Published: 15 Jun 2026

A possible change of abode;

Biff appears reluctant to continue past his old house. After a short pause and without speaking he reaches for the wire gate.

Quietly Biff opens the gate.

The old familiar squeak remains with the gate hinge although the gate no longer swings wildly on its support.

“What are you doing?” Grady whispers.

Without commenting Biff enters into the yard, he passes the new garden planting; there are lights burning in the living room and kitchen although no one appears in sight.

Soft music filters through the living room window.

Biff approaches the living room window holding to the shadows not to be discovered, the cracked pane of glass he damaged while playing ball with Grady so many years earlier has been replaced.

Biff pauses for a few seconds then returns closing the squeaking gate behind.

“Are you satisfied?”

“It has completely changed there isn’t any evidence Ron and I ever lived here, even the living room has been repainted.”

“What would you expect; the house was quite run down and I don’t think anyone could live with that two tone job you did on your bedroom wall.”

“If I recollect correctly you helped me.”

“I did – didn’t I?”

“And Ron blew a fuse saying that was the end of the bond money.”

“Did you get the bond back?”

“I did, there is one thing about Ken Wright he was a fair man.”

Biff releases a soft sigh;

“Come on lets go home,” Grady encourages.

“Don’t you want to know what it is between Brownie and me?”

“I have asked a dozen times so; I am deciding to leave it be.”

There is a small children’s playground at the corner of Borland and Rankin Streets, in passing Biff takes a detour and sits on one of the double swings.

Grady takes the other;

From the corner a street light casts their shadows across a sand pit strategically placed to make falls less harmful for children.

“We played here when we were kids,” Biff recalls.

“We did and you broke your arm on that swing.”

“Well broke is a little exaggerated although it was worth the sympathy and my arm was rather swollen and bruised.”

Biff commences to swing, higher and higher until his size and power is too much for the aging swing’s framing and it begins to shudder.

Biff allows the swing to lose its motion;

“Yes Grady there is bad blood between Brownie and me.”

“I will for the last time ask why.”

“Brownie and I were as you like to say at it for a while.”

“Do you mean you had sex with Mick?” Grady questions in disbelief.

“For a while but we were too young for it to be anything but horseplay, you know the score, I’ll show you mine if you show yours. Well that’s all it was for me, Brownie thought different and still does.”

“I would never believe Brownie was that way?”

“A poof?”

“That’s one of the words used.”

“Yes he was a poof alright and still is. Why do you think Colin Davis hangs around with him?”

“I thought Colin was an out of town cousin.”

“Cousin is a smoke screen they are no more related than you and -”

Biff falters and recommences a gentle swinging, his feet pushing from the ground with the motion;

“I was going to say as related as you and me but that may not be so.”

“You do have doubts on our relationship.”

“I will say part of me wishes it is true.”

“You have mentioned Bruce Menzies is involved somehow.”

“We were young and silly.”

“You say we.”

“Do you remember a lad called Jeff Hogan?”

“Sort off, he was Brownie’s sidekick for a while and left town about the same time as Bruce Menzies.”

“Do you remember another named Robert Ingles?”

“The name is familiar, didn’t he also leave town about the same time?”

“He did.”

“What happened?”

It was late summer, Jeff Hogan, Robert Ingles, Bruce Menzies and me, not forgetting Brownie were swimming naked at the Granite and jumping off the rail bridge into the deep pool below when Michael Brown got a little frisky. Brownie took hold of Bruce then dragged him into some scrub near the old causeway across the Granite, mind you young Bruce was more than willing only he got more than he bargained. Brownie held Bruce down while Jeff Hogan fucked him. It only took a few seconds then the others took their turn.

Biff laughs;

“What’s making you laugh?”

“Bum-jumping, that’s what Brownie called it.”

“I’ve hear that one.”

“Well the others quickly had their turn then it was Brownie’s turn. Biff you’re next Brownie grunted as he slammed it in, by now Bruce is crying for him to stop.”

“That’s rape; did you join in?”

“I walked away leaving the poor kid to his torment. It appeared Brownie was so rough Bruce was bleeding.”

“Did Bruce report it?”

“Because of the bleeding he had no other choice and Brownie was questioned but his old man’s money buried the affair. Bruce’s parents were so embarrassed by the ordeal they left town, shortly after the Hogan and Ingles families also left town.”

“Why has Bruce returned?”

“That is a good question possible he is attracted to Brownie, I read somewhere of cases where women who have been raped sometimes fall in love with the man who raped them. If I recollect correctly the article called it the Stockholm Syndrome.”

“If you didn’t join in why should you feel guilty?”

“As I left I could hear Bruce crying and later when questioned I lied for Brownie.”

“You were only a kid yourself Biff.”

“Maybe but I knew it was wrong and these days I think Bruce’s pleasantness towards me is a reminder of how I walked away.”

Biff gives a gentle swing as he seems to drift into the night.

