, sat at his desk, and stared out the window.

Once again I’m alone. If only I could talk to Tommo . . . or somebody. I don’t know nuthin about police procedure. Will they beat Gus to get him to talk? Will they offer him a deal if he gives them names of other homos? If only I could find what’s happening. Gawd I’m gonna be a wreck at work today. Say, enough about me, what about Gus? The paper said he’s been sentenced to ten years. TEN YEARS! I don’t think he’ll survive ten years. Oh Gus, Gus, Gus. If there’s a God, please Sir, look after me mate. He’s a really good fella and I’m gonna miss him. I really will. Not for the sex but because I can talk to him. He’s the only one I could talk to Sir, and now there’s no-one. How about I make a deal with you . . . I’ll go to Mass next Sunday and say an Act of Contrition[4], If’n you’se’ll look after me mate – his name’s Gus, or you might know him as Angus - I promise I will . . . I promise.

Somehow he felt better, but only just. Any moment he expected a thumping knock on the front door. He shuddered.

Next morning he couldn’t eat breakfast, giving some excuse about a stomach bug. Going to work was a long, long journey with one over-riding emotion . . . fear!

Thursday and Friday found him existing in a trance. He functioned only with a feeling something bad was about to happen. He concocted an alibi of sorts should the police confront him. It sounded lame but admitting being a homosexual terrified him. Once again Tommo’s plea echoed through his brain.

When Saturday arrived and still no contact from the cops, he started to feel easier. But then he presumed they were playing a waiting game. They probably had him under surveillance, just waiting to see who he visited before pouncing on him. Or so he thought.

I’ll just have to keep watch for any suspicious characters stalking me. What to do about Tony? It would be disastrous to have Tony dragged into my own sordid mess. No, I’ll telephone Tony and tell him I’ve got too many assignments to complete and could we take a rain-check until the following Saturday. I need to go hide in my secret spot and try and . . .what? . . . What am I gonna do sitting in the bush? That’s cowardly and I’m a coward for thinking that. NO, bugger it, I’ll still see Tony as planned. Just being with him can chase away these deadly fears. If I start thinking about sucking his cock and having him . . .you know, that’s better than sitting alone and running away from life.

But Saturday also brought a new issue of the local paper containing disturbing news. Once again, his Nanna found the article. Ryan had started his breakfast when his Grandmother read the item out loud.

Convicted felon assaulted in custody

Angus Perkins, previously an employee of the Postal Service, was critically assaulted in Long Bay Jail as he began his ten-year sentence for Gross Indecency. He was admitted to (local hospital) with severe head injuries and other life-threatening complications. The Warden refused to comment further, except to say an investigation into the attack has commenced.

Ryan just crumpled inside as a cold icy wave of despair engulfed him. He just stared at his porridge trying to stifle the agonised moan threatening to find voice. His worst fears for Gus had now been realised and he didn’t have any hope of helping his friend. Nor could he get more news without exposing himself. The porridge went cold.

To Clare Seaton, this was joyful news and she immediately sprang to the attack.

“Oh my, oh my, oh my. There is justice after all. You said his injuries were ‘life-threatening’ didn’t you? (Merle nodded). Well, I hope he dies in slow agony. Death is too good for the likes of him. It’s good to hear that some fellows are real men and have dealt out to the creature his just reward. I only hope . . .”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! I’m tired of listening to your poison, mother. You are quick to criticize others forgetting you’re probably the worst mother anyone can have. YOU’RE FUCK’N EVIL! (his mother, father and grandmother just stared at Ryan with open mouths) How dare you inflict your venom on me. I’m just a kid and shouldn’t have to listen to your poison. It’s a form of child abuse and should be reported to the cops. Whoever and whatever this person is, he’s also a human being and deserves to be treated as such. If this is your version of Christianity then I reject it . . .”

“(Screeching) I’M YOUR MOTHER . . .”

