A sequel to ‘At the Turning’

Published: 21 Jun 2018

It was past ten and the ringing of the telephone brought Wayne into the new day from a dream that once awake evaporated from memory but it did have something to do with farming, he remembered as much and there were potatoes, acres of potatoes but why spuds. In reality he didn’t much like potatoes except roasted. His Gran was big on spuds but mostly mashed out of existence, looking and tasting like baby food and loaded with butter and chopped onion. It was the chopped onion that became that recipe’s nemesis, as from out of a mouthful of mush was the crunch of raw onion, that raw bitter taste, lingering on the tastebuds and breath for the remainder of the day, a sensation that even a doubling of toothpaste could not remove.

The landline connection was in the living room, drawing Wayne naked to answer its continuous demanding.

“Hello.” He barked into the receiver.

“Were you still in bed?” It was Louise and seemingly peeved by his leisurely commitment to her demand.

“Why didn’t you call on the mobile?” Wayne asked.

“Couldn’t lover, you have it switched off; about tonight, I won’t be able to make it, so I’ll see you on the weekend.”

“What’s wrong, you appear pissed off?” Wayne yawned into the telephone.

“Just dad, he’s going on about that bloody farm of yours and wants me to convince you to sell it to his Iti friend,” Louise paused, “you are going to sell it to Verrocchi?” She added.

“I haven’t made up my mind,” Wayne lied, “what’s on tonight?”

“We have dad’s sister arriving with her lot.” There was discord in her voice.

“All five of them?” Wayne exclaimed, surprised Fay would agree to such a visit after the last visit. Her youngest son was eight and somewhat obnoxious.

“More marital problems I believe, Collin turfed her out with the kids but as usual a week apart and they are back in their dysfunctional love nest.”

“Why do you need to be there?” Wayne responded.

“Moral support for mum -I have to go, call me Saturday morning and we will do something.” Louise suggested.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, you think of something.”

“I thought we may go up to the lakes for the weekend.” Wayne offered.

“Got to go, call me early Saturday.” Then with a click of the receiver she was gone, leaving Wayne standing naked in front of a wall of glass, slowly scratching at his crotch. He soon became aware he was somewhat aroused and exposed to anyone who chanced to look. “Shit,” he exclaimed loudly, realising he was in view of the neighbouring units. “Coffee,” he declared and quickly drew the curtains.

Firstly it was the aroma of the brewing coffee reminding Wayne of his need to purchase more shares in the developing coffee plantation towards the Mareeba dry lands and his still naked state drew him towards sex.

“Where is Louise when you need her?” he laughed while hiding away his nakedness within a pair of brightly coloured boxer shorts, realising he never liked their fit or design. ‘Who wears shorts with teddy bears?’ he silently questioned as the jug reached its boil.

The shorts were a present from Louise who took much pleasure choosing his clothes and dressing him to her desire while he complained loud and often he was beginning to look like one of those Metrosexual blokes on the television. Who sees your flaming jocks anyway, except when you’re in the cot and even then they end up on the floor and out of sight, Wayne had protested. Yes but I know what’s under your jeans and that’s what counts. Louise had answered, followed by the fact even if her girl friends couldn’t see them; men’s underwear often had bragging rights, especially if chosen by their partner.

From thoughts of sex Wayne remembered the waiter’s quandary and how he could not hold a partner, as Vincent was only the latest of a litany of Jeremiah’s failures. Wayne considered if being gay may be easier than having to jump through straight hoops, He thought not, as even Jeremiah couldn’t hold his men for any length of time. Wayne gave a slight shudder at the idea, before transferring his memory to a young lad he once knew and a certain episode under the Granite creek railway bridge in Mareeba.

It had been Louise who brought Wayne’s attention towards the waiter’s sexual preference, declaring Jeremiah had his eye on Wayne and was more than obvious in his attempt to please. At first it humoured Wayne’s vanity but as time progressed he realise there was more to Jeremiah than pouting lips and over exaggerated expressions but could never envisage how two men could connect in bed, shuddering at the thought of kissing a man. Mutual masturbation was different, he had experienced that.

“I’ve kissed a woman.” Louse had cheekily admitted during an occasion that was waited over by Jeremiah, while the conversation had centred on the waiter’s inclination.

