Published: 14 Aug 2017

Awen arrived home late from visiting Alice’s. Missing tea he bought fish and chips and was in his room eating his meal when Margaret entered. “The room stinks of chip fat and vinegar.” She complained while waving her hand around as if such an action would divert the smell.

“I like vinegar on my chips.” Awen protested as the last chip disappeared into his mouth.

“Then eat in the kitchen, you know I don’t like food consumed in the rooms.”

“Hotel Pen eh – and more rules than any hotel; Why not get dad’s secretary print the rules and hang them behind our bedroom doors.” Awen crunched the chip paper and placed it in his paper tidy.

“Not in there love, take it to the kitchen and Rol Bishop is here to see you.”

“I wonder what he wants.” Awen asked as he retrieved the crumbled chip paper, crunching it even smaller.

“There’s only one way to find out, he’s in the living room and young man enough of the cheek, you’re not too old to get a clip around the ears.”

“Sorry mum.” Awen smirked and followed his mother from his room.

“And switch out the light, I hope you don’t leave them all on over at Alices, electricity costs money you know.”

Awen flicked the switch. “Dad can afford it.”

“You didn’t grow up during a depression, if you did you would realise the value of things. Back then all we had was -,” Awen cut his mother short.

“Yes mum, we’ve heard it before, stale bread and dripping and if it wasn’t for grandad shooting the wild life you all would have starved.”

“Often even less on the occasion and were thankful for it.”

Awen found Bishop seated, his head bent forward while nervously fiddling with his fingers.

“Rol what’s the prob?” Awen asked noting his friend disposition. Bishop stood, his eyes fixed on Margaret as she left the room.

“Sorry to come over but I had some news and thought it shouldn’t wait until next weekend.”

Awen quickly turned to be assured his mother wasn’t listening. “That’s alright but what’s with the long face?”

“It’s Martin, I thought I should tell you.” Bishop appeared distressed as he once again became seated. Awen joined him on the large leather couch, it squeaked loudly under there movement bringing Bishop to giggle.

“It’s the leather,” Awen informed somewhat apologetically.

“I know mum had a leather couch but my dog buried a bone in it and we had to get rid of it.” Bishop released a nervous laugh.

“What the couch or the dog?”

“Both but the dog went first, I was quite young at the time and I think dad shot it.”

“That was a little excessive?”

“Dad is inclined to over react, besides it killed the neighbour’s cat and chased cars.”

“No dogs here, mum got rid of my third dog Trixie yonks back, said she stunk, so what’s the prob?”

Bishop ran his hand over the cool smooth surface of the couch. “Fine leather, I know as Uncle Stan is a saddler and I used to help him out on weekends.”

“You didn’t come over to admire the furniture – what’s up?”

“Martin died this morning.”

“Oh,”

“The funeral is for Friday, he is to be cremated and his wishers were to have his ashes spread on top of One Tree Hill.”

“Would you like to go for a walk and talk about it?” Awen asked while attempting to express sadness. It was difficult and he wasn’t good at acting, besides he didn’t actually know the man.

“Yea we could take a walk but really I’m alright with it all, I was more concerned for coming over here, being twice in one week, and what you would say.”

“Come on lets go, as for me I’m a pussy cat as long as you don’t try and put your hand on my knee again while inside the house.”

“Sorry,” Bishop apologised.

“Don’t apologise it isn’t like you to do so, what are you in love or something?” Awen laughed loudly as they left the house but Bishop refrained from referring to the comment.

Reaching the beach Awen was first to speak, “Are you going to the funeral?”

“No I don’t think so, besides I’ll be at work, did you want to go?”

“I don’t believe it would right to do so as I didn’t know the man.” Awen nodded towards the dark shadow of someone coming off the jetty. “It’s Sam, I can tell by the way he walks,” Awen called as the figure slowly approached. “Sam how was the fishing?”

“Much the same as usual but came in early, there’s a storm brewing down the coast to the south east but if it breaks the skipper wants to go out again early in the morning.” Sam noticed Bishop seated beside Awen, “Rol Bishop.” He acknowledged.

“Evening Sam,” Bishop simply answered.

“I heard the weather report on the wireless.” Awen informed.

“What was it?”

“Put it this way, I don’t think you will be going out again tomorrow morning.”

“Suppose that will give me extra sleeping time.”

The two walked with Sam until reaching the path to town. As they departed company Sam, taking Awen to one side, spoke. “I’m to tell you dinner is back on at Ashe’s for Tuesday.”

“When did you see Ashe?” Awen asked.

“He was just on the jetty buying a couple of fresh fish from the skipper.”

“Alright I’ll speak to you latter.” Awen agreed as Sam headed home.

“How well do you know Ashe?” Bishop asked, hearing Ashe’s name mentioned.

