‘Trying to hide the combination? Don’t wet your pants – I wouldn’t be seen dead on that thing. It’s gay, like you and your boyfriend. I’ve got proof on my phone.’
All of a sudden I smelt burning rubber. Starkey was bent down, melting the sole of my shoe with his cigarette lighter.
‘What are you doing, you psychopath?’
‘Seeing how long it would take you to notice.’
‘Whatever. I feel sorry for you.’
‘Not as sorry as you’ll feel when I tell everyone about you and Pooficles Poparse.’
I bit my tongue and pushed my bike up the embankment.
Tonight after dinner I received a text from Pericles.
I’ve been kicked out of home. Can I stay at yours?
Things had gone as bad as he’d predicted. I explained the situation to Dad and asked if Pericles could stay with us. Dad didn’t hesitate. His only question was whether Pericles needed to be picked up.
Pez declined and caught the train to Kings Cross like thousands of outcasts before – only his shelter was a luxury apartment on the twenty-seventh floor.
‘Thank you for letting me stay, M-M-Mr Locke,’ Pericles stammered when Dad met him at the door. Dad took him in his arms and hugged him till he started sobbing, then held him even tighter. He looked over his shoulder and winked at me. The hug we’d shared on Good Friday had been the first in ages, and I felt Dad’s love for me again as he embraced my friend. On release, Pez apologised repeatedly for being an inconvenience and disturbing our night. Dad made him a cup of tea and eventually he calmed down and shared his story.
He’d only intended to tell his mother. She cried then was struck mute for fifteen minutes. The first word she uttered was ‘Why?’, which was difficult for Pericles to answer because it seemed more aimed at God than him. When she finally composed herself, she hugged Pericles and told him that she’d love him no matter what, and that nothing could ever change that. It was probably unnecessary to add, ‘Even if you murder somebody’ – but she had.
Pez took some comfort from his mother’s allegiance, until his father’s car appeared in the driveway and she said, ‘You’ll have to tell your father now. I won’t be able to hide this from him.’ He begged her not to, but before Mr Pappas even had a chance to sit down she said, ‘Our son has something he’d like to tell you.’ There was no escape. He’d wanted to do it by degrees, but his mother had decided differently.
‘I’m gay,’ he said to his father.
Mr Pappas walked away without saying a word. Pericles followed him to the vegetable patch, where he was supposedly checking the progress of his eggplants. He turned and exploded in Greek. Pez understood nothing but the swearing. Then in English his father said, ‘This is your mother’s fault for letting your sisters dress you like a girl.’
‘That has nothing to do with it. I’m a man. I like being a man. I like other men.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Mr Pappas said. ‘This is a weakness you must overcome.’
The argument raged for an hour. Mrs Pappas, who’d forced the issue, desperately tried to placate her husband. But he was acting like a bull whose left testicle had been sliced off. He told Pericles that he wouldn’t permit ‘filthy behaviour’ with other boys under his roof. Interpreting this as an ultimatum, Pericles had thrown some clothes in a bag and come to ours.
Dad left Pez and me to talk, and we sat on the balcony watching the lights of the city. ‘Your father’s awesome,’ he said.
‘Trust me. He’s far from perfect.’
‘It was good of him to let me stay here with you. Even though the coming-out backfired, I’m glad Phoenix pushed me. It was like cutting open a festering boil. Not just my father, but heaps of other people have said homophobic stuff over the years without really meaning it, assuming I was straight. It probably slides off if you are. I thought it was sliding off me because I was in denial. But this tiny voice in my head would keep repeating words like “poof” and “faggot” over and over. It was killing me.’
‘It’s tough when the little man inside your mind is against you.’
‘Leave me out of this,’ Homunculus said to me.
‘I thought if I denigrated myself enough it would go away, like it was an ugly part of me I could get rid of. I thought it was so small and insignificant it would disappear if I kept it hidden. Now I’ve realised it’s not a separate thing. It’s part of who I am. The worst thing had been my father’s ignorance of how much he was hurting me. Now at least I’ll know that he means everything he says.’
