Queermance Anthology, Volume 2

by Queermance Anthology- Volume 2 [MM-FF] (retail) (epub)

  ‘It’s early,’ she explained to Alexis, ‘But so are you, so that’s perfect.’

  Patricia helped her into her chair and carved the roast.

  Lily insisted they say grace, and then they ate. Alexis was surprised by the quality of the meal. The meat was tender, the vegetables well-cooked but tender and fresh, and the gravy smooth. The potatoes were soft, with crunchy crusts. It was the best meal Alexis had ever eaten.

  ‘God,’ she said between mouthfuls, ‘This is amazing. I must say, I’ve never thought of marrying someone for their cooking before, but after tasting this, I might.’

  Lily stopped eating and stared at her, and so did Patricia.

  After a few more mouthfuls, Alexis noticed, and asked, ‘What?’

  Lily’s face was a study in suppressed amusement. ‘This is Patricia’s cooking, my dear.’

  ‘Oh, God, I-I didn’t-‘ Alexis felt her face heat up and stopped talking.

  Patricia was trying not to laugh. ‘Not every day I get a proposal quite like that.’

  ‘I am so sorry. I did not mean-I thought Lily cooked this.’

  Patricia could not hide her grin. ‘You meant to propose to my mother?’

  Lily giggled. ‘I’d say yes in a heartbeat, darling. You’re so beautiful. Isn’t she beautiful, Patricia?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Patricia, then realised her mistake. ‘I mean, no. I mean I hadn’t noticed.’

  Lily was still giggling. Alexis worried that she might shake her tiny frame apart from sheer mirth.

  Alexis said, ‘I am so, so sorry. I had no idea, I thought-‘

  ‘Oh, pish posh, dearie. Don’t let my sense of humour worry you,’ laughed Lily.

  Alexis noticed that Patricia was blushing too.

  After the meal, they had coffee and cake, then helped Lily load the dishwasher and clean up the kitchen. Lily gave them each a wine glass and shooed them outside. Alexis stepped onto the porch and stared up at the stars for a moment. Out here in the country, the sky was deep black and thousands of stars shone brightly, so that she couldn’t have counted them if she tried. Patricia came out with a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass.

  ‘Thanks for coming tonight,’ said Patricia. ‘I’d have understood if you didn’t.’

  ‘I would have come anyway,’ said Alexis.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Patricia walked up beside her to hand her a glass of wine.

  ‘Even if I was straight, I’d have to be a homophobic jerk to refuse to have dinner with Lily just because you’re not.’

  ‘It happens.’

  ‘I know. Tell me about it. I’ve been on the receiving end of it, you know?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ said Patricia.

  ‘What? Why not?’

  ‘Jesus, Alexis. I thought I was deep in the closet, but you leave me for dead. I would never have picked you as a lesbian.’

  ‘But you did.’

  ‘It was just a hunch,’ admitted Patricia. ‘I wasn’t sure, until you winked at me in the doorway tonight. I could have been wrong. Been wrong about things before.’

  ‘Haven’t we all.’

  Alexis turned to look at Patricia. The light from the porch backlit her curly, dark brown hair in soft gold, and Alexis could just see Patricia’s eyes reflecting the faint starlight.

  ‘Haven’t we all,’ whispered Alexis and put her glass aside. She reached for Patricia and drew her close. She gazed into Patricia’s eyes, which looked dark grey but caught a gleam of light from somewhere. Alexis moved slowly in, and captured Patricia’s mouth in hers, as she had been longing to do all day. God, the woman could kiss. Alexis’s hands moved up to reach into Patricia’s soft curls, and she pulled Patricia tighter to her.

  Patricia wrinkled her nose, but kept kissing Alexis.

  Alexis sniffed.

  Alexis pulled away just enough to start speaking, ‘Is that-?’

  ‘Mum!’ roared Patricia.

  ‘What?’ came Lily’s voice as she walked out of the house with a wrinkled joint in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

  ‘Oh, my God, how many times have I told you not to do that when we have guests?’

  Lily laughed, ‘You’re kissing a girl on my front porch. So what if I’m having a smoke? See, it’s the stress you cause me, Patricia.’

  Alexis couldn’t help but start chuckling.

  Patricia shook her head, but Alexis pulled her close again and whispered, ‘I like the old girl.’