“(Sternly) Shut up Clare, whinging about yourself won’t help.(turning to Ryan) Now son I support you because no-one’s perfect. We’re all human beings and as such are flawed. Isn’t that what Christianity’s teaches? . . . something about forgiving sins and crap, but please speak your mind without bad language, I’m sure . . .”

“(Yelling) WHAT! Are you going to support him in defending that vile creature? That makes me think . . .”

(Harshly) Thinking Clare isn’t one of your obvious talents. Ryan isn’t supporting the man’s crime, he’s just pointing out that we’re all flawed and should respect each other . . . that even includes you, wife!”

All the while Merle sat enjoying the verbal storm she’d created, but now she turned on her daughter.

“Where did you get this shocking attitude from, Clare? I never taught you to think like that and the Catholic school you went to practised good Christianity. Never would any Christian teach such dreadful poison. You don’t know anything about this poor man, you don’t know what drove him to be the way he is, do you? (Clare stayed silent) NO, I thought not! You should be ashamed of yourself. You should start thinking, daughter, because your son has just given you a basic lesson in behaving like a mature human being. You should . . .”

“(BAWLING) STOP, STOP IT! I’m not going to listen to any more abuse. I’m (sob) going back to bed (getting up and shouting over her shoulder) and you can all look after yourselves for once.”

Ryan, his father, and Merle just smiled after her retreating back. This was a form of emotional blackmail oft used by Clare Seaton, so they just let her go. As soon as she realized no-one would coddle her, she’d get back up.

Of course, none of this helped Ryan. He just sat there not really listening to the voices around him.

Gus, Gus attacked, Gus critically injured, Gus in hospital in Emergency. I can’t do anything. I can’t even call the hospital to find out how bad his injuries are. I can’t even call the hospital to find out if he’s still alive. I wish I was dead.

Are you alright, Ryan? You don’t look well. How about a great big granny hug, eh?”

“It’s alright Nanna. Mum upsets me the way she talks about other people. Why is she so nasty Nan? Me mates mums don’t give out the stuff that comes from her mouth. I don’t understand. Why Nanna?”

“Yes, why indeed? It’s a good question and I don’t have an answer for you. I am pleased however that you and your father are getting on better. I think you should build on that for both your sakes.”

With the time now after ten a.m. he had plenty of time before meeting Tony around two p.m. Just then Geoff hollered to meet out front, so the two of them sat out front just hanging out. Of course, Gus the postie loomed large on their minds.

“I only met him the day you and Bert went the biff. He’s the bloke that dragged the two of you apart, right? (Ryan simply nodded) Wow, to learn he’s a homo just floored me; after all I thought those blokes were all ‘queeny‘, y’know sissy voices and limp wrists. He looked like a regular bloke, he did.”

“Yeah, surprising ain’t it. Did ya see the thing in this morning’s paper?”

“Nah, not yet. Why, what gives?”

“The paper said he’d been assaulted in the clink[5] and had to be rushed to hospital. He might even be dead now. I mean, he and I used to talk friendly like; he never forced himself on me, so I don’t know what the fuss’s all about. He didn’t do me no harm.”

“Yeah, but havin’ sex with other blokes is illegal ain’t it? It’s all too weird fer me. Couldn’t imagine stickin’ me cock up a blokes bum even if’n you’se paid me. Yuk! But that’s just my opinion. Takes all kinds don’t it? I mean why would ya choose t’do that?”

“I dunno. Reckon they don’t know much about it, I mean it’s all hush-hush, no one wants to talk about . . . y’know, what you said.”

“Yeah anyway, I feels sorry for the blighter[6]. Enough of that, tell me how the job’s going. Are there any spunky sheilas working with ya?”

“Great and nope. Being a Vet is heavy going sometimes, so I reckon sheilas can’t do the physical work. I mean, they’se brainy enough but takes some muscle to deal with animals. I love it Geoff, made me want to be a Vet even more. Can’t wait to start studying full time.”

“And night school? Not too much study work?”

“At first I baulked a bit but with Tony coaching me it’s a lot better. I owe him heaps, firstly about the year twelve exam and secondly, the Bronze. How ya going with that?”

