Trucker and Pup

by Drew Hunt

  Joey raised Kevin’s chin. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Pup. Never ever think otherwise. You don’t realise how strong you are. How many people could have coped with what you’ve gone through and still come out sweet and loving?”

  As usual his sir had said exactly the right thing. Kevin soon began to feel much better. Although he would have liked nothing more than to be able to sit on Joey’s knee all day, Kevin knew they had to get moving, so reluctantly climbed back into the passenger seat and buckled himself in.

  Before firing up the powerful diesel engine, Joey said, “You know, those canal bikes that Lars was on about sounded like they’d be a load of fun. Wada ya say we try one, eh?”

  Kevin swallowed. “Uh, yeah, okay, Sir.”

  Joey burst out laughing. “I was just messin’ with ya, Pup.”

  * * * *

  Although the sun shone brightly, there was a definite chill in the air. Joey managed to find a parking space in a car park which also accepted lorries. As they walked out of the car park, Kevin noticed a set of tram lines.

  “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever been on a tram.”

  “Not even in Blackpool?”

  “Nah, mum and dad thought they were too expensive.”

  “Okay, I was gonna get a taxi into the city centre, but if you’d rather go by tram—”

  “Oh, yes, Sir.”

  “Then tram it is.”

  As they were conveyed towards the centre of the city, Joey consulted the booklet Lars had given him. “If we get off at the next stop, we’ll be able to get a canal bus.” Looking at Kevin’s worried expression, Joey continued. “They’re perfectly safe.”

  Kevin wasn’t convinced.

  “Do you trust me?”

  Without even thinking about it, Kevin agreed that of course he did.

  “Well, then,” Joey stood up and made his way to the door, Kevin dutifully following.

  * * * *

  To Kevin’s surprise, the canal ride was fun. There was an audio commentary about the city, which he listened to with interest. It was relaxing watching as all the historic buildings slowly floated past, the commentary giving a potted history of many of them.

  “Okay, stop C, this is us,” Joey announced.

  “Huh?”

  “You said you wanted to do some shopping.”

  The pair got off the barge, Joey helping Kevin disembark.

  * * * *

  Kevin was moved by the many old buildings which lined the narrow streets. Looking up at their impressive facades, he got a real sense of going back in history to a simpler time.

  The first thing on Kevin’s agenda was to pay a visit to Anne Frank’s house. However, he was dismayed at the long line of people queuing to gain admittance.

  “I don’t mind waiting,” Joey said.

  “No, sor-right. It might not be your sort of thing anyway.”

  Kevin turned to walk down Prinsengracht. He was disappointed; he’d read Anne’s diary as a child and never thought he’d ever get the chance to visit the place where it had all happened. But there was little point in standing out in the cold for an extended period.

  After a look round a couple of museums—which Kevin found interesting, but knew his sir did not—Joey suggested they go and have a cup of coffee. Kevin’s legs were beginning to ache, and he found he was starting to get hungry, too.

  As usual, and despite Kevin’s protests, Joey insisted on paying for their meal. Kevin put up a token protest, but when Joey gave him the look, he capitulated.

  “This is your treat, Pup, so I’m gonna spoil you.”

  As they sat eating their overpriced sandwiches and drinking their hot beverages—Joey a cappuccino and Kevin a hot chocolate—the latter couldn’t help staring inquisitively at the people who came down the staircase from the upper storey.

  After a few minutes, Joey said, “We could have taken our food upstairs if you’d have wanted.”

  “Oh, no, Sir,” Kevin said with conviction.

  Joey raised an eyebrow. Kevin felt compelled to disclose what was on his mind. He strongly suspected the café sold cannabis upstairs, he thought he got a whiff of it every now and again.

  Joey grinned. “Maybe I ought to go up and get myself a roach, eh?”

  Kevin paled, causing Joey’s mirthful expression to disappear. Squeezing Kevin’s hand, Joey silently asked what was wrong.

  “Cal used to, uh…”

  Joey’s fingers massaged Kevin’s hand, helping him to relax. “I was joking, Pup. I don’t think driving a lorry while high is a good idea. Plus I’d never do anything that would frighten you.”

