Tigers on the Run

by Sean Kennedy

“Oi, you dobber!” Gabby cried.

  The kids found this very amusing, and their high-pitched laughter would have made dogs all over the neighbourhood wince in pain. Even though Sadie was only two, and barely understood a word that was being said, her laugh was the loudest.

  “Grandchildren are such a blessing,” Mum said.

  “I think you meant some other word there,” I told her.

  “And you can never have enough of them.” She gave me a pointed look.

  “Three isn’t enough for you?” Tim asked through a mouthful of roast potato.

  “Manners, Tim!” Mum reminded him. And then she looked at Dec. “There’s always room, and time, for more.”

  “Hold on to the dream, Mum.”

  Tim guffawed. “Who’s going to carry the baby, Simon? You or Dec?”

  “Dec’s the fitter one,” Gabby said.

  “Simon has the hips for it,” Tim countered.

  Dec wasn’t joining in on this one, though. Normally he would quite happily join in on the Murray family ribbing, which he always insisted was the way we showed affection to one another. However, there were some issues that got to him, and I knew this was one.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said, airily. “Dec has to make an honest husband of me first.”

  “But that will never happen!” my mother cried, before she realised what she was saying.

  Aah, the traditional Murray family dinner silence. You couldn’t go even one without it happening.

  Of course, Tim broke it. “Well… this is awkward.”

  Nobody seemed to want to say anything until Nikki piped up. “Why?”

  This conversation was taking on a surreal bent, and not one I would have thought would be broached this evening. Especially involving my nephew and nieces, who would rather watch TV than pay attention to whatever the boring adults were doing or saying.

  “It’s awkward because your dad always puts his foot in his mouth,” I said.

  “Hey, it’s her fault!” Tim pointed at our mum.

  “Who’s she? The cat’s mother?” Mum protested.

  “You started it,” I told Tim.

  “Granny’s Sock’s mum?” Jock asked, thinking of his beloved cat.

  Dec was pursing his lips, trying hard not to bellow with laughter. I slid my hand beneath the table, and he gripped it.

  “Why can’t Uncle Simon marry Uncle Declan?” Jock persisted.

  “Do we have to debate politics at the dinner table?” Mum asked.

  “It’s not politics,” Gabby said. “It’s their lives.”

  Funnily enough, the two people who were most affected by the issue were staying silent. It was a conversation we were sick of having but everyone else seemed to think they could debate endlessly either on our behalves or just to hear themselves talk.

  “It’s the law,” Tim told his kids.

  “Sounds stupid,” Jock said.

  “Out of the mouths of babes,” Dad said and, as always happened, his infrequent contribution to family conversation stunned everyone else into silence.

  “Didn’t know you were such an activist, Dad,” Tim said.

  “I’ve called our local member a couple of times,” Dad shrugged. “Called him a gutless wonder for voting against gay marriage.”

  “You have?” I asked. This was all news to me.

  “I have two sons.” Dad didn’t break eye contact with me. “Don’t you think I want both of them to be married and settled?”

  Mum reached across the table, took his hand, and smiled.

  “Well said, Dad.” Tim was serious. There was a blue moon in the sky tonight.

  Declan raised his beer with his free hand. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Everybody else raised their drinks except the kids, who had now lost interest in us again.

  I brought my hand out from under the table, still clasped in Dec’s, and rested them on the surface where everybody could see.

  “I’ll make him my ball and chain yet,” I said.

  “Oh, Dec,” Tim said, “you poor, poor bastard.”

  “YOUR DAD, hey?” Declan said as we got into the car. “Who would have thought it?”

  “Don’t you always say people can surprise you?”

  “They can, and they do. It’s just nice when it happens.”

  “If you’d asked me eight years ago if I ever thought my dad would want to discuss my wedding with another guy, let alone call a politician to berate him for not endorsing it, I’d have said you were fucking crazy.”

  “He just needed to see you get the perfect man to realise it could become true.”

  “Oh, fuck, my family’s worship of you is finally turning you into an egomaniac.”

  Dec laughed. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 14

  “YOU’RE NOT going to be happy with me.”

  “Not a good way to start a conversation, Dec.” I peered around to see what Coby was doing in his office—he seemed absorbed in his laptop. The door, as was the case every day now, was closed.

  “I’m caught up in a meeting, and Carmichael wants to talk to me afterwards. I don’t think I’m going to make it to the filming this arvo.”

  A cold sweat broke out on me. “Can’t you just try really hard to get there?”

  “I’ll try, but I just thought I’d give you the heads up. You can handle Micah—things have been okay with him lately. And he’s been okay with you.”

  He’d been okay with me because Dec was always around, and he was still trying to be on his best behaviour with his mentor. I was wary that Dec’s absence might cause him to revert to form as he would resent me trying to give him any direction. He would just take them as an order and automatically rebel.

  “I guess.”

  “You’re just going to film him kicking the ball and do a bit of an interview, right? I really can’t see him causing a fuss about that.”

  Poor, sweet, naïve Dec. Who always tried to see the best in everybody.

