Published: 7 Nov 2019

“How was your weekend?” asked Lewis of Ian at morning tea. His friend had been late for work and as yet hadn’t returned the car, nor had Lewis seen Liz that morning. She had a roster day off from work and would be sleeping in.

“I haven’t been to bed yet.” Ian complained through the steam of his tea cup, while soothing his blood-shot eyes with its warmth.

Immediately Lewis plunged headlong into panic mode, with an expanding picture of his vehicle in pieces along the Bruce Highway or wrapped around a tree and waiting to be towed to some obscure wrecking yard.

“Your bloody car broke down!” Ian croaked. Returning the empty mug to the lunchroom table he gave a sympathy seeking yawn. Sympathy did not eventuate; Lewis was much too concerned for the condition of his car, to empathize with Ian, which didn’t go un-noticed, giving Ian a rise in irritation at his friend’s lack of consideration.

“What happened!?” asked Lewis nervously.

“Never mind the bloody car; we had to hitch-hike back.” Growled Ian realising that Lewis was more interested in the vehicle than his well-being. Lewis remained silent waiting for the dreaded explanation, his mouth a gape and with his supply of brain-blood draining away from where it was most needed, his entire face began to prickle as he became sheet white.

“Don’t panic you’re car’s alright, it’s only the electrics and dad will have it fixed by the weekend,” Ian divulged after a lengthy pause to create the maximum panic in his friend. It had worked and as relief returned to Lewis’ face he re-gained the ability to speak.

“How am I going to get to Townsville to collect it?” he asked anxiously.

“Again don’t panic, I have arranged with a cousin from Malanda to give Liz and I a lift down, we will bring it back next weekend.” Ian smiled as some form of normality returned to his morning and the effects of not sleeping were put on hold until night returned.

“You and your cousins,” said Lewis, “how many do you have?” he added quickly.

“Many, we were a randy lot in our family.” Ian laughed and finished his sandwich.

‘A randy lot,’ resonated in Lewis’ thinking as he returned to work, while his thoughts circled around the budding relationship between Ian and Liz. “I bet he’s rooting her,” he mumbled while passing through hardware allowing a wave of jealousy to eat into his sensibility. It wasn’t the suspected sexual appetite of either Liz or Ian that caused his displeasure but the distance that was developing between him and his friend. It was his vehicle and he wasn’t included in its recovery, that did bother and for a few pence he would discontinue further lending of the car. Lewis could see far enough into the future and a relationship which would exclude him except for birthdays and special occasions and there was nothing he could do about it.

“So what did you do over the weekend other than work?” Ian asked that evening as they left for home.

“That’s about as exciting as it got,” said Lewis, keeping his visit to Ashley quiet. Any fear Ashley would tell Ian of his visit had dispelled with Ashley’s refusal to answer his request about suspected advances towards Ian, feeling safe his visit would not be divulged, “I worked and went home,” he added and laughed away his annoyance about his vehicle.

“If you had nothing to do you should have give Ashley a visit.” Ian innocently suggested.

“Why would I do that I hardly know him.”

“Only a thought, the old bugger likes company,” Ian laughed.

“He isn’t all that old.” Lewis protested without believing his opposition.

“True but he would be my father’s age and probably your father’s.”

“My dad’s dead,” Lewis quickly answered.

“Dead?”

“As good as, I had never met him; he cleared out in Melbourne a short while after I was born.”

“Sorry for being insensitive.”

“No worries, you can’t miss someone you’ve never met.” Lewis answered without showing emotion for the suggested demise of a parent.

“So who is John to you?”

“Mum’s boyfriend, he wants to marry mum but she said until I reached twenty-one no man was going to have control of me.”

“Good fella’ John, I did wonder why he is Simpson and you are Smith.” Ian concluded.

“On Saturday night I did see a couple of school friends booked by that new cop, the skinny one with attitude,” Lewis recalled as normality came back to his mood, while giving full narration of the event which continued until they reached the Graham Hotel corner.

“Are you working Saturday afternoon?” Ian asked as they parted.

“Suppose – so are you.”

“Not anymore Cookie showed a little sympathy and that’s why I didn’t include you in the pick up, I’ll go down to Townsville Friday night.” Ian explained from the middle of Hort Street, while dodging between two cars. “See ya!” he shouted from the adjacent footpath.

Ian’s reason lowered Lewis’ anxiety to a level he could manage but there was still the premature loss of a friend to deal with. He felt like a member of the family was dying by degrees and he was at a loss how to grieve or get on with his life. It was the way of things he regressed. People grow up and leave home. He had, even if he did returned but he knew he would leave again one day. Maybe this was a good time for him to return to Melbourne.