‘You’ve been thinking about this for a long time,’ I said. ‘For years. And most of that time you’ve been fighting it. Your dad’s only just found out and his immediate reaction was to fight as well. But when he’s had a few days or weeks to think about it he’ll probably come around.’
‘More like months or years – if he ever changes his mind.’
‘You can stay with us for as long as you need to.’
‘That means a lot to me, but I don’t want to be a burden to your father.’
‘You’re not a burden and I can tell that he likes you already.’
‘Are you sure that you’re okay with having me here?’
‘Shut up,’ I said, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder. ‘I always wanted a brother.’
I showed Pericles where everything was and made up the bed in the guest room. After saying goodnight I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and heard him talking to Christina on the phone. The fallout had been huge – his father had dumped a tonne of shame on him. Shame seemed to be the flavour of the month. It felt like the right time to return to the book and discover what had happened to Edwin after being outed on stage by his doctor.
Hoping to receive some measure of consolation from my mother on returning home, I was cut to the quick when she expressed mortification at having witnessed my ‘indecent behaviour’ on the stage. Assuming she was talking about the exposure of my deformity, I argued that my sole purpose had been to rescue us from poverty.
‘You misunderstood me,’ she said. ‘I was referring to the deceitful impersonation.’
‘It was done only to protect my dignity.’
‘And instead destroyed it. There is no virtue in masquerading as a dark-skinned man and behaving in an animalistic fashion to suggest he’s inferior to ourselves. That sort of degrading act appeals to an ignorant audience.’
The following week I was ridiculed, spat on and several times beaten by Reg McGuffin and his gang, many of whom I’d once counted as friends. Their cruel blows were endurable but when they egged our home and pounded my brother Thomas black and blue on his way home from school, the weight of my responsibility was too much to bear.
When I thought matters couldn’t possibly worsen, I learnt that George Pemberton had been forced to pay Dr Melvin Fletcher one hundred pounds for proving me a fake. Pemberton invited me to his office on Monday and I feared he would demand compensation. On entering his sanctum sanctorum, I found he had company.
‘Edwin, thank you for coming in the midst of all the brouhaha,’ he said. ‘Allow me to introduce one of the world’s greatest showmen, Irving Melinkoff.’ The impresario was shorter and stockier than he’d appeared in the newspaper illustrations I’d seen. He was sporting an elegant green-and-silver-striped suit, a jewelled cane and a large mole above his lip, which was difficult to avert one’s eyes from. ‘Mr Melinkoff owns four theatrical establishments in America that by comparison make our humble operation resemble a flea circus.’
Pemberton invited me to sit on an Oriental chaise flanked by a moulded-tin foxhound flocked with tiny hairs. The dog’s wagging tail matched the rhythm of the seconds ticking away on a clock built into its side.
‘I found him while touring Germany,’ Melinkoff said. ‘Presented him to George as a small token of my appreciation for organising this meeting.’
‘Mr Melinkoff may well have the solution to our present troubles. Dr Fletcher has already donated the one hundred pou
nds to the Home for Destitute and Crippled Children. And while there’s no worthier recipient, it was galling that he’d claimed the prize, knowing full well your condition is authentic. Our only “ruse” was fabricating a more exotic identity for you.’
‘I must apologise, sir. I never expected him to come to the show.’
‘Don’t fret, son. Every setback is an opportunity in disguise. Three reporters were present when I handed over the cheque to Fletcher, and there’s nothing more effective than a magnanimous gesture to restore one’s reputation.’
‘Or to cover a multitude of sins,’ Melinkoff said with a wink. ‘But your reputation may be more difficult to recover.’ He turned and fixed his gaze upon me. ‘I’ve heard your neighbours have been downright unneighbourly.’
‘I’d run and hide ten thousand miles away to escape, but that would only be abandoning my family.’
‘Not necessarily.’ Melinkoff’s smile was all gold. ‘George here tells me you swim like a fish?’
