Published: 9 Jan 2020

After having to work back Lewis scarcely had time to throw some clothes in a carry bag and down his tea.

“By the way mum, I won’t be home for the weekend,” he advised as he bolted a thick beef sausage, doused in a sea of tomato sauce.

“That’s sudden, where are you going?” Winnie asked offering a second helping. He declined stating he would need to hurry.

“Where are you going?” Winnie asked once more.

“Oh just up the coast with some of the blokes from work: probably do a bit of fishing, I thought I told you so.” Again Lewis found it prudent not to mention Billy McKee’s name thinking it more convincing if there was a group.

“It’s the first to my ears Pet.”

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t know you liked fishing.”

“Neither did I,” Lewis laughed collecting his bag and headed for the door.

“I hope they don’t drink and drive.”

“She’ll be jake mum,” he called back and closed the door, “they are all saints and church goers,” he laughed and was gone.

Once on the footpath he checked back to be sure his mother wasn’t watching who picked him up. She was, he grinned and waved back then moved further up the footpath towards the Graham Hotel. He hadn’t long to wait McKee soon turned the corner and spotted him on the kerb.

“Ready?” Billy asked flinging wide the passenger door.

“Ready,” Lewis replied climbing in beside McKee, tossing his bag onto the rear seat, “nice car.”

“It belongs to the old man.”

“I know that, what is it?” Lewis not being car minded enquired.

“What is that on the bonnet?”

“Oh a Jaguar, mum loves Jags.”

“It goes, I suppose and drinks petrol like alcoholics drinks grog, want to drive?”

“No thank you, its looks new.”

“It came out in fifty-nine; mark-one, dad got it in sixty-two and looks after it better than he does his family.”

“It’s a wonder he lets you drive it at all.” Lewis remarked.

“True.”

It was almost Kuranda before either spoke at length. There was the niceties in the form of how was your day and what have you been doing of late, all leading questions where the necessary answer was yes or but a minimum of words.

Beyond the leafy sleepy town Kuranda and into the winding twelve miles to the coast they settled into each other’s company. The conversation broadened but remained general as neither felt confident in laying personal feelings naked before the other. Lewis would have loved to ask why McKee had left the Army and why after a life time of sarcasms, he now considered Lewis to be more that a verbal punching bag but for the present he avoided the subject.

On reaching Cairns McKee suggest a beer before the pubs close so they visited the Railway Hotel bar for a quickie. While there Lewis purchased a bottle of scotch to which Billy claimed there was more than enough at the shack but Lewis felt he should contribute something to the weekend.

“You know I was caught in the cyclone?” Lewis said as they passed over the Barron Bridge on their way north. This was the first time he had ventured north of Cairns since then and was surprised how quickly the land recovered its green blanket, even the fields had a new crop of cane while new houses were being built along the way.

“Yes you did tell me – twice?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, it is a good story.”

“I lost my car when a bloody big tree fell on it.”

“You were lucky not to have been in it,” McKee’s concern seemed real allowing Lewis to continue the oration of his experience, explaining how he sheltered in an old vat and had to stay in Cairns until the Mareeba line had been cleared. Although Billy had previously heard the story he remained politely attentive.

“Hey pull into that track to the left,” Lewis said as they approached the old sugar mill where he had sheltered. McKee reacted and took the path.

As they slowly drove down the track the outline of what remained of the decaying mill became exposed in the beam of headlights. Then Lewis’ wrecked car came into view as did the vat he sheltered in. Billy parked directly behind the wreck and turned off the motor. “It sure is squashed,” McKee commented.

As soon as the vehicle came to a stop, Lewis alighted walking the short distance to the flattened pile of glass, plastic and metal. Then looking at his wrecked car, the vat and the mill, he realised he had no emotion for the experience, it was as it had never happened. If there was any emotion it was only for his loss of freedom, which he knew he would once again have as he had almost reached the necessary deposit to purchase a new vehicle. With such a purchase it would be possible to pack his belongings and drive the all but two thousand miles to Melbourne.

