“We were wondering if you would have them over here. Might be more relaxed” said Sandro without looking at me.
“What’s this we business?” I asked him, furious. “Of course it was not my idea. And when you brought it up, I told you it was a terrible plan.” I blushed, realising that sounded insulting. “Sorry Gabriella. That came out wrong.” I sat looking as sulky as Sandro can. Gabriella regarded us both thoughtfully and came to a decision.
“Let’s see if they want to come. If not, we can go out to dinner, or just meet for drinks.” I was miserable. They would probably want to come. Mum would be keen to see what I’d gotten myself into. As a child though, every time I found some family I liked she criticised them continually and put obstacles in my way to prevent me from spending too much time with them. Gabriella smiled. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she said. “Leave it until you’re ready.”
Tears came into my eyes at her kindness and were blinked away. This was excruciatingly embarrassing. “It wouldn’t make any difference how long we left it,” I said miserably. Sandro tried to put his arm round me, but I shook him off, angry. “My parents are nothing like yours. You know that.” Turning to Gabriella, I said “the last and only time my mother met Sandro, he asked her to leave my house.”
Gabriella was stunned. Sandro sheepish. “She was horrible to Bridey about some friends we’d had around; and there was other stuff going on.” It sounded lame like that. Things were even more awkward now. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and at that very moment the two girls came into the kitchen.
“What are you doing Sandro, you monster?” Carmel flashed, putting her arm around me.
“What time’s dinner Mum? We might take a walk.” I flicked him a grateful look and stood up. Joanne growled, “You be nice Sandro, or I’ll kill you!”
As soon as we were outside, I said, “Can we just go home do you think?” He was quiet, half angry and the other half feeling sorry for me. We were in their beautiful back garden. It was chilly, and I was shivering. He rubbed his hands briskly up and down my arms and then folded me into him as I sobbed miserably. “Why is everything such a big deal for me?” He laughed softly and kissed my face.
“With my family, you don’t need to worry about feeling embarrassed. You can be sure they’ll all blame me.”
By the time Carmel stuck her head out to call us, my emotions had settled, so taking a deep breath, I said to everyone in the kitchen, “Sorry about that. It was definitely not Sandro’s fault.” They all snorted derisively, and he scowled, “See.”
“And now you’ve frightened her into apologising.” Joanne was looking grim, but Sandro went over to her and said in his softest voice, “You watch it brat; one more and you’re in deep shit!”
She grinned at him. “Let’s eat folks. I’m starvingated.”
“No seriously,” I tried again, “it wasn’t Sandro who made me cry, it was my mother. Wait ‘til you meet her. It’s going to be a challenge for everyone.” They all seemed up for it, so we made plans and even I started to believe it might work. One thing was certain. They were all on my side.
***
The Source
Josh turned up, as arranged, at Sandro’s town house just before eleven o’clock the following day. Flagran answered the door because his host was out collecting a parcel from the Post Office. By the time Sandro returned, Flagran had watched Josh case the place and attempt to nick some change from the small table where Sandro threw his gear when he came in from the car. Forced to return it, he turned to Flagran, resentful.
“This geezer’s got more money than he knows what to do with!”
“Yes, and you need some of it, otherwise you won’t be able to do the course, so behave!”
His young friend was restless. “When’s he coming then?”
The two had already discussed at length about Sandro not being the type to attempt placing him in a home, but Josh didn’t trust anyone. For fifteen minutes they played a video game, but Josh was bored. “I’m off,” he said. They both looked up at the sound of the garage door.
“Why didn’t he drive that cool Ferrari?”
“Because he likes to keep fit,” Flagran told him. “He walks most places. Keeps the car clean and the guck out of his lungs.” Light steps ran up the stairs, and Josh slipped behind Flagran. The door opened, and Sandro threw his keys on the table.
“Sandro, this is Josh. Josh, say hello to Sandro.”
“G’day,” Sandro said cheerfully. “You been beating Flagran?” he jerked his head towards the computer.
