Published: 26 Jul 2021

Greg arrived at the Brown’s residence with the morning sun and as a sweetener brought in the milk and newspaper from the gate.

Margaret Brown met him at the door with an air of urgency.

“Greg Stanley what time of the day do you call this?”

“Sparrow’s-fart Mrs. Brown,” he boldly answered softly smiling his attempt at charm.

“Travis is still in bed and I’m about to go to the shop.”

Margaret wished to tick off Greg’s rudeness but being a Stanley expected nothing more. She paused a moment and thought how such a rude young man could have such a handsome, innocent face. She thought of Frank his father and of his pleasant features disguising such bold attitude, but as quickly she allowed the thought to pass, as the pressure of that day’s work too precedence.

“Then I’ll go through and wake him.”

“Tell Travis he will have to make his own breakfast this morning,” Margaret showed the lad in and hurried away in preparation to depart.

From the door she called back, “tell Travis I’m leaving and I would like to see him at the shop once he’s had breakfast.”

“Right you are Mrs. B.”

Margaret huffed in displeasure as she closed the door.

“Knock-nock,” Greg says and entered into Travis’ room without invitation; “are you awake?”

“I am now, what’s up. You don’t usually come around so early.”

“I had to get out the old man’s gone loopy.”

“Where’s mum?” Travis asks, yawning and stretching the sleep from his shoulders, “new shirt?”

“No, I found the iron, Mrs. B. just left and said for you to make your own breakfast and she wants to see you in the shop after.”

“I wouldn’t call her that if you want impress mum.”

“I did, I know how to sweeten old ladies.” Greg confidently assured.

“Huh,” Travis expressed.

“What was that for?”

“Last night,”

“Yes and I’m not pleased with you Travis, I thought you were a mate.”

Greg threw his weight across Travis’ legs and pinched his toes through the bedding.

“Don’t do that it hurts,”

Travis moved away.

Greg paused his pinching but remained across the bed.

“That what you did to Raelene was rape,”

“She asked for it,” Greg says and leaned on an elbow while gently pulling back Travis’ bedding, more to distract Travis from where their conversation was heading.

“Get off my legs you’re heavy,” Travis growled.

Greg laughed and sat up.

“I didn’t hear her ask,” Travis says.

“She didn’t say no either, did she?”

“What you did was nothing but acting like an animal.”

Greg simply grinned at Travis’ remark.

“Well Greg it was,”

“You do know what separates people from animals?”

“Nothing in the main,”

“No, we are the only animal that doesn’t wash our balls with our tongue.”

“Funny boy, I reckon if you could reach you would,”

“It could be fun,” Greg imagined; his eyes turned towards a trophy Travis won during that year’s final sports day. It was for the one hundred yards open foot race, with Greg a close second, his prize but a red ribbon which he discarded soon after. Greg thought it should have been his prize as during a previous event he had trounced Travis by a good two yards. Now Travis not only possessed the trophy but also the division’s record that had been Greg’s for the previous two years.

The sight of the trophy burnt deep into Greg’s pride. He quickly turned away.

“As I said I didn’t hear her agree for the others,” Travis discredited reflecting back to the problem in hand.

“It was arranged,” Greg protested with anger at being questioned.

“It was arranged between yourself and Raelene, not the rest of us and she didn’t agree to that.”

“Well it’s done now and can’t be undone,” Greg growled towards Travis’ continuing insubordination.

“What if she goes to the police?”

“She wouldn’t,” Greg answered without the strength of certainty.

“For your sake you better be right,” Travis warned then changed the subject, “what are we doing about our trip?” he questioned while watching his friend’s expression, searching for some sign of enthusiasm, or even a measure of remorse for his treatment of Raelene. There wasn’t any on either account but Greg obviously remained pondering on the incident of the previous night and Travis’ warning of police involvement.

“Anyway I didn’t fuck her,” Greg remonstrated trying to convince himself of his innocence.

“You fucked her by using others and that’s the same,” Travis was becoming annoyed with his friend but remained outwardly calm in consideration for their pending venture.

“Bullshit!” Greg hissed.

Travis backed away from further exchange.

“Anyway,” Travis yawned while stretching his arms high above his head, declaring that seeing he was now awake he may as well get out of bed.

“Have you had breakfast?” Travis asks.

“No,”

“It will have to be toast,” Travis offered.

“That is what your mother said.”

“So what’s planned for the day?”

“Want to go to the lakes?” Greg asks.

“What on your bike?”