McKee raised the lights to high beam and joined Lewis beside the wreck. Eventually Lewis spoke.

“It’s surprising how quick nature reclaims the dead,” he said viewing the copious amounts of rust on every metallic surface. Even the vinyl seats were returning to the earth as was the synthetic stuffing which had been pulled asunder by bush rats to use as nests, while termites commenced to build a mound under and through the open and buckled door.

“Look even a tree is sprouting,” Lewis laughed pointing to a sapling that had found light through a gap in the crushed bonnet and had already out reached the boundaries of the wreck.

“You seem to be taking it well?” Billy said softly appearing cautious not to create a new rise to Lewis’ emotions.

“You know Billy I don’t have any feelings at all about the whole ordeal. It is if it happened to someone else. Like something you saw at the movies.”

“Brave,” McKee mused as Lewis retrieved his back pack, now free from the wreck by the shifting of the tree trunk. He opened the pack and withdrew an item.

“My favourite shirt,” Lewis comically remarked.

“Give it a wash and there you go.” McKee laughed.

“I don’t think so, it has rotted all down the back.”

“I was joking, when you’re ready we best be on our way.”

“Sure I’m ready, lead on.”

By the time they reached Port Douglas the town was asleep and the only suggestion of human existence was dull lighting from a sparse collection of street lamps and the occasional house light. Those within would surely be listening to late night radio, playing cards or sitting around having a quiet drink and conversation about past times. Possibly they would be reminiscing past cyclones by intensity and year, before turning in for the night.

“Not far it’s on Four Mile Beach,” Billy answered while turning off the main road towards the sea. Then within seconds they were there.

The shack was a three bedroom farm house, verandah and all, snuggled safely behind a sand hill, protecting it from the elements that chanced to approach from seaward. Its metal roof appeared fresh and painted red, while its timbers were of a deep green and pristine.

“I thought it was a shack?” Lewis asked in surprise.

“To dad it’s a shack and we have always called it so,” Billy answered as he opened the boot and retrieved a large box, then gestured Lewis to help with a second.

Once on the verandah Billy flicked a switch and the entire world around the stairs burst into brilliance, while a second switch inside the door illuminated a long hall with its collection of rooms leading off left and right, “it was once a farm house up near Mossman and dad had it shifted here.”

“Doing so would have been costly.” Lewis perceived.

“Huh, dad has plenty; he also paid to have the mains electricity brought over from the main street and I won’t mention what that cost was.”

Billy closed the front door then gestured with a nod of the head towards the end of the hall.

“Kitchen is down at the end, we’ll put the stuff there,” Billy motioned with a head nod while leading the way.

“Where’s the beach?” Lewis asked, after dumping his box on the kitchen table.

“Over the sand hill – are you hungry?”

“Not really, I wouldn’t mind a beer.”

Billy opened the door to a well stocked refrigerator retrieving two small bottles of Gold Top from the collection handing one to Lewis.

“Port Douglas doesn’t seem to have much cyclone damage.” Lewis declared as he sipped from his beverage.

“Were behind a high sand hill here, as is much of the town but there was quite a lot of damage north and south of the town and most of the trees even here in town copped belting.”

“I should have headed here instead of back to Cairns?”

“You can never tell with cyclones,” Billy concluded.

It was a warm night so McKee suggested they retire to the front verandah, to enjoy a cool breeze that had just arrived from out beyond the reef.

On the verandah, relaxing back into a set of deck chairs with the cool breeze and a second beer, they soon eased into a united harmony. While from over the hill the lapping of the incoming tide upon the sand was hypnotic and Lewis felt his pulse settle into the rhythm of the night. Then just before the alcohol took control, McKee suggested it was bedtime, as he wished to rise with the sun for the best fishing.

“We will have to share a room, does that worry you.”

“Not at all, at the hostel it was twenty to a dormitory and bunks.”

“That must have been fun,” Billy laughed and guided the way along the passage.

“Never thought of it really, what about you and the army?” Lewis answered.

“Much the same; not bunks but the next at almost arms length.”

