Published: 10 Oct 2019
The trip to Atherton was executed almost without dialogue. Liz was much too occupied with Billy to contribute conversation, while Lewis was lost in a sea of anxiety towards his vehicle. Every ping, every rattle every bump brought him to the belief his new, second hand car was ready to disassemble itself along the way, while continuously checked the mirror to see what he had lost to the road.
Although Lewis’ mechanical knowledge was frail, it was well compensated by the many stories he had heard about second hand cars and their faults and how a handful of grease disguised many problems by the seller.
“Can you hear that?” he asked of Liz as he passed over the wooden bridge at Rocky Creek.
“No,” She replied disinterestedly.
“It’s gone now.” Lewis continued. “It was a,” he broke sentence realising he couldn’t describe the sound.
“Ah road-resonance,” he smiled as the vehicle crossed a second wooden bridge, once more bringing the same sound to his ears. He had heard of such resonance but had no idea what it would be but had to be as the salesman told him when he took a test drive of the vehicle. “What was that noise,” Lewis had asked of the salesman, “Don’t worry about that lad it’s only resonance, all cars have it new or used.” ‘Possibly so,’ Lewis had thought but had never before heard that exact sound in other vehicles.
“Lewis there isn’t anything wrong with the silly car so stop your paranoia!” Said Liz with a bored sigh as they crossed the railway line at Tolga then entered the small stretch of tropical forest left un-cleared to bring joy to the hearts of southern tourists. “Do you know Beatrice Street?” Liz asked as they cleared the forest and entered into Atherton.
“I once lived in that street,” Lewis surprisingly answered on making a left turn past the Athnut peanut factory, “Is that where Billy’s relations live?” he added.
“Yes they are at twenty-seven.”
“That’s the Gilford house.”
“Clem Gilford is Billy’s uncle.”
“I know Clem, not a bad bloke; he works at the logging mill.” Lewis admitted.
“I don’t know him,” Liz displayed her usual indifference.
“Why are you chasing McKee up to Atherton?” Lewis asked as he pulled up outside of the house.
“Don’t know really, I’m just bored I suppose,” she answered.
“How long is McKee up here for anyway?”
“He has a week off work,” Liz answered as she fiddled with the door handle; it was loose and came away in her hand. She held it up towards Lewis.
“I’ll have to fix that.”
“I think you’ve bought yourself a lemon.”
“It’s only a burred screw.”
“It’s only a lemon.”
“So you couldn’t wait a week to see him, you must be in love, or more to the point wish to catch him at it.”
“At what Lewis?”
“As I said, he does have a reputation.”
“You’re not coming in are you?” Liz questioned as Lewis prepared to open his door.
“Only to say hello.”
“Why you don’t even like him?”
“Curious I suppose.”
“And then you will go?”
“Maybe.”
Liz was first out of the car and quickly through the gate of twenty-seven, leaving Lewis to follow like a well trained puppy but one as if scalded for peeing on the carpet.
“I’d rather you didn’t come in.” Liz paused and faced Lewis now close at her heels.
“As I said I’m curious, I’ll only stay a minute – I’ll say hello and go.”
“You promise.”
“Almost promise – no I won’t stay – besides McKee will most likely toss me out.”
“Then take your own advice and don’t.”
“As I said a few seconds and I’ll remain behind on the verandah.” Lewis continued following his cousin up the stairs to the verandah. Why he could not say, possibly it was to prove he had no fear of Billy, or to show a measure of gallantry towards Liz by letting McKee realise someone was looking after her.
The house was a typical Queenslander with stairs leading up to a set of gates at the verandah entry. Although the gates were closed the front door was wide open and as they approached sounds could be heard from the first room along the broad polished hallway. Sunlight caught the polish giving a blinding glare as Liz lightly knocked on the ruby glass beside the open door.
No answer.
“It appears no one is at home.” Lewis suggested and was about to leave.