  ‘Everyone does. It drives me nuts. She gets away with everything.’ Patricia’s voice was exasperated.

  ‘Well, we’d better keep kissing, or she’ll have no excuse to finish that smoke,’ Alexis pointed out reasonably.

  Patricia looked at her narrowly. ‘You know, I thought at first you were pretty strait-laced, Alexis.’

  Alexis chuckled. ‘Now you’re just being rude, and I’m going to have to shut you up.’ She ran one hand through Patricia’s seductively soft curls, used the other to reach around her back and pull her tight and kept kissing her. Patricia leaned into the kiss and made a small moan of contentment.

  JESS

  May Wilson

  ��� Freak

  No, no, no, this can’t happen. Not to me. Not today. FUCK.

  Eight weeks ago

  There he is. The way he stands is so beautiful. The bitter westerly wind blowing across the platform makes his cheeks flush. His hair flutters about, all golden and perfect. Fuck, did he just look at me? Oh, God. What am I wearing? A quick look at my reflection in the window behind me and I breathe. I’m dressed for school, not my best ‘look at me, I’m hot’ clothes but not my worst either. I knew I should have changed into my black jeans and red shirt. Red’s a power colour right? Gives off great vibes. Brings all the boys to my yard. Hahaha, I’m such a freak. Only I would sing to myself while worrying about a boy who may or may not have looked at me.

  Thank God, the train is here. I pull my cap down and adjust my long, black fringe so it’s covering half my face. I get on, pick a seat and find my music. Blocking out the chatter and wrinkling my nose at the smell of too many boys wearing way too much Lynx.

  The train is packed. I find a double seat, sit on the one closest to the window and dump my bag on the other. Maybe the dickheads will take the hint and not sit next to me. Head down, headphones on, eyes closed and play pressed: hello twenty minutes of musical madness. This I can do, twenty minutes of peace.

  My new school’s two stops further away than my old one. But that’s okay, I needed the change. My friend, Frankie, from my favourite chat room agreed that it was a good idea. The problem was, living in Australia put me fourteen hours ahead of him. I wasn’t able to chat as much as I wanted because I’m at school when he’s at home, and I’m asleep when he’s awake. Just another Down Under dilemma.

  Finally, after lots of screaming matches, slamming doors and me not eating, my dad relented and let me move schools. I should really thank Matt, my older brother, for making it happen. But I won’t because he can be an asshole when he wants to. I mean, one minute he’s cool and laid back, and the next he’s all worried about me.

  I just want to be left alone to be me. I’ve got to work this out on my own. But no, Matt has to go all big brother, ‘None of the guys giving you a hard time, are they?’ and ‘You need me to pick you up from school and give those guys a smack?’ Even when he says, ‘Looking good today’, I know he’s thinking - Not looking too skinny. I just want to shout at him. I know he means well. He’s protecting me from others and myself. I make one bad decision - okay, like a year of bad decisions - and this is what I get. But he needs to understand that I have to do this my way.

  What the hell? Who moved my bag? A side-eye look and holy shit. It’s him! I wipe my hands on my jeans, drop a little lower in the seat, pull down my button up checked shirt and re-tie my shoes. I got this.

  ‘Hey,’ he says smiling.

  I glance over at him and mumble, ‘Huh?’ Oh, shit. Could I be more stupid? W
hen did a simple ‘hey’ become so freakin’ hard to utter? Keeping my eyes firmly down and studying the dirty linoleum floor, I sigh and try again. ‘No worries’.

  ‘I just wanted to say hi. I’ve seen you around at school. You’re new and I’m the welcome party. Late, I know, but welcome all the same.’ He bumps my shoulder and my whole body notices. My heart pounds and I start to sweat. A quick check of the other kids. No one’s paying attention. That’d be right, everyone is only thinking about themselves. But years of worrying about others and what they think of me has made me hypersensitive. I clench my fists so hard I can feel my nails digging in. I sit on my hands hoping he doesn’t notice I’m a freak.

  ‘I’m Josh.’ His voice is just the right balance of low, rumbling and friendly. I can’t help but smile. When I look up, he’s staring at me with the deepest, brown eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s waiting for me to tell him my name. I know it, but I can barely breathe and I know my face is red from embarrassment and excitement.