“Not much privacy then.”

“Like you and that hostel I guess.”

The house had three bedrooms, one was for Billy’s parents, the second was used as a store room, while the third, was much smaller containing two single beds.

“Mine’s the left near the window, you have the one on the right.” Billy said as he entered and switched on the light, “and no talking after lights out,” he added in the voice of Sergeant-Major.

“Yes sir!” Lewis responded.

“Army,” Billy grunted in disrespect then doused the light.

Lewis quickly stripped to his singlet and underwear and was between the sheets before Billy had removed his shirt, then lay watching Billy’s form as he removed his trousers. McKee’s body was outlined by the weak stream of moonlight that arrived through the naked window, giving the impression of a Greek statue of the perfect male anatomy. Lewis couldn’t tear his gaze away from McKee as he momentarily stood in only his underpants before the window as if drinking from the dull moonlight, then he slid between the coolness of the sheets and rolled away from the gaze of Lewis.

“Goodnight,” he called across the semidarkness.

“Goodnight.”

“Up early for the fishing tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

“Bed comfortable?”

“Almost but it will do,” Lewis wriggled about to find maximum comfort.

“A bit lumpy.”

“You know Billy that is about the most you have ever spoken to me in one go.”

“I don’t know we were yabbering on somewhat before.”

“True.”

“Again goodnight and go to sleep.”

“Yes sergeant-major McKee.”

Billy gave a slight grunt but didn’t answer.

“Breakfast?”

Billy’s voice broke dreaming, bringing Lewis into the new day and the realisation he was laying on his back tenting the sheet. He quickly rolled to one side and stretched, as the scent of frying bacon filled the room.

“You’re up?” Lewis yawned and focused his eyes on the figure filling the doorway.

“So are you it seems,” Billy laughed. Lewis nervously joined him in the joke and sat on the side of the bed, again stretching his arms and yawning wide with the sheet covering his deflating appendage.

“You can cook?” Lewis said surprisingly.

“Army.” Billy once again growled and returned to the kitchen. Lewis quickly dressed and joined him in the kitchen.

“Tea, or would you prefer coffee?”

“Tea please.”

“It will have to be one of those new teabags they advertise on the radio as I don’t have a tea pot.”

“That’s fine mum has also found them but still prefers pot tea, I guess I wont get a mouthful of tea leaves from them.” He gave a light chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“Mum, I’m always telling her off for not using a tea strainer.”

“Funny?”

“I guess more ironical; where’s the fishing?” Lewis asked from a plate of bacon and eggs and a steaming mug of tea.

“Out there,” Billy answered pointing with his knife down the hall, through the open front door and past the barrier of sand.

“From the beach?” Lewis asked. He had often seen men fishing from the sand, their long poles and lines playing with the tide as they stood for hours in the hot sun, with nothing to show for their effort but anticipation and sunburn.

“Na dad has a boat and motor; it’s small but great for fishing. We’ll go into the tidal estuary, just north of the town. It’s close to the jetty there so we can call into the pub for a counter lunch.”

The boat was housed in a shed near an opening in the sand wall close to the house and with two, it was easy to manoeuvre to the water then without effort they soon had it launched and motoring towards the estuary. Once amongst the mangroves Billy stopped the boat and dropped the small anchor, while, with a supply of beer, they lay back waiting for the fish.

“You know there are crocs in the estuary?” McKee lazily advised, removing his sun hat from covering his site.

“I guessed that would be so but haven’t seen any.” Lewis admitted.

“They would have seen us that a certainty, do you want to go for a swim?” Billy offered as he felt a nibble on his line, then it was gone. Almost as instantly Lewis had a nibble and jerked his line, finding it ran from the reel.

“I’ve got one!” he shouted as his line ran.

“Play it, reel it in.”

“How?” Lewis had never caught a fish before and became confused so he gladly offered the rod to Billy.

