Young, Gay and Scared - 5. Chapter 5

5.1

Tommo was devastated. During the train journey home, he tried to put a brave face on his situation, but with every passing mile the dread of going home intensified. That a momentary impulse could give rise to such savage circumstances crushed him. If the ignominy that preceded the school expelling him wasn't enough, he had to face the contempt of parents, friends, and extended family. It certainly wasn't fair. If he had been caught having sex with a girl, the matter would have been overlooked. As his partner was another boy, the incident created outrage and attracted the harshest punishment - expulsion.

He would never forget the devastation in his father's eyes after the Headmaster specified his transgression. Nor would he forget the feeling of utter emptiness that engulfed him as the specifics of the wrongdoing were discussed. He couldn't talk because he had nothing to say, nothing at all. He just became empty - and he wanted to die.

His Dad met him at Central Station, and during the ride home, the atmosphere was uncomfortable. Arriving home, his mother met him at the door and hugged him. She was also crying, but at least showed him the first spark of human kindness since the incident occurred. After he'd settled into his room, he reluctantly joined his parents at the kitchen table, the scene of all-important family decisions. Barely able to keep his emotions in check his father spoke first.

"Tomas, do you have anything you want to say? I mean anything that would lessen the impact of . . . of . . . what happened. Anything!"

Silently he shook his head whilst dissecting the patterns on the tablecloth.

"(Sigh) Tomas, we have to confront this whole situation as a family. I only hope your transgression was a momentary lapse of judgement and you simply gave in to unnatural desires. (Pause, staring at his son) I mean I have to hope that these feelings are only short term and will eventually pass. In that case, we will just try to put a brave as face we can and provide a plausible excuse for your early return from the College. (looking at his wife who nodded) I’m willing to let it be known that the fees were too high for you to continue and there we'll let the matter rest. (Speaking with difficulty) On the other hand, if you believe these feelings are deeply embedded, then we must seek medical help. I don't know what . . ."

"Please son, look at your father when he's speaking to you. We'll share your shame because we love you, but you must help us, Tomas, please say something."

Silence, and then,

"(Softly) no . . . (louder) no . . . (then shouting) NO, NO, NO! I can't live like this . . . What have I done wrong? please, please . . . someone, please help me!"

With that, he began to cry and then morphed into a strange wailing that sounded on the verge of hysteria. He fled into his room, still crying. It was an animal sound that stunned both the Davis's who now looked at each other with alarm. This keening was something they'd not heard before and it was truly unsettling. It was a primeval cry of pain, of someone standing on the precipice and preparing to take a step into oblivion.

In his room, Tomas let it all go. The fear, the fright, the despair, and the uncertainty that he'd suppressed since the incident, simply erupted. On his bed, he pulled the covering over himself and then over his head, so he could shut out the cruel world.

Why, why, why? I can't go on living like this. I feel so . . . so . . . dirty. I loved Alfred and he loved me. Why has our beautiful love been turned into something so nasty that it's been covered with shame? We haven't hurt anyone. We were good Christians. We were good students. We did our chores. We were popular, and . . . and . . . we fell in love. Every moment in this house I'll feel the disgrace that my parents endure on my behalf. I can't undo and go back. I can't . . . ever.

Sensing that his sobbing had stopped, Shirley Davis quietly opened his door and entered. The figure under the covers was now almost still and she spoke gently as she sat on the bed.

"Tomas, I love you son and whatever you've done it means nothing to me because I love you. Even if you'd been found guilty of murder I would still love you. I don't understand what happened at the school but I'm angry at what they did to you. They are not nice people. Nice people don't inflict emotional pain on young people in their care. Nice people don't create unnecessary misery. I'm going to stand by you, whatever it takes. I'm in your corner Tomas. Give your Dad some time and he'll come round. He's trying baby, and he's a good person. (Pause) Can I take the cover down, so I can look at you?"

Receiving no reply, she peeled the head covering off. Tomas lay on his side in a foetal position sucking his thumb. He was awake. She gazed down on him with a look of love that only a mother can bestow, but she was shocked at what she saw. He appeared to be in a daze, unfocused and traumatised. Then,

"Mum I'm so sorry. (Sob) I'm bad, really bad, and (choke) I'm evil. I'm not worthy of your love."

