Published: 21 Apr 2025

Sunday – and the Thesis continues.

Kevin had contacted Wayne on the Sunday night after Neil departed to bring him up to speed and the first Wayne mention was his aversion towards disclosing anything that could be considered private but Kevin quickly assured he didn’t mention Wayne. Even so during the following week Kevin pondered on the wisdom but it was done and he was partly looking forward in having Neil for dinner but what should he prepare. Eventually Kevin decided on a leg of lamb with mint sauce and piles of roasted vegetables, being a meal somewhat unfashionable with the modern family as the cooking was time consuming.

It was once again Sunday with autumn sunshine playing with the dust through the rear windows.

‘I better do vacuuming.’

Kevin hadn’t done much cleaning since Wayne went to stay with his brother in Queensland. He didn’t like housework and as Wayne had an equal aversion the housework often went undone for weeks at a time, not to say the house was dirty, only dusty. Wayne had suggested they hire a cleaner but with the house more representing a museum it would be difficult having anyone agree to clean, especially at the going rates for a casual.

By the time the jug boiled for his morning cuppa’ Kevin was about with the vacuum cleaner deciding only to dust and tidy the back room and simply close his bedroom door against the pile of washing and unmade bed.

Ten thirty and the landline commenced its chirp.

“Yes.”

“It’s me,” Wayne says.

“I guessed so.”

“How; I hadn’t spoken.”

“Possibly because you said you would call this morning. How is Peter?”

“Improved but I agreed to stay another week. What are you up to?”

“Cleaning.”

“That’s not like you. Are you getting ready for your mate’s visit?”

“Yes Neil is coming this afternoon and staying for dinner.”

“What’s he like?”

“You would like him. He wears his pants so tight you can almost see his religion; as you often say he is very tactile.”

“Knowing how forward you are Kevin, I’m surprised you haven’t had his pants off by now.”

“Ha, I’d like to but it wouldn’t be right, besides he has a boyfriend.”

“He’s gay?”

“So he says.”

“That hasn’t prevented you in the past.”

“I think it would be like painting over a Rembrandt.”

“He’s that good?” Wayne asks.

“Better – if you haven’t anything more then I should get on with the cleaning.”

“How are my bonsais?”

“Surviving but the possums had a go at the camellia outside the back door last night. As for your bonsai’s I think this late in the season and ready to hibernate there isn’t enough nourishment for the possums.”

“Okay I’ll call you when I book the flight back.”

With the cleaning done and plenty of time before he needed to put on the roast Kevin fires up the computer and opens Word. Over the previous few years Kevin had taken to writing stores and publishing them on line at an American site Castle Roland. There wasn’t any numeration from the postings which didn’t matter as he only posted his stories to improve his poor use of the written language and keep his brain active. Kevin’s latest work was titled The Resilience of the Human Spirit, being partly historical with a slant towards fantasy. The story was almost ready for posting and Kevin had emailed a copy to Wayne for his opinion. As usual Wayne hadn’t even opened the file.

Kevin has a cousin interested in reading his work but each time Glen asked Kevin made an excuse, besides his cousin doesn’t have a computer and lives in Queensland being a good reason not to honour his request as he wasn’t going to waste three hundred sheets of paper by printing the work for posting.

Kevin smiles while remembering when Glen and he checked each other’s equipment when they were little tackers and his Aunt Mary with his mother declared they would take to them with a knife and cut them off.

‘I wonder if Glen remembers the occasion, he does remember calling our grandmother go away poopy bum when she visited in Hughenden, as the old lady took more notice of Kevin then glen. He also remembered breaking Kevin’s fire engine toy while visiting Dunluce.’

‘I should remind him.”

His thoughts remain with his cousin Glen.”

‘I could remind him in jest.”

Kevin inhales deeply. He isn’t in the mood for writing and closes down the computer.

“I don’t think so he’s been married twice but he was in the navy and there are plenty of stories about sailors.”

‘What would bringing up the past prove? Besides it may damage the close relationship we have developed over the last year or so.’

‘Dunluce’ Kevin thinks while remembering how easy life was as a young boy.

‘I must admit I did get into mischief.’

There is a memory of chickens.

‘Yes those poor chickens.’

“Misurables’” he says and laughs.