“Like this,” Billy said as he slowly brought the catch to the side of the boat then lifted it in, “Barramundi and a nice one,” he said as the fish flipped around on the bottom of the boat. McKee soon dispensed a heavy blow with the heavy handle of his fishing knife and re-baited Lewis’ hook. Moments after casting his line back into the muddy waters of the mangrove Lewis had hooked a second fish. This time he followed Billy’s instructions and reeled it in himself but left the killing to McKee.

“Army,” Lewis said as Billy stunned it then threw it into the bottom of the boat with the first.

“Nope, I only cooked things, that was years of fishing experience.”

They remained in the estuary until midday but without further luck and with a storm brewing on the horizon McKee decided to call it a day.

“Beginners luck Lewis,” he said as they motored back.

“Bull – it was pure skill,” Lewis answered.

“We’ll have another go tomorrow and see how your skill holds out.”

There was a mysterious beauty about the mangroves and with its sullen and dark waters one could imagine that the Loch Ness monster or its equivalent existed in the depths. As they slid through the murky waters, Lewis trawled his arm into the cooling soup, allowing a spray to dampen his face.

“You’re brave,” Billy declared while coming to the end of the estuary.

“Why?”

Billy nodded and pointed to the north bank, where a small crocodile lay baking in the afternoon sun.

“Shit!” Lewis gasped as he withdrew his arm from the water sitting upright to the centre of the boat with his arms folded across his chest.

“Don’t usually see them this close to town but it’s only a small one and won’t eat much,” Billy stated somewhat drolly.

“Bloody big enough,” Lewis protested his arms still tightly folded and well away from the water.

“Yea and where there is one you can be sure there are others – and bigger for sure.

As the wake from the boat reached the far bank the crocodile took fright and slid into the water disappearing from their sight, “did you know a few years back after a storm a Cairns some lady went out to the gate to get her morning paper and found a fourteen footer barking at her on the front lawn,” Billy added.

“You’re joking.” Lewis said as he felt a cold shudder travel through his body.

“Well that’s what the Cairns Post reported,” McKee asserted as he ran the boat onto the beach at the break in the sand hill, “come on help me get this thing out of the water.”

The pending storm held off and circled the coast then drenched the mountains to the west before returning seaward, where it hung like a wet dishcloth for the remainder of the day. The late afternoon found them at the local pub, where Billy appeared to know everyone and talked freely to those who wished to converse, as most of the patrons knew Billy’s father while holding him in high esteem.

Many of the locals had Italian ancestry and entertained with much gusto, unlike the Dutch among the tobacco farmers who were more reserved, possibly brought on by the fact the price for sugar cane was stronger than that for tobacco. Eventually Billy managed to break away from the conversation and made suggestion they should return to the house to cook Lewis’ fishing luck.

“Happy lot those Iti’s,” Lewis perceived while departing the bar.

“Italians,” Billy corrected.

“Yes Italians.”

“Happy on the outside maybe but inside often quite dark.’

“What does that mean?” Lewis asked.

“They not only brought good food and drink to the north.” McKee said.

“Okay what else.”

“There is an undertow of the mafia here, so be careful who you insult, revenge runs deep and calling them Iti’s is a good start.”

“Mafia?” Lewis questioned.

“Yes the black-hand lot, gangs and stand over, like what you see in the flicks in Chicago.”

“Oh.”

While Billy prepared their meal Lewis went for a walk along Four Mile Beach and with the sun setting in the mountains behind, he became fascinated with the storm on the sea’s horizon. The inky black clouds were alive with electricity and with the last of the sunlight they exploded in a multitude of colours.

“Impressive isn’t it?” Billy had come up behind him and spoke before Lewis realised his presence, “dinner’s ready.”

After their meal they retired to the verandah to watch the depleting storm, while Lewis brought out his bottle of scotch.

“Did you know I’ll have to register for national service later this year?” Lewis said as he shared his bottle.

“Then join the Navy all they do is sit of the Viet Nam coast and blast shit out of everything. Safer there and half the time they bomb their own men and not the Viet-cong anyway,” he paused and laughed “Well at least that is what the Yank Navy did!”

“Is that true?” Lewis gasped with surprise.