“Doesn’t everyone know Johnny Ashe? Beside I told you once before, he mows Alice’s lawn.”Awen answered attempting to belittle his attitude towards the man in order to give their fledgling relationship a measure of distance.

“Oh is that all.”

“What do you mean by that?” Awen demanded reverting to his more serious side.

“You remember the episode with McDonald when we were kids? It was Ashe who caught us.”

“Yes I know that.”

Bishop paused pointing to a spot inside a stand of tea tree. “It was right there but back then the tea tree was thicker, it was our cubby house.”

“You and McDonald used to through stones on Ashe’s roof.” Awen recalled.

“It was McDonald’s idea to scare Ashe from telling anyone. I realise now it was silly but we were frightened boys, besides I’ve spoken with John many times since and he appears alright with it.” Bishop remained coy with his information as he was yet unsure what Awen may know about Ashe and Sam. He already knew about the pending dinner invitation and Ashe’s reason for his invite but it would be up to Ashe or Sam to explain.

Reaching the spot where the creek crossed the sand Awen paused. “If we go any further we’ll be giving Ashe a visit.”

“I should be going, I promised mum I’d deliver something for her and I only slipped out quickly to let you know about Martin.” The two slowly made their way back down the beach.

“How has your old man been since returning to work?” Awen asked.

“He still picks but not as much and hasn’t been on the grog.” Bishop answered, sounding somewhat relieved.

“There is something I wish to put to you about Bert and Martin.” Awen said and turned back towards the path to town.

“What’s would that be?”

“Are you still coming over to Alice’s Saturday?”

“Sure if you like.”

“I’ll tell you then.”

Bishop acknowledged and commenced along the track while Awen watched until his dark form became lost within the night. He called after him. “Goodnight,” Bishop replied and was gone. Moments later Les Herbert’s black mongrel arrived out of the same shadows for its nightly romp in the surf and a roll in whatever it could find dead and washed up upon the beach.

“G’day Midnight,” Awen spoke as the animal past. It paused momentarily gave him the once over and continued on its way.

“Right Middy don’t speak to me, you snob.”

Sam was still out of bed on Awen’s return and as usual had his nose buried inside a western novel. “Is it a good book Sam?” Awen asked and sat close by. Sam stretched his arms as high as he possibly could and yawned loudly.

“They are all much the same, different cowboy, different mob of cattle and different hangings but other than that they could be the same story.”

“Why do you read them?”

“Dunno I suppose it passes the time.”

Awen gave a dirty giggle, “I wonder what they got up to?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know all those men and not a woman in sight.”

“Suppose they root the poddy calves.” Sam offered somewhat casually. Closing the book, with arms folded Sam tilted his head to one side while anticipating Awen’s usual witticism.

“I guess you would have to be quick.”

“Why is that?” Sam asked.

“You wouldn’t want to get the ugly one.”

“You’d be the expert on that young fellow, don’t forget dinner at Ashe’s on Tuesday.” Sam checked the time, “holy crap it’s that late I’ve got to be up at four.”

“I told you the storm is holding.”

“Still I’ll have to find out from the boss, sometime he changes his mind and goes elsewhere.”

“Good night Sam.”

“Good night young fellow, happy dreams about your poddy calves.” Sam answered as Awen left the room.

Sam hadn’t told Awen to bring a bottle but on his way over he called into the hotel and asked the barmaid who had replaced Donna while on maternity leave, what he should bring.

“What are you having for dinner?” Colleen Fenton asked, giving Awen a far away uninterested look as she chewed on a wad of gum. She checked her nail polish, deep red and noticed a chip to one edge.

“I don’t know.” Awen admitted feeling somewhat dense.

“Well is it chicken or fish?” Colleen asked and reached from her manicure set, quickly filing away the rough edge.

“It could be either of both.” I’m not doing the cooking.

“You’re Donna’s brother aren’t you?” Colleen asked.

“I am – I’m Awen.”

“Oh you’re the younger brother and not the sexy one.” Colleen removed the wad of gum from her mouth and binned it.

“I suppose it depends what you call sexy.” Awen protested.

“I haven’t met Ely but your other brother Sam has those come to bed eyes and that’s what I call sexy.” Colleen went moonfaced.

“Well you’ve a couple of problems there, Elyan is my brother and Sam is my uncle and always smells of fish. As for Ely if you stay on here long enough it’s a certainty you’ll met him.”

“So what do you want red or white?” Colleen snapped impatiently while supplying her chewing with a fresh tab of gum.

Awen was late. He was told to be at Ashley’s by seven but it had gone ten past when he knocked. As Ashe opened the door Awen held up two bottles of wine, red in one hand white in the other. “I asked the new bird at the pub and she said red for chicken and white for fish, or something like that and seeing I hadn’t a clue I brought both.”