  ‘Jess,’ I mumble, and he leans in to hear me. Fuck, he smells like he looks - perfect. I tug at my sleeves to check they’re all the way down and my arms aren’t showing.

  Vulture Street Station Next stop, Vulture Street Station, the bored voice of the automated driver intones, I jump up and swipe my bag from the floor before the train has fully stopped. The train’s sudden deceleration causes me to stumble, and Josh steadies me with a hand to my back. I flinch as if he’s fire. He can’t touch me there. What if he feels it? What if he can tell? I right myself and hurry for the door. The whoosh of the opening door is the greatest thing I’ve ever heard as I flee from the train and bolt up the platform.

  I spend the whole day with my head down as I scurry between classes. If I don’t look for him, I won’t be tempted to hide in the bathroom all day. Lunch is spent at the back of the library, lounging on the big floor pillows and facing the wall. I make myself a fort. Three big floor pillows in the far corner, feet on the wall and a pillow behind me shielding me from the stares of others. The library staff know me and usually leave me alone, as long as I keep my feet off the walls. But today I need to feel the solid walls against my feet, the floor against my back and the safety of the pillows surrounding me. Luckily they leave me alone. Maybe I’m giving off the freak vibe and everyone is staying away.

  I linger after school. My heavy footsteps attest to my inner turmoil: Equal parts euphoria that Josh spoke to me, and fear that he knows I’m a freak. I make sure not to catch my usual train and end up on the one full of workers. I just can’t handle the school train today. It’s amazing the difference an hour makes. One train is full of loud, obnoxious teenagers bragging about their exploits on the weekend. Their drunken antics and sexual conquests - all bullshit if you ask me. And the next train is quiet as everyone is caught in the lure of their mobile phones, their faces pinched like their brains are stuck on a particularly hard algebra problem. I probably look like that every fucking day.

  Four weeks ago

  I check myself in the mirror. It’s been the best investment in my transformation, as I can check myself from all angles and get the whole picture. I can see how I sit and walk, be sure my sleeves are down and my shirt is hanging just so. Shirts need to be tight but not too tight. And checks or patterns are the best, they’re forgiving and hide a multitude of problems. Black or dark jeans, tight on my legs and bum but not on my package. That’s a laugh! Like anyone is checking me out but just in case, I always make sure the shirt is just long enough in the front to cover anything. Autumn has begun; it’s still hot in March but I have to wear the sleeves, to cover my arms. Of course my extra layer just adds to the constant reminder that I’m a freak who’s sweating buckets, in a place billed as ‘Beautiful One Day, Perfect the Next’, at a time I feel anything but beautiful and so far from perfect it’s laughable. People stare but I don’t care. I will suffer the heat and wear clothes that cover up my arms and legs. My Doc Marten boots, found at Lifeline for ten bucks, and a snapback finish off my outfit. I’m hoping for indie rock look and not scary goth, but I’ll take anything over freak.

  Josh is waiting for me at the station. He’s nothing if not persistent. He’s waited every morning for me and never fails to give me a ‘hey’ and a smile. He still makes my heart pound; I have to wipe my hands on my jeans and then sit on them. But he chats like he doesn’t notice me freaking out. He tells me he’s in Year 11 and busy studying and then jokes that I should enjoy Year 10 because next year will suck big time. Pre-season training has started for footy, so he’s only on the morning train. That train ride is the highlight of my day.

  He chats and asks me questions. I mumble a response and look up at him from under my fringe. He has lots of questions, sometimes I answer in a quiet voice or just nod. I’m not confident in my voice yet. I’m practicing, and I think it’s getting better. I just don’t want him to know I’m a freak just yet. I like that he talks to me and makes me feel normal. Maybe he’s my friend. I would love to think he’s my boyfriend, but that’s one step too far. I should be happy to have a friend who’s a boy. And not a boy who’s threatening to bash me or yell obscenities at the freak.

  Josh asks about my family and I tell him it’s just Dad and Matt and me. He says it must be hard with all that testosterone in the house - boys being the disgusting pigs that they are. I laugh, if he only knew - there’s not quite enough testosterone for me. Our house could do with one more boy. Specifically, Josh. He could come over and make it an even four. Dad and Matt would be cool. They know. They’re not completely comfortable with who I am and I’m sure they ask the therapist thousands of questions, but they never make me feel bad - anymore.