Now Lewis was feeling remorse. In general he wasn’t inclined to depression. It was true he was good at sulking, which generally only lasted for a short while but the notion of losing friendship or changes in the character or relationship between those around him lowered his wellbeing towards the nature of the black dog then as quickly it would be gone and happier thoughts of past days, of horses and bush life would prevail.

Relaxing on his bed in the dark of night, Lewis ran through his options over and over but always returned to the same conclusion. He was caught in a bind and would have to live with the outcome. Ian would marry Liz and most probably move from Mareeba and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

Three letters had arrived for Lewis that day, one was the bill for his car payment, now overdue but he would pay it in the morning, the second some advertising material, while the third was from Sarah, declaring how much she loved him and was missing his company. Also she would be back in Townsville that weekend as her sister no longer had need of her, finding another to look after her boys while in hospital and hoped he would come down with Ian. With the wish also her admiration for Liz and how fortunate Ian had been to find such a lovely girl and lucky Lewis was to have her as a cousin. ‘For sure you don’t know her,’ Lewis thought as he skipped over that remark.

Lewis quickly wrote back with apology, he would be working on the Saturday and that there were problems with his car, explaining how Ian would be picking up the vehicle, so he would have to visit another time and how he missed her humour but at conclusion he became disturbed. He had finalised his letter with Love Lewis, which didn’t sit well with him. Lewis stared at the page for a time then commenced to rewrite his letter, this time concluding with, your friend Lewis, as he could not bring himself to the lie about his love. Then after conclusion tore up the second draft and reverted to the original, thinking that the word friend was much too formal.

“Who are you writing to?” asked Liz from Lewis’ bedroom door, causing him to jump.

“For god’s sake Liz!” he snarled as he folded the letter before placing it in an envelope, “how many times do I have to tell you stop creeping up on people!” Licking the envelope he answered, “Sarah.”

“You like her.”

“That’s a silly question.”

“I don’t think so, you never talk about her.”

Lewis changed the subject. “Did I tell you I’m thinking of joining the Army?” he announced, placing the envelope aside.

“Why bother, you most probably will be called up in the draft.”

“In that case I may as well get it over with early.”

“You are a funny fellow Lewis Smith.”

“In what way do you mean?”

“Only most do as much as possible to avoid being called up.”

“Well there you go, I’m a funny fella’.”

Lewis was dishonest with his Cousin about his intentions to join the army and felt comfortable in doing so, yet he couldn’t tell someone he loved them when he didn’t. His intention to join the army was issued for a higher purpose, it was meant to be related back to Ian and bring him to realise the value of their friendship. Liz thought for a moment then spoke.

“If you do so can Ian look after your car?”

“Well if I do, I’ll need the car in Townsville,” Lewis assured believing taking away its use would clip their wings.

“Why Townsville?” she asked inquisitively.

“That’s where the base is, or one of them. Then again maybe I’ll be sent to Brisbane or even Puckapunyal in Victoria.”

Lewis was attempting to extract sympathy from his Cousin but without success. Now he began to believe that Ian would be of the same opinion and wished he hadn’t created such an illusion.

“I think Ian is going to by a car anyway,” Liz stated nonchalantly with a slight huff as she turned to leave.

“Since when? He didn’t tell me that!” Lewis barked at his Cousin.

“He doesn’t tell you everything. I hope.” Liz said with a grin.

“Where is he getting the money to buy it?” Asked Lewis.

“It’s his Cousins Sixty-one EK, Stan is buying a Ford and he’s almost giving the Holden to Ian.” There was scorn in Liz’s voice, as if stating her claim on Ian and warning Lewis off as a rival. He went cold and tried to settle again with humour.

“Another cousin, how many cousins does he have?”

“I don’t know but some people have too many cousins,” Liz cut short.

“What does that mean?”

“Aunty Winnie is looking for you; she is out the back of the shop with Auntie Gladys.”

“So they are once again friends,” Lewis gave a bold grin while placing aside the rivalry with his cousin.

“Suppose so – why?”

“It doesn’t matter, you do realise she isn’t our aunt.”

“Of course I do but I was taught manners.”

“Shame you don’t use them on me,” Lewis mumbled as he left the room.

“What did you say?”

“Not worth the repeat Liz, I assure you.”

Ashley was on the late shift, so Lewis deemed it safe to visit Ian, gently tapping on the partly opened bungalow door on arrival, “visitor,” he called and entered.

