Fenced-In Felix

by Cheyenne Blue

  I wrote it on a scrap of paper for her. “I never used to need a password, being the only person around here, but one day, I found a couple of backpackers sitting in their van piggybacking off my wi-fi. I wouldn’t have minded, but they were downloading movies or something. Blew my data allowance for the month.”

  “We won’t do that. Sue’s already warned us.”

  Her fingers were deft as she booted up and opened her email. The photo she attached was the one Moni had taken of Ger with Flame. It was a great shot. Ger’s hair was escaping from the messy arrangement, and she was standing in front of Flame, who looked every inch the dainty thoroughbred. Behind them, the expanse of red dirt stretched to the horizon. It was the sort of photo to hang on a wall, captioned woman and horse in outback landscape.

  Nora saw my glance. “Ger’s very photogenic, isn’t she? Unlike me. I’m always squinting, or my eyes are closed, or I’m chewing with my mouth open and you can see my tonsils.”

  Ger came up behind her wife and wrapped her arms around her shoulders and rested her chin on the top of Nora’s head. The pose was one of unselfconscious love and intimacy, and for a moment, I envied them. I wanted the kind of connection with another woman they had, the kind Sue and Moni had.

  I had to swallow before I could continue. “I’m the same. We should take one of us together and see who looks the worst.”

  Ger grinned. “Nora would win.” She released her wife. “She looks the worst in photos of anyone I know.” She glanced at the screen. “Who are you sending the photo to?”

  “Parents—yours and mine.”

  “Can you send it to Young Seánie as well?” Ger looked at me and added, “He’s one of my brothers. He follows the horses—reckons he’s got a foolproof betting scheme.” She turned back towards the screen. “Tell him it’s me and some famous racehorse that he needs to bet the house on.”

  Nora grinned and typed even faster. “I never let an opportunity pass to get one up on Young Seánie. He’s rather…”

  “She wants to say ‘aggressive’, ‘argumentative’, or ‘downright stroppy’,” said Ger. “But she’s watching her words.”

  “Young Seánie is the belligerent type.” Nora finished in a flurry of fingers and hit send. “I’ve told him Flame is a certainty for the Melbourne Cup this year.”

  I grinned. “That’s only the biggest race in Australia. If he follows the races, he’ll know she’s not a contender.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It will get him searching madly for her, trying to see if it’s a legit tip.” Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “He’ll blow the internet trying to find out about the horse.” She closed her laptop. “That’s all. Thanks, Felix.”

  “Now that you know the password for the wi-fi, feel free to use it anytime. You’ll get a connection on the veranda if I’m not around.”

  I left them to their own devices and went down to check on the horses. Geraldine was right; it was indeed a hot day. It wouldn’t be long before the only tourists that came were the hardy or the insane. My little herd would grow sleek on wet-season grass and lazy from having little to do. But in the meantime, business was good.

  CHAPTER 8

  Dinner that evening was a relaxed and happy affair. The others had brought a selection of dips, cheese, and crackers that we nibbled on while I prepared spaghetti carbonara—in truth, the only dish I could make with ease. They had brought beer as well as half a dozen bottles of red wine.

  When I protested the amount of wine, Sue just grinned. “Wait until you see what Nora can put away. She was my drinking companion when I lived in London. Led me well and truly astray.”

  “You didn’t take much leading.” Nora swirled the wine around in her glass. “But honestly, I’ve tried, and I just don’t enjoy beer. So red wine it is.”

  I was drinking wine too, and it was a very pleasant change to my normal beer.

  Sue was right—those six bottles of red wine were not going to last the evening unless we slowed down.

  I concentrated on chopping bacon and mushrooms as the fast-paced conversation swirled around me. I knew Nora and Sue had been best mates in London. But it seemed Moni had also met Nora when she was on a trip to Europe—the same trip where Moni had first met Sue. I’d heard from them how they met and fell in love, a tale that spanned three continents and Sue’s coming to terms with her queerness. I looked over at my friend. Sue had always presented to me as a self-confident, capable person. I could never quite reconcile the Sue I knew with the person who’d spent ten years successfully denying her sexuality to her best friend, Nora.