“How else – walk?”

“Got a licence yet?” Travis asks.

It was one thing to sneak out of town under the cover of darkness but in full daylight their youth would be obvious to any member of the local establishment and Greg had already been warned.

“You know I haven’t – you know something Travis, of late you’ve become a right bore,”

Travis remained silent,

“As for our trip, I would rather go by motorbike.”

“Where am I going to get a motorbike?” Travis exacted angrily.

“I don’t know but it would be better than horses, a bike doesn’t shit everywhere.”

“I’m getting up,” Travis answered while nervously moving about in his bed. Travis hesitated, “I’m naked,” he bashfully declared.

“So?” Greg laughed while remaining at the end of the bed.

“Privacy,” Travis pleaded.

“Shit Travis do you think I’m going to rape you?”

“I’ve got a –,” Travis stoped mid sentence. He was about to declare he was erect but became inhibited from shyness.

Still Greg remained seated.

“Go on I won’t look,” Greg promised, as Travis quickly scuttled his bedding and reached for a towel. Greg did look and noticing his friend’s excitement burst into a cruel laugh, “you had your chance to use that last night.”

“Yea sure thing.”

“Do you want to do something?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno’ maybe go over to Hindsie’s place; his old man is away.”

“I need to take a shower and then go see what mum wants,” Travis admitted while wrapping the towel tightly around his waist.

Greg followed into the bathroom and stood behind while Travis urinated.

“I needed that,” Travis releases a deep sigh but holds in a fart to retain a measure of decorum.

“Your first for the day always feels the best, almost like chucking a load of junk.” Greg says.

“Far too much information,”

“I only say it as it is,”

“You never did believe in privacy did you Greg,” Travis says.

“You’ve nothing I haven’t seen before and since you got out of bed there isn’t anything else left for the imagination,” Greg admitted and sat on the toilet seat as Travis stood under the flow of water. At first it was too hot making him yelp. Travis lowered the heat, “ahhh,” he exhaled from the pleasant flow of water, “was dad home?”

“I didn’t see him,”

“Anyway what’s this about your old man going loopy?”

“He and Wayne were on the piss last night and when they are like that nothing either of them says makes sense.”

“What they were still pissing on this morning?”

“Still and suffering, I don’t think either of them went to bed and they were seated at the kitchen table goggling a load of empties and by Wayne’s expression was about to let me have it.”

“Does he often?”

“Only when he’s home and that isn’t much, I usually bed down in the shed away from them when they hit the booze. Anyway enough of that okay,” Greg issued in warning.

“Well,” Travis spoke realising Greg had said more about his family in one sentence than he had in the entire year they had been associated. With that he took Greg’s advice and moved away from family matters.

“Well what?”

“What are we going to do over at Hindsie’s?” Travis asks lathering copious amounts of soap suds down his chest and further but pausing before reaching his privates so not to appear alluring.

“His old man has a good collection of booze; you know the fancy stuff – top shelf.”

“You know I don’t drink spirits,” Travis admitted and turned away from his friend’s obvious gaze.

“I do,”

“Hey Greg,” Travis pensively spoke.

“What,”

“Aw nothing,”

“Don’t try that one on me Brownie; you know half-said gives me the shits – out with it.”

“It was dumb,”

“So what’s new?”

“How would you know if you’re attracted to blokes?” Travis frowned as he spoke.

“You’re not turning poof on me Brownie,”

“No nothing like that, it was only a question.”

“How the fuck would I know.”

“Forget it.”

“Fuck ya’ how can I forget now that you’ve said? It will give me the horrors for the rest of the day.”

“It wasn’t about me but something Rod Parker said at the café last weekend.”

“Why does Parkey think he’s a poof?” Greg released a satisfying grin as there was nothing he would enjoy more than having one up on Rod Parker.

“He was talking about someone he knows down in Cairns, he said that there is a bar or something where they go; I don’t know,” Travis now attempted to back away not wishing to sound too informed.

“What a poofter’s bar?”

“I guess that’s what he was referring but I didn’t push for more info.”

“Who is his poofy friend?”

“He didn’t give the joker’s name,”

“You do ask some dumb questions Brownie,” Greg snapped.

“What are you looking at?” Travis asks noticing Greg’s line of sight was on his again rising appendage.

“I was just wondering what a poof’s dick looked like,” Greg laughed.

Travis turned from sight, “you know Greg I never know how to take you.”

“That is what keeps it all interesting.”

