The Boy from the Mish

by Gary Lonesborough

  The sun goes down and a few other teenagers gravitate to Troy’s camp. We have a feed of sausages, and Tomas winds up with a little bit of tomato sauce at the corner of his mouth. I wait for a moment when no one’s looking at us, then take my thumb and wipe it away.

  Troy puts on pop music and the campsite turns into a dancefloor again. Jasmine drags Tomas up to dance. I watch from my seat as he sways his arms at his sides for a moment, then turns to me and bursts into laughter. He shakes his head and looks to the sky, as if to ask: Why am I doing this?

  I don’t even know what this music is, because I spend so much of my time listening to old-school rap and hip-hop with Kalyn and Jarny. This music we’re listening to now is about as far from Biggie Smalls as you can get.

  Troy cuts the music and grabs his towel, and we walk as a group behind him as he leads us to the lake. Tomas brushes my hand and I am so tempted to hold his, like we’re a couple or something. He looks to me with a teasing narrowing of his eyes and a smile at the corner of his mouth.

  All the white teenagers discard their clothes to the sand and parade into the water in their underwear.

  ‘Don’t go too far out,’ Troy calls to everyone, as if he’s our lifeguard or something.

  Tomas drops his singlet and his shorts. He wades into the lake water and dives under. I do the same, and the night air is still warm, but the water is freezing. I follow Tomas as he swims out and treads water, swimming through the black to reach him.

  ‘You’re too drunk to be going out this far,’ I tease.

  ‘You’re too drunk,’ he says as he splashes me. He laughs and swims even further out. I follow him, keeping to a doggy-paddle. The teens scream and shout behind us, splashing each other. I ignore them and go for Tomas, who’s got to the other side of the lake and is resting against the weeds that poke through the sand on the bank.

  I feel the bottom of the lake rising as I near Tomas. He stares into my eyes as I approach.

  ‘That Levi kid is gay,’ Tomas whispers.

  ‘You reckon?’

  ‘Yeah, he must be.’

  I can’t help it. I kiss Tomas on the lips. He’s all wet. His hands find their way to my back and he pulls me hard against him. The campers might see, but right now I don’t care. I just kiss him. We stop and catch our breath, then we kiss again.

  ‘I want you,’ he whispers.

  I kiss him again. ‘I’m too drunk,’ I reply.

  ‘I don’t care,’ he says. He grabs my underwear under the water and I’m already hard. He reaches his hand inside and I reach inside his underwear too. He’s bigger than me, I think, but just as hard as I am.

  ‘Wait,’ I say, taking my hand away.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I want to do it properly,’ I say, keeping my voice to a whisper.

  ‘What you mean?’

  I take a breath and force the words out of my mouth. ‘I haven’t had sex before.’

  ‘Not even with a girl?’

  ‘No. I tried, but I couldn’t. I’m sort of nervous. I just want to do it right.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ he asks.

  I nod and he kisses me again. He moves past me, and I swim with him back across the lake. We reach the other side and get out, leaving all the campers swimming in the shallows.

  ‘See you, boys,’ Troy says looking up from his phone as he sips a beer on the sand.

  The Mish is dark and quiet. The dogs sleep on the grass as we walk along the main street. Tomas walks beside me and the back-carriage rattles behind the pushbike. We make it home, and to my surprise, no one is asleep yet. I can hear the guitar strumming away in the backyard. I want to just go upstairs and fall on my mattress, but Tomas waves me to follow him out to the backyard.

  Mum has a little bonfire burning in the middle of the backyard. She and Aunty Pam sit side-by-side on a pair of milk crates. Across the fire, all the boys sit in a semicircle facing them, cross-legged on sheets laid out over the grass. Aunty Pam is playing ‘Love Me Tender’ on the guitar, and Mum is singing the lyrics.

  Tomas sits beside Henry and crosses his legs too. I roll my eyes, because I just want to go upstairs and kiss him again, but I drop my arse behind Tomas and Henry and lean back, let my elbows support me. My head is spinning a little. I notice Mum and Aunty Pam’s artwork resting against the fence in the dark. It’s hard to make out the picture in the dark, but they both still have paint on their hands as they put on their show for us.

