by Sean Kennedy
“Well, he’s the dad. He doesn’t have the parts to be a mother.”
“He also doesn’t get the pressure. Dads can piss off whenever they like and everybody waves it off. A mother’s chained to her kids or else she’s a failure.”
“Do Dec and I make you think that?” If I was guilty of it, I wanted to rectify it as it was obviously affecting her so much.
“No, you’re about the only ones who don’t. It’s more my family. Even Roger’s, to a lesser extent. That’s why I love being with you guys. I’m Fran, Roger’s Roger—”
“Or Boofhead.”
“Hey, that’s my husband you’re talking about,” she growled, but laughed anyway. “Anyway, what I’m saying is we can still be ourselves around you guys. We’re only a mum and a dad to our families.”
“That’ll pass. It’s just the excitement of being around new parents. Other people seeing you go through it, I mean. Just because you want some time to yourself every now and again doesn’t make you a failure of a mother. It just makes you fucking normal.”
She leaned in and pecked me on the cheek. “I love you, you know that?”
“A lot of people say that to me.”
“Piss off. But how awful is it that I feel this way? You know how hard it was, and how long it took, for us to even conceive—I mean, you know how much money it took, and we haven’t even started paying you back—”
“That’s nothing,” I said, on Declan’s behalf as well. The sums of money he gave were always gifts in his mind, without any desire for recompense—I don’t know how many times it had to be reiterated to the Daltons.
“Yeah, it was nothing. Anyway, how can I even think like this when it took so much to have them?”
“You wanted to be parents. And now you are parents. And that means having to get away from them every now and again. Have you talked to Roger about this?”
She stared back out the window. “I’m scared he’ll hate me.”
“Now, that seriously is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. That man worships you in the most unhealthiest of ways.”
“Not if he knew I thought like this.”
“Bullshit. He gets more moments away than you do, for a start, and for all of the sexist reasons you previously said. If anything, he’s probably just confused.”
“His natural state,” Fran said fondly.
“He wouldn’t be confused in this instance, if you just told him what you were thinking.”
“What about you and Dec?”
“What about me and Dec?” I twigged on to her evil plan. “Stop trying to deflect!”
“We’ve dealt with me. Are you guys okay? I haven’t seen him look so down with you since he planned that trip to Paris and you said you’d rather go to Auschwitz.”
“We ended up doing both!” I reminded her. “And I planned that very special midnight trip up the Eiffel Tower!”
“Yeah, I guess you can make up for things pretty well sometimes.”
“Besides, history’s important,” I muttered.
“So, are you okay?”
“Of course we are,” I said, and even though I was worrying myself sick about Dec at the moment I still believed it. We always got through the crap that was thrown at us, or we had thrown at each other. I just wish we were at the stage where everything was discussed and cleared up so the atmosphere could relax between us. “He’s just upset about the whole Micah thing, and I didn’t help.”
“Micah didn’t help.”
“True,” I admitted. “But you can’t say that to Dec; he’s too close. He sees too much of himself in Micah. Or at least, what he could have been had he been able to come out when he was a teenager.”
“What, a temperamental ungrateful brat?”
“Micah’s got his good points.” I laughed, surprised at myself. “Okay, they’re really tiny, and almost impossible to see, but they’re there.”
“You’ll be a good dad one day.” Fran almost seemed to be looking at me through new eyes.
“Where did that come from?”
“Just the way you’re talking about Micah. You know more than you let on.”
“Don’t even start. How heteronormative,” I teased.
“The potential daddy doth protest too much.”
Now it was time for me to deflect. “If you’re okay, I’m going to do a loo run. Do you want anything?”
“A Coke,” Fran said, and I got up. “Oh, and some Twisties. And a Chokito. Shut up,” she admonished me before I could even say anything.
“Not even thinking anything.”
She grabbed me in a bear hug. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t got you them yet.”
“You know what I mean, you dickhead.”
“I love you too, arsewipe.”
The driver door opened and Dec threw himself behind the wheel. Puzzled, he adjusted the rearview mirror. “Have you guys not even gone out yet?”
“On our way,” Fran said.
“You were the one desperate for the loo.”
“Yes, dad.” She let go of me.
He took the lid off his coffee cup and inspected the contents. “Is everything okay back there?”
“Yep, Fran had a bug on her back.”
“That’s a strange way to get it off.”
“I like challenges,” I said, giving Fran a grin and stepping off the minibus into the dark.
I COULD see Coby through the lighted window of the roadhouse as I made my way to the toilet block, or at least what was trying to pass as one. It was a small shack and the door was closed. I tried to open it and someone yelled from inside, “I’m in here!”
“Hurry up, Jasper! I need to pee.”
“There are plenty of trees out there!”
“I am not an animal! I am a human being!” I howled, amusing myself.
The sound of a toilet flushing, a sink running, and Jasper emerged. “You’re a bloody annoying one.”
“Move,” I said.
“I probably wouldn’t go in there straight away. I’ve been… having some stomach troubles.”