With nothing to do except cause mischief Kevin helped Mr. Lewis the Dunluce manager feed the chooks (chickens) and collect the eggs. One of the chooks had stopped laying and was sitting on a clutch of eggs being set apart from the rest. To view the hen it was necessary to enter into the chicken pen and during the following day Kevin wished to see if any of the chicks had hatched. He had already been warned to leave the hen alone but curiosity had the better of the lad then while no one was about he entered the pen but before he had travelled far he was eye to eye with a very noisy rooster that was blocking his exit, having only one escape being to climb the large roosting perch in the middle of the pen.

The perch was low to the ground at the back end and about two feet high at the front with perching rails at intervals from back to front. Reaching the top of the perch Kevin slipped becoming entangled in wire therefore he was precariously in reach of the very angry rooster.

After a great racket from Kevin and the rooster someone came to the rescue, issuing a second warning to keep away from the chicken coop.

Did Kevin heed the warning?

It seems not as within a few days the chickens had hatched and yet Kevin hadn’t seen them. By now the hen with her chicks were in a separate yard not to be disturbed by the rooster, so there wasn’t any fear of a repeat session with the rooster. Once inside the pen Kevin managed to corner the chickens while the hen flapped about in maternal protest with the rooster on the far side of the fence joining in with the ruckus. Kevin grabbed two of the chick and headed out of the pen. Unfortunately little boy’s hands can be clumsy and with the chickens’ struggle he managed to break a couple of legs.

What should he do?

The answer was simple he had seen horses with broken legs destroyed therefore he drowned the damaged chicks in the water trough.

Unfortunately it was difficult to hide the fact that two of the chickens were missing, or Kevin had been tampering with the enclosure latch, so he was challenged.

“Did you interfere with the chickens?”

“Yes.”

At least he owned up to the fact.

“What happened to them?”

“They were hurt so I put them outa’ their misurables.”

A stern ticking-off was issued but in time Kevin was forgiven.

Did Kevin lean a lesson?

Possibly so as that was the full extent of any future cruelty. Although he was responsible for the chickens’ so described misurables in his defence the damage had been accidental.

‘I must remember that story for Neil,’ Kevin thinks.

‘I should make a note so I don’t forget it.’

Eleven thirty with Kevin searching through his photo files. He opens a new folder then slowly adds photographs he thinks Neil may find interesting. There is another file which he would keep from Neil’s eyes as it holds nude photos of those who had years previously shared his and Wayne’s bed. Now many had gone; some interstate, others when HIV was ramped in the community. At last count sixty-seven friends and acquaintances had been taken by the virus, although that list hadn’t been added to for at least three or four decades.

Kevin gives a sigh as during his early years he made it his vocation to collect as many friends as possible for his dotage, realising once reaching old age it was virtually impossible to make new friends.

These days friends and acquaintances were light on the ground, becoming fewer when he and Wayne bought the house. Kevin had a theory, people in units make friendships with people in units; those in houses do so with other house owners, married couples with their like and those with kids associate with those who have kids. When Kevin and Wayne bought the house they knew few gay friends who owned houses, so socialising became less frequent and one by one the old crowd drifted away. That was long ago and now even the few friends they retained were also beginning to drift.

2.30pm, with the roast in the oven.

Slow cooking was the go.

Kevin smiles as he ignites the gas, remembering the last time Wayne had friends for dinner he forgot to light the oven. When the guests arrived it was a quick apology and to the main street for Chinese.

3pm and the door chimes, sending the ginger cat to the back yard, as he hates visitors.

“You are very punctual Neil?”

“I can smell roast.”

“Yes I put it in the oven a little while back. Come in.” Kevin guides Neil to the rear sitting room past the closed door on his untidy bedroom, “you are looking smart today,” he says, believing smart was a better description than cute.

Neil smiles while releasing a nondescript chuckle.

“I’ve put on a leg of lamb; I hope you like lamb.”

“I do but the old man hates its smell so we seldom have it, except when he is away on business.”

Neil places down his carry bag and nods, “same chair okay?”

“Yes I’ll put on coffee; or tea if you prefer.”

“Coffee will be fine; if you are having tea it will do.”

“No I’ll use some of Wayne’s coffee; I think I said he has it sent down from Mareeba in North Queensland.”

“You did.”

“Personally I’m not a coffee drinker and I was an adult before I had tasted real coffee.”

“We grew up on it, why didn’t you have coffee?”

“Let’s say back then the north of Queensland was a little behind the times.”

“Has Wayne returned yet?”

“No he is away for another week, possibly two.”

With the coffee made they settle.

“How is your thesis going?” Kevin asks.