  Maybe I’m just drunk, or tired, but Mum’s voice sounds so good. Her voice is smooth and her pitch is flawless. Her face looks lighter somehow. Maybe it’s just the flickering light of the bonfire, but she looks as though she’s glowing. She finishes the lyrics, but Aunty Pam continues strumming.

  ‘Any requests?’ Aunty Pam asks.

  ‘Big Red Car,’ Jude cries out. I nearly burst into laughter and choke on my own spit.

  ‘I don’t know Big Red Car, sweetie,’ Aunty Pam says with a giggle.

  ‘Do another Elvis song,’ Tomas says. Aunty Pam nods and starts to strum again. I don’t recognise it at first, but as soon as Mum starts singing, I know it is ‘The Wonder of You’.

  I close my eyes for a moment. I could fall asleep, but I want to hear. Mum’s voice sounds even better with this song. She’s really good. She could have been a real singer, like a professional one who performs in pubs and clubs, and she could have got her first song played on Koori Radio or Triple J. Aunty Pam sings along at moments in the song, and their voices together sound like some magical Aboriginal choir. I wish I’d known this. I mean, I knew Mum liked to sing, but I didn’t know she was so good. Maybe I just never really listened.

  When they finish their backyard concert, Mum and Aunty Pam put the boys to sleep in the lounge room. Tomas follows me up the stairs and into my room. We both crawl onto my bed and lie beside each other.

  ‘I think I got my story all figured out,’ he says.

  ‘What’s the story?’ I ask.

  ‘This guy lives on the Mish. Just a normal guy. Kids start to go missing from the Mish, so he goes looking for them. He finds the Doolagahs in the bush, then fights them. They kill him, but he comes back to life with all his new powers. He goes back to the Mish, where all the town’s being killed by the Doolagahs. The government decides it’s going to blow up the Mish to stop the Doolagahs from killing the rest of the country, but we know they’re really doing it because they don’t care about black people.’

  He makes me laugh.

  ‘He kills some Doolagahs, and the town is mostly evacuated but a bunch of kids are stuck at the community centre, so he goes to them. The town starts exploding but he flies them out to safety. Then the prime minister gives him a medal or something.’

  ‘Not bad.’

  Tomas rolls towards me and rests his head on my chest like I’m his big pillow.

  ‘So, where are we gonna do it tomorrow?’ he asks with a whisper. ‘In here?’

  ‘Maybe the river. I always thought it would be romantic there.’

  ‘Ro-man-tic?’ Tomas teases.

  ‘Yeah, like I’ll go get some fruit. I’ll pack a blanket and we’ll make some sandwiches, take them in a cooler-bag. I’ll swipe one of Mum’s bottles of wine she’s just had sitting there in the cupboard for years. We’ll take two glasses and have lunch down at the river, on the blanket.’

  ‘Like a picnic?’

  ‘Yeah, a picnic.’

  ‘Sandwiches, mandarins and nectarines for lunch?’

  ‘Yeah. Then we’ll have a glass of wine each. I’ll lay you down while I kiss your neck.’

  ‘Stop it,’ Tomas says, pretending to bite my skin.

  I giggle. ‘What you think?’

  ‘It sounds great,’ he says. ‘But you have to take it slow, this time.’

  I blush again, reminded of the embarrassment. I move past it and kiss his lips. Two kisses, then I rest back on my pillow. I’m still a little wet from the lake, but I’m too tired to care.

  18

  I w
ake next to Tomas. He’s beside me in my bed, still wearing his singlet and shorts. His mouth is open while he sleeps, just slightly. He’s not snoring this time, though. He looks so peaceful, like he’s dreaming about something nice. Maybe about me. I’m careful as I crawl off the bed. I don’t want to wake him. I’ll let him sleep for a little longer, while I ready myself for the day.

  I find my towel on the floor and creep to the bathroom. In the shower, I take the soap and scrub myself harder than I’ve ever scrubbed before, because today’s the day: The day I’ll become sure of everything.

  After the shower, I take my razor to my cheeks and notice that my black eye has darkened. It looks pretty sexy, if I’m being honest. I shave as close to the skin as I can, then wash it all away. I can’t remember ever looking so fresh in the mirror. It brings a smile to my face.