Flagran snorted. “As if!”
“Must be hard when you don’t have a computer, eh?”
Josh had been wondering how the conversation would go. He now thought of a major obstacle. “Well, I don’t have a home. So, even if I did have one, it couldn’t stay out on the streets, it’d be nicked the first night.” He was warming to his subject. “Hey, Flagran just imagine the police finding me with a computer. This isn’t gonna work.”
“When does the course start?”
Flagran took over the conversation seating himself at Sandro’s laptop and opening Google. He looked up TAFE courses and found info on becoming a Carer. “Come over here Josh.” The boy peered over his shoulder. “There’s a mid-year back to study course. Whaddya think about that?”
Sandro stood with his coffee watching the scared, eager young face.
“What makes you think you’d like to be a Carer?”
“I dunno.”
“There must be some reason you’re looking at that.”
Josh squirmed. “It was Flagran.”
“I reckon it’d be hard having to look after old and sick people, wipe their bums and stuff food back into their mouths when it fell out.”
Josh looked embarrassed wondering if Sandro thought it wasn’t tough. “I just like them, I guess.”
This simple answer worked wonders on Sandro. “Well, if that’s what you want, I’ll help out with the expense so long as you put the work into it.”
“No strings?”
“No strings.” Sandro regarded him thoughtfully, “but if you steal from me, the deal’s off.”
Josh faced him square and promised he would never steal from him. Sandro shook his head. “Well, let’s start now. Empty your pockets.” Josh flew up in a rage. “What? Why should I? Forget it. You’re like everyone else!” He made for the door, and Sandro blocked his path.
“You’re not leaving here until you give me back the five bucks that was on that table.”
Dismayed, Flagran took over. “Josh! You swore it was only coin.”
Between the two of them, the option of leaving didn’t look promising. He held out his hands, empty, in front of him. Sandro took a step towards him, but Flagran pushed him aside easily. Taking Josh’s hands in his own he held them open saying gravely, “You came into this room with these empty, like this. You need to leave with them in the same state.” Josh struggled to yank his hands out of Flagran’s grip, but the Caretaker’s were like handcuffs. The two wrestled silently with each other’s will. Eventually, Josh ducked his head, Flagran dropped the hands, and the boy put one hand into the pocket of his jeans and drew out nine dollars. He flung it on the floor between them.
“That’s better,” said Flagran. “Now you can leave.” He stepped back to the door and held it out for the boy to pass through, closing it behind him. He turned to Sandro. “Sorry about that mate. Luckily there’s still a month or six weeks before the course starts. Gives him time to sort himself out.”
Sandro groaned. “I don’t like the feel of this. Looks like complications.”
“Yep. Getting involved always comes with complications. That’s something ‘do gooders’ never seem to get.”
Sandro winced. “What happens now?”
“We let him consider his position for a day or two. Without mentioning anything about it, we invite him for a meal. Give him a chance to do it differently. The problem is, now he feels shamed he’s more likely
to try to prove himself the bad guy with you. This has happened to him pretty well every time someone’s attempted to help him. He wanted you to think well of him, and now he knows you’ve seen his true colours, we’re in trouble.”
“Great!” Sandro threw his empty coffee cup into the recycling and pulled out some bread for a snack. Flagran watched him.
“What do you think he’s eating now?”
Sandro shrugged, but the point was clear. “Okay. When do we make our next move?”
“Give him a couple of days, then I’ll look him up.”
***
Bridey
Dad rang me. I was so startled, at first I couldn’t work out who was ringing. He asked me how I was. I told him I was doing okay and asked him how he was doing, and then we got stuck. The awkward silence eventually broke when he told me he missed me. My throat choked up, and words wouldn’t come for a couple of minutes. But I did manage to tell him it was good to hear from him and hoped we would see each other soon. The whole thing was extraordinary. The courage to approach the idea of meeting Sandro’s family came from nowhere. He wasn’t so sure about this.