"Now stop that! Don't you dare say or think like that. Only your parents can decide if your good or evil - not you. It's not because I'm your mother that I say this Tomas, but you're a very good person who had the misfortune to run up against cruel bigotry. We were quite willing to take legal action, but then realised it would only add to your distress. Instead, we intend to write a tough letter to your school protesting their vicious treatment. Take heart son, we're here for you-you're not alone."

"You still love me after what I did?"

"Of course, silly, I told you no matter what you've done we'll always love you. (Pause) (Uncomfortable pause) Now I want you to be honest with me, have you had these feelings for other boys before?"

Tomas stared at his mother before answering. He'd been dreading having this conversation for some time, but after being assured of his mother's love, he decided to open up.

"(Hesitantly) I . . . I can't help it, mum, (pause) I'm not attracted to girls, I'm attracted to boys. (He waited for a response but when his mum said nothing he hurried on) It's . . . It's something I've been living with since I was about ten. I don't know what to do."

"(Sigh) (Stroking Tomas's brow) There's nothing you can do sweetheart, it's called being homosexual, and from what I know, it's a part of who you are. I know very little about homosexuality; all I do know is that it's a dangerous life. Everyone's against you - the church, the police, society, friends, school, and even some of our extended family. What you've just been through was ugly; (sigh) unfortunately, you can expect much of the same for the rest of your life. Your Dad and I will do everything we can to try to help, - I mean it."

"But . . . but aren't you disappointed? I mean, there'll be no grandkids for you to dote on. I so wanted to please you and . . . and, I've failed you. I'm really depressed mum because I've let you down and I can't do anything to make it right."

"(Sigh) (Sadly) Of course, I'm disappointed. I'd be lying to you if I said I wasn't. Yes, I shed a few tears when I heard the news, but it's not about me, it's about you. All I want is for you to be happy and have a happy life; at least if it's possible for you to have a happy life."

"(Sounding perplexed) in a way mum, I wish you were hostile and disgusted; at least then I'd know how to handle the situation. With you being so nice and supportive, I feel guilty and ashamed. I'll try my best mum, to undo the hurt I've caused. I reckon I've got the best mother in the whole world."

(Softly and caring) Tomas, I'm going to tell you something that I've kept as a family secret for some time. (Pause) In fact, I only told your father the night we got the call from school. (Brushing Tomas's hair) I had a cousin who was also a homosexual. When his close family found out, they abandoned him, threw him out of his home, and basically left him destitute. He became a street kid, selling his body just for money to stay alive. (Choke) Then one day when I went to Kings Cross[1] with some of my girlfriends, I saw him begging for money and he looked awful. (Pause, clearing her throat) I went over and introduced myself and he started crying. Not knowing what to do, I gave him my phone number and insisted he call me. He never did; soon after, some mongrels bashed him severely and he ended up in hospital critically injured. He only survived for two days. That is not going to happen to you my beautiful son; never will I let that happen to you."

"Gee, that's awful . . . really horrible, mum. I'm frightened . . . I mean why is the whole world so hostile about something I haven't any control over. I've tried to like girls, I really have, but except for being friends, that's all. It's not fair! I didn't want to be like this . . . I want to be normal, mum. Why can't I be normal?"

"(Sigh) normal? You ask me what's normal, baby. I don't know and neither does anyone else; there are so many shades of normal that I don't think the state of being normal exists. Instead, it's more about conforming to a group and group standards, than being 'normal'. Very simply, you can't conform to majority standards when it comes to sexual orientation, and therefore our society tends to criticise you for not conforming."

It was a silent tableau, a mother comforting and expressing love to her child when that child is in emotional pain.

"(Softly) Mum, I have the best mother in the world. You're not cross with me, even though no one would blame you if you were. Just knowing that you still love me gives me hope and strength to face anything the outside world can throw at me. I love you, mum."

"And I love you too, young man. Now dinner is nearly ready; in about thirty minutes, I'll call you. In the meantime, compose yourself and then come eat with us."

