Published: 12 Jan 2026

Saturday afternoon

The game had been played and lost with the local team going down by a field goal in the closing minute, the loss being the third defeat in a row, the sixth for the season.

“A hat-trick of losses,” Biff declares as they departed the field towards the changing rooms. His statement is followed by a suggestion he and Grady should join the other side as it was obvious they were all that saved the team from losing its position in the Tableland League.

“We should win the next game,” Grady hopefully projects as they enter into the team dressing room although by the level of banter from their team mates it could be forgiven in believing they had won the day.

“You reckon so?” Biff discredits as he roughly dumps his kit bag down on a long bench besides the shower recess.

“We have a good chance I should think.”

“The next game is against Walkamin and they have Larry Watkinson back from injury.”

Grady shrugs away concern;

“Oh well then it is second division for us next year.”

“Not for me, I think I’ll give it a miss and concentrate on my cricket, I have a little problem against leg-break bowling.” Biff often threatened to give the game away but at the start of every season, since they were in the little league, there he is leading the pack as good as his ability would allow.

Grady smirks;

“The way we’ve been travelling since winning the pennant three seasons ago we should all give back our tatts.”

“Yes it was a silly thing to do, why did we agree with Brownie.”

“Being drunk I suppose.”

“Being drunk wasn’t an excuse to listen to a drongo like Mick Brown and I won’t repeat what Ron had to say about it.”

“You told you’re dad?”

“I didn’t have to as he knows most of the team.”

“Fortunately dad doesn’t show interest in the club, something to do with being dropped from the team when he was our age.”

“Yes Ron has mentioned that incident.”

The dressing room is hot and steamy, smelling of sweaty socks and liniment oil. There are two shower stalls Tubby Blake is in one and the new recruit Wayne Nelson is in the other. The rest of the team are in various stages of dressing or waiting for the showers to free-up.

Someone is splashing on old spice aftershave.

“Who is the flaming girl,” Luke Bevin calls across the room.

They all laugh.

Someone shouts from the lockers;

“It’s Ian Walsh; he bathes in the fucken’ stuff and stinks worse than a whore in a brothel.

Another retorts;

“And Lenny, you’d know all about that.”

Tubby Blake is laughing;

“Hey Brownie you didn’t piss in his aftershave bottle again.”

Michael Brown mumbles an inaudible answer while remembering the strife that little prank had caused.

More laughter;

Ian approaches Tubby and flicks him on the arse with the roll of his towel.

Tubby responds, “fuck off!” He steps out of the shower and commences to dry, “hey Greedy you did real good today,” Tubby complements.

Sean O’Donnell takes Tubby’s place in the shower with Biff now in the other.

Grady remains in his football gear as he waits for the showers.

Biff is vigorously soaping his private parts, steam lifts from his shoulders like that from a boiling pot.

Grady questions Tubby; “what do you mean by good?”

“Without your and Biff’s input we wouldn’t have been as close as we were. One minute more and we would have won. Yes I repeat you did a good job.”

“More like one minute less as they only won by a field goal just before the siren sounded,” Luke Bevin discredits.

“Good be buggered I was brilliant,” Grady self appraises.

It is now Grady realises his eyes are fixed on Biff’s back and the soapy flow down towards the well developed ridges of his backside; he blushes and consciously kills his gaze as Biff rinses off and reaches for his towel.

It is Michael Brown’s turn for the shower, Sean O’Donnell remains in the other, “are you still rooting Colleen Roberts?” Brown asks O’Donnell.

“What’s it to you Brownie?”

“If you’re not I thought I’d look her up” Brownie’s eyes are on O’Donnell’s small appendage, truthfully Brownie is what is called a watcher, possibly he likes to check his mates out to boost his ego.

“Now Mick what would a well stacked bird like Colleen Roberts want with a bloke like you.”

“I thought she may like to swing on something substantial for a change.”

“The trouble with you Mick, the size of your dick is bigger in your head than it is in your pants.”

They all laugh;

Tubby Blake makes a whooping’ sound.

