Young, Gay and Scared - 3. Chapter 3

3.1

“. . . you mark my words, Clare, sending Ryan to an expensive Public school will cause problems for him and you. Even working, you can't afford his school fees let alone uniform, books, and equipment. There are many decent and inexpensive Catholic schools locally, and he would have the benefit of a good religious teaching. However, he doesn't want to go to a Catholic school so, while I'm disappointed, you should let him go to Manly Boy's High with his mate Bluey. This is . . ."

"NO! I don't want him mixing with riff-raff at a local school. I know all about James Wheeler (Bluey) and that tart of a mother Mandy (Wheeler). They're trash, and I don't want my son associating with her son. Also, mother dear, that whore next door, Linda Cree, is also sending her offspring to Manly Boy's. She's a common slut who tried to snare my husband - the weak bastard that he is - and I'll never forgive her . . .

Or him

. . . for waving her putrid fanny[1] underneath Bill's nose. I nearly laughed my head off when she ended up with that ape-man Fred Cree. They deserve each other, they do. As . . ."

"What are you going on about Clare? I started talking about Ryan's education and somehow, you've brought it back to yourself. It's about my grandson, not you."

"Shut up mum; I know what's good for my son, not you. At a Private school, he'll meet the right people and establish contacts that will help his career. The Grammar School has a very successful football program that's good for his future development. I'll find a way with the money, so I don't want to hear anything more about it."

"You always did have your head in the clouds, Clare. You're not fooling me. This isn't about Ryan it's about you wallowing in the prestige of having your son in a Private School. It will end badly, you mark my words."

"Honestly mother there are times I want to scream at you. You never cared about us kids wanting to better ourselves. We could've gone to proper finishing schools but instead, you let that bastard father of mine waste all the money on booze. Fitting wasn't it, that he died falling of the church roof blind drunk. What an apt way for a drunkard to go; I reckon the money . . . "

"Don't you dare talk ill of your father, especially now that he's dead. I'm ashamed to have such a vindictive daughter like you (Pause) Once again you've brought the discussion back to yourself. You are the most exasperating person I know, Clare. If I had the money, I'd take Ryan away from you and that protestant creep you call husband. I'd let him go to Manly Boy's High where he wants to go."

"Well thankfully that's not going to happen and for what it's worth you can leave anytime you want. Go and live with my low-life brother why don't you, that's if he'll have you."

At this point, Ryan arrived with items his mother had requested from the local grocer’s shop.

"Are you and nan still arguing? Just once I'd like to come in and find some peace."

"It's not me Ryan it's your grandmother attacking me as usual. I'm the one who does the cooking, ironing, washing, housekeeping and paying the bills. For my pains, I am abused both physically and verbally. Do I hear anyone say 'We love you Clare' or 'thanks for making breakfast' or 'that was a great dinner'? No, all I get is abuse. Why I keep going is a testament . . . "

"To you loving to be a victim, daughter! You wallow in misery and play the suffering role as often as you can. It was no different when you were little. I had to put up with your continual whinging, whining, and harping about how you suffered from neglect. Actually, you were successful because your father and I spent most of our time addressing your imaginary misfortunes. The other kids suffered because of your whinging. May I remind you that to be loved you have to love in return. Never once, and I repeat never once, did I hear you tell any of your siblings that you loved them - you just expected them to love you without you loving them in return. And another . . ."

"Wow, that‘s a mouthful. You always did enjoy putting me down, didn't you? (Turning to Ryan) You see dear what your mother has had to put up with all these years. Even your own nanna hates me. It's a pity you came home early that time and saved my life because it would've been kinder to let me die. I crave peace and the only peace I'm going to get is when I'm dead. When I'm gone you'll realize . . ."

"OH, shut up Clare, you're disgusting. You're frightening the lad and I find that despicable, truly despicable. Go outside Ryan, your mother's talking drivel and you don't want to hear anymore. Go outside and play dear."

"Yes, go outside Ryan and keep a watch for the postman."