“You have when!” The thought had travelled immediately to Wayne’s crotch.

“Back at school, does it shock you?”

Wayne’s eyes glazed, “not at all,” he quickly answered with a greedy smirk. He was soon away in straight fantasy land, two women in the cot leading to sexual bliss, or at least bragging rights with the mates.

“I’m no lesbian.” Louise quickly corrected but the thought was out there pulsating in blood and forcing against denim.

“I would have liked to have been there.” Wayne became most interested and freely admitted so.

“You men are all alike; anyway what is it about sex with lesbians that’s so entertaining?”

“I guess it’s the idea of being the meat in the sandwich.” Wayne admitted.

“You’re gross.” Louise snapped although enjoying the conversation’s effect.

“You brought it up.”

“Have you kissed a guy?” Louise had asked diverting Wayne’s attention away from sandwich filling, immediately reversing the blood flow to his crotch.

“Not bloody likely.” He strongly protested.

“And why not?”

“It ain’t natural.”

“Yet you think two women at it, is natural?”

“That’s different.”

“Bullshit Wayne – how?”

“I dunno it just is that’s all.”

“You’re full of hypocritical bullshit.”

“You were the one who brought up the subject.”

Back in his living room and nursing coffee, Wayne’s thoughts returned to the restaurant and Louise’s admission. Could he kiss a guy? Simply no but he did remember that one occasion. It was in his eighth school year. Horseplay is what it was called and it happened while skinny dipping in the Granite Creek with Kenny Stanley.

Wayne had never seen another boy naked before that day and was fascinated. Kenny being a year older had progressed well into puberty and had grown a thick bush of blond hair around a rather large appendage. What drew Wayne’s attention was the colour difference as Kenny’s head was straw yellow while his pubic bush was a dirty blond, almost brown.

Wayne’s obvious attention soon drew his friend to comment and suggest he could touch. Wayne hesitated but Kenny soon took control of the situation and guided Wayne’s shaking hand towards a quick and exciting bout of mutual masturbation. Did the memory of the event shock, he though not, besides he was only a confused teenager and it was Kenny who instigated the play.

Wayne recalled a Greek associate of his father who had been in that countries resistance during the war. While hiding in the mountains from the Gestapo Lou the resistance fighter had been befriended by a young Frenchman and seeing there was a lack of women the young lad had become the Greek’s entertainment. Then Lou you are a poofter, Len Jenkins had smugly announced, bringing Wayne’s ears to prick, as even at such a tender age he knew well the meaning of the word.

No I’m not the poofter, the old Greek loudly protested, he was the poofter, I fucked him, therefore with those flawed words resonating Wayne ex post facto laid the blame solely on the character of his friend Kenny.

How can a man fuck another man? The young Wayne had enquired from his limited knowledge and until that very moment while nursing his morning coffee had not thought of the incident again. For an instant he wondered then let it slip back into memory not wishing to realise the answer, finding it somewhat academic to requirements.

Jack Miller answered the Saturday morning’s door and welcomed Wayne to breakfast, which Wayne declined. He had decided to take Louise down to Federation Bay to view his newly acquired property, thinking that once she had seen the farm she would be more supportive of his decision to keep it.

“Louise is in the kitchen with Fay.” Miller nodded his head in that direction, once spoken he returned to his newspaper. Wayne could feel the man’s eyes on him, wanting to enquire of his decision on selling Verrocchi the farm, willing him to make the correct choice, his choice. Wayne entered the kitchen as Fay left for the laundry.

“You’re early.” Louise commented.

“You threatened me to be so.”

“Threatened, little me never – want coffee?”

“If there is one made; where are Sue and the brats?”

“Gone, Collin picked them up late last night.”

“That was sudden.”

“True love works in mysterious ways.” Louise laughed.

“How about going down to the farm?” Wayne suggested once Fay was out of hearing but Louise refrained from answering.

As they finished their coffee, Fay returned to the kitchen; “so what are you two doing today?” she asked, folding a set of clean tea towels into their special drawer.

“Louise hasn’t decided yet,” Wayne nodded his head towards leaving as he wished to be away before Jack built up enough irritation to question him on the farm.

“Don’t be late the Barnett’s will be coming for tea tonight.” Fay reminded as the two departed.