“Hey Biff.” Grady calls as his friend commences dressing.

“What-o’?”

“I’m off; I’ll have a shower at home.”

“Aren’t you going to the pub later?”

“Na’ I’ll give it a miss, too much booze gives me a crook gut.”

“Woose,” Ian Walsh accuses more as retaliation towards the slant on his usage of aftershave.

Grady hesitates, without realisation his eyes remain fixed on Biff’s arse as his friend bends to pull up his underwear.

Biff turns about and the gaze deflects.

Michael Brown is standing full frontal before Grady as he vigorously dries his hair. It is obvious he needs a haircut but Michael Brown, Brownie to his mates, was always at odds with convention, he has a curious nature something like a revolving door as after any conversation it appears although he went in behind you he comes out a little ahead.

As Brown dries his hair his appendage sways and appears to lengthen.

He wraps the towel about his waist as he reaches from his shorts.

He gives Grady a smile and moves away.

‘Mick did that on purpose,’ Grady thinks.

‘It’s Strange.’

‘Place a group of young men together and you would be forgiven in thinking they were latent homosexuals.’

‘I’ve always thought Brownie to be a little bent.’

‘He appears to fondle with his eyes.’

Grady delays his departure then becomes conscious his vision remains on Buff’s arse, as the cut of his pants neatly fold into the crack between his buttocks. Grady has a thought; it comes from deep down without surfacing in language, it is more a feeling than words but whatever it may have been, it frightens him.

Grady quickly deflects to the faded green paint of the shower room floor.

Biff finishes dressing as Grady collects his gear;

They depart together;

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Biff asks.

“I haven’t though that far ahead – why?”

“What about a drive up to the lakes?”

“Is you car running?”

“Yea,” Biff didn’t appear confident then again he was never mechanically minded; besides he would have Grady along to handle any breakdown.

“Who’s going?”

“Just you and me, I’m having a little trouble with the car and need to give it a long run.”

“I’ll have to give it a miss my time is already promised;”

“Then maybe another time.”

“I almost forgot, mum said as she hadn’t seen you in a while, come to dinner next Sunday.”

There is caution in Biff’s tone;

“Will your old man be home?”

“No he will be away on business and you can bring Trish if you like.”

“It will be okay for me, I’ll see what Trish thinks and I’ll give you a bell tomorrow.”

Arriving home Grady discovers the front gate wide open. Jenny the Kelpie bitch comes to meet him but Marshie isn’t to be seen.

“Hello girl, where’s your mate?”

Grady releases a loud whistle while searching about, he calls Marshie’s name but there isn’t any response.

Closing the gate he goes inside.

Karen is in the kitchen preparing the evening meal with Robyn and Lewis in the lounge.

Robyn is doing homework.

At the doorway between the two rooms Grady pauses and speaks;

“Who was last through the front gate?”

Both Lewis and Robyn appeared quizzical;

Eventually it is Lewis who responds;

“I suppose it was me; that is if dad hasn’t already gone out.”

Karen calls from the kitchen;

“Your father has been in the shed for most of the afternoon.”

“Then Greedy it would have been me – so?” Lewis indolently admits.

“You left the gate open and Marshie has cleared out.”

“He’ll come back when he’s hungry, he always does,” Lewis suggests.

“Yea and with the Morrison’s bitch on heat you can guess what the outcome will be.”

“Lucky dog,” Lewis says as he heads out of the room.

“Where do you think you are going young man,” Karen demands as Lewis advances towards the door.

“Nowhere important.”

“You better go and find Marshie, or you’ll have your father to answer to.”

Robyn is grinning as any eleven year old sister would when an older brother is in strife.

Lewis gives Robyn the bird.

“Mum Lewis is making rude fingers at me.”

Karen ignores her daughter’s plight.

“I’ll come with you, “Grady offers, “I want to speak with you about something anyway.”

Grady dumps in sports bag onto the kitchen floor.

“Your bag Grady, don’t just leave it where someone will trip over it.”