“There’s a dance at the town hall tonight; want to go?” Travis suggested.

“May do,”

“That new girl who works at Walsh’s emporium will be there,”

“The one who wears her skirt so short that if you put a B on one cheek and an X on the other then if she bent over it would spell box,” Greg suggested.

“That sounds like her,” Travis gave a chuckle towards Greg’s witticism, while remembering his friends scaling of dress length from fridget to inferno.

Don’t like her she’s stuck up, anyway how do you know?”

“I saw her when I ran an errand for mum.”

“I suppose so, could be a bit of a laugh as there is fuck all to do but the pub, besides you said you don’t like dancing,” Greg recollected.

“Just something to do, I used to go to the school social nights when at Herberton.”

“What dancing with the boys?”

“No it was mixed nights, also the townies went along; I liked doing the pride of Erin.”

“That’s a fucken’ waltz or something,”

“So?”

“I don’t fucken’ do old fogies dancing,”

Travis turned off the water, “it will be the twist in the most I should think.”

“I’d rather the stomp; it fucks up the hall floor. Are you finished?” Greg asks.

“Looks that way hand me the towel.”

“And just as I was getting used to looking at your skinny white arse.”

“As I said -,”

“Yea you don’t know how to take me and as I said it keep it interesting. Come on hurry up and we’ll go down to Hindsie’s.

Homeward bound from visiting Sam Hinds and Travis’ thoughts were distant as he passed by the cordial factor, to the sound of glass bottles rattling in their crates as they were stacked for filling.

“Travis, are you a snob?”

Travis quickly turned. It was Linda Edward and by far the prettiest girl in his class, who unfortunately was drawn towards the magnetism of Greg Stanley’s cheeky smile but was smart enough to play him along, without allowing more than a clumsy hand inside her blouse.

“Linda, sorry I was elsewhere what are you up to?” Immediately he noticed Linda’s short dress and in Greg’s scale, it was most definite inferno.

“Talking to you,”

“Yea; and what else?”

“I was looking for Greg,” Linda appeared somewhat disappointed.

“I was with him at Hinds place a little earlier.”

“He was supposed to meet me at the café an hour ago.”

“I think you have missed out, he was heading out of town with Barry Fleet in his old ford pickup when I left him and he said they were to deliver something for Fleet’s old man.”

“He’s stood me up again,”

“Never mind he does everyone.”

“Dianne Henry was talking about you after school on Friday.” They paused by the factory gate with Lynda’s eyes fixed over Travis shoulder on one of the young lads employed in the yard. The lad noticed her gaze and roughly took a hold of his crotch and laughing shook it at her.

Dianne blushed and turned away.

“She was, why?”

“She thinks you are a real spunk,”

“Dianne Tilly – really?”

Travis’ ego was well boosted but nothing more. He didn’t much like Dianne Tilly as she was dumpy and had a dark spot on her lower lip. It was cruel but the boys called her led-lips or PB. Subtle maybe, but the periodic table letters for led were PB and to the boys also stood for pox-box, suggesting she had pox.

Travis had seen Dianne watching him during lunch on the previous Friday but at that time he was more involved with Greg and his supposition which girl was easy and in Greg’s opinion Linda Edward was much too easy for the trying, denoting he had tried and was knocked back.

Travis smiled with the memory but didn’t convey Greg’s opinion.

“What do you think? Do you want to go out with her?” Lynda enforced.

“Dunno’, as I won’t be around after Christmas,” Travis admitted in reference to his intention towards travelling, using it as an excuse not to make decision in either direction.

“Kathy said you don’t like girls,” Lynda smirked on announcing another’s opinion. Linda didn’t like Travis and for no other reason than he appeared not to be interested in her, while obviously enjoying repeating Kathy’s opinion of him.

“You tell Kathy – no it doesn’t matter; of course I like girls.”

“What should I tell Dianne?” Linda asks.

“Linda I can do my own telling thank you.”

They continued their conversation for some distance and at the top of her street Linda went on her way with a simple, see you Monday at school.

Linda’s referral to not liking girls concerned Travis as he continued towards home. Firstly he wished to approach Kathy but quickly thought better as protest may prove guilt.

‘Do I like girls?’ It was a fair enough thought and one that often occurred.

Travis gave a cold shudder.

‘Of course I like girls,’

‘But that isn’t what she is referring. Do I want sex with them?”

‘In time I guess,’ Travis thought as he forced the question away but in doing so he knew it would return.

Gary’s stories are about life in Australia as a gay man. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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