“You didn’t say you were coming around.”

“I had nothing to do so I thought, why not annoy you.”

“Good, do you want to go to the pub?” Ian suggested and prepared to leave.

“Na, maybe tomorrow,” Lewis paused, “you didn’t tell me you were buying a car,” he questioned.

“Oh Liz has been talking? That’s girls for you the cant help themselves.” He released an ironic grin and continued, “I have been offered Stan’s old EK but I haven’t made up my mind. It’s a good car and you know how I like that model but Stan is prone to thrash his vehicles.”

Lewis accepted his friends reasoning.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to join the army,” Ian stated in a low calculated tone. If Lewis could accuse for not sharing then so could Ian and getting even was his speciality.

“Oh, Liz does have a lot to say. It was only a thought as I’m growing tired of Jack and Newells and I’d probably be called up in the draft anyway” Lewis took in a deep breath, “why don’t we both join?”

“No thank you!” It was Ian’s turn to take a breath then after a pensive pause he continued and by his serious expression Lewis knew he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear.

“Lewis, I am going to marry Liz and I have more information even Liz doesn’t know yet, so don’t you go blabbing.”

“So when is the wedding?” Lewis brightly enquired while on the inside he was hurting but could not share his hurt, least of all with Ian.

“I haven’t asked her yet, I’m waiting for the right moment,” he laughed and as quickly returned to solemn.

“What if she refuses?” Lewis hopefully asked.

“She won’t.”

“And what is the other news?”

“I’m getting there, are you sure you wouldn’t like to go for a drink?”

“I’m not in the mood – go on.”

“The boss has asked me if I want to work at the Townsville store and I’ve said yes.”

“What about…” Lewis cut and as quickly stopped, realising he was about to make a fool of himself, as he was on the verge of questioning their friendship.

“So if you did join the army you would probably be based in Townsville and could visit,” Ian continued.

“Visit?”

“Whenever you wish and I think you would strike a fine figure in uniform but can’t imagine you marching up and down carrying a heavy pack.”

“I’m stronger than I appear.”

“So what do you think?”

“About me joining the army or you marrying Liz?”

“Both I guess.”

“As I said I’m not joining, it was only a thought and I didn’t think Liz would tell everyone,” Ian’s news chocked Lewis being thankful for the dim lighting in the bungalow and his friend’s interest in his magazine. He shook the mood with a fake smile. “When do you start in Townsville?”

“First week of next month,” Ian answered.

“That soon?”

“Yep, at first I’ll stay with my parents and if Liz agrees,” Ian displayed a projected eagerness, “then she will join me.”

After his visit with Ian, Lewis progressed to the Main Street and walked its length. Past the Graham, he would join the army. Past the Royal he was on his way back to Melbourne and on reaching the Dunlop, he was lacking in any intention at all. He wanted to talk to someone but lacked trust in anyone. How could he talk to family and friends about something he didn’t understand; on reaching street’s end he was only sure of one thing and that was the following weekend, while Ian was in Townsville collecting the car, he would take the train up to Herberton and see if his old school mates were fairing better than he.

Lewis had not visited the hostel for some time and wasn’t even sure if any would remain there. He had asked Thompson and Dunn if they had seen any of the old gang before they were pinched for speeding but neither had been anywhere near Herberton nor had intention to do so and it had been his chance meeting with them that awakened the urge to revisit.

That week went slowly for Lewis; he found his time at work with Ian most difficult, as was living with Liz. She said nothing about Ian’s move to Townsville, suggesting Ian hadn’t yet given her the news, as knowing Liz she would have been most eager to spread the tidings almost at the speed of their utterance, so Lewis thought best to honour his promise.

By the time Friday arrived Lewis was numb and was at the Royal when Ian and his Cousin Stan came to collect Liz, remaining there late, dazed emotionally in his corner, slumped over two beers while the only lift came from the arrival of Jim Murphy, a handsome half cast young man from across the tracks and appearing more white that that of his aboriginal ancestors.

At first the barman ignored Jim as he stood patiently to give his request. Lewis acknowledged the lad who smiled displaying a perfect set of white teeth and a twinkling of powder blue eyes. The lad again became serious and waited.

“What would you be waiting for?” Brian asked without making eye contact with Jim.

Politely the lad spoke, “it’s my uncle’s birthday.”

“Which uncle would that be Jimmy, you lot have so many uncles and aunties it’s impossible to keep track of them?”

“Uncle George – George Wilson,” the lad softly answered.