  “It’ll be fine,” I said to assure him, because I wasn’t assuring myself. “Just, it would be good if you could try to get here.”

  “I’ll speak to you later. Love you.”

  “Love you,” I said back, but he’d already hung up.

  If I had been on better terms with Coby I’d have raced into his office screaming “Red alert! Raise shields! Klingons on the starboard bow!” But I knew all I would get today would be a withering glance and “I’m really trying to work here, Simon.”

  The crew would already be setting up on the oval—I hadn’t thought I would be needed as Dec was going to be there. One of the perks of being producer rather than crew or talent.

  But my phone rang as I was packing my bag.

  “Simon?” Suki Majors, one of my best on-air talents and co-host of QueerSports (the show where Greg Heyward infamously disclosed his relationship with Dec), cried. “Thank fuck you picked up!”

  Already knowing what she was going to say, I sighed. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t get hold of Declan, and Micah Johnson is chucking a major fit ever since he found out Dec wasn’t here.”

  “I hate to tell you this, but Dec might not make it.”

  “I’m not going to tell the kid that! You have to come here!”

  Seems Micah was able to terrify anyone, and Suki could even co-host with Emcee Gee without breaking a sweat.

  “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten.”

  “Be quicker,” she pleaded. “I’m afraid he’s going to run off.”

  Amazingly, he stayed put. Suki didn’t even speak to me, she just pointed in his general direction. He was hiding in the grandstand, halfheartedly smoking.

  “Put that out,” I told him. “When did you start, anyway?”

  “I always have,” he said.

  I doubted it. I would have smelled it on him before this.

  “And make me.”

  I snatched the cigarette out of his mouth before he even knew I was contemplating it, and stamped
it out.

  “Hey!” he protested.

  “Hey nothing,” I said. “Do you want a career in AFL or not? You’re not going to go very far with emphysema.”

  “If I’m going to play,” he sneered.

  “Okay,” I turned on my heel. “We’re packing up. You’re wasting our time and money.”

  “Wait!”

  I didn’t.

  “Simon!”

  I turned back. “What?”

  “Where’s Dec?”

  “He got stuck in a meeting. He’s going to try and get here, but he probably won’t be able to.”

  “He’s my mentor. He’s meant to be here.”

  “He can’t be glued to your hip 24-7.”

  “I thought that’s what a mentor’s meant to do.”

  “I think you’re confusing a mentor with an indentured servant.”

  “A what?”

  “A slave.”

  “I want to talk to him.”

  “I’ll let him know. He’ll call you later.”

  “I want to speak to him now!” Spittle flew from his lips.

  “You can’t. What’s it about?”

  “No offense, but I don’t want to talk about it with Dec’s shag.”

  I marched up the steps toward him and got right in his face. “Listen, you little shit. You can say whatever else you like about me, but you don’t disrespect Dec and you don’t disrespect our relationship. You’ve been told that before, and believe me, my patience will run out long before Dec’s, but even he has a limit.”

  “You can’t help me. Only Dec would understand.”

  “Why couldn’t I?”

  He sneered. “I have to explain it to you? Just look at you. You look like you’ve never done sport in your life. Anybody would’ve just had to look at you to know you were a fairy in school. It’s different for people like me and Dec.”

  Offensive on so many levels, but he honestly believed it. “Yes, I know I’m the epitome of the artfag—”

  “Oh, so you’re allowed to use that word?”

  “I’m talking to you in language you’d seem to understand. But you know what, Dec would be the first person to disagree with you on it being different for jocks. It all boils down to the same thing. If someone hates gay people, it doesn’t matter if they’re a ballet dancer or a soccer player. You’re still just a fag to them. You think I don’t know what that feels like?”

  “You still don’t get it. You and Dec weren’t out in school. I am. And I wish I’d never had been.”

  “Well, no offence,” I said, throwing his words back at him. “But then you probably shouldn’t have been caught giving an opposing player a blow job at an away game.”

  I know. But it was out before I could stop myself. Even I was shocked that I had been so callous. Especially to a kid.

  Who now looked like a vulnerable kid—his mouth slack and his eyes bright as he tried not to cry. All his hard edges were gone.

  “How did you know that? Did Dec—”

  “No!” I said. “Come sit down.”

  For once he obeyed me. We sat, two seats apart, looking out onto the oval and unable to look at each other.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and I cannot overestimate how sorry I was. “I say things without thinking sometimes, and they’re terrible. I’m really sorry.”

  “How did you know, then?”

  I sighed. “During the preproduction process, we talk to a lot of people. Both your coach and your parents brought it up.”

  “How could they?” Micah asked. The betrayal made him hunched over into himself, unable to look anywhere but the seat in front of him.

  “People just want to talk sometimes. It helps them sort it out in their head.”

  “Did you film it?” he asked.

  “The interview?” I shook my head. “Even if we had, there’s no way I would put it in the documentary.”

  “Why not?” The hard edge was back. “It would be a great story. The fag who was so desperate the first time he got given some attention that he immediately whipped out the other guy’s dick and started sucking it in thanks.”

  Yeah… that story may have been a little too graphic for the intended audience.