“What are you thinking?” Grady asks.

“The world is changing and I have no control over it.”

“I’ve always thought of you as the strongest of us all. You always appear confident and positive.”

“It is easy to be positive when you feel secure but with all what has happened over the past month or so it doesn’t lend to being positive. Most of what you see in me Grady is a front I hide behind and under it all I’m no different from the rest of the gang.”

“Is being a father worrying you?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

Biff stands and takes Grady’s hand, “follow me,” he leads Grady to the side of the playground where there is a thicket of shrubs along Ken Fields’ fence line. It is a tall fence designed to hold a large and angry dog. Along the top of the fence are three long strands of barbed wire, designed to keep the kids from raiding Fields’ fruit trees, as if the dog with the loud bark and large teeth wouldn’t do the trick.

The dog commences to bark;

“Be quiet Sampson,” Biff whispers through a small hole in the timber panelling as the demanding voice of Ken Fields’ calls from the rear door for quiet.

The dog gives a final woof then goes silent.

Reaching the security of the undergrowth away from the dull street light Biff turns Grady to face him, placing his hands gently about Grady’s head Biff kisses him on the lips.

Grady pulls away;

“Sorry I shouldn’t have done that,” Biff apologises.

“Don’t apologise, I was caught by surprise that’s all.”

“Grady I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were in sixth grade and now it’s done. Badly maybe but at least it’s done.

“Then do it again, this time slowly.”

Biff obliges, slowly their lips meet as Biff lowers his hand.

“You sure are ready.”

“I’ve had a woody since our conversation the other night on Palm Cove.”

Biff takes Grady’s hand and strategically places it;

“You’re not alone there.”

Relationships can be tricky at the best of time, even more so when needing to be accomplished with secrecy. Living at the Dowie house and seeing Grady morning and night without contact was beginning to take tole on Biff. Without sharing his thought Biff commenced to find someplace where he could have privacy but in a small town with the tobacco harvesting in progress there wasn’t a great deal of choice. So for now the boys’ clandestine meetings were accomplished in the utility’s cabin during dark nights and far as possible from town, with promises sooner or later they would make amends to the discomfort.

Friday night with the boy’s regular association at the Royal there is a surprise, Michael Brown is back from his army medical and not looking too pleased about the result, also for once he isn’t as flashy with the free beer.

For a time Brownie’s sedentary was allowed to mellow but boys being boys eventually the subject would rise.

“You are on the quiet side tonight Mick?” Barry Jones suggests as he comes from the bar with his turn for the drinks.

“I’m just contemplating, Bazza,” Brownie is always one for using odd words to describe a situation, quite often uttered to divert others from a question or taunt.

“Is that what it is called?” Barry mockingly says.

Biff is laughing as he gives Barry a gentle nudge;

“Haven’t you heard, Bazza?”

Barry had heard, as had they all but for once collectively the group is playing a game with Brownie.

“No Biff what haven’t I heard?”

“Brownie failed his medical.”

On a rare occasion Brownie’s head lowers from teasing eyes.

“Why would Brownie fail his medical, Biff?”

“Don’t rightly know, possibly Brownie has flat feet.”

“Surely that is no longer a reason to fail an army medical, Biff?”

Brownie lifts his head towards the banter;

“Alright you lot; Brownie failed his medical, so what?”

Biff isn’t prepared to let go of a good chance;

“Why did you fail your medical, Brownie?” Biff asks.

“They didn’t say.”

In truth they did say as the medical wasn’t a simply health check, it was also a test of character for soundness of mind. Although the army could ill afford to reject a single conscript, Michael Brown was declared unsound of mind believing he would be a distraction towards his fellow conscripts, saying to kill the enemy in battle may be considered proper but Michael’s gung-ho attitude could have an entire platoon whipped out, therefore deliberating no amount of training would turn such a troubled soul into a well honed soldier. A second reason and possibly more to point being Michael Brown’s father had influence in high places.

“So it’s back to leaching off daddy’s charity Brownie?” Biff harshly suggests.

“I’ve got a job Biff.”

“Working as odd-body for your old man isn’t true work Brownie,” Biff says.

“Dad wants me to manage the hotel.”

“You would drink the pub dry within a month.” Biff suggests while enjoying having the reach on Browning for a change.

“Come on, I think Brownie’s had enough ribbing for one night,” Barry recommends.

“Yes Brownie’s had enough ribbing,” Michael Brown concurs, “my shout for the drinks I would reckon.”

“Yes seeing we have been paying for them tonight, it’s about time you put your hand in pocket Mick,” Wayne Nelson suggests.

“That’s another thing; the old man said I’m giving away too much grog.”

“And he asked you to run the hotel, Brownie wouldn’t that be like putting the fox in charge of the hen house?”

“You got it in one Nelson,” Biff says.