If only that ended the matter.

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5.2

“. . . please nanna, I don't want to go, I hate going to mass, it's boring!"

"(Patiently) Ryan I'm trying to look after your spiritual health, which is something you don't get at that Grammar School. It's not going to hurt spending a very short hour at mass and gaining knowledge from Father O'Brian's sermon. He's a very educated man and you can well benefit by listening to him. Come along now, we don't want to be late."

"(Cheekily) Are Catholics Christian nanna?"

"(Sounding miffed) Of course we are, our Lord died on the cross to forgive us our sins so that when we get to heaven we're in a pure state. What a silly question, you know better than to ask that."

"(Firmly) Well so are Protestants. Me mate Tommo tells me that they worship Jesus for the same reasons you just said. If that's so why can't I go to a Prodo church?"

"Hush your mouth! I've told you before they are not true Christians because they left the one true church which means that when they die they won't go to heaven. Now I'm not going to have this talk again, Ryan, you're just being naughty. Now hurry up and get ready to go, if we get there after the Offertory[2] begins, it means we've missed mass."

"You heard your Grandma, Ryan, hurry up and get dressed; I've left your church clothes on your bed, so be quick about it."

"Why don't you come with us mother? If I have to go, why won't you?"

"I'm too busy; after all I have to cook the Sunday dinner and don't have time to spend in church. (Merle simply glared at her daughter) As your Nanna said, going to mass is for your spiritual well-being."

"Bullshit!"

"Ryan language . . ."

"Well, that's just crap . . .

"(Angry) Ryan!"

. . . and you know it. What about my old man? He's a Prodo like Tommo and doesn't have to sit through a boring mass. I reckon Tommo's a lot better than a lot of Cadillac's I could mention, so it'd be a raw deal if'n he can't get to heaven. Anyway, I told you'se before, I think God's an arsehole for killin' all those innocent animals. You still haven't . . ."

"(Shouting) Shut up Ryan, get dressed, and go with your Nanna, otherwise you'll get no lunch!"

That did it.

Ryan's father drove them to the local Catholic Church, well in time for the agony to commence.

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5.3

Patiently, Ryan sat beside the old girl as the mass droned on and on, progressing through the various stages of, the Entrance, the Greeting, the Act of Penitence, the Kyrie Eleison, the Gloria, the Collect, the Gospel, and then to the Homily. When it came to the Gospel, all the faithful stood and when the reading concluded, it was time for the Homily - better known as the Sermon.

I reckon I'm only here for me Nanna's sake. She really digs all this crap and, as I love her heaps, I'll just have to humour her and pretend piety. (With the rest of the congregation, he sat down) Now comes the worst part, listening to father O'Brian. He gives me the shits, he's fat, ugly, smells and, the worst of all, he's bloody arrogant! Arrogant or pompous, take yer pick. Reckons his own shit don't stink! Heard tell one of the altar boys reckons the cunt tried to fondle him - hypocrite. Well, here he goes . . .

Father Patrick O'Brian was not an imposing figure. This Sunday he adorned himself with green vestments that signified a special event in the church's ecclesiastical year. He was grossly overweight, and the signs of heavy drinking were writ all over his face. Mounting the pulpit, he donned reading glasses, shuffled some papers around, and then peered menacingly at the congregation. Clearing his throat, he used his stentorian voice,

"Dearly beloved, friends. I'm going to depart from a discussion on today's gospel, and talk of a great danger facing our community, our nation, and perhaps the whole world. I'm talking about the evil, which goes by the name of homosexuality. You all (Ryan was suddenly sitting upright and attentive) know from reading 'Leviticus' that God distinctly calls this behaviour an abomination. However, we must make a distinction between being a homosexual and subsequently acting on the desires this unfortunate state demands. (What the fuck is he talking about?)

Holy mother Church is very kind when dealing with same-sex attraction. The Church teaches that having an attraction, or friendship, to one's own sex is not sinful; it's only when these persons give in to their lusts, that a sin is committed. (Sternly) It's a serious sin. Holy mother Church instructs that sex is a sacrament only conferred on married couples, with the express purpose of begetting children. (There was a general restlessness in the congregation. Ryan also became agitated).