Grady foots the bag towards the wall and departs with Lewis.

On reaching the Morrison property they discover Marshie on the outer of a wire fence with the Morrison’s bitch well protected in a pen used whenever the prize poodle goes to heat.

Both dog and bitch appear more than willing as Marshie commences to dig his way into the pen. Grady calls the dog but the digging increases as Lewis approaches with a leash; even so it is a struggle to contain the dog’s enthusiasm.

Returning home Lewis becomes animated.

“What’s got you excited Lewis?”

“I found dad’s stash.”

“Stash of what?”

“His porn’ magazines.”

“I hope you left them as you found them.”

“I think so. You were right they are hot.”

“And illegal you can get yourself in big strife for having that sort of thing.”

“Where would dad get them from?”

“Dunno’ although I can guess.”

“Who?” Lewis asks.

“Never mind who, just leave them alone or you will get yourself into trouble with dad.”

“You said you wanted to ask me something?”

“Yes, I do.”

The brothers reach home and force Marshie back inside the gate, immediately the dog is looking for an escape.

Grady puts Marshie on the chain.

“I wanted to ask if you’ve heard anymore about Bruce Menzies being back in town.” Grady asks.

“Nope, only his Grandmother recently died and he is to inherit her old house up on Quill Street. Why are you interested in Menzies?”

“I’m not interested, Biff asked me about him.”

“Were they mates?’

“Not that I can recall.”

Grady is smiling;

“Is there more to tell Grady?”

“Just something I had all but forgotten.”

“Out with it.”

“Biff said Menzies would poke his dick out of the leg of his shorts in the school yard during recess and pretend to measure it.”

“The dirty little bugger – what else did he do?”

“That’s about the most of it, what rumours did you hear?”

Lewis is silent and Grady knows better than to push too hard as coercing never worked with his brother.

“Well I’ll be listening when you’re ready.”

“It don’t matter, it’s probably a lot of bullshit anyway.”

Inside and dinner is about to be served. Lewis returns to the living room and plonks his rear down, collecting a comic he had been reading earlier.

“Hey,” Karen calls as she finishes setting the meal table.

“Hey what?” Lewis discourteously answers.

“Didn’t I just say I’m about to dish up dinner?”

“I guess you did – sorry.”

Lewis, go and let your father know dinner is ready.”

“I’ll go,” Grady agrees.

It takes time to locate David, eventually he is found in the shed sorting through some old tools belonging to old man Dowie that had been promised to one of David’s colleagues and in contradiction to David’s character had been offered without remuneration. Knowing David’s character there would be some kickback at a later time.

“Dad, mum said dinner is ready.”

“How was the game?” David asks as he places the last of the offered tools into a large cardboard box carefully securing the flaps with a length of adhesive tape.

“We lost again. It was on the radio, didn’t you listen?”

“I did for a while before turning it off during the second half, you are a pack of pussies and from what I hear that mate of yours doesn’t put in the training.”

“Biff is our best player.”

“Bastian has always been a bad influence on you ever since prep school. It is my opinion he was the influence that stopped you from further advancing your education.”

Grady is silent; how could he answer such a question, especially as part of what his father suggested in true, he did turn down the opportunity for university to remain close to Biff, although the greater part being his love of anything mechanical and his disinterest in jotting down columns of figures to simply see how they equate.

“Whatever,” Grady replies so softly it is doubtful David had heard.

“Is Bastian still working with his old man at the mill?”

“He is.”

David diverts the conversation;

“Have you or your brother been fooling about in here?”

“No – why?”

David is obviously fishing;

‘It’s his flaming porn,’ Grady thinks.

‘Should I own up so the silly little bugger doesn’t cop a slapping?’

It is now Grady who is fishing;

“Why is there something missing?”

“Never mind.”

David gives a nod towards the shed door.

Grady follows;

Once outside David does something he hadn’t done before, he padlocks the shed door.

“Dad, why did you lock the shed?”

“A number of properties in the area have been broken into lately, so you can never be too careful; there is a lot of valuable stuff in there.”