“Come in but you shouldn’t have bothered I have plenty, besides it’s beef and were having beer,” Ashe checked the red, “but I’m sure a nice bottle of red would go down well.”

Entering Awen spied Sam seated at the far end of the sawn log table holding a stubby of beer and under the dullness of two candles, appeared to have already consumed more than usual.

“You do like beef?” Ashe asked and handed Awen a stubby of beer and a glass. “We’re civilized here at least for tonight, although looking at Sam you wouldn’t think so.” Ashe flashed a disapproving glance towards Sam, who while smiling broadly held up his stubby in salute.

“You made it then.” Sam spoke and finished the last of his beer.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I had a bet with John you would chicken out.”

“That’s not true.” Ashe protested. “Well not entirely anyhow.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Never mind Sam he’s had too much booze and worse of all has to go on duty later tonight.” Ashe showed Awen to his seat, “dinner is almost ready.”

Soon Awen’s eyes adjusted to the weak candle light. He nervously glanced towards Sam, nodded but didn’t speak, then back to Ashe as he arrived with a large portion of roast beef. Placing the joint of meat before Sam he suggested he should do the carving.

“This could be fun.” Sam agreed and unceremoniously carved large chunks of meat from the joint, piling the cuts one on top of the other onto a separate plate. Ashe returned with roast pumpkin and potatoes and a bowel of steaming peas smothered in butter.

“It looks more like you used a chainsaw Sam.” Ashe commented of the carving.

“You should know by now I don’t know my way around a kitchen.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m sure it will taste as good no matter how it’s carved.” Ashe ensured.

“It smells great.” Awen declared in an attempt to break his building tension. Firstly he couldn’t understand why Ashe had invited him and as for Sam he had never seen his uncle quite so intoxicated, while the atmosphere in the room was electric. Something would surly give before the night was out but what it would be Awen couldn’t say.

The three ate their meal in almost silence. There was the occasional request for salt or pepper and offering of beer, the changing weather and some humour around the uncorking of Awen’s red wine. Awen took a sip appearing dissatisfied.

“Is there something wrong with the wine?” Ashe asked and sampled his own glass, ‘a little cheap,’ he thought, ‘but palatable.’

“No; except all wine tastes like vinegar to me.”

“The wine is like vinegar, scotch like hot water and coffee like mud. What do you like?” Sam made light of his nephew’s analogy while appearing somewhat edgy with the evening’s arrangement. Ashe cast a disapproving glance but refrained from commenting.

“Would you like another beer?” Ashe offered.

Awen accepted the offer and being his third, or was it four; found his tongue had loosened enough to be bold.

“John I’m a little confused why I was invited here tonight?” He asked.

It was Sam who spoke and becoming serious he directed his words to Ashe.

“Go on John it was your idea.” He encouraged.

Ashe took a deep breath and commenced to gently tap the surface of the table with his index finger. “That it was Sam,” taking another breath he continued, “I thought it was about time you knew about Sam and I.” His face turned crimson but he had passed the turning point, he could do nothing more except continue, while Sam sat silently in disagreement.

“What that the two of you are gay?” Awen answered before Ashe could divulge their secret. Both Sam and Ashe looked at each other in silence. Eventually Ashe spoke.

“You know?’

“I guess I’ve always known but it was only lately I learned you were seeing each other.”

“Does it worry you?” Ash asked cautiously.

“Of course not, besides I maybe a little that way myself. I’ve been trying to have this conversation with Sam for ages but couldn’t bring myself to doing so.”

“See Sam I told you not to worry.”

“I should be on my way before the skipper sends down a search party.” Sam declared and stood from the table.

“Should you be working in your condition?” Ashe showed concern as Sam shuddered to upright.

“The brisk walk to the jetty should clear the head, besides I’ve been worse and managed.” Sam assured and shouldered his kit bag.

Ashe showed Sam to the door and watched after him until he reached the turning. It was true, as Sam walked his step appeared to quicken and his head lifted into the coolness of the night air. Back inside Ashe turned to Awen. “Well young fellow, it’s been quite a night.” He said and began to clear the table.

“The two of you had me worried for a while.” Awen admitted and commenced to help.

“Why would you worry; Sam was doing enough for all three of us?”

“I don’t know really, maybe because Sam has been acting somewhat strangely of late.”

“You think a lot of Sam.”

“He’s always been the older brother to me that Ely never was.” Awen agreed.

Now without Sam’s influence Awen could speak freely with Ashe. There was a multitude of questions to be asked and Ashe being removed from the family was more likely to elucidate, to do so with Sam present would be restrictive, being somewhat akin to arriving home to one’s mother with the news, guess what mum I’m gay.

“You said recently you discovered the truth about us – how was that?” Ashe asked somewhat confused on what gave them away.