“I thought we were going to the lakes?” Louise recalled Wayne’s previous suggestion.

“I did propose so but you didn’t answer.” Wayne complained and quickly relented, “Alright the lakes it is,” he sighed as Louise led the way to the car.

As they descended into the Cairn’s suburbs, Louise had a mind change and wished to visit her friends in Port Douglas. Wayne pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the motor.

“I thought we agreed to go to the lakes.” He complained, sulkily crossing his arms against Louise’s change of plans.

“Come on lover, we can go to the silly old lakes anytime, they won’t go away but Stella and Peter are off to Europe in a couple of days and I won’t see them for months.” Louise protested while running a well polished oversize artificial fingernail along the surface of Wayne’s inner thigh then across his now bulging crotch. She smiled at the thought of the power she held in such a simple action. “Come on please, I’ll come around tonight.” She added as a sweetener.

“Alright then but I don’t care much for Peter, he’s a snob,” Wayne said as he relented.

Peter Turner was the son of one of Jack Miller’s club associates and managed his father’s marlin fishing business out of Port Douglas. Turner at twenty-three had married Stella a year earlier and because of some business deal had not taken their Honeymoon, now with the deal finalised they were travelling the world with no idea where their ticket would lead. Firstly it would be Paris then London and on until boredom once again drove them home. As for Stella she had been a Cairns social butterfly drawn into its high society by her looks more than her family’s money.

“I don’t think much of Miss. Hilton either.” Wayne added as he changed direction towards the north and added a little too much pressure to the accelerator pedal.

“Who dear?” Louise asked smugly realising how easy it was to change a man’s mind.

“Your friend Stella, everyone calls her Paris Hilton behind her back.”

“Why is that?”

“She is famous for nothing but being Stella or more to the point Peter Turner’s legal fuck.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Simple like Paris Hilton she is famous for just being famous.”

“I hope you’re not jealous lover.” Louise’s voice was low as she felt the strain of insecurity envelope her smugness.

“Na you’re ten of her.” Wayne laughed.

“Only ten?” Louise complained.

“Maybe ten and a half but don’t push it.” Wayne corrected as he settled into the idea of visiting people he didn’t much like.

Port Douglas was somewhat quiet as the tourist season had not yet commenced and with cyclone season in its latency only the sun harden were in town. On their arrival Peter Turner took Wayne to his study under the guise of showing off his new toy, leaving the girls to their small talk and reminiscing about their school years together.

“Look at the tits on that!” Turner exclaimed as the internet fired, bringing forth in vivid colour, what could be only considered two watermelons nestling under a willing smile and length of platinum blond hair. “Wow I’d like to be in there!” Turner added as the model’s full-frontal came with the second photograph, “and there is film,” Peter said and pressed the play button.

“Not bad at all.” Wayne agreed.

“Are you on the net?” Turner asked while flitting through a number of associated sites like a sex starved dragon fly.

“Yes but I don’t seem to have time.”

“Make time man, there’s a lifetime of entertainment here.” Peter Turner declared while subconsciously rubbing at his crotch. Then as quickly he turned the computer off.

“Come on lets go see if the surf’s up.”

“What’s it like being married?” Louise asked Stella over a glass of white wine.

“I’m almost over it; Peter spends more time on his computer than he does with me. Sometimes I think he would have rather married it.” Stella quickly turned towards the study. She had heard movement but the boys had not yet left for the beach.

“Do you love him?” Louise asked with her own uncertainty in mind. She did love Wayne, or then again sometimes wondered if she was in love with the idea of being in love. All her friends had married now it was her turn but as the date grew closer her reservations increased dramatically.

“I enjoy his money and his social standing.” Stella answered honestly.

“What’s he like?” Louise asked coyly.

“In what way?”

“You know in the cot.”

“He has small man syndrome.” Stella sighed.

“He’s over six foot!” Louise exclaimed.

“I don’t mean his height,” Stella lifted her hand and wriggled her little finger.

Then realising Stella’s inference both girls laughed. “It hardly touches the side – and technique! A castrated dog would have more.” Followed by more laughter at the expense of Peter.

“How would he know it was undersized?” Louise asked between her bouts of giggling.

“He wasn’t in the army for three years without taking a shower and men do check each other out; how about Wayne?”