“Do you want me to come sing happy birthday for you?”

“I would like two long neck bottles of beer for a present.”

“This isn’t the bottle shop Jimmy, it’s around the back.”

“They won’t serve me.”

“And what makes you think I will, you know we aren’t allowed to serve blacks alcohol.”

“I’m half Irish, how about serving that part of me,” Jimmy hopefully smiled.

“Go on Jimmy bugger off – try the Dunlop.” Brian growled and moved away from the conversation leaving the lad most despondent. He lowered his head and commenced to leave.

“Wait a second Jim,” Lewis quietly paused the lad’s departure with a reassuring grip to Jim’s upper arm, “wait outside, I’ll get them for you.” The lad offered up his money. “Keep it.”

“Hey Brian I’ll be going but before so, could you give me a couple of long necks for the road,” Lewis placed his money on the bar as Brian searched for Jimmy.

“He’s gone,” Lewis assured.

“Two bottles you say Lewis?”

“That is what I said.”

“Having a party?”

“Could be.”

Brian reluctantly passed across the bottles, “small party,” he acknowledged.

“It looks that way, goodnight mate.”

Once outside Lewis passed the bottles to Jimmy and without further word continued on his way, feeling rather pleased with his good deed and now moderately excited about travelling back to Herberton on the following day. He would catch the early motor arriving there before lunch, allowing three hours for his visit before the return motor late in the afternoon.

The Graham Hotel’s lights were dim as he turned the corner for home with only a soft murmur coming from the rear beer garden. He paused then crossed the road in the opposing direction walking on towards Short Street.

“What are you doing?” he said loudly as he came upon Ashley’s house pausing at the front gate. There was a dull light burning in the hall as Lewis quietly walked up the stairs only to hesitate on the verandah. The door like everyone he knew was bolted against his dilemma but if he knocked, would Ashley be more kind to his quandary or mock his trouble and once again attempt to seduce his masculinity?

A hand rose as if to knock upon the flimsy timber of the fly-wire door but nervously hovered in silent announcement, then fell to his side as he turned and walked away. Alas although Lewis had grown to like Ashley, he could not chance him knowing his quandary, concluding there was some empathy between them but not enough for the man to become his confessor.

The Graham was now silent and in darkness, as was home, entering through the rear disturbed the neighbour’s dog; it gave a soft bark but little more. Quietly Lewis managed the passage to his room. Further along could be heard soft snoring as Winnie stirred at the mellowed footsteps but did not call, as was her tradition in acknowledgement of his return.

Once inside his room Lewis fell to the bed and reached for the newly obtained locked box beneath, opening it with a key held safe on a string around his neck. Inside the box was the diary, wrapped in the pair of unlaundered underpants he had removed from Ian’s bungalow, along with a small selection of worthless foreign coins, two medallions of imagined value and a collection of letters; all protected against their discovery by his cousin.

Lewis admired the box and its design, imagining when it may have come from. It had an island appearance, Maori from New Zealand, possibly Tahiti, or somewhere like that. It was a bargain for the little he gave. Although damaged at a hinge, a new screw soon made it appear as new.

Placing the box aside, Lewis opened the diary to the first blank page and reread the page before. He placed the pen to the virgin paper and wrote as if in a trance.

Friday – 24^th. Nov 1967

Went to the Royal but no one there –

Ian and Liz have gone to Townsville to collect my car. Ian is leaving to work in Townsville next month and again I am loosing a friend. As soon as I find friends they go. Sometime I wonder why I bother.

Off to Herberton by train tomorrow to see if there is any of the old gang still there.

Called past Ashley’s on the way home after the Royal but didn’t call in. I wanted to talk about things but don’t think I can trust him. I don’t think I can trust anyone. All I want to do is go away somewhere – anywhere.

As in a dream Lewis closed his diary, rewrapping it in Ian’s underwear then testing the boxes lock returned it under his bed. Sleep came slowly that night and when it finally arrived it brought with it dark dreams. Firstly Ian crashed the car on the return but it didn’t dent and no one was hurt and when he came to inspect the damage the vehicle was gone, in its place was a bicycle with a buckled wheel. Then it was Herberton’s turn and on arrival all his old friends were there but not one remembered him. He pleaded with them but they turned away without recollection. “It’s me Lewis he begged – Lewis Smith I sat next to you in our sub junior year,” a negative shake of the head, “all of you, I was here for all those years with you,” but his name and face remained alien to their captured world, he was no longer a hostel boy, not even a town’s boy but someone from a foreign destination.

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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