Published: 4 Sep 2023

During the afternoon and before the party there was further riding lessons for the boys, with Alun gradually overcoming his fear of all things equine but Taylor proved to be a quick learner and looked every bit the part of an Australian stockman, even as far as giving Alun encouragement and a few pointers about his saddle posture.

“I think you have improved,” Taylor implies as they slowly return to the stables.”

“Walking about is fine, it’s the trotting I hate,” Alun admits, “when the saddle is rising my arse is falling and they meet with teeth shattering regularity while pulverizing my nuts.”

“It is all in the timing,” Taylor explains.

“That is easy for you.”

“You’ll get the hang of it.”

“Taylor, how old was you when you had your first ride?”

“I’d say about four years old in my reckoning.”

“I mean on your own and not sitting on the saddle with another rider.”

“That was also about the same age, I would ride out for most of an afternoon and no one would even know where I was. Truthfully half the time I didn’t either, it was lucky the horse did.”

“You’re a hero mate,” Alun laughs as he dismounts and loosens the girth strap.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Or a flaming drongo; it’s a wonder you’re still with us.”

As the saddles are removed and the horses brushed and cooled down, Taylor’s thoughts return to those early days and a time when a kid from a neighbouring property came to visit, ‘what was his name?’ Taylor is searching through his memory, ‘Smith is all I can recollect,’ yes it was Smith and did he get me into strife. The memory brings a smile towards how free he was then and how restricted he had become. There had been other adventures with the Smith boy and some not of the sharing kind.

During the afternoon of one of Taylor’s long ago adventurous day, the Smith boy rode over from his parent’s property and with Taylor decided to go exploring. The ride wasn’t all that far but on their way they discovered the property’s dam and Smith decided it would be a hoot to ride their horses across. Taylor was eager and soon their horses were swimming across the short expanse of water, with the lads floating while holding onto their saddles. It was great fun until one of the shearers spied them and told Taylor’s mother of their folly. Then came the strife and it wasn’t their stupidity that brought trouble but soaking the saddle to such an extent it had to be disassembled and the horse hair stuffing dried before mold ruined it.

Towards evening while making ready for the night’s party it was discovered they would be entertained by the musicians chosen to write and perform the score for the film. Also there would be a number of local dignitaries and film critics attending who would love to steal an early scope on the production, therefore the boys were warned to be cautious if approached and to keep their answers generic.

Before showering Alun lay out what he was to wear that night. Immediately Taylor begins to frown.

“What seems to be the problem?” Alun asks.

“Didn’t you read the instructions?”

“No why?”

“For us it is period costume; we have to wear our filming gear.”

“I’ve nothing washed only what I was wearing today while riding.”

“It doesn’t matter; it will give an air of authenticity.

That’s if horse sweat is the preferred splash on.”

The party was to be held in The Shed as the metallic monstrosity that housed the production gear was referred. With the sun dipping into the tall eucalyptus trees of the adjoining forest, vehicles commenced to arrive, some from Ballarat but most up from the city, even a number down from Sydney for the occasion.

“Are you ready?” Taylor asks Alun as he oversees Alun’s second choice of gear.

“I guess so.”

“Is Jillian coming up?”

“No I did call her but she has rehearsals all week.”

“What about your parents did you invite them?”

“Not likely, I don’t want dad coming. Besides he wouldn’t anyway. What about your mother Taylor, did you invite her?”

“She doesn’t much like crowds.”

Alun gives a chuckle, “so we are orphans for the evening.”

“It appears that way, come on I think the party has started, so let’s make our grand entrance.”

“Grand entry you say, I would prefer to sneak in the back door and find a quiet corner,” Alun growls.

“You could be described as a watcher and not a doer.”

“Not like you Taylor who likes to be the centre of attention.”

“That’s me. Come on let’s have a little entertainment.”

The Shed was ablaze with coloured lights and at its center the largest mirror ball the boys had ever seen. All eyes were on them as they made a late entry and almost immediately there was milling with offered hands, back pats and introductions. During the introductions Alan began to fell his importance building, at last he was inspiring towards his dream in acting while pride flowed over him like warm waves on some tropical shore.

“Alun!” the call is from Simon Fowler the Director for the Ballarat filming unit, he approaches the boys. “You haven’t drinks.” No sooner spoken before another arrives with champagne. “Come on boys, drink up – it’s a party,” Simon waves a hand as more are brought forward for introduction.

The first to be presented is a young man barely older than the boys who was introduced as Second Camera.

“You have a strong accent Alun,” Second Camera says.

“I was born in Wales.”

“But there is something else.”

“I lived in England for some time before my family immigrated out here.”

“Ah that’s what it would be and perfect for Logan.” Although perfection is suggested the young man’s tone carries a measure of obvious sarcasm and envy.

“What is your name?” Alun asks, “I can’t call you second camera.”

“Michael – Michael Long, most simply call me Camera.”

“Hello,” A soft inquisitive voice comes from behind Michael, followed by a head of bleached hair then the body, as a weak hand is offered.

Alun accepts the hand.

“Wardrobe,” Michael introduces.