A second and louder rap of knuckles;
“Shit!” A startled male voice met the two followed by a scurry. It was McKee and naked supporting the proudest erection Lewis had every seen while behind him, startled and embarrassed stood the barmaid from Atherton’s own Royal Hotel and equally naked, with one arm across her breasts, the other hiding her blond pubic bush.
Alas the timing for the two could not have been worse, they had commenced their folly in the living room, leaving their clothing behind had rumbled their way to the spare bedroom to the front of the house. Billy’s room was to the rear while their eagerness was too great to travel the extra distance and seeing they would have the house for the day, had no fear of being caught in the act.
Now distant from their discarded clothes they remained naked, with the intruders blocking access.
“Liz meet -” Billy turned to the terrified barmaid and clicked his fingers as she hid herself behind the bedroom door, “hey girl what’s your name?” he cheekily asked of the barmaid. She didn’t answer, “never mind,” laughed Billy as he arrogantly, walked towards Liz and Lewis now blocking his way to his clothes.
Liz somewhat shocked by the experience turned away, while Lewis continued his stare. The two parted allowing Billy passage while the barmaid remained concealed behind the door. The rumours relating to Billy’s wayward character were now most definitely validated, as were those referring to his endowment and as he walked it swayed from side to side from its ginger, honey-blond forest which ran from his belly button, past his pride.
The two parted giving Billy passage, leaving Liz to scurry to the verandah and the stairs, while Lewis remained watching Billy’s retreat. Billy paused and glared back at Lewis. “Better run along boy and comfort your cousin, or I’ll give you what’s left in my sack up-ya’ arse!” Billy softly threatened with a smirk but lacking in displeasure. Yet a moment longer Lewis lingered until Billy was gone from sight.
As McKee retraced the hall to retrieve his clothes, Lewis remained captivated by his nakedness, completely forgetting his distraught cousin who had fled to the car, encapsulating herself away with her hurt and disgust. With McKee now out of sight, Lewis turned away and rejoined his cousin.
If the drive to Atherton lacked meaningful dialogue, the return trip was executed in silence, with Liz sitting cross-armed and stoned faced, her gaze unwavering from the road and its dividing line ahead of the car. As for Lewis he was somewhat amused with the farce and as each kilometre dissolved beneath the car’s wheels, he drew closer to stating, I tried to warn you, but remained devoted to Liz’s silence.
Occasionally Lewis glanced across towards Liz and was surprised by her reactions. There was a lacking of tears or any emotion of one betrayed, truthfully the further they travelled from the scene of crime the more normal she appeared and on the occasion she even appeared to smile.
“Lewis, turn on the radio,” she asked as the Walkman Research Station passed by their window.
“You’re closer,” Lewis answered with a smirk. Liz leaned across the inner space of the vehicle and turned the knob of the radio but there wasn’t any sound. “Where’s the on switch?” she asked twisting the knob this way and that without receiving response, while Lewis’ smirk turned into a chuckle.
“It doesn’t work.”
“Funny boy!” Liz rebuked as she recoiled back into her seat, she sighed and again crossed her arms, turning her gaze towards the new crop of tobacco growing in the fields along the road.
“Are you alright?” Lewis asked believing a measure of empathy would be shrewd.
“What do you think Lewis?”
“I did try to warn you.”
“Alright enough, it doesn’t matter.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s it with you Lewis, always apologising for no reason.”
“Sorry,” Lewis repeated but felt no apology, as visions of McKee’s nudity returned, remaining there for the continuation of the journey. As for Liz’s discomfort, it more pleased Lewis than else and he mused in the glow of her discontent. For once she was receiving the treatment she reserved for him but revenge wasn’t sweet as he did feel a measure of empathy towards her.