“I doubt it but it does make good news print.”

“Billy why did you leave the Army?” Lewis asked quietly after gathered the courage to raise the question, one that had been bothering him since Billy McKee had suddenly returned.

Up to the point of question it had been a perfect weekend and he wished it could go on forever. He realised that by asking the question may bring it all to an end but he also realised that if he didn’t it would burn into their newly formed friendship for all times. Lewis remained nervous as he waited for Billy to either inform or explode.

“Well the unofficial reason was too many fist fights,” McKee answered calmly with a smirk after a lengthy deliberation.

“Then what was the official reason?”

“Another time,” Billy said and changed the subject but Lewis had a second question.

“You’ve changed did the army cause that?”

“How do you mean changed?”

The scotch bottle was emptying.

“You seem more approachable,” Approachable was the only way Lewis could explain his friend’s new persona.

“Maybe it was the Army eh?”

“It must have been rough?” Lewis said now taking on a new fear for his own pending enlistment.

“Na it wasn’t that bad but it was something like taking a wild brumby and breaking it.” Billy lent back, cupped his hands behind head while releasing a lengthy sigh, allowing the breath to gently hiss on exit, “Lewis you do ask a lot of awkward questions.”

“Sorry.”

“No I like you doing so.”

“You were the brumby?” Lewis suggested.

Again Billy deliberated on his answer and was once more going to deflect the conversation but instead he decided that it was as good a time as ever to confide in someone else and was certain that Lewis was that confidant.

“More scotch?” Billy offered and divided the remainder.

“Shouldn’t I’m not used to the stuff. I’m already pissed.”

“Likewise.”

“You were saying,” Lewis spoke not wishing to lose their point in the conversation.

“I think there was a bit more to it all but you are on the right track.” Billy answered then with second thought pulled back from continuing. A cooling breeze came in from the sea and swirled the alcohol in his head. Billy felt its numbness in his face, realising that some time during the night he would open towards Lewis but he first needed confidence Lewis was receptive.

Towards midnight they had finished the Scotch and Billy had retrieved half a dozen stubby bottles of beer from the refrigerator. “Want a beer?” he called from the kitchen.

“I guess one.”

Lewis noticed that there seemed to be something bothering his friend but didn’t know how to enquire. ‘Eggshells,’ Lewis thought, ‘I feel I am walking on eggshells,’ but that or not he would know Billy’s mind before the night was out.

Billy had almost brought his heart to his sleeve on a number of occasions but as soon he did he retreated back to silence, or converted the subject into something less personal. Now he had had enough alcohol to say most anything.

“You’re a friend of Ashley?” Billy asked after a long silence.

“I only know him because Ian boarded there.” Now Lewis’ third topic of interest, being what was the bad blood between Billy and Ashley arose without having to ask. If Ashley wouldn’t tell what his fear of Billy was, possibly he could obtain it from the horse itself. A broken horse at that.

“You know he’s a poof?” Billy advised without malice as one would say it was a fine day or a pleasant night. Lewis froze into silence not knowing how to respond. Had Billy somehow found out his secret? Had Ashley and Billy been talking about his occasional visits and through his silence he thought of Liz’s discovery of his diary while the memory of her venom added more fuel to his panic.

“As I said I hardly know him,” Lewis eventually answered trying to distance himself from Ashley by following his response with a question, “but he is sure nervous of you.”

“He should be, he went down on my dick with I was fourteen.”

“And you let him?” Lewis asked his voice rising two octaves.

“At fourteen you don’t care whose swinging on your dick as long as you get your rocks off,” there was a pause before Billy continued.

“So you are interested in knowing why I left the army?” Billy asked quietly

“Only if you wish to tell me.”

“I think you are ready to know,” Billy again paused and with a measure of trepidation continued, “Like the situation with Ashley, I was caught by the Sergeant with my dick down another’s private’s throat, so we were both given a dishonourable discharge.” A nervous chortle, a throat clearing cough then silence.