“Ricky – you can call me Stella,” the quiet voice offers.

Somewhat shocked by Ricky’s forwardness, Alun withdraws his hand. “Ricky,” Alun firmly repeats not wishing to use Ricky’s suggested pseudonym.

A voice comes from behind Ricky, “wacka wacka wacka, lock up ya’ sons it’s Ricky the tailgunner,” followed by a lanky freckled faced young man, trying to grow a goatee but obviously lacking the hormones to do so.

“Aw’ shut it Rodney, I could tell a few stories about you if you like.”

“All would be lies you wacka, all lies.”

“Who would you be?” Alun asks.

“Rodney is sets designer,” Ricky answers for the young man, “and as skinny as a pretzel stick. Don’t breath on Rodney or he will snap like a twig.”

Rodney disregards the insult with a head laugh.

Feeling somewhat amiss with their attitude towards each other, Alun simply says Rodney.

I’m looking forward in fitting-up you boys,” Ricky gives a cheeky smile to support his wandering eyes.

“What happened to Ruth?”

“She is in Sydney arranging costumes, possibly she will not be returning for some time.”

“Don’t mind Ricky he is harmless and best Wardrobe in the country but watch his hands, as they have the tendency to wander into places where they are not invited,” Michael warns as Ricky turns he attention towards Taylor.

“Who is this pretty one?” Ricky says.

“Chance;” Taylor firmly answers using his title for the film.

“Umm’, I’d like to take a chance,” Ricky suggests.

“Ricky, how many times must I warn you?” Simon cautions.

The introductions continue for some time although few were connected to the project, simply along for a night’s entertainment with free food and alcohol but considered healed enough to rub shoulders with anyone representing talent. Alun had heard a word for such people, they being described as star-fuckers and the terminology suited many in the room. Even so and unusual for his character he was enjoying the attention and like a purring cat he lapped at it with zeal.

One did stand out. The young man is tall and thin, his dark brown hair tied back behind his head by a band and as he stood off to one side he appeared to be shooing flies away from his face. Alun notices and leans in towards Simon’s ear, “who is the fella’ standing by the door and waving his hands about.

“That’s Eric, come I’ll introduce you.” They approach and Simon gains the young man’s attention. Immediately Eric’s hands fall still.

“Eric you haven’t been introduced to our Logan McGregor.”

“Not as yet.”

“Alun, Eric is boom mic and can place a microphone at such an angle he can pick up a whisper from across a crowded room.”

The lad smiles, Eric Plank, as in timber but I’m not that good.”

“Come I’ll introduce you to your Uncle,” Simon suggests.

“Who?”

“Your Uncle Edward in the movie, if you recollect the younger version of Edward in the previous production was played by you old friend Jack Cowper.”

‘I can’t escape that name,’ Alun thinks and as they part company Eric once again takes to swatting flies. “What is wrong with Eric?”

“Don’t mind Eric,” Simon declares, “it is just a tic but it goes away when he is on the boom, in the most it is his way of dealing with crowds and it doesn’t happen if he is by himself.”

It had been suggested earlier the boys should mingle separately, doing so left the more reserve Alun somewhat outside his comfort zone, especially when a woman who introduced herself as Tanya commenced asking questions about the film. As she did Alun remembered the direction not to elaborate on filming and give only generic answers.

After simple niceties it became obvious Tanya had a dual purpose, “So Alun do you have any reservations playing a gay role?”

Alun hesitates.

Hoping to catch Alun off his guard she continues, “I believe it is a gay role in Logan McGregor?”

“Where did you get that idea?”

“In my business you hear things, some have merit, while others are nothing but l gossip.”

Alun’s tone lowers into defense, “Tanya, who do you represent?” he cautiously asks as he notices Simon watching and by his expression he is casting a warning.

“Have you heard of Flicks Magazine?”

“I have.”

“I am both editor and reporter,” she gives a hopeful smile, “can I refresh your drink?” she takes his glass while gently brushing a finger against his hand. The fine hairs stand rigid under her touch.

Moments later Tanya returns with fresh drinks.

“So you wish to report my story Tanya?”

“That is if you will allow me to scribble a few lines.”

“I’m sorry Tanya but my story hasn’t been written yet and what has is somewhat private and I wish to keep it that way.”

“Then let me commence with the first chapter.”

Alun softly laughs, “I don’t think so.”

“Possibly Alun, I could help you in other ways with your first chapter,” she infers while gently running a slender painted finger suggestively around the circumference of her glass.

“Possibly some other time, I don’t think this is the right night for, as you say, writing a new chapter. Alun looks about, “have you seen Taylor?

Tanya pauses as if she has come to some realization, “I apologize,” she says.

“Apologize for what Tanya?”

“I’m sorry for not realizing earlier.”

“I don’t understand,” Alun admits while becoming increasingly annoyed with the reporter’s persistence.

“I didn’t realise you and Taylor; I’m sorry for being so presumptuous.”

“Heavens no – I’m not gay!” Alun defends in a loud whisper.

“Then my offer stands and if I haven’t got the first chapter to your story, I may have the first few lines, so possibly if not tonight then some other time.”