  I go back to my bedroom and Tomas is stirring on the bed. He moans and opens his eyes. ‘My head,’ he mutters. ‘I’m dying.’

  ‘You’ll be right,’ I tease as I lean down and plant a kiss on his lips. I put on my white T-shirt and blue jean-shorts. ‘Come down for breakfast.’

  Downstairs, all the kids are racing around. There’s a headache growing inside me, edging at my temples. I pour two bowls of Coco Pops in the kitchen; set one across from me at the table and pour the milk into mine.

  Tomas stumbles down the stairs and arrives at the kitchen table, his hair in a mess, squinting through puffy eyelids. He adds milk to his bowl.

  ‘So, where do we start with the plan for today?’ he asks.

  ‘You just stay here in bed. I’ll come get you when I’m ready.’

  He nods and smiles, before eating another spoonful of Coco Pops. I go upstairs, grab my wallet and my phone. There’s a message on my phone screen. I ignore it and squeeze everything into my pockets, because my body is rushing to get me out of the house. I head downstairs and Aunty Pam catches me at the bottom of the staircase.

  ‘How’s it going? You and Tomas getting along all right?’ she asks.

  ‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘I wanted to ask you, would you mind if I borrowed your car for the day?’

  ‘All day?’ she asks.

  I nod.

  ‘Well, all right. I don’t need it. Just put some petrol in it, eh?’

  She hands me the keys to her station wagon. I dodge the kids and Mum, who’s chasing them for a game, and head for the driveway.

  I start Aunty Pam’s car and it’s hard to concentrate as I reverse. I have flashes coming to my mind, images of all the things I want for today: everything I’ll need to get, how it will all look when it’s ready, how nervous I’ll be when we’re there together. How it will feel when it happens. How we’ll do it again after a five-minute rest.

  I start along the main street of the Mish. When I pass Tesha’s house, Kalyn’s ute is parked out front. I look for them as I pass, anger bubbling inside me for a moment. I thought it was all gone, but I guess not.

  I drive into town, past the footy fields, which are now just bare and green. A woman throws a toy for her labrador, which runs and jumps to catch it with its mouth. I pass the pub and I don’t see Ethan and the white boys on the balcony in the shade, nor in the beer garden.

  I park behind the shopping centre. It’s a warm day with clear skies and I’m already starting to sweat. I walk inside and go to the bargain store. I search through the aisles and find a perfect brown handwoven picnic basket, which I buy for ten dollars. I go to the supermarket, rip plastic bags from their dispensers and load them with nectarines and mandarins. I take a bunch of grapes and a bottle of cola for the drive home, and head for the checkouts. I wait by all the flowers in their bunches before the checkouts. Do boys get other boys flowers? Do boys like to receive flowers? I imagine that I would like to receive them, so I grab a bunch of yellow roses and take them with me to the checkout.

  I walk it all to the car and drive back out. The street is busy as I wait at the traffic lights by the pub. I spot a parked police car in my rear-view mirror and worry that Constable Rogers is going to walk by the car and see me. He’d probably strip me naked on the side of the road, or maybe he’d just shoot me. I don’t have to find out, though, because the light turns green and I turn past the footy fields and head for the river.

  I load everything into the picnic basket and walk along the pathway, through the bush to the river. The birds are singing at their loudest as I follow the bank along. The sun peeks through the treetops and the water flows strong against the rocks and fallen logs. I walk even further.

  It must take me an hour to get here, but I find the spot I’m looking for. It’s a patch in the sand, under an ancient, giant willow tree, whose trunk has hollowed with age in places. The trunk is so thick, though, that it still has the strength to hold itself up. Grass grows through the sand in places, weak but determined. The patch itself is shaded by the willow tree’s extended branches.

  I realise I’ve forgotten to bring a blanket, I can just get one from home later, along with the wine and glasses. I hide the basket in some bushes by the willow tree and wipe the sweat from my brow. It’s going to be perfect.

  I start back for the station wagon, past the bushes and the dragonflies buzzing around. Then thunder rumbles above me. There are some grey clouds rolling in, and they aren’t dawdling.

  Just great.

  I pull my phone from my pocket to check the weather forecast. Two messages on the screen catch my eye: an older one from Jarny and a newer one from Kalyn.