Oddly over the following days Liz didn’t mention McKee once, nor did she venture near the hotel where he worked but the Atherton experience didn’t prevent Lewis from calling into the Royal for a quick drink, being sure to do so during Billy’s shift and from his favourite corner he spotted McKee. He was on his break and standing behind a well developed brunette, massaging her shoulders with his broad powerful hands. She was obviously enjoying the attention, almost purring like a contented kitten under his touch, then with a cheeky chuckle a hand slipped under the front of her bra to roughly cress a nipple hiding below. The brunette softly complained while removing Billy’s hand, “maybe later if you’re a good boy!” she promised as Billy slapped her lightly on the back.
“I’ll keep you to that promise,” he said as he returned to his work.
On returning to the bar Billy noticed Lewis. He winked while collecting a towel and began to dry glasses. “How’s your cousin?” he asked from the sound of the clatter of glass against metal tray. He roughly stacked the tray to one side.
“She’s good,” Lewis answered attempting to sound as distant as possible.
“Why the hell did you drive her up to Atherton?”
“She asked me to.”
“You of all people should have known better.” Billy argued.
“Why would that be.”
“No matter.”
“No she’s fine with it I assure you.” Lewis justified.
“She’d be better if she sat on my dick,” McKee gave a quick head nod in support of the thought while pulling a beer and passing it to a young farmer who mischievously joined with his folly.
“She’s not that kind of girl,” Lewis protested with uncertainty, realising he really didn’t know what kind of girl his cousin was, as although she came across as a well seasoned woman of the world, she was extremely prudish and recoiled from anything sexually aimed towards her.
“Listen mate take my word, they are all that type of girl. Show them a big dick and the go moist,” McKee quietly laughed. Lewis didn’t answer but there was something in Billy’s way of talking and his smile that was affecting him. Now with the memory of McKee naked in the Beatrice Street passage he felt a crowding in the crotch of his pants which flushed his face with an embarrassing colour, displaying his very thoughts as if they were pinned to the hotel’s notice board for public exhibit.
Lewis’ discomfort didn’t pass McKee who quickly responded. “Hey you’re looking a bit faint, maybe all this girl talk is too much for you?” he paused, “you should get some night air before you pass out.” Lewis quickly shook away his thoughts while reneging on the suggestion for the need of air. “I’m not her keeper McKee – you will have to talk to her yourself,” he firmly answered.
“Na I would rather root you, she’s too stuck up.” McKee hissed close to Lewis’ ear and moved away.
Maybe it was Billy’s menacing attitude that was attracting Lewis but something deep down was stirring and he didn’t much like it, also it was the third time the barman had threatened to penetrate him and on no occasion did his threat appear to carry malice.
McKee appeared to be everything evil in a young man and was becoming magnetic. A moth to naked flame Lewis became, as he reclined into his corner at the end of the bar watching the ginger haired barman at his trade. McKee had a slow and calculating movement like that of a great cat, as if each action was kept to a minimum to preserve his energy for sexual achievement, which was all he seemed to live for – but he could move. As a lad and during his final school holiday from Herberton, Lewis had somehow angered his ginger aggressor, then tried to out run Billy but even from distance Billy ran him down and effortlessly wrestling him to the ground, then while pinning with his arse on Lewis’s chest, Billy reached behind and took hold of everything buried deep in a loose fitting pair of shorts, “You fucking sorry Smith!” Billy grunted while squeezing Lewis’ privates.
“For what McKee,” Lewis had protested as Billy’s tightened his grip.
“I said are you sorry.”
“Yes, I’m sorry!” Lewis bellowed feeling a sharp pain stab at the centre of his gut.
“How sorry?” McKee had demanded in sadistic whisper.
“Very sorry,” Lewis answered his voice gone and almost inaudible, while tears of pain ran from the corner of his eyes and tickled as they entered his ears.
“Smith you get an erection on me, I’ll rip the fucking lot off!” McKee hissed while holding his grip.