“Possibly,” Alun says.

“Seeing you don’t have an opinion you wish to share on Lucas Barrington’s latest production, can I put another question to you?”

“As long as it isn’t about the film, or my private life – then go ahead.”

“As you are a rising star -,”

Alun cuts Tanya short with a throated laugh, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“You would be surprised who my readers, they being your future fans, are interested in.”

“Then go ahead, ask away.”

“What is your stand on climate change?” Tanya removes a small notebook and readies to write. She wasn’t interested in Alun’s opinion on the weather but it was a good lead in to possibly have him lower his guard allowing a question more related to his part in the film.

“You should be asking Taylor that question, as he’s a bit of a tree-hugger.”

“I may also ask your friend but at the moment I am interested in your opinion.”

“Alun laughs.

“So Alun you don’t agree with scientific evidence on climate change?”

“No I agree in principle but in my opinion we should simply go for broke.”

“What does going for broke mean?”

“Simply use up everything, pollute the earth and kill of the population, then at its end the old girl can start up again without people mucking up her good work.”

“Who is the old girl?”

“Mother Nature.”

“That seems a little drastic Alun. Wouldn’t you think instead of Nature looking after the ecology, possibly we could take a page out of the first people’s book in how to look after country?”

“I once read an article suggesting that before the Aborigines arrived here, Australia had extensive forests and they cleared the trees to have grassland so they could hunt kangaroos.”

Tanya appears uninterested in Alun’s severe opinion.

“Don’t you dare quote me on that but you can quote on another opinion. The whole climate ordeal reminds me of a book on HIV-Aids I found in my local secondhand bookshop and written back in the late eighties. Its title was and the Band played on.

“What is its relevance Alun,” Tanya puts away her notebook without writing.

“What I mean, even with all the warnings everyone is living as if the world’s resources are infinite. No matter what we all do, it is like a large boulder rolling down a very steep incline, it’s already rolling and I don’t believe anyone can stop it, or could be bothered trying.

“That’s a little abstract for my readers, I don’t think I can use it but my earlier offer remains.” Tanya gives a second finger touch to Alun’s hand as she moves away.

As Tanya trolls for information elsewhere Simon returns to Alun, “I saw you talking with Tanya Winslow and hope you remembered not to elaborate on the film.”

“I didn’t say anything about the film, although she did question me on Logan’s character being gay.”

“What did you say?’

“I simply asked her where she got the idea and she said there were rumors. I then asked if she had seen where Taylor had gone and somehow she came to the conclusion that Taylor and I were also gay.”

“How did you answer that?’

“I told her I wasn’t gay then she suggested we should get together.”

Simon gives a frown.

“Have I said the wrong thing?”

“Not as such but Mr. Barrington would like your private status to remain vague.”

“Why would Mr. Barrington want that?” Alun asks.

“To keep with the mystery I should think and possibly enhance interest from the gay community.”

Alun appears annoyed, “at my personal expense?”

“Alun in the industry many things are suggested and considered by the public, some are denied others debated but in general the viewing public will believe what suits it. Really I wouldn’t concern.”

“I have a lot to learn,” Alun suggests.

“As do we all lad. It can be a murky pond and sometimes it takes courage and willpower to keep your head above the sludge.”

“You paint a gloomy picture Simon.”

Simon laughs; “not so lad, I am simply suggesting a little caution. It is best to laugh a lot, while learning to give ambiguous answers and ignore adverse criticism as you will get plenty. In doing so you will find the industry to be lucrative and a lot of fun.”

Alun had been asleep for some time when disturbed by the clumsy return of Taylor as he flicks on the light.

“Turn off the fucken’ light!” Alun gruffly complains and pulls the covers over his head.

“Opps sorry,” Taylor kills the switch.

“Where have you been?”

“I went for a walk.”

“I was looking for you at the party,” Alun says.

“There was too much cigarette smoke so I went for a walk.”

“For three hours?”

“The moon was so bright it was as if it was daylight. I went right down to the bend and stayed a while at the creek. I would have said but you were busy with that reporter from Flicks.”

“Tanya,”

“Was that her name, I wasn’t introduced, only Simon warned me about her earlier.”

“She wanted more than a scoop on the film.”

“You should have,” Taylor undresses and slides into his bed.

“I’m not a very good liar, Jillian would see right through me,” Alun says and releases a huffing sound.

“What is that about?”

“Tanya thought I was gay suggesting we were in some relationship.”

“I should think there will a lot more of that before filming is at an end. If I recollect it was said of Heath and Jake in Brokeback and Heath married Michelle soon after.”

“I don’t think Heath married Michelle for that reason.”

“Probably not but you could marry Jillian to prevent further insinuations.”

“As I previously said, Jillian isn’t the marrying kind, besides I feel our relationship is going stale.”

“What makes you believe that?”

“Attitude I suppose.”

“Does that worry you?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking of late and am slowly realising much about myself.”

“In what way,”

“Nothing I wish to share.”

“Then on that note Alun I will say goodnight, we have an early start tomorrow.

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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