  “We would never do that to you. You may be a subject of the documentary, but neither Dec or I want to exploit your story. Everybody’s entitled to privacy.”

  “Doesn’t mean they always get it,” Micah sniffed. “What about that book that that guy wrote about Dec?”

  “That was actually different. He always intended to write a tawdry story. Your sex life is your business.”

  I thought I might have been getting through to him, but he gave one final sniff and then the Micah I was usually exposed to came back. “I told you I didn’t want to talk to you about it. I want to talk to Dec. And fuck your filming today.”

  He jumped up and ran down the steps. I knew it was no use running after him, so I went to join the crew and tell them filming was finished for the day. Suki looked especially pissed off, and I didn’t blame her.

  I just hoped Dec would be able to succeed with Micah where I hadn’t.

  “YOU SAID what to him?” Dec demanded.

  “You think I’m proud of myself?”

  We were in the grandstand—he had actually turned up fifteen minutes after Micah stormed off. I had just finished dealing with the crew and helping them pack up when he arrived. The look on his face told me he immediately knew shit had gone down.

  “Honestly, Simon, I don’t know where your fucking head is sometimes.”

  That hurt, even if it was true. “I know.”

  “He’s seventeen years old! You can’t talk to him like he’s Jasper Brunswick.”

  “I know.”

  “Stop saying that!”

  “What do you want me to say? I know I fucked up.”

  “You did more than fuck up. Micah was vulnerable, and you took his worst secret….” He trailed off.

  I was using Micah’s defensive technique of staring at the seat ahead of me. I couldn’t look at Dec; I would have completely broken if I had. And he had enough broken people to deal with at the moment.

  I could hear him tapping away at his phone. “He’s not picking up. What am I going to tell his parents? They trusted us!”

  Well, they had trusted Declan. They didn’t know his idiotic partner would fuck everything up. Although anybody who knew me would have guessed there was a high chance I would.

  “Will you stop sulking, and help me?” Declan demanded.

  I was going to say I wasn’t sulking, but knew it would sound exactly like I was. “What do you need me to do?”

  But at that moment my phone rang. I quickly looked at it to see if it was Micah, by some miracle.

  It was Coby.

  “Who is it?”

  “Coby.”

  “Don’t answer it.”

  “It could be important.”

  “And this whole Micah thing isn’t?”

  “I’m still meant to be at work!” I answered the call before Dec could respond. “Coby, I can’t really talk right now.”

  “This is really important. Jasper just got a message from Micah Johnson. He said he was quitting football!”

  “What the hell?”

  “What?” Declan asked.

  “Why the fuck would he call Jasper?”

  “Who?” Declan asked.

  “He said he’d give him an exclusive he was dreaming of.”

  “So Jasper gets another scoop?” I scoffed. “I thought you would be happy about that.”

  “What is going on?” Declan was right up in my personal space now.

  “Jasper heard from Micah,” I said, to get him off me more than anything.

  “Why would Micah do that?”

  “I don’t know, Dec. Nobody knows what goes on in that kid’s head!”

  “Is Jasper with Coby?”

  “Coby?” I asked.

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

&nb
sp; “Coby. You still there?”

  I heard a deep sigh. “Look, I know things are tense between us. But you’re still my friend, right?”

  This wasn’t a time to pussyfoot about. “You know I am. Even with things the way they are.”

  “It’s just, fine, I admit it. I love Jasper, but I know what he’s like. He gets excited about a scoop, and he gets blinded, and he does what he thinks is best for the paper and the story. It doesn’t matter who it’s about. And you know what Jasper could do with that information.”

  “I know,” I said, looking at Dec, who was ready to Hulk out.

  I was shocked that Coby was finally admitting what we all knew. To admit to the faults of a partner to another person is difficult, especially when you know your friends don’t really like him.

  “Imagine what would happen if Jasper prints another story about Micah.”

  I knew all too well. “But what I don’t get is why Micah would ring him in the first place.” But as I said it, I knew. Jasper was his guarantee that the story would get out. Everybody else tried to cover up his errors—shit, even I had had a hand in doing that. If Jasper did a story, it would blow up and there could be no clean up afterwards. Micah was letting somebody else make the decision for him.

  “Self-destruct mode,” Coby said, obviously having the same thought. “It’s the one thing you and Jasper have in common with him.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, come on, Simon. Why do you think you and Jasper piss each other off so much? You’re alike. You’re so convinced everybody isn’t going to like you so you go on a combined offense and defence strategy to justify it if they don’t.”

  I used to be like that; well, at least, I had improved a lot. At the moment I don’t think Dec thought I had.

  “At least you’ve gotten a bit better,” Coby said. “Jasper is way behind the ball on that one.”

  “Are you the man who’s going to save him?”

  “Will you stop wasting time?” Dec implored.

  “People save themselves. Micah’s going to have to realise that, too.”

  Coby obviously thought he was the new Oprah. What irked me was that some of what he said made sense.

  “Do you know what Jasper’s going to do?”

  “He’s being cagey.”

  “I’ll assume the worst.”