“I dunno Bridey. If that’s the man your mother met the other day, I don’t think she liked him.” That was putting it mildly.
“We got off to a bad start. Mum was in one of her moods. They were both at fault.”
“Well, I’ll ask her, but don’t hold your breath.” No, that wouldn’t help at all.
“Thanks for ringing me, Dad. It’s good to hear your voice.”
I’d no idea I was missing him, until he did that.
***
The Source
Sandro and Flagran caught up with Josh four days later. Any awkwardness had passed. Josh was a master at hiding discomfort. They took him to a cafe for a meal where he ate a toasted sandwich, chips, a large glass of fresh orange juice (for the vitamins, he informed Flagran) and a hot chocolate. As the Caretaker didn’t eat, Josh’s plan was for Flagran to order so he could eat his too.
“You’re making the most of this, aren’t you?” Sandro said.
Josh simply ignored him. Flagran watched the two with silent interest.
“You going to eat those?” The meal had come with bread rolls. Josh was stuffing these into the pockets of his jacket. He shot Sandro a challenging. “What? There’re free.”
Sandro shrugged.
“So what’s the plan? You going to study, or not?”
“I thought you wouldn’t do it now.”
“You took the money before we met. All good now. Let’s start again.”
“Why?” It was a straightforward question and required a clear answer.
“I guess I fancy myself as a “do gooder”.
Josh grinned. “Let’s see if you’re any good at it.”
“Who are the rolls for Josh?” Flagran asked.
“There’s a mate of mine who hasn’t eaten anything for a few days. He’s been sick.”
“Shall we come with you?”
Josh considered this. “You can come as long as you don’t try to take him to hospital.”
The Caretaker shook his head. “If he’s really sick, we can’t leave him on the streets to die.”
“Nah. He’s not bad now. Just needs some food.” Josh turned to Sandro, “can we buy some milk or something to soak the bread in. He’s got no teeth, and he’s not very strong.”
Sandro considered this. “How about soup?”
They checked out the menu, but the soup there seemed too fancy for Josh, so they found some plain pumpkin at another shop further down the street and took it with them. Along the way someone asked Sandro for some money, and he had his hand in his pocket when Josh nudged him and muttered “no”. They walked on.
“So what’s that about?”
“He’s a real bastard that one,” Josh informed him. “He’s into everything. You don’t want to give him a grin. He’d try to sell it as soon as you turn around.”
They met one or two of Josh’s other acquaintances as they walked. Sandro began to appreciate the young man beside him. When they reached Mick’s pile of bedding, under an old run down porch in a back alley, Josh squatted down chatting away to the old man while Sandro absorbed it all. The roll dipped in soup took some time to get down. Mick was in a very bad way, but Josh assured them he was coming round.
“You’re good at this, Josh.”
“Nah, someone’s got to have your back, that’s all.” Josh wasn’t keen on compliments. They usually came before some knock or other. “Well. Do you reckon you’ll help me study this stuff? I want to get a job; find a place of my own to live.”
“I’m keen. The difficulty is where you are going to keep your computer, paper and stuff? Where will you study?”
Josh shrugged. “I’ll work something out.”
Flagran decided to put it out there. “How about Bridey’s?”
Sandro stared at him horrified.
“What? You think I’ll rip her off?”
“I dunno. Who knows what might happen?” Josh walked away, disgusted.
“Leave him go Sandro. He’ll sort it out. If he doesn’t, we’re on the wrong track.”
“You’re not seriously considering asking Bridey to have Josh in and out of her place.”
“Why not? We all meet there. It’s somewhere safe to keep his stuff. You could put up a shed or something.”
“I don’t even know this guy.”
“No. But I do.”