“Firstly I have an apology to make.” Awen slowed his reasoning.

“I’m sure the apology is accepted.” Ashe answered.

“I don’t usually tell fibs and it was out of character.” Again Awen paused.

“Who have you murdered?” Ashe laughed.

“No nothing so drastic but Ely made a suggestion about Sam and one night when he came of the boat I followed him here.”

“So I did see you that night.” Ashe’s penny dropped.

“Yes and that is my apology.”

“Doesn’t matter; what about yourself Awen you said, if there is such a thing, you are a little gay.”

“I suppose what I meant I have such thoughts but haven’t put them into action.” There was a pause, realising he had not told the entire truth but could what he and Bishop experienced while drunk be considered experience and was it fair to bring his friend into the equation. “Well I did once but I’m not sure if that counts.”

“Do you mean with Rol Bishop?” Ashe asked smiling broadly. Ashe had always been somewhat direct in conversation, especially when he felt certain others were of equal thinking.

“You know about that?”

“I suppose I guessed so, Rol is a friend of mine of sorts, or more to the point I’m his confessor and have been since not long after his experience with McDonald.” There was a break in Ashe’s admission and noticing Awen’s expression he added a most important sub-clause. “Friend only and nothing more – I assure you and he didn’t tell me about you and him, only that it was a lad from town, I assumed the rest.”

“So Rol told you about our little drunken encounter?”

“As I said, not as such but from what he did say it was obvious who he was referring to.”

“What about the stones on your roof?” Awen asked.

“He grew out of that and in time I found him to be a good kid, although somewhat impressionable. For a while he did believe he could go straight and dated a number of the local girls but that turned out to be a complete failure.” Ashe commenced to laugh, “One, who will remain nameless in this conversation, jumped him but he couldn’t perform,” Ashe paused, “oh I think that shouldn’t have been said, don’t you dare repeat it.”

“You know I wouldn’t.” Awen assured, although releasing a covert smile at the thought. Secrets were multiplying and he the keeper of men’s thoughts and it was most gratifying becoming part of a sub-clause of the town’s sub-culture.

“What about you and Rol, he thinks the world of you?”

“I don’t know if that is what I want. I like him but can he be trusted? If word got out in a town like this, it would not only be bad for me but for dad,” Awen paused as the sound of the Sea Wind’s siren came clear as it headed out to sea, “more than likely I would have to leave town, as for Ely, how homophobic can you get.” Awen released an alcohol influenced laugh, “I reckon he would lead the way in a rendition of Bert’s demise.”

“I think you underestimate your brother, even with all his bravado, his continuous search for sexual gratification, he is quite insecure and has a soft undercarriage.” A second siren as the boat reached the headland. Ashe concerned for Sam’s alcoholic state but refrained from sharing his concern. “As for Rol I’m sure you can well trust Rol, he has known about Sam and me for some time and has never repeated anything.”

“True he didn’t even mention anything to me, yet I’m still not sure what I want, or how far I want to go.”

“Then young fellow, take it day by day but remember if you remain in a town like this you often don’t get a second chance and if Sam and I can keep from discovery I’m sure you could also, besides there is a wide world out there, maybe the two of you could travel, Rol has always wanted to do so.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Well lad, only you can know your mind but at least give it some thought.”

Awen released a cheeky smirk, “how long have you and Sam been, well you know, at it?”

“That is a novel way of putting it.” Ashe laughed.

“Well you know what I mean.”

“At present young Awen, I think that can be left for Sam to answer, I believe you have more than enough to go on with for quite some while.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Awen apologised.

“Apology accepted but Sam is a very private person, so best to digest what you’ve discovered tonight first before asking too many questions.”

The visit with Ashe gave Awen much to think about. He was most surprised to learn that Bishop had befriended Ashe at such a young age and was his confidant, equally surprising Bishop wished to carry their association further but how should he react towards Sam now his relationship with Ashe was proven, rather than suspected?

Awen conceived it would be most difficult to see his uncle in the same light as he had done even the previous day. It was one thing to assume Sam and Ashe were having a relationship but now knowing so, how should he respond at home? Would the knowledge change his rapport with Sam and would others pick up on such a change. Maybe he could move out and live permanently at Alice’s. As for leaving town or travelling, he even found it most difficult to spend a weekend with relations in the next town. If he were to travel he would yearn for the ocean and the view of Bradshaw in all its moods, would miss his friends, his work, Alice’s cottage and what of Bert?

Eventually admitting it was beyond his control Awen decided to take Ashe’s advice to carry on as normal and see how it developed. As for Bishop and his admission to Ashe he would like to make more out of the friendship that most definitely would have to be taken as a day by day proposal, at twenty Awen was beyond thinking of relationship or permanency.

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