  I open Jarny’s message first.

  You gay now?

  My heart sinks and I stop walking. My eyes leave the screen and a million things race through my mind. I read the message again. You gay now?

  I open Kalyn’s message.

  I just saw Jarny . . . We should talk.

  My heart feels like it’s going to explode. They know? How? How do they know?

  I text a reply to Jarny.

  What you talking about?

  I’m still standing at the river’s edge. I don’t want to move. I want to grow into one of the willow trees that hang around me. I want anything other than to be me right now. I take a deep breath and let it out again. My face feels hot, and I’m sweating like crazy.

  My phone vibrates – a message from Jarny. I open it and it’s just a photo: a photo of me and Tomas, kissing at the lake last night. It’s dark and it’s blurry, the phone’s camera clearly zoomed in as far as it can go, but it is definitely me and Tomas, under the moonlight, kissing and holding each other in the water.

  Another message comes from Jarny.

  Troy saw you kissing him.

  Tears come to my eyes. Their salt burns me. I start walking again, along the riverside. It’s so hot around me as the bushes bash each other in the growing wind. I want to walk into them and get lost. Just disappear. Never come back. Jarny’s shown the photo to Kalyn. That must be what his message was about. They both know. Everyone will know soon. There’s no escape.

  I wipe away my tears as I make it back to the station wagon. I open the driver’s door and get in. Then I slam it shut and scream. I scream as loudly as I can for as long as I can, and then I cry. I cry hard. I’m not sure of this yet. I’m not ready. I’m not ready to face this, and they know anyway. They hate me. They’ll never talk to me again.

  I start the car and head back to the Mish. I pass my place, check out Kalyn’s, and his ute is parked out front. I don’t want to look at it, though, so I do a U-turn, pull into my driveway. Inside, I pass all the screaming boys. Mum and Aunty Pam notice me but go back to their conversation at the kitchen table. I race up the stairs, push the bedroom door open and find Tomas is on his mattress, cross-legged. He looks up from his sketchbook, and his smile disappears after he’s studied me for a moment.

  ‘You all right?’ he asks.

  I take a breath and close the bedroom door. ‘We have to leave,’ I say. ‘I got Aunty Pam’s keys. You have to leave with me now.’

  ‘Leave where?’ he asks.

&
nbsp; ‘Anywhere. Anywhere else.’ I cradle my face in my hands at the foot of my bed and the tears come again.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Tomas crawls to me and rests his hands on my knees.

  ‘They know. Jarny and Kalyn know. Troy sent Jarny a photo of us from the lake last night,’ I whisper, my voice breaking.

  ‘Oh,’ he says.

  ‘So, we need to leave.’ I take his hands with mine. ‘Everyone will know soon, then everything will change. Everyone will look at me different. They’ll talk about us. They’re probably talking about us now. We have to get out of here.’

  Tomas caresses my hands. ‘It’s all right,’ he says.

  ‘It’s not all right,’ I snap. ‘They know. They will all know. I can’t be that here, not on the Mish. No one will ever talk to me or look at me without feeling sick ever again.’

  ‘Jackson,’ he says, ‘I think you’re overreacting. Just take a breath. All right?’

  ‘Easy for you to say. It doesn’t matter what they think of you. They aren’t your family. They aren’t your community.’

  ‘Jackson,’ Tomas snaps, taking hold of my wrist. ‘Just take a breath.’

  He breathes with me as I steady and breathe in and out, in and out, big deep breaths. He takes my hands again and holds them.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what they think of you,’ he says. ‘If they hate you for it, then why would you even want them in your life?’

  ‘But,’ I begin, ‘everything will change now. We have to leave. I got Aunty Pam’s keys.’

  ‘We can’t just leave,’ Tomas interrupts. ‘I’m on bail. I’m fucked if I run away. And you’ve got a court date, so you’ll be fucked too.’

  I start to calm down. My heart slows and my breathing returns to normal.

  ‘They won’t care,’ he continues. ‘And if they do then fuck ’em.’

  I wipe away the tears on my cheeks. Maybe he’s right.

  ‘But this is the Mish,’ I say. ‘People like us . . . there’s no one else like us here . . . We don’t fit . . . I’m not ready for anyone else to know.’