“All I can say at first I thought he would split me open.”

“Is Wayne circumcised?” Stella asked.

“He is,”

“Peter isn’t and I don’t like uncircumcised blokes.” Stella turned her nose.

“I couldn’t say as I haven’t met a feller who wasn’t. So why marry one?”

“As I said I do like his money and his social standing but I won’t you know.”

“Go down there?” Louise suggested and nodded towards her lower extremities.

“I won’t do that although he suggests enough. Stella paused, “they’re coming back – talk about the weather.” Both recommenced their giggling.

“I hope you two aren’t talking about us.” Peter asked but neither girl answered. “We’re going down to check out the surf,” Peter beckoned to Wayne to follow, leaving the girls to their small talk.

“No surf today.” Peter declared. Then on that beach and without a good south easterly to chop the waves there never was, while the distant reef broke up the ocean rollers before they reached the coast. “Good weather for stingers ‘tho – want to go for a swim?” Peter grinned.

“Don’t think so, I’ll leave that to the tourists.” Wayne answered, noticing a small group in their advanced years approaching along Main Beach. All dressed identically, men in their oversized shorts, with more pockets that use for, riding high over pot bellies, protruding proudly through their Hawaiian styled polyester shirts, displaying masses of grey hair. Their women folk nestled calmly under broad brimmed hats with sun withered skin sagging towards the bleached sands, wearing colourful wraps tied in a knot above ample wrinkled breasts.

“Looks like Hawaiian shirts are back with the oldie.” Wayne quietly chuckled as the group passed, the men deep in financial conversation, as their women pondered over that night’s choice of restaurant.

“With that lot they never went out!” Peter answered. His voice loud, turning the head of the closest tourist.

“Shh you’ll look like that one day.” Wayne commented and moved ahead of his friend.

“Nervous about the big day?” Peter asked catching up as Wayne removed his shoes and paddled ankle deep in the frothy brine.

“Not really just another day, I guess were as good as married now.” Wayne answered. “Yourself, how do you enjoy married life?” He asked.

“Good question the sex was better and more often before we married.” Peter complained.

“Is that all?”

“Isn’t it everything, I’m down to once a fortnight if I’m lucky and she won’t.”

“Won’t what?”

“Doesn’t matter; let’s say Stella isn’t very inventive.”

“On that score I know how you feel; Louise also rations it but promises a lot.”

Both men laughed. Wayne pointed to something floating some distance from the beach, what do reckon that is?” he asked.

“Either a log or a croc, there was a big bugger sighted in the estuary of Wharf Street on Thursday.”

“I think it’s a log.” Wayne admitted.

“Don’t rightly know but since the ban on shooting they are becoming bigger and braver.”

“Yes there was a small one basking on the mudflats near the airport in Cairns only yesterday.” Wayne acknowledged.

“Where are you going for your Honeymoon?” Peter asked.

“That my friend, I wouldn’t know as Jack is arranging it all.” Wayne sighed then with an inhale of breath through his closed teeth continued, “he is paying for it, arranging it all, even the guest list all I have to do is turn up. Just as well I don’t have family eh,” collecting a small length of drift wood from the sand he tossed it into the surf.

“We haven’t received an invitation as yet?” Peter admitted.

“I don’t think they have been sent, or the venue chosen as yet but you will be away yourself.”

“We may fly back for the occasion.” Peter suggested.

“Where are you going?” Wayne asked.

“Stella has her heart set on Paris and Rome and for some dumb reason she wishes to see Cairo, you know the pyramids and all that ancient junk.”

“Egypt’s a little dangerous at the mo’.”

“I think I’ve talked her out of Cairo.”

“And you?”

“I’d rather go to Vegas or the Indy Five Hundred.” Peter released a sigh and collected Wayne’s drift wood as it washed ashore. With even greater force he returned it to the surf.

“Then why don’t you?” Wayne asked.

“I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I’ve inherited a parcel of land from an aunt.” Wayne shared while watching the drift wood bob up and down as it returned to the beach.

“So I’ve heard, Stella told me.”

“Oh, so I guess you’ve heard Jack wants it sold to some mate of his.”

“I have, are you going to sell it to him?”