(Shouting) You must be aware and vigilant! (Some people were becoming uncomfortable) These detestable deviants will prey upon your children and convert them to their sinful ways. (Ryan was now scared) As priests, we have conferred upon us then sacrament of absolution, empowering us to forgive sins. I will not, and there are many like me, (thumping the open bible) I will not grant absolution to any deviate who visits my confessional. It is a travesty against the purpose of absolution to forgive these loathsome creatures - and the law is on my side.

Many serious problems arise with these abominable creatures. Our government stipulates that these creatures are a security risk if they are part of our authorities at County, State, and National levels. Accordingly, many have been dismissed as they're identified. (Ryan was by now incensed) No redress at law is available to them, which is as it should be.

The schoolyard is yet another breeding ground for this abomination. Young boys, in particular, are easy converts to this hateful disease. At a time when young lads experiment and challenge the bounds of authority, these deviants make approaches in the form of promises, gifts, and other enticements, to convert impressionable young minds and bodies to their evil. Innocent young students are corrupted and damaged, some for life, by these experienced devils. (Ryan wanted to shout 'Liar' 'Liar') Keep watch for the signs. Unusual silences, unrestrained crying, hostility, and anger are usually evidence of abuse. It is up to you the fathers, you good Catholic fathers, to watch for signs of exploitation. If you can identify these mongrels, then whatever punishment you deliver will be upheld by the custodians of our laws. I have this guarantee from the Police Commissioner himself. (This was accompanied by a collective gasp)

Of course, we must speak directly to our youth, and I mean both girls and boys. If you're feeling uncomfortable with any so-called friendly advances from persons unknown to you, then you must report the miscreant to your parents, your headmaster, and the police . . .

Bullshit!

. . . Be brave! You are innocent in the eyes of God and will be thanked by our community by exposing these monsters."

For another five torturous minutes Father O'Brian rambled on until, thankfully, he finished. However, the mass itself was not finished. To follow was the Profession of Faith, Liturgy of the Eucharist, the Consecration, the Communion, and finally the Blessing and Dismissal. Ryan couldn't get out quickly enough.

He waited whilst his Nanna visited with old friends and gossiped about happenings during the week as well as articles in the Catholic Weekly. This gave him time to control his anger and disgust at the sermon.

He don't know nuthin! Gus never preyed on me, nor did he molest me as the old cunt suggested. Rather than bein' the horrible experience that shitface O'Brian bleated about, it was great. I enjoyed it and, truth be known, I want more. There's been whispers from his favourite altar boys that he tries to fondle them when they're getting' dressed. I sensed that some of the men were a bit uncomfortable with what he said about sex and marriage. If'n I didn't have Gus, maybe I might've been molested, but I can look after meself as most kids my age can. What scares the shit outta me is what he said about the cops and how they condone violence against people like me. That's scary!

"Come on Ryan, best we catch the bus home; I know your mum's got lunch waiting. Come on; snap out of it, you look far away."

As they waited for the bus, Merle suddenly asked,

"Ryan, has your father told you about the birds and the bees?"

"(Cheekily) No, but I know the birds fly around and drop seeds so that plants can grow all over. Bees make honey."

"(Sigh) now you know exactly what I'm talking about so there's no reason to be flippant."

"Well Nanna, why don't you simply ask do I know about sex? Why are you so embarrassed you have to talk silly?"

"Hrrummph! Don't be cheeky, when I was growing up, talking about procreation (Gawd, she can't even use the word sex) was not allowed. It certainly is frowned upon in the church. Anyway, you haven't answered my question. Has your father talked to you about . . . well, babies and such?"

"(Emphatically) no, of course not! He's mostly drunk when he's home, or if he's sober, he pisses off . . ."

"(Sigh) Ryan, language . . ."

"Sorry Nan, no, when he's home he gets outta mum's way and goes down the Garden Shed. I hardly see him, let alone talk to him. However, I do know where babies come from, how to take protection and not get a girl pregnant, about rape and being molested. That stupid old fart . . . ahh, sorry Nan . . . umm, Father O'Brian sounded real heavy with his preaching, and I don't agree with him."