Within the time of a wink Brownie is once again back into character, it is as if failing his medical was nothing more than a tic’ in life and what did it matter, he had his mates to impress and his suggested cousin, young Colin Davis to gloat after him, realising he would never find anything better with the army.

With Christmas approaching and no David at the Dowie residence to arrange a holiday at the beach house, it would be a quiet time at home. For Lewis it had been his last school year and unknown to the others he had accepted his father’s offer of employment also with the coming year Robyn would be attending high school. As for Biff and Grady they remained in their clandestine relationship which was becoming most difficult to hide as now even Robyn was noticing changes in the boys, as for Lewis he found much pleasure in discovering anything he could hold over his older brother.

Grady had become content with the arrangements although he would prefer more private time with Biff but Biff realised his residence at the Dowie house was never anything but temperate and at every chance he looked for new digs that would be more than renting a room where visitors are restricted. Biff first suggestion was he and Grady could travel, possibly find work down the coast but Grady had his apprenticeship to consider as the coming year would be his last tied to Jack Byrne.

Opportunity arrives while Biff is having a rare visit with Trish and baby Adam. As Trish’s parents didn’t think kindly towards Biff, even if Trish hadn’t totally admitted to them who Adam’s father may be, they had their suspicions, believing Brian Bastian wasn’t of character to bring up a child, therefore his visits to the house were kept secret to times when Trish is alone.

“Adam has your eyes,” Trish suggests while Biff gives the child a cuddle in his arms.

“Do you think so?”

“Others do as well.”

Biff feeling clumsiness with such a small and delicate package quickly returns Adam to his mother.

“Have you told anyone?”

Trish puts Adam down to rest;

“I haven’t told anyone except you, although many think they know and love to say Adam looks like you.”

“What about your parents?”

“They have their suspicions although I’ve only hinted and they filled in the blanks.”

“Does Helen know?”

“Not in as many words; I would say she does. Why do you ask?”

“It seems she tells Lewis everything.”

“Oh! Then I should be careful with what I tell her. What about Grady, did you eventually tell him?”

“Of course.”

“It must be difficult with you living there.”

Biff laughs;

“To say the least, worse of all Lewis keeps making suggestions. That kid is much too smart for his own good and I think Karen suspects something has changed but doesn’t say anything.”

“What about David?”

“He doesn’t visit anymore.”

Trish becomes serious;

“Lewis told Helen his dad thinks Grady isn’t his son, it appears David suggested it to him.”

“I’ve often heard that one,” Biff says.

“David thinks Grady is Ron’s therefore you and Grady would be half brothers.”

Biff releases a low chortle;

“I’ve also heard that one.”

“Is it true?”

A sigh;

“I very much doubt, mostly it is David’s paranoia and the disdain he held towards Ron even beyond Ron’s demise. They had a falling out many years earlier, I believe David stole Karen away from Ron when they were working on a cattle property, but the more I dwell on it, Grady could be Ron’s.”

“Were Karen and Ron going steady back then?”

“It appears Ron had designs towards Karen but was a little shy to approach her, he told David his intention and David being the envious type beet Ron to pop the question.”

“So they,” Trish falters then continues; “you know what I’m trying to say, did Ron and Karen bed their relationship?”

“According to Ron no even so Ron was always protective of Karen, so he wouldn’t say anything that may damage her reputation.”

“Anyway, it’s getting late and mum and dad will be home soon.”

“I get the hint. Do you need anything for Adam?”

Trish rises to show Biff out;

“No thank you besides you bringing gifts may appear a little suggestive.”

Reaching the door Trish has a thought.

“I hear you are looking for somewhere to live?”

“I will be sooner or later; under the circumstance more than likely it will be sooner.”

“Do you know Ross Linton who has that big house at the top end of Atherton Street?

“I’ve seen him about, why?”

“He’s been alone since his wife died; now his brother is unwell down at Balgal Beach, Ross needs someone he can trust to do a little house sitting for a few months while he is away. Possibly you could house sit for him.”

“Would he trust me?”

“I know Ross well; I could suggest you to him.”

No sooner had Trish spoken car lights are shining along the driveway.

“Dad’s back – quickly.”

“I’m outa’ here – please ask Ross for me.”

Before the car lights strike Biff he is like a rabbit and behind a row of hedging leading onto the street.

Being caught in the headlights Trish goes to meet the car.

“Is everything alright dear?”

“Yes mum, I thought I heard something outside so I was investigating, it was only the Morrison’s old cat fighting with some stray down the side of the house.

Margaret Baker isn’t convinced making comment as Ray garages the car.

“I thought I saw someone,” Margaret suggests.

“Possibly it was only shadows in the lights,” Trish suggests.

Ray returns.

“Did you see anyone love?” she asks her husband.

They go inside and Margaret soon puts aside her concern of someone sneaking about the yard as she reports how their bridge night ended badly when the Jenkins’ house blew an electric fuse leaving them in darkness.

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

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