“Like what?”

“Your grandfather’s old motor bike for starters, I’ve been offered good money for it.”

“It doesn’t run.” Grady says.

“Not since you tried to fix it.

“Dad, I was only twelve at the time, besides much of it was missing even before I tinkered with it.”

“That’s you problem boy, you think you are a better mechanic than you actually are, you would be better off with something academic, there’s no money in being a grease-monkey.”

“What happens if I need the motor mower?”

“You’ve got a tongue boy; you can ask me for the key.”

While approaching the rear door it becomes obvious David has more advice for his son.

“I hear Bruce Menzies is back in town.”

“I believe so.”

“I don’t want you or Lewis associating with him.”

“Dad, I believe he has inherited his grandmother’s house and he was never a mate, besides I am almost twenty and don’t need to be told who I can associate with.”

“While you are under my roof you will.”

Grady hasn’t finished.

“As I said I don’t actually know Bruce Menzies and no one seems to know what he has done.”

They enter inside with David going to the bathroom to wash-up for dinner, he is obviously in a mood, possibly from suspicion someone has been tampering in the shed.

“What’s upset your father?” Karen asks as she places a large charger of roasted vegetables onto the table.

“Who knows, it doesn’t take much at the best of times to set him going.”

Lewis snitches a baked potato.

“Lewis there is only enough to go around, so that will be one less on your plate.”

Grady whispers to Lewis.

“The old man knows.”

“What does he know?”

“That you’ve been at his porn collection and he’s put a padlock on the shed door.

Lewis grins;

“And I thought I was being so careful.”

Another close whisper from Grady to his brother;

“You probably stuck the pages while flogging your dick.”

“Fuck off.”

Karen’s head lifts, she frowns but doesn’t respond.

Late evening, David and Karen are resting in the living room although a chair’s distance may as well been a chasm. Robyn is at their feet with coloured pencils and a colouring book. Lewis had gone to his room to be away from his father’s suspicion about tampering with his magazines. That leaves Grady close by contemplating if he should take a walk, or possibly telephone his friend Biff about the following Sunday’s meal.

He decides to do nothing.

Karen appears fidgety, she is watching Robyn’s with her colouring; she stretches and speaks;

“Robyn sweetie, it’s your bedtime.”

“Oh mum, just a little while longer.”

“Let her be Karen,” David says; placing his newspaper aside he goes to the drinks cabinet and pours a large scotch – no ice.

Karen lifts her empty drink glass and shakes it towards David without speaking.

“Scotch?” David offers.

“You know I don’t like scotch.”

“David tiffs and pours a gin and tonic while purposely short-changing the gin, “there you go,” he places the glass on the coffee table close to Karen then returns to his newspaper.

Karen ignores David’s request to allow Robyn more time.

“Off you pop pet, I’ll be along in a while to tuck you in.”

Robyn grumbles but does Karen’s bidding.”

Occasionally David lifts his eyes from the weekend news, while enjoying his malt scotch. It is obvious he is thinking and his thoughts relate to Grady.

‘I believe I should be gone,’ Grady surmises and half lifts his arse from his chair.

“Your mother and I will be going to the beach house at Flying Fish Point for a week or so during the school holidays.”

Karen gives David a glance as if to say, that is the first I’ve heard of it.

“Okay, will Lewis and Robyn be going with you?”

“They will be, so it is your job to look after the house while we are away.”

“I can do that.”

Karen gives a half-hearted smile without commenting on the trip, she looks towards the mantle clock and stands, “Dishes,” she lethargically says.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Grady offers to be away from his father’s surveillance.

“No need, they are almost done, there are only a couple of pots I left soaking; I’ll say goodnight to Robyn and be off myself.”

“Then goodnight.”

“Yes goodnight Grady.”

There is no further greeting between David and Karen.

Once alone David starts;

“I recall the last time you were left to mind the house and the party you threw when someone burned a hole in the couch with a cigarette and spilt beer over the new carpet.”

“That was yonks’ ago dad, I’m surprised you remember.”