"(Alarmed) what don't you agree?"

"(Indignant) when he said homos can be bashed and hurt and the police won't do nuthin. Especially when it's the coppers doin' the bashing and they can do it free like. That's wrong. (Angry) We'se all same peoples and nobody should be bashed just because they'se different. I'm really angry the church also says it's Ok. That's wrong."

Silence.

"Well, I've been taught the church knows best, so . . . are, here comes the bus. You should force your father to talk to you."

Oh yeah, so he's gonna tell me all about bein' a poofter. How to butt-fuck properly, don't use yer teeth when yer suckin' some bloke off, tongue kissin', and jerking off a big juicy cock. Of course, the various ways to masturbate would be interesting. Oh yeah, I can hear him now!

On the bus they sat side by side with Ryan occupying the window seat; the trip usually lasted twenty-five minutes. It wasn't very often that he and his Nanna were alone together; the truth is that she was the only person Ryan felt comfortable to talk about personal problems and issues.

"Nanna, why do my parents fight so much?"

This caught Merle off guard and she wasn't sure how to answer the lad. She tended to let family problems work themselves out, as they usually were resolved satisfactorily. To interfere was usually counterproductive but, in this case, she felt she owed the boy an answer; after all, the problem existed and was getting worse.

"(Sigh) I know Ryan, or I should say, I don't know why they're fighting. It's upsetting you isn't it?"

Pause.

"(On the verge of tears) Yes Nanna, it is. I feel I don't have parents anymore; I'm just boarding with two people who hate each other. My dad's (choke) always drunk or hiding himself away in his shed and me mum never stops nagging him and whinging about something. I often cry myself to sleep Nanna. I'm only a kid and don't know what to do."

"Oh, you poor child (she placed her arm around Ryan and drew him close). It's not fair on you grandson, because you shouldn't have to listen to the angry words at your age. Sure, all families fight, but your parents fight more than normal. I wish I had an answer for you."

"(Hopefully) Why don't they split up? That way I could at least have a chance at a relationship with each one without all the agro. None of me mates have parents that hate each other; they don't understand when I tell about the fights. I know I shouldn't talk about family problems, but sometimes I feel that if I don't talk to someone I'll go bonkers. Then there's this crap . . . sorry Nan . . . with the Cree's next door. Bert and I shouldn't be fighting because I think it has to do with the grown-ups - not us kids. I'm getting' sick of it all."

Merle leaned down and kissed her grandson's head. She sensed his pain and felt gutted. They rode in silence for a few bus stops. Then,

"Nan, yer not gonna die soon are ya?"

"What a question; no, of course not. Well, none of us knows, do we? God has a plan for each one of us and we just have to trust in him that he knows what he's doing. Why do you ask?"

"(Hugging his Grandmother tightly) because the happiest times I remember was when I were real little and would snuggle up to you in bed, whilst you read from that big book of Irish history. I loved that Nan, made me feel nice and secure. It were real good."

"(Choking back tears) you're a good boy Ryan, an especially good boy and I love you very, very much. (Pause, to control her emotions) I loved those times too. Pity times have to change; I mean you're too old now to cuddle in my bed. (Sigh) it was nice, wasn't it? I pray for you; did you know that? I ask the lord to make your life happier at home. When he gets around to it, I know he'll make it right. (Sigh) here comes our stop Ryan."

"(With an emotionally thick voice) no one's too old fer a cuddle Nan, not even you."

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5.4

Just as their Sunday lunch was finishing, the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Umm . . . Missus Seaton, it's Tomas Davis here; can I speak with Ryan, please."

"Yes of course, Tomas, it's good to hear from you, I hope you're enjoying the new school. Ryan is just loving . . ."

"Mum, it's for me, let me speak with Tommo (pause) . . . g'day mate, missed hearing from ya. Hope yer Ok."

"Hey Ryan, look I'll be quick, can I meet you at our spot at the dam this arvo, got some things I wanna talk about."

"Yeah, sure mate, how about (leaning over and looking at the kitchen clock) in about an hour. That'll be about two-thirty, how's that?"