“I have fallen somewhat behind in my work; too many nights out. Frank says I should be more focused and the old man has been on my back of late about finding a proper job. He has offered a junior clerk position at his work.”

“Would you accept such an offer?”

“Definitely not we would end up murdering each other.”

“You said your father is homophobic, what does he think of your choice of uni course, or more so your thesis?”

“He doesn’t know the exacts of it and doesn’t ask as he isn’t interested in education, he says he made it with only two years of high school and uni is a waste of time and money, he also reckons its nothing but rich boys playing at being important while they disrupt society and business with their pointless protesting.”

“Do you think that?” Kevin asks.

“There is some truth in what he says but I mostly keep to myself and small group of friends.”

“So your father doesn’t help you financially?” Kevin suggests as he returns with the coffee.

“Mum helps and I do have a part time job,” Neil retrieves his recorder and places it on the coffee table, “shall we start?”

“Why not.”

The tape gives a soft whirring sound.

“Where too this time?” Kevin questions.

“Take me back to the beginning.”

“What, to my birth in a Melbourne hospital?”

“Possibly not that far back but why Ivy left for Queensland and your first memories of that time, I am also interested in general lifestyle.”

“In a single word I would say the lifestyle was basic.”

“What about services, schools, hospitals age care that sort of thing?”

“Most small towns had a hospital, no clinics or specialization, mostly servicing broken limbs, dysentery and spider bites, for operations it was often necessary to fly in a surgeon, or transport the patient to a larger city.”

“What about snake bites?”

“Usually it would occur too far from help, so you either got over it or died.”

“Was there many deaths from snakebites?”

“Possibly one or two a year, usually people were smart enough not to meddle with them, especially the king browns and taipans and the other eight or so of the world’s most deadly. I do have a snake encounter story for you.”

“I’m listening.”

“It was while living in Torrens Creek and riding on Roany in the scrub close to town when she put her head down while making a sudden halt to our progress.”

“What was it that scared her?”

“Horses are skittish animals at the best of times and with the sudden jolting I was over her neck and head to the ground. As I got to my feet I realised I had almost fallen onto a very large and angry snake.”

“What kind was it?”

“I didn’t hang about to find out, I went one way, the snake another and Roany a third. It took me an age to calm her.”

Neil gives a shudder, “enough of snakes. If someone did become ill or have an accident how would they get help?”

“We did have the flying doctor service that had been set up way back in twenty-seven by John Flynn.”

“I’ve heard of Flynn of the Inland – in like Flynn.”

“Wrong fellow.”

“Eh?”

“Flynn of the Inland yes but in like Flynn was about the Tasmanian actor Errol Flynn and the goings-on at a house he shared with David Niven. Niven christened the house cirrhosis by the sea. There is also an American version their saying is In like Flint but I don’t know its origin.

“Yes I read about some of Flynn’s excesses and why he and David Niven fell out. I believe Flynn put the hard word on Niven and was rejected.”

“Your question on how someone injured could get help. I would say all outback stations and small settlements had a rudimentary airstrip, besides the planes uses were quite small.”

“Like Cessnas?”

“In the fifties the flying doctor service used a British aircraft that had been modified for outback conditions, the de-Havilland Drover; it was slow but well suited for gravel or grass landing strips.”

“You said you only did your sub junior year.”

“I did; back then in Queensland there were eight primary years and four high school years, although ten years later when I came back here to Melbourne and joined the Post Office, I jumped two grades and got my leaving year eleven at first attempt.”

“What was child and age care like?”

“Childcare was what you could arrange with family and friends. Often a nonworking mother would take care of those from working mothers, or leave the older child in charge of the baby or younger child. The pension was nothing more than an excuse to make the government appear caring, besides families lived on one wage with the wife running the house. The wages were low as were prices and except for food, rent and the occasional dance or picture night there wasn’t much else to spend your money on.”

“What about public opinion?”

“There was plenty on budget nights with the call, what about the worker, as the tax on beer and cigarettes came under scrutiny but as there wasn’t any social media like facebook, most kept their opinion in-house or the hotel bars. These days it seems the whole nation, no the entire world, has an opinion and shouting it so loud that no one can hear anyone or anything of value.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you but to digress what are your earliest recollection.”

Kevin finishes his coffee and takes the empty mugs to the kitchen sink he appears to be deep in thought, “earliest you say.”

“Yes as a child what is the first that comes to mind?”

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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