“Shit, ya just reminded me I gotta go study for it. I’m a bit lazy when it comes to the books. I couldn’t take on what you did; I gotta admire you Ryan, takes guts to do what yer doing.”

“Arrh, cut the bullshit, I ain’t got no choice, so no use complaining. See ya.”

When Geoff left, Ryan returned back to his room to study, but really he just thought about Gus and wondering what he could do to help. Then little Gus jumped on the bed and snuggled up. Just patting and caressing the little mite brought some relief to his emotional pain.

Then around mid-day, Tony called. Apparently, his wife’s mother had taken ill, and he’d promised to drive her to see the old lady. Ordinarily, Ryan would be disappointed, but in the circumstances, it turned out to be a relief. Being in such an emotional state, he knew he couldn’t face Tony without disclosing his secret.

<><><><>

14.4

Sunday saw him accompanying Merle to church. He’d promised God he’d do an Act Of Contrition and he had to keep his word. It is usual for a supplicant to pray before the beginning of Mass, so Ryan took this opportunity to make good on his promise. Looking like a little angel, the little shit got down on his knees and,

(Murmuring) Hey Mister God, I ‘m sorry if I’ve done wrong. I hates bein’ bad because I’m shit-scared of being punished, and don’t want you’se t’get shitty with me, because if’n yer ridgy-didge I don’t wanna upset you’se. If’n ya looks after me mate Gus, I promise I’ll try and be good, and not give in to temptations. But Mister I get’s so horney, I just gotta blow or me balls‘ll drop off. If I do stray, ain’t it part you’se fault fer makin’ me this way. Anyway, as I said I’ll try . . . so here goes.

There, he’d done it! Now it’s in God’s hands; he’d done what he promised. Looking on, his grandmother smiled benignly. Then came the sermon.

Father O’Brian paused after mounting the pulpit and stared down at his flock. His severe demeanour meant that his sermon would be harsh and, like the thundering prophets of old, he assumed the mantle of righteous indignation. The congregation waited.

“(Sternly and loud) You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination. (Pause) Leviticus 18:22! (Pause) . . . If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them. (Pause) Leviticus 20:13! . . . (Pause) There, it could be no plainer. Homosexuality is an abomination in the eyes of God and the penalty is death. (He hesitated and glared stonily over the congregation.) SO WHAT DO WE FIND? In our small community there existed an evil beast hiding as a Postal employee, and whilst going about his duties, he perverted our youth with his vile practices . . .

(The atmospherics changed as a soft but hostile murmuring could be heard and seemed to swell in volume, before dying away)

. . . Yes, you’ve all read the papers and know he was found guilty and sentenced to ten years. The Bible demands death but we, being a Christian community, let the monster off with a small jail sentence. He should have been sentenced to death!

When are we going to learn? When are we going to acknowledge that Homosexuality and Communism are the two sinister forces bringing disaster both to our community and our country? Both challenge the family and Christianity; they make no secret they intend to undermine the basic beliefs of our people, and that includes those precious to us . . . our children.

These wretched Homosexuals prowl only at night around seedy toilet blocks seeking out their prey. They are disgusting and evil. There is no punishment, short of death, too harsh for these swine. Now I read in yesterday’s paper that some valiant souls have acted, in God’s name, and metered out righteous punishment, the type of which is laid down by God. We should give thanks indeed that someone has listened to God and did His bidding. We must stamp out all perverts and perversion whenever and wherever they occur. Each of us bears this responsibility. . .”

“NO! . . . NO! . . . You’re wrong!”

Interrupting the Priest in midst diatribe, a man stood up and glared at Father O’Brian, who looked stunned. Then recovering,

“Sit, sit you down, this is no place for a debate because . . .”

A low murmuring sound came from the congregation, and all eyes turned to the interjector who, stood his ground and looked to be furious. Then he spoke angrily.