Ryan needed no urging and departed the malicious atmosphere quickly. To him, staying in the house was not an option. Both women were warming up for another verbal showdown and he wanted no part of it. He knew, somehow, they'd drag him into the affray if he stayed.

With Ryan gone Merle turned on her daughter.

"You are headed for a serious problem with Ryan and it has to do with your expectations. Wha . . . (Clare tried to interrupt) No, Clare, let me finish. You expect him to excel academically, you expect him to be a star footballer, you expect him punch up the young lad next door, and I daresay you expect him to marry and give you grandchildren. All these expectations, all these expectations Clare, are your expectations. Have you considered what'll happen, if the lad can't live up to them? Will you berate him? Will you penalize him? Will you shun him . . . Eh? What will you do daughter? No one person has the right to impose his or her expectations on another. I didn't. With you, I didn't . . . and neither did your father."

"Oh, save me from your geriatric dribble. My father did absolutely nothing for us kids. The booze and his mates were all he could think about. As for Ryan, he's my kid and I'll do anything to make him a success. He won't let me down because he loves me and knows that everything I do is for his benefit - his ultimate benefit. You'll see, just you watch and see. Now go and read the Catholic Weekly[2] and let me get on with my chores."

However, Merle just sat and shook her head sadly. She already sensed trouble.

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3.2

Ryan sat on the front fence and relished the peace and quiet. It was sunny again with a cool but refreshing autumn bite in the air. He wanted no part of the scene inside.

I 'spose in a way that It's good me Nan's living with us. She's a boring nut when it comes to religion but she's old, and if that's all she's got to make her happy, well good luck to her. At least she stands up to me mum and the boozer when they'se dumps on me. For an old boiler, she's Ok; at least I can talk to her about school things. This reminds me . . . ahh here comes the Postie. Geeze, he looks a bit young t'be a postman. Musta left school early, I reckon.

The person in question carried a large bag on his back and held mail items in his right hand. He looked to be a bit confused so, being curious, Ryan strolled over to him.

"What's up mister, you look a bit baffled."

"Yeah, I'm new to this. In fact, today's my first day and I don't know the route too well. Makes matters worse that there's no street numbers shown on any houses. If I stuff up and put the wrong mail in a letterbox, me boss's gonna fire me for sure. Can you help? I mean what's the number of your place. If I knows that I can work out the others - I think."

"(Laughing) yeah, we're number 16 so yer can easily work out the other even numbers this side. I'll walk with ya until yer ready to do the other side, which will be the odd numbers, Ok?"

"Hey, thank you. Why d'yer think there's no numbers in your street?"

"Yeah I asked me Da one time and he said that when the Japs were threatening to invade, the council took down all the street signs."

"What for?"

"To confuse 'em if they'se landed here in Manly. Then some of the owners decided to remove our street numbers as well. Bit of an over-kill I reckon."

"I reckon, yeah. (Pause) Say, what's yer name?"

"Me? I'm Ryan. What's yours?"

"Gus, no other name, just Gus. Me full names Angus, but I never use it. You're lucky with Ryan 'cause yer can't shorten Ryan, can ya?"

"Nope, (Laughing) 'cept I've been called some other, not so kind, names."

(Smiling) Same here. Most of them that bad-mouth me are arseholes anyway, so I take no notice. Bit hard at times though."

"Where do yer live, Gus? I mean do you live local?"

"Home's up country in Narrabri[3]. I came down here to find work. Parked me caravan out near that dam and straightway got this job with the Post Office. I'm not too bright, I mean didn't even pass the Intermediate, so I have to just do manual work. Suit's me though, I couldn't work in an office because I love bein' outdoors."

"Lucky you, no I mean it. If yer doin' what you likes, then I reckon that's important. I'm a bit like you 'cause I don't like school, but me mum's got high-flying plans for me and I know I'm gonna disappoint her. She's got me goin' to a posh school whereas I wanted to go to the local High school with some of me mates. Count yerself lucky Gus."

As they were talking, Gus sorted the mail numerically and with Ryan's help, he managed to get the mail in the right letterboxes. They stopped for a break when there was no more mail for this street.