David appears to be studying Grady.

‘I know that look.’

‘I’m in for it.’

David gives a teasing grin;

“Have you got yourself a sweetheart yet?”

“Sweetheart,” Grady is mockingly laughing.

“Don’t quibble over the word boy, you know what I mean.”

“I’m not seeing anyone at the moment but have irons in the fire – why do you ask?”

“Your mother would like grandchildren before she is too old to enjoy them.”

“Dad, would you like little rug-rats crapping on your shagpile and breaking mum’s collectables?”

“You’re mother was asking.”

‘That is typical blame mum you never commit yourself to anything.’ Grady thinks.

“I’m working on it,” Grady cheekily replies.

“Your Cousin Tony is marring Leanne in the spring and he is almost three years younger than you.”

“There is a difference dad.”

“What would that be?”

“It’s a shotgun wedding and I know how to use a condom.”

“Then you are active?”

“Leave it off dad, that’s not the sort of conversation I’m prepared to have, especially with my father.”

“Huh.”

‘I don’t like the sound of that huff; I think there is more to come.’ Grady assumes.

And there is;

“I hope you are not a fag’.”

“Dad!”

“Well I had to ask as it has been suggested down at the club.”

“With that kind of remark, I’ll leave you to your scotch.”

David has a satisfying grin;

Grady says goodnight and departs company believing David’s comment on his sexuality was more for effect than belief, although it is well known David is not only a raciest but homophobic, suggesting anyone without a ring on their finger by the time they reach twenty must be either butt-ugly or gay.

David is smiling as he returns to the paper’s financial section, wishing he had bought shares in Mr. Isa Copper when they were less than half their current value. Instead David had invested in Palmer River Gold becoming worthless with a suggestion the script could be used to wallpaper the shithouse wall.

En route to his room Grady passes his brother’s room, he knocks and enters;

“Whatya’ upta’,” Grady asks.

“Nothing, I was wondering how the old man knew I’d been at his magazines, I was so careful remembering how he left them.

“As I said you probably got excited and glued some of the pages together.”

“Funny boy.”

“Do you know what you will be doing over the school holidays?”

“Kicking about with Tug, we’ve arranged to hook up with a couple of chicks from our class and Tug’s mate Tim Finch has a car, so we may go up to the lakes.”

“I don’t think so.”

“And why not?”

The old man has arranged for you and Robyn to go with them to the beach house down at Flying Fish Point.”

“Fuck!”

Grady is enjoying his brother’s annoyance;

“It could be fun,” Grady teasingly suggests.

“The house is next to a park that’s always full of old grey hair nomads with caravans and snappy little lapdogs.”

“Oh well – your problem kid.”

“How can I get out of going?”

“As I said it’s your prob’ brother, as for me I’ll have the house to myself for a change.

“Party time,” Lewis suggests.

“Not likely not after the last time, besides I have other problems with the old man, he’s carrying on about me marrying so mum can have grandkids.”

It’s Lewis’ turn and he is quick with the banter;

“Come to think of it Greedy, I’ve never seen you with a chick.”

“Have you got a girlfriend Lewis?”

“I have but I would never bring her home to meet dad.”

“There is your answer,” Grady pauses with David’s words echoing in his head, “are you active at your age?”

“That would be telling.”

“You do know what a condom is?”

“I do.”

“I hope so; you wouldn’t want to end up like our cousin Tony.”

Obviously that is one piece of information the family hadn’t shared with Lewis.

“What about Tony?

“He has just turned seventeen and marrying in late spring and if he doesn’t marry Leanne soon, she will have a belly as she walks down the church aisle.”

“At least he will get out of living at home.”

“I doubt it, Leanne’s parents don’t want them living with them, so they will be living with Aunt Jill and Uncle Harry.”

“Why get married at all,” Lewis suggests.

“As he’s put her up the duff he has to make an honest woman out of her.”

Lewis is grinning;

“I wouldn’t.”

“No Lewis, I believe you wouldn’t.”

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

1,070 views