  “The first time I took Sue to the Pink Parrot—that’s the dyke pub I used to frequent all the time,” she told me in an aside, “she got hit on by the sexiest, most desirable, most unattainable woman in the whole of southern England.”

  “Hey,” said Geraldine, in mock affront. “I was never in the Pink Parrot. And I never went after Sue—no offence, Sue.”

  Sue sighed theatrically. “I only have my dreams of you, Ger.”

  “All right, the second most desirable, second most unattainable woman in the whole of southern England,” Nora amended.

  Geraldine and Moni both grinned, and I envied their easy camaraderie.

  “I’d been pursuing this woman on and off for weeks, and she wouldn’t give me the steam off her piss,” said Nora.

  “Does piss steam in a warm climate?” Geraldine wondered aloud.

  “Of course not. Elementary physics,” said Moni. “But you’re welcome to go outside and conduct your own experiment.”

  “Anyway,” said Nora, “Sue and I were sitting in the Pink Parrot, chatting over a glass of wine. Sue had just started at my work, so I didn’t know her very well, but to me it was obvious that she was one of us.”

  Sue took a gulp of her wine. “Really? How so?”

  “Short hair.”

  “It’s easy to wash.” Sue patted her cropped hair.

  “Short fingernails.”

  “I can’t stand the feel of fingernails on the keyboard.”

  “No makeup.”

  “You fall for those old clichés?”

  “Okay, okay.” Nora threw up her hands. “It’s true. I could be describing my sister, Theresa, who is as straight as Heathrow’s second runway. But there is that indefinable thing, you know? That look, the voice, the aura. That sense of knowing. You all know what I mean, don’t you?”

  I did. And the way the others were nodding, they obviously did too.

  “Anyway,” Nora continued, “there I was, with my new work colleague from Down Under. I thought I was doing her a favour by showing her the best places to go. And she gets an obvious come-on from the woman I’ve been drooling over for weeks. I’m a good friend, so even though my heart was breaking—”

  An amused snort came from Geraldine. “Puh-lease. Your heart was never in danger until you met me.”

  “—I made an excuse and moved away to give Sue space. And I’d gone two paces, if that, and I hear—”

  “Sorry, I’m straight!” chorused Moni and Geraldine.

  Sue smiled, an abashed grin. Any embarrassment she might have felt over the tale was obviously long gone. “What can I say? I have no excuse. I should have grabbed her and run off to the back of the pub.”

  “Grabbed who? Nora?” Moni rose from her seat and picked up the bottle of wine to top up everyone’s glass.

  “Strangely, no. I already got the sense Nora was going to be my very, very good friend. The other woman. I can’t remember her name.”

  “Lex.” That earned Nora a dig in the ribs from Geraldine.

  “Sue did have an excuse, though,” said Moni. Her quiet tones cut through the chatter. “And it’s amazing she’s emerged from those days as nearly normal as she is!”

  Her grin encompassed me, and I remembered Sue’s story of bigotry and shame in a too-small Queensland town. She had told me the bare bones of her story in matter-of-fact tones a few months after she and Moni had got together.

 
“A toast to Sue.” Geraldine raised her glass. “Bringing the gay to outback Queensland.”

  We raised our glasses and clinked.

  The camaraderie of the evening was infectious, and I wished Josie were there. She would be able to hold her own with the quick wits around me, but also, she would enjoy the company. I would have enjoyed hers. For all the inclusiveness, it was hard being a fifth person around two very tightly bonded couples. Small, unconscious gestures of intimacy marked their interactions—entwined fingers, sentences finished for the other. When we finally sat down to eat, Moni knew how much parmesan to put on Sue’s pasta, and Nora ate the red onion out of Ger’s salad. The small knowledge of closeness.

  The food brought calm to the evening. We took our wine and full stomachs to the veranda, pulled the chairs closer together and sat under the ceiling fan.

  “This is my favourite time of day.” Sue set her glass on the table and tucked her legs underneath her. “I love the peace.”