“You’re bullshitting.”
“Well, the second half of that word is true.”
He walked off laughing, and I pushed open the toilet door with my foot. The stench almost bowled me over.
“Oh, you filthy—”
I scooted further into the darkness, desperate to pee. I found the biggest tree with the most foliage for cover, and relieved myself in the cold night air, my breath like smoke drifting away.
Halfway through I heard footsteps moving in the brush. I instantly thought of serial killers, or maybe this was a country beat I had inadvertently stumbled into; was I about to be propositioned by a cop in a sting operation, wanting to add to his necessary quota of arrests?
“Friend or foe!” I yelled in a panic.
If it was a serial killer, I had just given away my position. And I wasn’t sure if my scream would be heard by my travel buddies in the minibus as the heater and the stereo were probably back on by now.
“Simon?” I heard Coby ask in confusion.
Finished, I zipped myself up and came out from behind the tree. “You made me shit myself!”
“Well, it wasn’t you who stunk out the loo, then.”
It seemed he wasn’t willing to brave the dead dog smell that came from Jasper’s arse either. “No, that was your boyfriend.”
“Oh,” Coby reddened, and seeing as he was already pink due to the frigid air, it was quite an achievement. “He has stomach problems.”
“So he said.”
“I hope you didn’t give him shit for it.”
There was a pause as we both realised the unintended, and inappropriate, pun. Our laughter howled through the empty air, probably causing small children to wake in fright.
“Don’t,” Coby wheezed. “It’s mean.”
“You started this!” And I couldn’t stop it, either.
“Inflammatory bowel syndrome is a serious issue,” Coby
told me.
“What’s he going to do? Sue me for defecation?”
“Defecation!” Coby was now clutching his stomach. “That is so bad.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty crappy.”
“You are so juvenile,” said the pot.
“It may not be my worst feature, but it’s definitely number two,” replied the kettle.
Coby was now crouched down and trying not to fall over. “You’re the worst.”
“Did you say waste?”
“Worst! Worst, you fucker!”
I think I had reached my limit of shit synonyms and related puns. I reached down to help him off the ground.
“That’s the first time I’ve felt like we’ve been friends again for ages,” Coby said.
I had been thinking the same thing. “We always were friends, Coby. Just, things were strained.”
“So, we’re okay?”
“We’re getting there.”
“I’m sorry I was such a shit.”
Another unintentional lapse, and we were both howling again.
“I was a shit at times as well,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I mean, you were more of a shit, but I can take some of the blame.”
Suddenly my arms were full of Coby as he hugged me fiercely. “I missed you.”
Before I could say anything, a torch beam flashed upon us, and the visions of a cop catching me mistakenly at a beat popped into my head again. Now I would be even more suspicious, with my arms full of blonde aging twink.
“What are you guys doing?” Jasper demanded.
All with equally confused looks on their faces, Jasper, Dec, and Fran waited for an answer that might somehow make sense.
“We were making up,” Coby said, still holding me.
“As long as you weren’t making out,” said Fran.
“I really need to pee still,” Coby said.
“Don’t fall down the bog,” I called after him as he ran back towards the shack, which I hoped was now a little aerated.
Coby’s giggle floated back to us. The others were still looking at me, and I shrugged.
“I guess you had to be here.”
As the others moved off to get back into the warm car, Dec held back.
“I take it everything’s sorted out with Coby?”
“Not everything. But it’s on its way back.”
“Well, good for him, I guess.”
He began to walk away, but I jumped on his back and wrapped my arms around his neck. He grunted, and kept walking. My feet dragged along the ground.
“I’d rather things were okay with us,” I whispered in his ear.
“They’re fine,” he said, choking.
“I’m really sorry we’ve had to go on the road to nowhere to pick up your runaway teen.” I kicked up my feet and circled his waist with them so that he was now fully carrying me in a piggyback.
“Fuck,” he wheezed. “I think you’re too old to be carried.” But his arms closed over my thighs and he held me securely.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you, too.”
He managed to make it to the car, and we crashed into the side of it. I saw Fran and Jasper look out the window in alarm, then watch with interest as I slid off Dec’s back. “Thanks for the lift.”
Dec turned to face me. “I’d say no worries, but I think I’ve slipped a disc.”
“Does this make you feel better?” I kissed him.
He slumped with his back against the bus and pulled me with him. “Slightly. You might have to do a little more than that, though.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Gross!” Coby yelled, crunching his way from the toilet through the gravel of the car park. “Get a room!”
“If only,” Dec murmured so that only I could hear, and I laughed, giving him one more kiss before we had to pull ourselves apart and go back into the car.
Was forgiveness as easy as that?
With us, it was.
I WAS feeling a lot better, having resolved the Declan and Coby issues. Indeed, the mood had lifted throughout the whole of the minibus, with music being played, jokes being told, and raucous sing-alongs that rivalled any movie montage.