Lewis remembered the incident well and that he had become erect from the invasion, finding it strange Billy didn’t rip or release his hold. Factually Billy appeared to have been enjoying the moment, even if it was only for sadistic gratification.
Now seated at his end of the bar Lewis had come to the belief that McKee would root him or any hole that was on offer without hesitation or concern and without loosing his masculinity. To his ginger adversary it would be nothing more than hedonistic sexual relief.
Occasionally Billy would glance towards Lewis. His fixation wasn’t one of interest but more akin to that of a wild animal keeping check on some rival. Towards the night’s end he approached Lewis and gave what could be explained to be a poor impression of a friendly smile, “Want a final beer Smith?” he asked without showing his usual aggression, while holding an empty glass beneath Four-X beer tap.
“No thanks, I’ve had enough” Lewis declined as McKee filled the glass and pushed it across the bar towards him disregarding his wishes.
“It’s on the house,” McKee declared as he wiped away a spill from the bar top. Lewis reluctantly accepted the beer more from fear than gratitude and sipped from the frothy beverage.
“What’s that cousin of yours up to?” McKee asked, as he turned to attend to a new tray of freshly washed glasses. His enquiry appeared to be genuine and unaffected by their previous encounter, as if the Atherton occurrence had ended positively.
“She’s seeing Ian.” Lewis lied, speaking from the froth, while leaving a white moustache above his lip. He wiped it away.
“You mean that beanpole who works with you?” McKee doubtfully asked.
“That’s him.”
“What does she seen in him?”
“I don’t rightly know but she seems to like him,” Lewis again lied as he downed half his beer then timidly pushed the remainder aside.
“Well he must have something that I don’t!” McKee smirked as he took the ample bulge in the front of his tight fitting jeans in both hands and sexually pumped into them.
“Could be mate – I have to go.” Lewis concluded and commenced to depart.
“Say hello to Liz for me,” McKee sarcastically called after. Lewis didn’t return answer.
The liquid atmosphere of a warm Mareeba night with the effects of alcohol transported Lewis home in a sea of confidence. He felt as if he could leap from the tallest building then fly back to the soft and giving earth beneath with gentle ease. Again his thoughts returned to McKee, it was true he had a healthy fear of Billy but he was also developing a spark of fondness. ‘Why?’ he mentally questioned as he passed Loves Buildings and glanced upwards towards its dark verandah, remembering how often it had been his bedroom, recalling many school holidays with Gladys King and those innocent days without the anxiety that adulthood brought.
As quickly the thought was gone and Billy McKee was swept away by the innocence of his youthful past, a time when life appeared simpler, when sex was a hand in the dark without the trappings of emotion, without the confusion in the pit of his gut.
“Hey white fella’ gotta’ smoke?” The gravelled voice carried from middle street beneath the plantation of mango trees. Lewis turned towards the interruption as grievance broke amongst the group of aborigines sleeping off their grog.
Lewis thought of their plight and how the white invasion had lowered their value below human, almost to being but animals. Now gone was their pride, replaced by tobacco and alcohol as they hung around the fringes of white society now neither black nor white. Not all natives were so and gradually they were becoming accepted, even if it was only through white man’s guilt towards previous treatment.
“Sorry mate – don’t smoke.” Lewis answered somewhat apologetically.
“Ya’ cunt,” a second voice interjected.
“Yea sure mate, a cunt but they are useful, what about you,” Lewis comically answered as others in the group complained for being disturbed.
Lewis paced a few more steps and a third gave voice. “Got any grog mate?”
Lewis paused, “don’t you think you have had enough?” he called across the street as the police van cruised past. At the Graham Hotel corner it paused and turned, slowly returning to the group of natives. A new cop unknown to Lewis called from the van. “You lot get over the other side of town or I’ll run you in for the night.” There was a murmur of discontent within the group but none commenced to move. As the new man was about to leave the vehicle his associate spoke to him and there was a change of mind. The van instead drove away, did an about turn, once again past the natives and slowly drove up to Lewis as he reached the Graham Hotel corner. It stopped.