Peter’s question brought realization that Louise shared almost, if not all, their conversations with Stella and not wishing to broadcast his decision he held back on the answer, “So you’re off on your trip on Monday?”

“Yep, early flight to Sydney then off to Europe.”

Across to the north east the clouds gathered black and menacing and appeared to be heading towards land at a gallop. Wayne pointed towards the building storm, declaring they should head back before the rain arrived.

“We’ve plenty of room; do you want to stay the night?” Peter asked as they hastily retreated back to the house.

“Love to Peter but I have things to do.” Wayne lied. He could contend with Peter Turner for an afternoon but stretching a visit for an entire day and night was beyond his endurance.

“Are you sure, it would be fun, I could show you some more internet.” Peter once again offered as they entered through the kitchen but before Wayne could once again rain-check Peter’s offer, Louise’s voice froze his words.

“Hey Wayne, we’re staying the night,” she called from the lounge.

“There you go mate decision made,” Peter Turner declared giving Wayne a gentle push into the lounge room.

“I’ll start tea.” Stella suggested leaving Wayne and Louise alone on the couch.

“I thought we had a sure thing for tonight?” Wayne whispered once Stella left the room.

“We have.”

“Not here, it would be like having an audience. Worse it would be like Peter’s bloody internet porn.” Wayne’s blood was rising as he folded his arms defiantly against the suggestion and commenced to sulk.

“Now lover, it’s only for one night, they will be gone Monday and I won’t see Stella for months.” Louise once again attempted to influence with her feminine charm but for once it wasn’t working.

“Fay said you have the Barnett’s for tea tonight.” Wayne recalled, believing it to be his trump card not to stay.

“I’ll telephone mum later, I can see the Barnett’s anytime.”

“No Louise, you can stay, I’m heading back to Cairns.” Wayne growled as Stella re-entered into the room.

“Curried Prawns and salad alright?” Stella asked from the kitchen door.

“Sounds great,” Louise answered, giving Wayne a nudge to gain agreement.

“Peter is cooking,” Stella approached Wayne, “do you cook?”

“At home and alone I do.”

“When you marry you will have to or eat out every night, I’ve tried Louise’s little delights.” Both girls laughed.

“I’m sure she will learn.” Wayne growled.

“I doubt it – you two can have our room it is more comfortable.”

“Sorry Stella, I will have to head back to Cairns, you know things to do; Louise can come back with you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure, Peter would love to show you around his computer and that would give us girls some time for small talk.”

“No I have things to do; I’ll give my apologies to Peter and be on my way.”

“What’s up his arse?” Stella asked as Wayne left the room.

“He was on a promise tonight.” Louise laughed.

“So?”

“The poor boy’s shy, thinks you will hear.” Louise declared bring them both back to laughter.

“If so it may give Peter encouragement.” Stella admitted.

“One would think he gets enough ideas from his porn.” Louise assumed.

“I think he becomes too excited and is spent by the time he comes to bed.” Stella admitted.

“He doesn’t?” Louise gasped.

“He does, I’ve caught him at it. What about Wayne?”

“I guess so, all men do and he once used it to get his leg over.”

“How?”

“I said not to night and he started. I gave in to stop him.”

“What in the bed, with you there?”

The storm arrived as Wayne passed the Airport and was so heavy the windscreen wipers couldn’t keep up with the drenching, so he pulled over to the side of the road to wait for the rain to pass. It was a good ten minutes before it had settled enough to recommence the journey and with the temperature remaining high the inside of the vehicle became a steam bath.

Wayne turned on the radio to 4CA to be entertained by some farming expert giving advice on how to grow better sugar cane. It was as he tuned for a music station he made his final decision. He would not sell the farm and if it meant loosing Louise that would be the price he would have to pay. Besides he believed her strong and committed enough to defy her father if it came to a choice.

As he recommenced his drive he mentally ran two lists – one for marrying and the other against, with his marriage list running a little shorter than he expected. Sex on call headed the list but didn’t remain so. Too often Louise had women’s problems, headaches or simply wasn’t in the mood. Besides of late neither seemed to be in the mood simultaneously and Wayne found hand relief was more frequent then when he was single. Company came in second but sometimes he thought he would receive more attention from a pet dog. As he entered into Cairns, freedom rose to head his against list and remained until the exercise cleared from his thoughts.