  Nora glanced across at her friend. “To my ears, it’s eerily quiet. I’ve never been anywhere where the silence is so total.” She switched her attention to me. “Do you mind being alone? It’s even quieter here than Mungabilly Creek.”

  “I’m used to it,” I said. “I’d find it hard to live in a city. I’ve only ever spent a couple of nights in Brisbane and Sydney. Of course, that’s also why I’m alone. I have few chances to meet someone living here.”

  “Do you want someone in your life, Felix?” Ger’s words were quiet, and she regarded me steadily.

  “I’d like it, of course, but I’ve accepted that my chances are slim.” Josie’s sharp, intelligent face flickered at the edge of my mind.

  “Not impossible.” Moni propped her chin on her hand. “Let’s think. Who is there?”

  Four pairs of eyes stared at me in assessing fashion. As much to distract them as anything, I said, “Actually, I’ve met someone. She’s a friend at the moment, but I’m hoping.” The memory of Josie’s lips teasing mine and the strength of her grip on my upper arms flashed in my head.

  “A tourist?” Sue swirled the wine in her glass.

  “No. She works in the pub in Woorindi. She’s been here a few weeks. Flame is her horse.”

  “If she brought her horse, she must be planning on staying around. It’s not like taking Ripper along.”

  Ripper, who was curled up between Sue and Moni, looked up at his name.

  “I hope so.” I didn’t want to say much more about my thoughts where Josie was concerned. It felt too new, too nebulous to be sharing my hopes, even with friends. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s coming to ride with us.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” Genuine support and friendship emanated from Sue. “I promise not to give her the third degree.”

  “Please don’t. It feels premature even mentioning it to you.”

  “We’ll behave. Promise.” Moni seemed delighted that there was even the possibility of someone for me. “If she’s around tomorrow night, she can sample Nora’s attempt at outback cooking.” Moni’s eyes were wide and free of guile.

  “A client gave me a kangaroo for the freezer,” Sue said. “Nora wants to cook.”

  “I’ve never cooked on a campfire,” said Nora.

  “So will your friend be here for Nora’s exploded potatoes and charcoal steak?” asked Ger.

  “Yes, she’s got two days off in a row, so she’ll bring her tent.”

  Nora sipped wine. “Campfire cooking can’t be that hard. It’s hardly survival stuff. I found a recipe. Even brought some ingredients over from the coast in anticipation of cooking kangaroo. I wasn’t sure if you could get saffron out here.”

  “Fair bet you can’t,” I said. “I’ve never had saffron and kangaroo on the same plate.” In truth, I wasn’t sure what saffron tasted like. It wasn’t something I’d ever seen stocked in Worrindi.

  “Maybe I should serve it on a banana leaf or something?” Nora wondered.

  “Good luck getting that here.”

  “Sue wouldn’t let me build a campfire in their backyard. She said to wait until we came here, where there’s nothing I can burn down.” Nora grinned at her friend. “Her faith is touching.”

  I left most of my wine in the glass. I seldom drank wine, and it was going to my head. Maybe that’s what had made me open up more than usual and mention Josie. Or maybe it was just the company of two good friends. Nora and Ger seemed nice as well. It was a pity they didn’t live closer.

  In the ten days they’d been in Australia, Nora and Ger had seen more places than I had in my thirty-eight years. They talked about Sydney, the Harbour Bridge climb, and the lesbian bars in Newtown. I’d been to Sydney once in my life, and I’d never been to a lesbian bar. I’d only visited the Great Barrier Reef briefly, where they were headed next to go snorkelling. And the nearest I’d come to Melbourne, their final destination, was watching the Melbourne Cup on the TV each year.

  Josie had probably been to all those places and more. One day, I vowed, I would see more of Australia. I’d go to Sydney for Mardi Gras. I’d visit Melbourne and experience its cafés and laneway culture. And then I’d come home to Jayboro Station, where I belonged, and where I would always live.

  It was early when Josie’s car pulled into the yard. I’d been up for an hour, enough time for a coffee and a stroll around the silent campground. Josie’s suggestion of a dog was a good one. I’d thought about creeping into Sue and Moni’s cabin to see if Ripper wanted to come with me, but that would have meant waking them.