Oddly Lewis didn’t feel repelled by Billy’s story. He couldn’t believe Billy with such a body and lifestyle would voluntary agree to such an act, or even admit in doing so. He could understand a fourteen year old boy experimenting but never Billy. To add to the strangeness of the night, Lewis was becoming concupiscent while relieved the darkness had fought the weak light from the verandah, concealing his rise. He repositioned his legs for extra cover.

“But you are always picking up girls?” Lewis said trying to bring some sort of heterosexual normality back into Billy’s life.

“I like girls but I like boys as well. I always have but masked the fact by overcompensated by chasing skirt.”

“When did you realise all this?” Lewis asked. He was now settling into the conversation and found it didn’t bother him in the least, thinking to a degree it mirrored his own existence, although he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I suppose I’ve always known, it was the army that brought it to the surface and the broken horse accepted a lot of things about itself.” Billy smiled and reached for another beer. “Want one?” he offered the bottle to Lewis

“Why not, I think after that I need one.” Lewis accepted the beer and continued, “For what I remember you never liked me, you once threatened to rip my balls off if I cracked a fat.”

“You remember that,” Billy laughed and continued, “and as I well recollect you did crack a fat but I didn’t rip them off, instead I wanted to put my hand inside your pants.”

Lewis laughed loudly.

“What?” Billy quizzically asked.

“I also wanted you to grope me but what does this all mean?” Lewis added.

“I don’t know but I’ve always liked you. I suppose in the past I couldn’t say that and wouldn’t but now; well it doesn’t matter.” Billy answered then fell silent.

Once Lewis accustomed to what Billy was conveying, he found his inhibitions were dissolving and the lie he had convinced himself was now most unconvincing. There was a possibility he had an affinity with Billy and if it were alright for Billy to like boys, it was likewise alright for him to do so but what did it mean and where was the conversation leading.

“Ashley also cornered me,” Lewis finally admitted.

“But you weren’t fourteen.” Billy said.

“Maybe like you and the army bloke, I also liked it.” The words now flowed freely from Lewis and he didn’t feel embarrassed or threatened.

The two finished their last beer in silence and watched the storm lose its power to become a long dark line across the back of the Coral Sea.

“I feel drunk,” Lewis giggled.

“Then if we are going fishing tomorrow I think we should get some sleep.” Billy rose to his feet swaying a little, “I think I’ve had too much,” managing his stagger he turned off the verandah light and beckoned Lewis to follow – “Coming?”

At their bedroom door Billy paused but didn’t enter. He turned and took control of Lewis’ arm, “come with me,” he said while guiding Lewis back down the hall towards Billy’s parent’s bedroom. Lewis silently followed as Billy opened the door and entered, then without turning on the light he removed his clothes, while Lewis as in a state of hypnotics followed Billy’s lead, until both stood clad in their underwear, standing on either side of the bed as if waiting for further directions, creating a sense of the ridiculous in Lewis who gave forth a nervous giggle, folded his arms and lightly scratched at both shoulders.

“We don’t need these.” Billy decided removing his underwear, displaying a semi erection, quickly placing himself between the sheets. Without hesitation Lewis followed his lead and lay naked beside the toned body of Billy.

“What now?” Lewis nervously asked, finding he was in unexplored territory.

It was easy for Lewis to sit on Ashley’s couch, hands folded behind his head watching straight pornography with Ashley’s balding head bobbing up and down, while servicing his frustrations. This situation was different; it was voluntary and wanted. It was something deep down in his psyche he had wished for and now he was floundering like the barramundi he had caught that day, he was thrashing about in his fears and inhibitions in the bottom of the boat of reality.

“I don’t know but come over here,” Billy said and drew Lewis’ body close to his own. Lewis felt Billy’s erection against his stomach; it felt hot as it mingled with his own furnace.

“Should we do something?” Lewis asked giving another nervous giggle as he smelt Billy’s maleness and knew that now it was imbedded into his senses it would remain with him.

“Shhh this will do. I want to be sober when we do whatever we do.” Billy laughed and was asleep.