“Hello Louise.” Wayne telephoned Louise as soon as he returned home deciding to travel down to Federation Bay the following morning to inspect the farm, while at the same time show Louise just how independent he could be. As Louise’s voice broke the telephone silence he thought better of his decision but would go through with it anyway.

“Is everything alright Wayne?” Louise appeared concerned; maybe he had been in an accident.

“Fine, look I’m going down tomorrow morning to check out the farm.”

“What brought this on; I didn’t think you were that interested in it?” Louise declared becoming suspicious of his intent. “You’re not sulking because I stayed up here are you?” She added coolly.

“No, don’t be silly, I had a phone call from my Caretaker, he has a few problems.” Wayne lied.

“When will you be back?”

“Couple of days – probably Wednesday.”

“You should have stayed Stella’s friend’s Greg and Pam from Mosman are here.”

“I don’t know them.”

“Yes you do, we met them at Trevor and Sue’s engagement party.”

“Sorry I can’t remember.”

“Well it doesn’t matter but they remember you.” As Louise spoke a male voice came across the background of the telephone call; “hello Wayne,” followed by that of a female offering the same greeting.

“See,” Louise prompted.

“Sort of – I’ll give you a call when I return.”

“Be sure you do lover.” Louise rang off with the sound of a party building in the back ground. ‘She couldn’t care less,’ Wayne supposed.

‘Clothes, I haven’t done the laundry.’

‘Should I go to the coin laundry?’ He thought.

‘Na, reckon I won’t need much, nothing fancy anyway.’ Wayne found his travel bag and commenced to pack enough clothes for a number of days. Almost immediately he dumped them back into their drawer.

“To fancy for the farm,” He said and collected his oldest jeans.

‘Don’t want Ralph thinking I’m some kind of toff.’

Collecting a number of tops from another drawer he smiled, ‘I don’t think so, much too Louise.’ He placed the tops back into the drawer and found a number of old tops, “They will do,” he said and stuffed them into his bag.

“Should I ring the farm or just surprise?” Wayne stated loudly as he collected a remote control panel from the coffee table and pressed a button, instantly loud music came from a number of concealed speakers around the living room. He turned the volume down to just audible and fixed a drink. ‘No best surprise the kid, that way I can judge his character,’ he decided and slumped into his favourite chair.

‘Yes I keep the farm,’ he thought.

‘But what will I do with it?’

‘Like Louise suggested grow spuds?’ a smile and shaking of the head.

‘I don’t think so, I wouldn’t know how.’

Wayne released a guilty huh as even a pot plant Louise gave him as house warming died. Another grin as Wayne fingered the ice in his drink, its clunking came with the memory of Louise’s prognosis, too much water she said but Wayne knew that was not so, as he hadn’t watered the plant at all. It didn’t come with instructions and he never thought of watering it.

‘What about this kid?’

‘If I keep the property should I keep him on as caretaker?’

‘What of the mad Iti?’

‘Possibly he could become violent towards Ralph.’

‘Shit too many things to think about.’

‘It’s bloody hot,’

‘I’ll have a cool shower. Na couldn’t be bothered, easier to turn on the air-con.’ The telephone sounded.

“Hello,”

“Wayne – it’s Peter, you haven’t got the shits with me?”

“No why?”

“Something Louise said after you left.”

“Of course not, if anything Louise is stirring because I decided not to stay.”

“I’ll see you at the airport Monday before the flight.”

“Sorry mate but didn’t Louise tell you, I had a call from the joker looking after the farm and there has been a few problems I need to attend to.”

“Alright then mate, see you when we return – I hope the wedding goes well.” Peter appeared to be genuine with his wishes, even if he appeared to be a little intoxicated.

“I’m sure it will, you enjoy your trip and I’ll see you in a couple of months.”

Wayne finished his drink and turned off the music. It happened to be one of Louise’s discs and considered to be chick music, much too soppy and not enough guts, lacking base and sounding more like tinkling wind chimes.

‘I wonder what Louise has been saying?’

‘Maybe I should have stayed the night, I’m really going to cop to when she returns.’ A yawn and a decision, Wayne grabbed his keys and departed, he needed company.

Let Gary Know that you are reading and what you think of his story. Drop an email to him: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net.

75,006 views