‘I haven’t been to the baths in months for shame of my growth, sir.’
‘That wondrous anomaly will be your ticket to fame and fortune, my boy. I’ve got big plans for an aquatic show in a giant glass tank at Coney Island. I plan to have high-divers, mermaids, feats of endurance. Can you hold your breath for two minutes? Of course you can. Let’s time you.’
I filled my lungs with air, then closed my mouth and pinched my nose. After ninety-five wags of the tail, each more agonising than the last, I surrendered, gasping for air.
‘Not bad at all. I’ll have you doing three, four minutes with some training. You must come with me to Coney Island, son.’
‘With all due respect, sir, I couldn’t desert my mother.’
‘With the fortune we’ll make together, leaving your family for a while would be the kindest thing you could do. How does thirty pounds sound to you?’
‘Thirty pounds a month?’
‘A week – plus fifty right now if you sign on the spot. And one hundred to compensate my friend George here.’
After a few moments weighing my mother’s rebuke against Melinkoff’s undisguised eagerness, I said, ‘I’d be honoured to accept the offer, on condition that I’m not required to blacken my face.’
‘It’s a deal!’ He pumped my hand and slapped my back.
Thirty minutes later, alone on George Street, I realised what I’d done. The excitement of the offer soured quickly as I thought of the people I’d be leaving behind. I went straight to Lassetter’s and used half my first payment to buy a solid gold brooch: a dove flying through a diamond-studded heart. The accompanying letter I wrote to Diddy Budd is printed here with her permission.
My dearest Diddy,
If you’re reading this letter close to seven in the evening, my faithful brother Thomas has performed his commission with expedience. I imagine myself now standing on the stern deck of the S.S. Oceania as it passes between those rocky sentinels, North and South Head, looking back at the lights of the city and thinking of all the dear people I won’t see for at least a year, possibly longer.
As you’re aware, I’ve brought great shame on my family. How stupid I was to assume Dr Fletcher’s confidence! It would grieve me tremendously if you felt in any way to blame for what transpired by having allowed him up to my room that day. You have only ever shown my family the greatest kindness, for which I am truly thankful.
Taking yet another great risk now by leaving for America, I hope to earn enough money to clear my late father’s debt. Yet I remain the lowest form of coward, slipping away without expressing my true affection towards you in person. You see, it would break my heart beyond repair if ever I caught a look of revulsion in your eyes at the sight of me. You must have wondered why I’d backed away from you over the past few months. At least you now know the reason.
I once thought the problem would go away of its own accord, but that hasn’t eventuated. Pardon my arrogant assumption, but if you have any feelings for me then you must let them go. I’ve chosen never to marry, because the thought of passing this affliction on to some innocent offspring is unconscionable. As deeply as it pains me to write this, you must open your kind heart to another who is more deserving. Though initially painful, it will be easier for us both if we correspond no further. I have no right to ask this, but it would please me greatly if you maintained your friendship with my family, as they all adore you.
Finally, please accept this small token of my deep affection and gratitude for your unwavering kindness. Fly free and find great love, little bird.
Yours sincerely,
Edwin Stroud
Having experienced the look of revulsion from Nicole Parker last year, I fully empathised with Edwin’s fear of rejection from Diddy Budd. Both he and Pericles, for different reasons, had demonstrated a huge amount of courage by exposing themselves. In both instances their decisions had pretty much backfired – especially in the immediate fallout for their families. Their demonstration of courage had a price. One that I wasn’t prepared to pay.
Wednesday morning before Art, I gave Isa the skinny on Pericles. To my surprise, she took my hands and squeezed them. ‘I’m so proud of you for looking after him. You probably saved his life.’
‘Don’t know about that,’ I said, not quite sure how to deal with her admiration. ‘Just being a friend.’
Eager to know what Ms Tarasek thought of our proposal for the DNA piece, we went into the studio, but she hadn’t arrived, and everyone was arsing around. A hush came over the room as Dashwood walked in and ordered us to our seats.