Okay, so Dec wasn’t joining in as much as the others. His mind was still focusing on his troubled protégé. But he did snap out if it every now and again, and he was even smiling at me! What a difference a hug and a tackle in a car park makes.
“I hope we’re not going to be interrupting the teens making out, or worse,” Coby said when the conversation once again turned to Micah.
“I don’t think Micah will be very impressed if we drag him away from his boyfriend,” Fran agreed.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Dec said.
Jasper snorted. “Don’t mention bridges around me.”
I flipped him the bird, and Coby cackled.
“He’s seventeen,” Dec said. “He’s old enough to know running away to be with his boyfriend isn’t the best option.”
“Okay, grandpa.” Fran dug into her bag and produced a nail file.
“Who can really stand in the way of true love?” I asked.
“Responsible adults,” Declan snapped.
“It’s going a bit far to suggest that of us.”
“I was talking about me.”
“It’s just… times have changed. I never knew what it was like to be seventeen and be out and flush with new love. And you didn’t, either.”
Declan looked sad for a moment, as if he were imagining what that could have been like, but shook it away.
“I did,” Jasper said. “Oh man, I did.”
“Please Jasper, tell us more.” Fran was now expertly attending her nails. I guess she was really cramming in all those things she couldn’t get to do at home. “Said nobody ever.”
Coby made a strangled sound in the back of his voice, and Fran wearily lifted her hand.
“Peace. Postpregnancy hormones.”
“That wasn’t hormones,” Coby muttered. “That was bitchiness.”
“Don’t tell me what my body’s going through, you sexist pig!”
“Okay, I believe you,” Coby said quickly. “I’m sorry.”
Fran burst out laughing. “Oh my god, guys are so easy to rile up when it comes to the female body.”
“You better not talk about your vagina,” I said, “or else Coby might burst into flames.”
“Do we have to talk about vaginas?” Jasper asked.
“Are you scared of them?” Fran asked. “You shouldn’t be. You came out of one.”
Jasper shuddered.
“Seriously, what is it with some gay men and vaginas?”
“I’m perfectly fine with vaginas,” I said.
Dec laughed and had to sober quickly behind the wheel so he didn’t plunge us down a ravine. We didn’t want history repeating itself (although if it hadn’t been for that ravine, Dec might not have been so quick to forgive me all those years ago).
“How progressive of you, Simon.” Jasper dripped with disdain.
“It’s a body part. It’s not like penises are that attractive.”
“Should I feel wounded?” Dec asked.
“No, yours is really pretty,” I assured him.
Judging by his reaction, I still had the ability to make him flush with embarrassment when I wanted to.
“We might have to have a look for a second opinion,” Fran said, and Coby high-fived her.
“Oi!” I said.
Declan’s blush deepened.
“I never thought I’d say this, but can we not talk about Declan Tyler’s penis either?” Jasper asked.
“Don’t talk about vaginas; don’t talk about penises,” I said. “Are you sure you’re not asexual, Jasper?”
He glared at me. “I like cock. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
“Poor Coby,” Fran said. “Bedroom talk must be really dull.”
“He’s taken care of,” Jasper told her.
“Okay,
I really need to call a moratorium on this conversation, now,” I said.
“About time.” Dec risked a quick glance in the rearview mirror to meet my eyes. “But you couldn’t have done that before you started talking about my cock?”
“Declan Tyler said cock,” Fran said in awe.
“You’re all bad influences,” he grunted.
“I’M NOT saying they would have lasted forever, but I have to wonder, would the Spice Girls have gone on to become even bigger and better had Ginger Spice not left?”
“She had personality, but she couldn’t sing,” Coby said.
“Let’s face it, Sporty Spice held that group together,” Jasper added.
“And Scary.” No one ever really gave Scary her due.
“If they held the group together, why did they break up not that long after?” Dec asked.
“Because like they say in Spice World the movie, they need five for the ‘power of Spice’.” I thought it was pretty obvious.
“This is the gayest conversation I’ve ever heard,” said Fran. “Even gayer than the one about Declan’s cock.”
“Can we please stop bringing up my….” Dec trailed off, really not wanting to say the word a second time.
I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Spoilsport.”
“SERIOUSLY, THE size of peas,” Dec said to me as we waited outside a very decrepit public toilet for Fran, Jasper and Coby to return to the minibus.
“HEY, SIMON, don’t look behind me,” Fran whispered into my ear.
I immediately turned around to look, and was confronted by the sight of Coby and Jasper tenderly making out, the moonlight romantically turning them into a glowing idealised portrait of love.
“Why? Why would you do that to me?” I asked, in pain.
“I saw it. So I had to make someone else suffer.”
“What are you two talking about?” Dec asked, his eyes on the road.
“Gorgons,” I replied. “Don’t look, or you’ll turn to stone.”
“WE’LL BE passing the Apostles any minute now,” Dec announced.
Fran stared out into the black. “Beautiful.”
It was definitely the wrong time of day to be admiring ancient and stunningly beautiful weathered cliff formations.