“What about you Lewis, what are you up to?” It was Bob Ryan, one of the town’s regular constables.
“Going home Mr. Ryan.”
“You haven’t been drinking have you?”
“One beer at the Royal but I’m almost twenty-one,” It was a lie and the policeman knew better.
“Don’t lie, off you go and straight to your bed.”
“Yes Mr Ryan.”
The van commenced to move away and as it did so, Lewis distinctly heard the new cop mention running him in for underage drinking and Ryan’s answer that Lewis was a good kid. Lewis smiled, turned the Graham corner and headed for home.
Wednesday – 28th July 1966.Ran into McKee at the Royal and he enquired after Liz but acted as if nothing had happened when we visited him in Atherton.
He gave me a free beer and was as insulting as usual but had a rare softness; possibly he isn’t the cunt we credit him to be. Still I wouldn’t trust him, as it would be like befriending a snake, no matter how kind you are to it; eventually it will bite you.
“Have you heard the latest!?” Liz interrupted Lewis from the doorway, bringing him to fright.
“Shit Liz can’t you do anything without dramatising it!?” Lewis gasped turning in his chair to face his cousin. She looked happy, to a point she could be considered ecstatic.
“What’s got you so excited?” Lewis asked after his heart returned to its normal rate.
“Billy McKee has gone!” She paused then calmed, “he’s been called up for national service. He’s in the army.” Another pause and Liz continued at a more normal pace.
“I thought he was older than twenty.”
“He turned twenty-one two months back,” Liz said; “they were a little late processing him. He left for Townsville yesterday and didn’t tell anyone.”
“You appear to know a lot about a bloke you don’t like.” Lewis assumed.
“He told me some time back.”
This to Liz was divine retribution. With one roll of the dice Billy was not only removed from her life but from the town and with morbid pleasure she added; “with some luck the Viet-con will get him!”
“Do you wish him dead?” Lewis asked not believing his cousin could be so callous as to wish him so.
“Well roughed up a little, maybe the army will knock some sense into him.”
Celebration came uneasy for Lewis. He feigned agreement with the news to disguise his thoughts but it left him with an empty feeling. Fear of McKee was prudent, yet he was developing synonymy towards his adversary, realising there was possibly more to McKee than devilment. There was also his building attraction towards McKee, which he pushed down to the depths of his psyche each time it attempted to rise and since the offer of a free beer it rose more frequently. One thing he did conceive, with the barman gone his veiled feelings should lessen.
“You will have to find someone else to pine over,” Lewis suggested with a sarcastic smirk, believing his words would antagonise his cousin but to his disappointment she appeared impassive.
“There are plenty of others,” Liz answered affirmatively, as if mocking his contribution to a continuing trite conversation.
“Then who is the unlucky fellow?” Lewis teased.
“Your friend Ian for a start,” She offered.
“You don’t like Ian and you said he was too young for you!” The words sprang from Lewis without censorship.
Once again someone was trying to take away a friend and if Ian and Liz did connect and with the permanency of a relationship there would be little room left for Lewis. A wave of self pity now engulfed him and he fell silent as he bathed in its agony.
“Possibly I’ve changed my mind. He is sort of good looking and benign.” Liz said leaning her head to one side as if trawling through her vocabulary for a more suited expression.
“Benign? I bet you don’t even know what that means and I assure your Ian isn’t benign.”
“Maybe benign isn’t a good description,” she paused and continued, “what I mean is he thinks of others and doesn’t do all the blokie things.”
“Are we describing the same person?”
“He’s different with girls,” Liz assured.
“Benign,” Lewis repeated, followed by a disregarding huff.
“I’m seeing him Friday night.”