“I’ve been a member of this church for some years. I am also a neighbour to the Davis family who whose son Tomas committed suicide because he was a Homosexual. I want everyone here to know, and particularly you O’Brian, that he was a good kid who had the misfortune to be born attracted to his own sex. It was the hatred and spite promoted by cretins such as you O’Brian, that caused him to be bullied at school and . . .”

STOP! Stop this instant. I will not be spoken to like this in my own church. This is a House Of God and you . . . anyway, who are you?”

“My name doesn’t matter, what does matter is that people like you O’Brian shouldn’t be listened to. The same spiteful venom which you promote is the same venom that caused a fine young man to end his life. I accuse you O’Brian of contributing to the death of a wonderful young man. Hopefully, one day creatures like you will be jailed for hating ordinary people. Our new world holds no place for you, O’Brian . . .”

“GET OUT! GET OUT! I will not have . . .”

“Oh I’m going mister, and I’m going with a fine conscience that I’ve spoken up on behalf of Tomas Davis. All the culprits whose actions drove the boy to kill himself have been dealt with by the authorities. The Headmaster and others involved in this crime, have been brought to justice. All, . . . except you and your church. How does it feel to be responsible for the death of a child, Priest?”

As he commenced to wend his way down the pew towards the centre aisle, someone began to clap. It began softly at first but then, to everyone’s surprise, and O’Brian’s horror, the clapping grew louder. Soon, people began to get up and follow the man outside. The priest, in his prettiest vestments, stood gaping as finally, nearly half the congregation left the church.

“COME BACK! COME BACK! The Mass isn’t finished. It is a sin to leave before Communion. COME BACK . . . PLEASE.”

Ryan and Merle were just as stunned as anybody at the turn of events. Ryan, on the point of tears, suddenly felt a surge of hope. Then his Nanna turned to him,

“C’mon boyo, let’s leave. I’ve listened to this priest spew out his venom for too long. Let’s get out of here. I couldn’t stay for a moment longer. C’mon Ryan.”

Outside a ring of people surrounded the man offering him congratulations and words of support. Merle turned to Ryan,

“We can get the early bus if we hurry. I’d like to congratulate that man for having the guts to stand up to people like Father O’Brian, but let’s hurry to the bus stop.”

For her age, Merle didn’t carry any infirmity., and Ryan struggled to keep up to her. Sitting down awaiting the bus she hugged Ryan saying,

“At long last someone spoke up for Tommo. I wish I had the courage that man had because it’s been worrying me no one spoke for your mate. I know he wasn’t bad; in the rare times I met him he’d been polite and respectful. Just because he didn’t like girls doesn’t mean he had to die. I said a rosary[7] for his soul and also his parents but, until today, no one spoke for the dead boy. To me that is the biggest crime, not his sexual orientation.”

Just then the bus came. After settling in Merle continued.

“Young man, I hope you never hate or pour scorn on anyone who’s different to you. Everyone deserves our respect Ryan; it’s when you lose people’s respect that you have problems. Take Father O’Brian, he’s lost the respect of his parishioners now and will find it nearly impossible to regain that esteem. What I’m trying to say is once folks respect you, don’t do anything to lose that trust. It’s life’s eternal struggle . . . to maintain respect. Y’hear?”

“Yeah, yeah I do Gran. I never thought about stuff like that. It makes sense. And thanks for sayin’ kind things about Tommo. I knowed he wasn’t bad, but everyone kept sayin’ he’s wicked, so what’s a kid like me to do. Me mother would only scream at me and call me nasty names. Did I ever tell you I luv you Nan? If I haven’t . . . I do, I do.!”

“Come here; mercy, you’re getting too big for me to hug boyo.”

“Never Nan, never.”

 

[1] A nasty and unexpected cricket bowling action

[2] A protection against sunburn

[3] Slang for being reported to police

[4] Very strong Catholic supplication

[5] Slang for jail.

[6] Slang for a male

[7] The ultimate Catholic worship. A string of beads denotes prayers for Mary the mother of Christ and the Lords Prayer. Takes about half an hour to complete.

Copyright © 2019 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.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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