  ‘What’re you doing Saturday arvo?’ Josh asks.

  ‘Watching TV and doing an English assignment. You know me, I’m all about the partying,’ I joke.

  ‘I want to go see the new Marvel film at Southbank. Wanna come with?’

  ‘Sure,’ I blurt out before I think.

  ‘Cool, we can catch the 1:50 train for the 2:30 show. Meet me here or there? I’ll text you?’ Josh stops as if surprised and takes a good look at me. ‘Hang on. I don’t have your number. What a fucking idiot. Here we are friends and I don’t even have your number. Give it over.’ He hands me his mobile and waits expectantly for me to punch in the number. I can barely breathe. I quickly wipe my hand on the seat as I grab the phone. I tap in the digits then save it under “Jess”. As I hand it back, his fingers grasp around mine and the phone, and he looks straight into my eyes. It feels like he’s looking straight into my soul.

  I race home to get on chat, it’s five in the morning in Seattle where Frankie lives but maybe he’s up already and can help me. He’ll know how to handle this. What I should wear? How I should act? Or should I just back out now?

  Three weeks ago

  Two days of feeling sick has brought me to this, Saturday morning. I barely slept last night, so I’m up and in the kitchen at 7 am. Vegemite on toast and a cup of tea. Not the most nutritious breakfast, but better than nothing. Matt and Dad lumber in and look at me with shocked expressions. I just nod and say, ‘Hell did freeze over and the world is ending. I’m up, it’s seven and it’s Saturday. Get over it.’

  ‘Well, as you’re up, wanna come with us to the surf club? It’s the last patrol of the season. There’s a bonfire planned for tonight to welcome the winter season and the end of daily patrols.’ Matt smiles as he asks.

  With a lift of my eyebrows and a touch of contempt, I scoff, ‘Umm, no.’

  ‘But it’ll be great. You used to love the beach and the club. Everyone there misses you,’ Dad says as he looks at me with such a hopeful expression.

  Breaking his heart I say, ‘No, Dad, not yet. It’s too damn hot with long pants and long sleeves.’

  ‘Hey, borrow my long sleeve rashie.’ Matt stops as he realises he hasn’t really thought that through and blushes. ‘Sorry.’

  Their faces are drawn as they remember why I don’t want go to the beach. I give th
em an out. ‘Can’t anyway, I’m going to the movies with Josh.’ Their heads snap my way. Oh fuck, I didn’t think that one through. Maybe it’s genetic. Matt and I both speak without thinking. I laugh at myself, and that makes them stare at me more. I can see the wheels turning - a friend, movies, leaving the house - it’s all too much for them in one go.

  Matt rescues me, ‘Great. Well, have fun then.’ He asks Dad some stupid question about work, and Dad gets the picture. No more questions today.

  I shower three times before I leave, I’m so nervous. I think I need Botox for my pits, I’m sweating that much. I settle on the black checked shirt, black jeans, black Docs and my black NY cap. When I look in the mirror, I notice a theme - black. I look like I’m going to a funeral and I sort of am. My own. I’m scared to death. At least I know these clothes look okay. I step outside and curse the scorching sun and the extra layers I have on. Whatever! This is my life now. Well, at least for next year or so. Better get used to it.

  My phone vibrates. It’s Josh. He’s waiting at Hoyts. I breathe a sigh of relief, I won’t have to talk to him on the train because he’s already there. Time for me to get my head together and cool off on the air-conditioned train. My mobile beeps, an IM from Frankie wishing me luck.

  It’s after two when I get to the cinema and Josh is waiting. He looks fantastic: blue shorts, a white, open neck, short sleeve shirt and a pair of well-worn Cons on his feet. He’s looking a bit red, like maybe he got a bit too much sun at footy this morning. I take a deep breath - okay so a short sharp breath because deep breaths hurt - and walk up to him.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey yourself. I got us tickets already because the line was outta hand.’ He smiles and nods towards the snack bar. ‘You get the choc tops and drinks, okay?’

  We wander over and I get us each the special deal of a large Coke, popcorn and a choc top. Holy shit, thirty bucks. That’s a rip off, but Josh paid for the tickets, so I guess he spent about the same.