Lewis was much too hyped to sleep and cuddled closer into the back of Billy while listening to the slow and regular beat of his heart, his own pacing beet by beet, as his mind spun with disbelief. Only that afternoon if it were suggested to him he would lay naked that night and lying with a man Lewis would have discharged the implication with resentment. Now it felt natural to do so and the spark he often felt was becoming a raging bushfire. He lay in disbelief, Billy, who was most probably the most handsome, or at the least the most well built young man in town, actually had attraction for Lewis. Billy, who had fucked his way through countless Mareeba virgins, now lay naked in his arms. At the thought Lewis smiled, this was the first time in his short life he had spent the night with anyone and it wasn’t a girl and he didn’t care. Then as his heart rate slowed to that of Billy’s he was asleep.

Sunday’s sun burst through the bedroom window and onto Lewis’ face, bringing back memories of alcohol and the realisation he was somewhat suffering from the previous night’s session. He was alone; Billy had already risen and could be heard down the hall in the kitchen. Then realising his nakedness the memories of the previous night came back installing fear Billy, now sober would reject him, declaring that alcohol was the receptacle of guilt.

As Lewis prepared to retrieve his clothes from beside the bed, Billy returned carrying a large glass of fresh orange juice. Billy remained naked and proud, his honey blond pubic hair massed and curled to crown his well endowed appendage as it danced with each step. Lewis froze, waiting for ridicule but remained mesmerised by the sight.

“Got a hangover?” Billy asked in a deep morning after a heavy night’s voice as he neared the bed.

“A little but I don’t think I could do much fishing today.”

“Get this into you it will make you feel better,” Billy handed the juice to Lewis then sat beside him on the bed.

“No fishing today too much to talk about, besides I have a bit of a hangover myself, it was your scotch – not accustomed to mixing beer and spirits.”

If the sight of Billy’s nakedness hadn’t given Lewis rise, Billy’s words did and it showed and Lewis didn’t attempt to hide the fact.

“And what would that be Billy McKee?” Lewis asked grinning widely.

“Firstly call me Will, I’ve never liked Billy and most only use it to insult.

“Okay Will tell all – what have you in mind.”

“I said things last night I’ve never said before to anyone,” he paused took a breath, “now it scares the crap outa’ me that you will reject it all and bring me undone,” his tone came filled with concern, knowing if it hadn’t been for the alcohol he would have never been so forward.

“Will, the only thing about last night is I can’t believe you have any interest in someone like me and likewise if it hadn’t been for the drink, I most probably would have bolted in fear,” Lewis answered, “but how did you realise I would accept?” he continued.

“Just a hunch or more to the point I often watched you at the pub when you were with Ian. He wasn’t interested in you but you were in him and it was quite obvious and I think I was often a little jealous of him.” Billy rose from the bed standing with his dick only inches from Lewis’ face how Lewis wanted to reach up and take hold but in his short life he had never made that first move and shyness held him back. Billy collected the empty glass and started for the door, “another one?”

“You’re still the barman? Yes please.”

Returning with a refill Billy continued; “also that day in Atherton when you and your cousin caught me with that barmaid, you didn’t once look at her but couldn’t keep your eyes off me,” Billy laughed and jumped back into the bed, pulling the sheet up close to his chin as if playing coy, he placed his head to one side saying, “true?”

“Suppose so, sorry”

“Don’t be sorry I liked it.”

“So what now?” Lewis asked, sounding like a virgin girl being seduced by a man of the world, “I’ve never sucked a dick or anything like that.” Lewis added in almost protest.

“Neither have I.” Said Billy

“I’ve only been sucked,” said Lewis.

“Same here.”

Now that proverbial fish was out of water gasping for words and they weren’t coming. It took Billy to take the initiative and with a scoop he gathered Lewis close, holding his face cheek to cheek, he laughed softly into Lewis’ ear and said, “I could treat you like a sheila.”

Gary’s stories are all about what life in Australia was like for a homosexual man (mostly, long before we used the term, “gay”). Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Gary dot Conder at CastleRoland dot Net

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