Lewis fell silent becoming despondent. He could not find the words to utter and if there were any they would only betray him. Now he sat watching the yard outside his bedroom window. He was beyond the grime of glass and divorced from Liz and her description of his friend. Instead he was at play with the neighbour’s dog, as it chased sparrows through a hole in the fence. Lewis laughed loudly as the dog tangled within a rusting half roll of wire netting, sending it in yelping flight to the underside of the tank stand.
“What’s so funny?” Liz asked.
“I was watching the stupid black mongrel from next door,” he explained then returned to her conversation. “If you don’t like blokie attitude, then why did you go out with Billy McKee,” he questioned. For once Liz developed more sensible attitude.
“I don’t rightly know,” she said, giving her head a light shake before continuing, “Possibly it was his devilment – it’s magnetic and draws you in. Maybe the danger of it all, like a moth drawn to the nightlight,” she paused and giving her analogues final reflection she continued, “anyway he out of my life now and Mareeba’s girls can sleep easy.” Then she was gone leaving Lewis to ponder over her intention of a relationship with Ian.
Possibly Ian would not be interested in Liz but this was difficult to believe as Ian often referred to her with extended eagerness. Once again benign came to mind with a private smile towards his cousin’s description. “Benign,” he said loudly followed by an equally loud huff and once again repeated the word knowing Ian could be as crude as the next. As for McKee’s magnetism, that was well proven; he also suffered the pull of Billy’s character. He had been that moth and had his weak wings singed, leaving him a little more confused each time. Now with McKee’s departure he could return to the social order he expected of himself. Liz returned.
“I went for my licence.”
“How did you go?” Lewis asked.
“Unlike you I passed first time, can I borrow your car?”
“I’ll think about it, when are you returning home to Georgetown?” Lewis innocently asked as she silently lingered for his agreement.
“Why?”
“No reason, I thought you were having a holiday.”
“I won’t be going home. There isn’t anything in Georgetown for me, besides I have been offered an apprentice hair dressing position at Leanne Blake’s salon up near the Masterson Hotel.”
“I know where it is, Leanne is married to my mechanic – has the service station on the Atherton Road.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me Lewis?”
“Of course not, I wondered that’s all.” Truthfully he did have expectations Liz’s holiday was coming to an end as it had been designed she would be staying no more than a month, possibly two but now she appeared to be well satisfied with life in Mareeba.
“Was Ian at the hostel with you?” Liz remained at the door.
“No why, I thought he told you he was from Townsville?” Lewis suggested believing after a number of dates, Liz would have known most of Ian’s past life. Hopeful not all and excluding his occasional servicing of Ian’s sexual need.
“Something he said. What was the hostel like with all those boys?”
“Also girls,” Lewis quickly included.
“Yes but they were segregated. Have you a girlfriend?”
“I told you I haven’t been back from Melbourne long. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, only something Ian said.” Liz gave a slight huff and prepared to depart company. Lewis now became interested and challenged his cousin to quantify her claim.
“What did he say?” Lewis kept his question as indifferent as possible but it was more than obvious Liz was testing him.
“Not actually said but insinuated, doesn’t matter, more than likely I misunderstood.”
Lewis allowed the conversation to digress from Liz’s so call insinuation but he would challenge Ian on their next visit, “When do you start your apprenticeship?” He asked.
“Next week, Auntie Winnie put in a word for me.”
“Mum knows most of the business people in town.”
“I thought you said you were returning to Melbourne?” Liz asked.
“Possibly soon, I haven’t decided when, besides buying the car means I will need to work a while to pay for it.”
“Auntie Winnie said you won’t be doing so.”
“Did she, what else do you talk with mum about me.”
“Nothing, only I mentioned I would love to visit grandma some day and she suggested we could go down together for a holiday.”
“Would you like to do so?” Lewis asked knowing full well he would not wish travel with Liz.
“I don’t think so, besides it would not be in the near future, possibly a year or two.”
Lewis stood to leave the room, “well,” he said when there was little more to contribute to the conversation.
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
27,326 views