"Will do, and thanks mate. I really want to talk t'ya. See you then." And rang off.

"You're not going anywhere until you help with the cleaning up young man. After I work my fingers to the bone cooking for you, and looking after you, at least I should expect a little . . ."

"Ahhh shut up mother. You heard me tell Tommo I'll meet him only after I do the dishes. Why d'yer have to moan when you heard me tell Tommo I've got to do the cleaning up?"

Clare Seaton just sat and looked wounded.

So around about two thirty on that Sunday, Ryan ambled over to the dam and met up with Tommo. Even for late autumn, the Dam looked beautiful. The sunlight danced over the surface and shattered into a thousand glittering shards as the wind ruffled the water's surface. For several long moments, they hugged each other without saying anything. Ryan sensed that his mate was troubled, as his cuddling seemed a bit desperate like he was clinging on in distress. When eventually they broke apart, Ryan looked at Tommo and saw he was on the verge of tears.

"Hey what's wrong boyo, ya don't look good, what's wrong?"

"Why don't we sit on this towel I brought with me? The sand's a bit damp and I don't wanna get our bums wet. (They sat down, and Tommo snuggled up to Ryan with their knees touching) Thanks for meeting me here. I got memories of last time when we became blood brothers, special memories mate that are real important t'me. The past few weeks ain't been real good but I kept thinking of you and I and our pact. Sorry for bein' a bit mushy."

"Hey, I only heard the other day that you were coming home. If'n I'd known when I woulda dropped around or at least called ya. Like it's the end of Term One holidays, so I didn't expect to see ya. Everything Ok?"

Silence. Tommo just gazed out at the water, whilst Ryan waited for him to answer. Then Tommo turned and looked Ryan straight in the face.

"It's all fucked up Ryan, I mean I'm all fucked up. I don't remember feelin' this miserable fer a long time. Worst still, I've made me parents unhappy, and that's like stick'n a knife into me guts. I've let then down bad mate, and there's nuthin' I can do about it - 'cept kill meself."

"Hey, fuck that! Don't you go talkin' like that! We're blood brothers Tommo, so don't be thinkin' such silly notions. We're here for each other, that's what blood brothers are for. C'mon knucklehead, what's the problem?"

For several moments, Tommo just stared out at the water. Ryan could sense an inner struggle but, wisely, decided to let Tommo express himself when he was ready. Then,

"I met a bloke about my age at the College and we became good friends. (Pause) . . . more than good friends . . . hell, let me say it . . . I'm . . . I'm a homo, Ryan, a bloody pathetic queer. We sorta became lovers . . ."

"(Softly) Hey man, that's a biggie. Wow, ummm, what d'yer mean, 'sorta'? Were you, or were you not? I mean . . . did you have sex?"

"Yes, yes, we did, that's if you could call it sex, since all we did was kiss and masturbate each other. Alfred (pause) . . . that's his name, Alfred wanted to go further but I hesitated because I hadn't had any experience I . . . I . . . chickened out. Then one night he asked to meet me late in the shower block. When I arrived, he coaxed me into a cubicle, kissed me, and then . . . and then . . . started to suck my cock. Oh god Ryan it was wonderful, I never knew such pleasure was possible, and then (pause), we were so engrossed we didn't hear a prefect come in and . . . found . . . (Choke)"

"Oh shit! He found you totally compromised, eh? (Tommo nodded miserably) Shit, what a bummer. So, what happened next? Get it all off yer chest boyo, you'll feel better."

"Oh, we were hauled up in front of the Headmaster who was a Christian nutter and forced to admit who we were, and what we were doing. I'm still ashamed, just thinking about it. As you can imagine by next morning the whole school knew, and we became pariahs. They locked us in our rooms, which was a blessing in disguise, as I was too ashamed to show my face. Then they called my Dad, and I had to endure listening to the same sordid story again. Of course, they expelled me and . . . and . . . well, here I am, not very pretty, eh?"

Ryan sat holding his mate in a tight embrace, disturbed by Tommo's story. His own thoughts were troubling.