‘Year 10, I have some serious news.’ He smoothed his hair and licked his lips. ‘Due to unforeseen circumstances, Ms Tarasek will not be returning to teach this year.’
He read a message from her, the gist of it being that she’d loved our enthusiasm and was sad to be leaving, but had faith we’d continue to thrive under her replacement. She said just knowing we were thinking of her would help her get through a difficult situation, but asked that we respect her need for privacy.
Dashwood left to fetch the new teacher, and wild speculation about the reasons for Ms Tarasek’s departure abounded – from eloping to pregnancy to witness protection and alien abduction. This last theory, proposed by Ashleigh Robinson, seemed the most implausible, until the Dash returned with Miss Timms – whose tiny nose and mouth made her pale-blue eyes appear massive. She looked as though she was taking mental photographs of everything before reporting back to the mothership. I was hardly the person to be critiquing anybody else’s unusual appearance, but you’d have been hard-pressed to find anybody who looked more like an alien attempting to pass as an earthling.
After Dashwood left, Miss Timms repeated what he’d said verbatim then added, ‘I’ve heard nothing but praise for the work Ms Tarasek has done here, especially in regard to the YOU ARE HERE! exhibition. You are all still here, but unfortunately Ms Tarasek isn’t, so Mr Dashwood has postponed the show.’
At lunch we met up with Phoenix and Pez, who’d already heard the news and formulated their own conspiracy theories.
‘She was obviously forced to resign,’ Phoenix said.
‘And the reason would be?’
‘You two, of course. The subversive nature of your proposed DNA installation probably freaked out the Dash. Remember Lethbridge, the school historian? He’s also on the school board and was supposed to be opening the show. As if Dashwood would allow a knitted chain of DNA to be tied around the neck of Crestfield’s founder, exposing him as a eugenics enthusiast and white supremacist. The board would give Dashwood the chop.’
‘He could’ve just told Ms Tarasek that our piece was inappropriate.’
‘Singling it out would’ve drawn more attention.’
‘Why not just cancel the exhibition?’ I said. ‘He didn’t have to force Ms Tarasek to resign.’
‘Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he voiced his disapproval to Tarasek and she argued for freedom of expression. Then he gave her an ultimatum.’
&n
bsp; ‘This is nuts!’ Isa said. ‘You’ve been reading too many thrillers.’
‘Actually, I’ve just visited the library,’ Phoenix said. ‘I wanted to check if Millington Drake’s wacky manifesto was still on the digital catalogue. “On Building Tomorrow’s Man,”’ she said with air quotes. ‘And guess what? It’s not.’
While it seemed unlikely that the school board had any involvement in Ms Tarasek’s sudden departure, I recalled Liliana Petersen bragging in class last term that her mother was a board member and threatening the teacher with removal for shredding our assignments, so who knew? The possibility that Isa and I were even remotely responsible for our favourite, most radical teacher being exiled from Crestfield was heavy shit to contemplate.
After school on Thursday I showed Pericles My One Redeeming Affliction – the book, not the actual tail. I read him the passages about the phrenology bust, the samovar, the oyster knife and the puppets, and told him I believed Bert owned those very objects.
‘That’s probably the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon,’ he said. ‘You read about something unfamiliar or new and then start seeing it everywhere. Think about it – there are probably hundreds of objects mentioned in the book that you haven’t seen, right? And the ones you have noticed might just be similar to the description. Anyway, there’s only one way to find out. Show the old dude the book and ask him directly.’
‘Do you want to come with me?’
‘One hundred per cent.’
On our way down the backstreets and lanes of Darlinghurst, I told Pericles something I’d been pondering for weeks now as I’d been reading the book. I felt connected to Edwin Stroud in some way beyond sharing the affliction – in fact, there were so many weird coincidences between our lives that I thought we could actually be related. I said it was maybe far-fetched and ridiculous, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. Anyway, Edwin hadn’t appeared on my mother’s side of the family tree and I’d probably never know Dad’s ancestry because he was abandoned without a clue.
The Origin of Me Page 31