Surprisingly, Ryan found Gus pleasant and when they'd finished he was reluctant to see him go. There was an awkward pause as the two boys faced each other. Gus was about a head taller with brown curly hair; he was good looking in a rough way, and strongly built. His uniform pants were too tight so when he bent over his cute bum stared at Ryan.

There was silence until,

"Look I gotta thank you for helpin' me. Wouldna had a clue otherwise. Hope ya don't mind but I like talkin' to you. You'se been nice and friendly-like, which I appreciate. Commin' down here straight from up country I thought it'd be hard to make friends or just to get to know folks. (Sigh) I'd like to keep chatting but I gotta finish me route. Will you be home tomorrow?

"Yeah mate. I'm on me school holidays and don't have a lot to do. In summer I'd go swimming but now's a bit cold. If yer Caravan's near the dam, I could . . ."

"How old are you?"

"Me . . . I'm thirteen and can't wait . . ."

"I'm sixteen. Is it a problem that I'm three years older than you?"

"No, of course not. Maybe it's the other way round. I mean are you Ok bein' friendly with some kid three years younger?"

"Doesn't matter. What matters is that we enjoy each other's company, that’s all. Well, best be going. See you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow mate."

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3.3

"(Angry) . . . no shit-face, I won't. I won't join you in your nasty with Ryan Seaton. He ain't done nuthin to me and as far as I can tell, he ain't done nuthin to you, big brother. You're always scraping with him . . . why? He belted you up real good last Friday and yet you won't stop this bloody hostility. I reckon you won't stop until either of you'se'll be hurt real bad, so what's the point?"

"(Sneering) Yer a coward Geoff. . .."

"(Outrage) Don't you dare call me a coward! How can you say that when you've watched little me take on big forwards on the footy field. No, I'm not a coward, but you're stupid!"

"(Mollified) Yeah well, I grant you're Ok on the footy field, but this is a matter of family honour. You heard Pop[4] tell about how he hates the Seatons, so if it's good enough for Da it's good enough for me, and it should be good enough for you. I love him and that's all that matters."

“(Moderated) Yeah well, I love him too, but it doesn't mean I have to do every fuckin' thing he asks. What about Mum, I don't hear her ranting about the people next door. Although I ain't heard her say anything good, but she don't encourage us to belt each other up either. Just leave me outta yer war Bert."

Silence, as the two brothers just glared at each other.

"Ok Geoffrey, I'll do it meself. Just a sec, (a thought crossed Bert's mind) have you been cosying up to Seaton sorta friendly like?"

"Yeah, I have. Once you get talkin' to Ryan, he's a good bloke[5]. Now before you go losing it, I'll talk and make friends with who I likes."

“(Mocking) Oh, now the bastard's turned me own brother against me. He's a mongrel is Ryan Seaton, a bloody mongrel. I'm gonna . . ."

“(Scorning) Oh piss off Bert! You make me sick. Piss off and go and wallow in yer hatred - leave me out've it. Perhaps you should ask Pop why he hates the Seaton's so much. Go on, ask him and see if he gives you a good reason to go the biff[6] with Ryan."

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3.4

Ryan was sitting on his front fence waiting for Gus. He'd been thinking about their talk yesterday and decided that Gus was a good fella, someone he could relate to. With Tommo away at boarding school and Bluey spending all his time with his girlfriend, Ryan was lonely. It was good to have someone to chat with, someone around his own age. Being three years younger wasn't a problem with him - as long as it wasn't a problem with Gus. His musing was suddenly interrupted by,

"Well look who's here, eh. My, don't you look good today. I bet yer mamma bathes you and makes yer hair all pretty like. Does she wipe yer bum after you've had a shit, eh? Maybe she gets off sniffin' her young'uns poo, does she lay ya down and stick her nose in yer arse-crack? You may think yer shit don't stink, but I bet she enjoys a good snuffle. I 'spose she's proud of her pretty girlie . . ."

Ryan's good mood evaporated. He jumped off the fence and met Cree head-on so that they stood toe to toe in a fighting stance.