What a terrible way for other people to learn yer most private secrets. I can understand why he wanted to rub himself out. Only a strong person could endure that terrible pain. It's up to me now, to make life a bit easy for me mate. I've got to fess up and be damned with the consequences. If I can't trust Tommo, then who can I trust?

"(Painfully) Tommo, yer not alone, there's someone you know who also likes blokes and hasn't had the courage to tell about it, because he's a coward. It's . . ."

'Who? Don't tell me Bluey's queer like me. I can't . . ."

"(Softly) Nah, not Bluey (Pause) it's me Tommo, yer blood brother Ryan . . . I'm also a bloody queer."

Tommo twisted himself around, so he could look directly at Ryan, a look of disbelief written over his face.

Silence, then,

"(Startled) you Ryan, you? (Long pause) you? Did I hear you right?"

"(Softly) Yep me; of course, I've known fer a long time. Remember I told ya I had a secret place in the bush that I'd come by meself, well, that's what I was doin', trying to work it all out. I still am."

"Shit-a-brick! I . . . I . . . don't know what to say; I'm stunned. (Quickly) Now don't get me wrong, I reckon its beaut us being blood brothers and being homo. Wow. I feel better knowing were both on the same side. Gee whiz! Who'd a thought?"

Should I tell him about Gus and the things we'se done together? Nah, I don't think so, some things are best left private. What Gus and me have is just between us two. Maybe later I'll tell Tommo, but not now.

"(Carefully) Yeah, but we've got problems, haven't we? Do ya think anyone will find out yer a homo at Manly Boy's High? I mean, I'm not ready to let the world know my secret. I have enough problems at home without adding that fer me bloody mother to whinge about. And gripe she will, I can hear her even now. Yer lucky Tommo, yer parents are decent folk."

"No, I don't think anyone will find out. I mean, there's no link between the Christian College and Manly Boy's high. How would they find out, after all, Albert's gone to another school. It's not as if I'm girly - am I?"

"(Laughing) nah, yer Ok Tommo, I wouldn't be a friend if'n ya acted queer. Nah, yer a bloke's bloke you are. Look, fer both our sake we'se gotta keep who we are a secret. You shoulda been at church this mornin' to hear that fat cunt rave on about us homo's."

"Why, what'd he say?"

"Reckons we'se sinners and real bad. He said we're a security risk and the cops should round us all up and bash us. He even went as far as telling everyone he wouldn't forgive their sins if'n they was in the confessional. Simply, we're to be condemned, put in prison, bashed up, and maybe killed. However, when he told the people that sex was only for getting' kids, there was a lot of resentment. Of course, he's a nutter, but many people think like him and really have it in fer us. That's why we'se gotta be careful boyo and not tell anyone."

"Yeah, I agree, I mean look what happened to me. The Headmaster sounded disgusted when he were telling Dad about what happened. I think, if I hadn't been locked away in my room, I woulda been belted by some of the kids. It was scary Ryan; I was worried. I dunno how it came to be so bad for us queers. Sure, there's a bit of venom in the Bible, but I never thought it would lead to real violence against us. My mum told me about the hate our world has for homos, and I've experienced it firsthand. Not good."

"Geez, I don't know whether I'm as brave as you are mate. I don't know how I'd cope if I got monstered like you did. It's just you and me kid, just you and me."

Ryan wanted to kiss Tommo, but it didn't seem right just now. He sensed that Tommo felt the same, so they just enjoyed snuggling up to each other, taking pleasure in the closeness and the warmth. However, he was thinking,

I must talk to Geoff and ask him to keep a lookout for Tommo at Manly Boy's High. The chances that someone will know about him being expelled are rare but, well, ya never knows. If it should get out . . . shit, it'll be a disaster for both of us. There again, can I trust Geoff? I reckon he's ok, but that moron of a brother isn't. Oh boy, what that shitface could do knowing about Tommo is scary. Funny, with Tommo I feel more friendship than sexy; I must ask Gus why that is.

So, Tommo began the second term at his new school Manly Boy’s High, and Ryan entered the second term at the Grammar School - both having celebrated their thirteen birthdays. Alas, whilst Social Networking can be good, it also can be dangerous.