***
Bridey
The weekend was fast approaching. Sandro had his head down focussing on business, and I was shaping the questionnaire which needed approval by my supervisor before Dandenong on Thursday. We hardly saw each other. Focussing on academic stuff helped keep the anxiety in check, but our trip away was triggering great surges of terror. This man was not only experienced but had lived an exotic life for many years. He was confident, sure of himself, thought he was irresistible, always appeared to be in charge and was constantly having to help me along, financially, emotionally. It was impossible to come to terms with his attraction for me. There were no sexual experiences I could recall, which had been more than just a whole lot of hot groping ending in orgasm. The worst of it was feeling dirty afterwards. Most of my difficulties were blamed on my parents, which of course was very unfair because they had strange parents too, but they could have done something about it instead of giving me constant confusing messages about sex.
There were no moral restrictions on my activities, but lots of focus on the safety stuff. After the first date with Sandro, I’d gone back on the pill. This was simple. All my struggles with sex lay in the emotional realm; and the physical one. The latter had to do with his possible expectations of what we might do and my discomfort with expressing my needs. While we were waiting for this, I’d many times wondered if I was too needy sexually. Maybe he wouldn’t like that. Whenever we found ourselves in intense situations, the sexual ones, not the fighting which happened constantly, it was impossible to know what was okay to express. My family must have adopted me. (Absolutely no sign of passion there.) On top of those worries, what if one of my neurotic fits took over and obliterated the weekend. What if I woke up after sex feeling, I dunno, disappointed or inadequate or something. It didn’t help that Sandro was moody and distant. This always set off the fear he would leave.
Times when boyfriends wanted me to watch porn with them kept coming back into my head. While it turned me on, most of it was also quite gross, and being turned on by that made me feel sick. Lots about this didn’t make sense. Guys kept telling me I was hot and then needing something to get them going. It left me feeling like a failure.
The closer Friday approached, the more my agitation grew. If we’d gone for it at the beginning, I might have slipped through all this without worrying. But then I might also have decided I was a failure, and all we’d been through would have been twice as complicated. No, it was just the pressure, self-imposed, coupled with the loneliness of having no one to he
lp. Sex couldn’t possibly be a subject for Caretakers. They had no bodies.
Despite this, I was lurking hoping to try talking with Homarta about it; anything to settle me down. Irri-tat was always around. She was a sweet little thing, but I certainly wouldn’t be bearing my soul in front of her.
Fortunately, Homarta always seemed to pick up on people’s moods. I was sitting on the back step Thursday afternoon, just hanging around, when she said. “Irri dear, Flagran wants you to go out with him this afternoon to show you some sights before you go back to the mountains.” In her usual way, Irri-tat was scared by this. She treated Flagran like a huge and frightening dog, who bounced around her too much. All his efforts to win her over had resulted in minimal progress. She loved Torrenclar. The attraction was similar to the one you feel with a teacher when you’re sixteen. He seemed quite comfortable with it, but he could only take it in small doses.
“I don’t think I’ll go Homarta,” Irri-tat tried.
Homarta was firm. “Yes you will. It will do you good.”
The familiar mulish look spread over her face, and I groaned thinking we’d never get some time alone. But Homarta said simply, “you can take that look off your face. You are here to learn, and you have to take some risks before you go back to the mountains.” Then she added a clincher. “If you don’t do this, I’m not taking you back next week.”
Tears vied with anger. Irri could be extremely stubborn when she chose to take a stand. Her jaw set and her eyes were clearly saying she didn’t have to do anything Homarta told her to. Flagran’s arrival solved the problem instantly. He took her by the hand and didn’t give her a choice. Despite all his efforts to win her over, he wasn’t at all worried about her not liking him.
Left alone now, together in the garden, the idea of discussing sex with Homarta vanished. For a moment, even the topic wouldn’t come into my mind. Maybe it was time for me to retreat and do homework.
“How are you feeling about the weekend Bridey?”
It was a huge battle to force words out and tears, always frustratingly accessible when they were least wanted and impossible to connect with when they were needed, stopped me from talking. Sandro couldn’t understand it. Homarta could.
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