"(Sneering) Jesus Cree you've got a filthy mouth and a filthy mind. You're disgusting. Whatever issue you reckon you've got with me leave me mum out've it, Or else . . ."

"(Challenging) Or else what? Or else you'll punch me? Is that it? Well Ok, it's just you and me now Seaton. You don't have that cunt Tomas backin' you up, so any time you want to mix it I'm here boyo. And I do have issue with you; seems you've done turned me young brother against me now. The idiot thinks yer all right and likes being friends with ya. I don't know what . . ."

"Yeah well Geoff's intelligent and sees you for what you are - an ignorant mental case, a monkey who shouldn't be let out've yer cage. Bet yer favourite foods peanut butter, Eh? And leave Tommo out've this because it's just between you and I, or should I say between yer father and me, because as I see it yer just doin' his cowardly work."

"AAAHHH you cunt! I'll kill yer for that!"

Bert Cree launched himself at Ryan and both boys went down in a twisting, punching, kicking and gouging mass of fury. It was no holds barred and no quarter given such was the ferocity of the fight. In the space of a few minutes, brutal punches were scored, and blood flowed freely. The onslaught continued unabated, as both boys sought dominance. It became a question of who could inflict the most pain and probably render the other unconscious. Then magically, a pair of strong hands appeared out of nowhere and pulled the antagonists apart.

Gus, the postie.

Like two alley cats, they tried to get at each other, but Gus's superior strength held them apart. Gradually the rage subsided, and they stood with chests heaving glaring at each other.

Gus looked from one to the other trying to suss out which one still had any dangerous fight left. The noise had drawn Geoff, Bert's brother out to the street and he helped Gus to keep the two foes away from each other.

"What's the matter boys? Why this bloody punch up? Are yer trying to kill each other?"

Silence. The antagonists stood still with heaving chests.

"Hey mister, I'm this one's brother and I'll take him inside to get cleaned up. Thanks for stopping these idiots from killing each other. They'se always at each other's throats."

"Ok, thanks . . .?

"Geoff."

"Right on. Take yer brother away and I'll look after Ryan here. Do you know what or who started it?"

"Hey, I'm here and I'll tell you. Cree started insulting me mother and I took issue with him. Then he attacked me. That's it, simple."

"Bullshit Seaton, bullshit. You called me Da a coward and I'm not gonna stand by . . ."

"ALRIGHT! alright. Geoff please take yer brother away and clean him up. I'll try and do the same with Joe Lewis here. Nice to meet you anyway."

After Geoff departed with a reluctant big brother in tow, Gus turned to Ryan.

"Here sport, let me use me hankie to wipe some of the blood off. If the amount of blood determines who won, I reckon it's you 'cause he's got more blood flowing than you. So how about it champ, what's it all about?"

"Nuthin really. Me and him have been at each other's throats since I can remember. It's sort of a family thing. (Pause) His family hates my family and us eldest are left to do the fighting. I don't even know why we've gotta fight. I mean, I'm friends with Geoff and he ain't got any quarrel with me. I guess sumthin happened in the past involving our families and . . . and, well, here we are."

“(Astonished) Geeze what a mess. From what you tell me it's between the two fathers to sort this out and shouldn't involve you kids. Have you asked yer dad about it?"

"Yeah many times. All he says is just past bad history and for me to leave it be. That I'll understand when I'm older."

“(Stunned) That's it! That's all he said. Well I can't get involved but from where I'm standing it's up to the two adults to sort it out - not, and I repeat not, you kids. C'mon I've gotta finish the mail drop. "

With that, Ryan followed Gus around as he did the mail. Eventually,

"With you helping I'm a bit ahead of schedule, so's we'll have time for a chit-chat. Any place where we can sit?"

"Yep my place. Mum and nan have gone shopping in the city and won't be home till about 5 p.m. Me dad don't get home till after six – (laughing) when the pubs shut. C'mon in and I'll get you'se a cold drink."

So, cold drinks in hand, they sat on the broad back steps. Once again, it was a lovely day - sunshine, cloudless sky, and no wind. At Gus's prodding, Ryan gave him a short run-down on his family life. Gus listened with increasing incredulity.