  I exited the barn and saw Josie getting out of her car. Her mauve jeans were paired with an orange T-shirt, and her hair stuck out in a wiry mass.

  “Hey.” She shut the door quietly, in consideration of the sleeping campers, and waited.

  She opened her arms when I went up to her, and I kept walking straight into them. She smelt of dust and coffee, and when I kissed her, she tasted of the same.

  “Thought I’d come early to help with the horses.”

  “I was just about to get them in.”

  I grabbed the halters from the barn and we walked to the paddock. All seven of them were dozing in a tight huddle. With Josie to help, it didn’t take long. Flame followed us across the paddock, and when she realised she was left behind, she trotted in a tight circle, her head up and her tail streaming out behind her, whinnying her displeasure.

  I stopped for a moment to admire her clean lines. “You’ll really have to ride her one day,” I said. “The poor girl is bored senseless.”

  “Yeah. One day soon. Not with too many other people, though.”

  “How old did you say she was?”

  “Seven, I think.”

  “I looked at her teeth, and they aren’t discoloured yet. I think she’s closer to five.”

  Josie fiddled with Budgie’s halter rope and smacked him on the neck with it when he bared his teeth at Jetta. “I don’t think she’s that young. I was told seven.”

  “Then you haven’t had her very long?” I frowned. I thought Josie had said she’d owned her a while.

  “A bit less than a year.”

  Something didn’t quite add up, but I figured Josie was just mistaken on her age. “She must be older than she looks, then.”

  “Yeah. So, I’m riding Diesel? That will be different.”

  I ran with the change of subject. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate having a decent rider for once.”

  Josie looked back to where Diesel plodded behind the others, his halter rope over his neck. He’d never needed leading. “I’ll be nice to him.”

  With Josie to help, all six of them were ready in record time. We walked over to the campground and met Nora heading for the amenities block. She waved. “Ger’s gone to check her email on your veranda,” she called. “Hope that’s okay.”

  I gave her a thumbs up, and we continued to the house.

  “Coffee?” I asked Josie. It struck me that she had yet to set foot in the house other than the office or the veranda.
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  “Yes, please.”

  Ger sat on the veranda, typing with two fingers on a tablet. She looked busy, so I took Josie into the kitchen through the other door. I filled the kettle and found the better of the two brands of instant coffee I used. Josie looked intently around the room as I spooned coffee into three mugs. I wondered what she thought of my shabby kitchen and old-fashioned house. I’d had a couple of the interior walls removed so that Mum could get around in her wheelchair, and put in a wide shower that could accommodate it, but there hadn’t been the money to update the decor. Consequently, there were ragged, unfinished edges, and the interior timber frame was visible in several places.

  I made three mugs of coffee and handed one to Josie. “You can see the rest of the house later. Come and meet Geraldine.”

  We took our coffee outside. Geraldine looked up. “Sorry I ignored you when you came in; I wanted to reply to my brother before he went out.”

  I handed her a coffee. “Sugar’s inside if you want it.”

  She breathed a heartfelt sigh. “Thank you. I’ve been dying for a cup.”

  “Ger,” I said, “this is Josie. Josie, this is Geraldine.”

  I watched Ger’s reaction to Josie. Her smile was spontaneous, and she nodded. “I’m happy to meet you. I heard about you last night. And I met your horse. She’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks. She is a sweetie.”

  “I bet she’s glorious to ride. All that free-flowing motion.”

  “Yeah. But I can’t ride her at the moment. Her tack is stuck in South Australia.”

  “Hopefully it will arrive soon.” Ger sipped her coffee, and her eyes closed in appreciation before she took a bigger gulp. “Nora took a photo of me with Flame yesterday and sent it to my brother to stir him up. She told him that Flame was a hot tip to win the Melbourne Cup this year. We wanted to drive him crazy—you don’t know Young Seánie. I figured he’d be up all night scouring the internet and trying to place a bet on a non-existent horse. He’s just replied to Nora’s email.”

  “Did he bite?” Josie sat opposite Ger.