“(Alarmed) That's fuckin' horrible. Why d'yer reckon yer mum pulled that stunt? I mean to do that to a kid like you ain't right. No sir, it ain't right. It's bad mate, real bad."

"I guess so. Why, I dunno, except I know she ain't real happy like. Sometimes I wish they'd split so's I can have a relationship with either of them without all the crap. I know me Nan's disgusted with the way they carry on. (thoughtfully) You should meet her Gus, she's alright is me nan. Bit churchy but I suppose that's because she reckons she'll die soon and wants to make sure she gets to heaven. She's country like you - from Boggabri."

"Yeah, I know it. went there for a school trip once. Not much of a place though. She musta grew up on a property, eh?"

"I dunno, just that she's had a hard life. Makes me mad that she's gotta put up with me parents crap when she's old. Not right."

Gus sipped his drink as Ryan continued,

"What about you Gus; are you married or got a steady girlfriend?"

Pause.

"(Carefully) Nah, women are too much trouble, always wantin' you to spend, spend, spend on them. Add to that their constant nagging and bitching. Nah, not for me. I can do without them."

Ryan was silent as he digested this.

"(Alarmed) You don't approve, eh? D'yer think I'm weird not wanting to have a sheila in me life. C'mon out with it, you can be straight with me."

"(Confidently) Nope, it's not weird. Fact is I admire ya. I mean from what I've seen sheilas are nothing but trouble. I know that my mum makes me dad's life miserable. I don't wanna be like him. Anyway, I'm just not attracted to schoolgirls. I mean all they talk about is how to make themselves beautiful and what dresses they're gonna wear. Nah they're weird."

"Atta-boy, I can see we're gonna get along. Surprises me how alike you are to me at your age."

"(Troubled) So ya don't think I'll grow out've not liking girls. Some of the kids, even at a posh school, are always raving about this one having nice titties, or that one leg's and so on. Boors me it does, boors me. A big yawn. Maybe I'm weird wanting to spend me time with me mates rather than chasing skirt. Wadda ya think?"

"Don't fret it. Look at me, I can go wherever I want, do whatever I want, be friends with whoever I want, and can spend me money as I want to. Wouldn't change that for a piece of fluff."

Silence. Long pause.

"(Friendly) Say Ryan, has yer dad given you a talk about sex? I mean I remember when I was your age my body started changing and things began to happen that worried me. Do you have any worries?"

"(Cautiously) yeah, heaps. No, me dad hasn't said a word. All I know is what I hear from kids at school and I reckon it's mostly buillshit. I don't have any relationship with me father. We can hardly talk to each other."

"That's a shame; I'll see if I can help. Do you know how babies come about?"

"Oh yeah, a bloke fucks a sheila and puts stuff into her. Nine months later a baby pops out of her twat. Don't know much more than that, except I reckon it must hurt."

"(Laughing) a bit crude but well said. What do you know about yer own body, I mean how to pleasure yerself?"

Geeze I dunno how to answer that. He's getting' personal and I gotta be careful now. But Gus's been straight with me and I reckon he's a good friend. Got nuthin to lose so I'll be honest. Might learn a thing or two.

"(Embarrassed) I'm real horny all the time, Gus. Me cock seems to have a mind its own, like I can't control it. If I masturbate I feel all guilty because the priest says that’s a big sin and I won't go to heaven. D'yer reckon that's right?"

"(Forcefully) Nah, it's bullshit, religious bullshit. I mean priests are the worst. When I was about your age, I got seduced by a priest and he fucked me; all I heard was him moaning, not praying for forgiveness. They're hypocrites."

"Wow, can you . . ."

"(Interrupting) Look boyo I've gotta finish me rounds, but let's continue when I've got time and you're free. I can tell you all about sex and yer body, but not now. Do you know where the caravan park is?"

"Yeah, I knows. Which one's yours?"

"The big blue one. The rego's NP 3652. Can you find it and come by about 2 ^pm Saturday?"

"Yeah, no problem. I'll look forward to seein' ya."

"Right, that's settled, see you then."