  Kevin let out a breath, realising he’d got himself worked up over nothing, again. He smiled up at his loving and gentle sir, silently telling him he was okay, but was very grateful for his reassuring words.

  “Wanna look round the market a bit?” Joey asked.

  “Yeah, why not.” Kevin stood.

  “Says here that The Nine Streets, the area between Raadhuistraat, Leidsestraat, Singel and Prinsengracht is packed with boutiques, cafes and beautiful houses,” Joey said consulting the guide book which Lars had given them.

  “I’d like to get something for Peter and Terry,” Kevin said, looking round at the plentiful array of shops.

  “Do you usually do stuff like that?”

  “Sort of. They’re always bringing me stuff back when they go away. I don’t…Well, I don’t get to go to many places, so…I want to get them something.”

  “Okay.” Joey gave Kevin’s shoulder a squeeze.

  After searching for a while, Kevin thought he’d found just the right thing. It was rather kitsch, but he knew Peter would like it.

  “You sure?” Joey said, looking speculatively at the wooden plate Kevin was holding. It had a windmill attached to the front, with a painted scene behind. When the windmill’s sails were turned it wound up a music box which played ‘Tulips From Amsterdam’.

  “You think he’ll like it?” Joey said, still regarding the object with disdain.

  “Yeah, he likes music boxes. And this one is a bit different.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “I’ve still gotta find something for Terry, though.”

  “Food,” Joey said simply.

  Kevin giggled. “That’s not nice.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. Actually I kind of like Terry, though god alone knows how he puts up with that boyfriend of his.”

  “Peter’s not too bad, once you get to know him.”

  The pair walked along the pavement. After a minute or so, Kevin thought he’d found something he could get for Terry. Going into a delicatessen, he emerged a couple of minutes later carrying a wrapped sphere.

  “What’s that?” Joey asked.

  “A whole Edam cheese.”

  “Why? You can get them in the supermarkets at home.”

  Kevin was despondent at the derision which his sir was showing.

  Joey seemed to pick up on Kevin’s mood, and gently took the large and heavy cheese from him. “Sorry, Pup. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it. I suppose I ought to get something for Mum and our Simon.”

  “Oh yeah, I’ll get him something, too.”

  “You don’t have to, you know.”

  “I want to. I had a great time the other day at the bonfire with him.”

  “Yeah, he’s a good kid.”

  As they walked back down Prinsengracht, Kevin noticed there was no queue outside the old spice warehouse, part of which had formed the hiding place for the Frank family during the last war.

  “Come on, we might as well go in now while it’s not too busy,” Joey said, steering Kevin through the door.

  Kevin realised part of the house must have been modernised, because it had several audio visual presentations of what life was like for the eight people who lived in the annex on the upper storeys. It just seemed incredible to Kevin that the families weren’t even able to flush the toilet during the day while the warehouse was occupied. Equally they had to
be careful how they walked across the floor, one squeaking board could give them away. Kevin got so absorbed in the lives of the Frank’s, the Van Pell’s, and the others, he didn’t immediately notice that Joey had grown quiet. Looking round, he saw Joey was rather pale, too.

  “Sir, you okay?” he asked under his breath.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, honestly. Listen, do you want to have a look at the annex itself?”

  “Um, yes, I would.”

  The pair made their way up a flight of stairs, Kevin seeing where the bookcase had once concealed the entry to it.

  The rooms were small, Kevin tried to imagine how crowded it would have been living with seven other people, never being able to go out for a walk, do the shopping or whatever. He shuddered at the thought of having to stay quiet during the day, not showing any lights at night because of possible allied bombing. He realised how narrow such an existence would be, the constant fear of betrayal and discovery never far away.

  The rooms in the annex were devoid of furniture, which had been removed by the Nazis when the families were betrayed in 1944. The only decoration being innumerable postcards and other items pinned to the walls.

  Kevin felt chilled at how spartan the place was. He tried—but failed—to imagine what it would be like for a teenage girl, full of life, to have to live for over two years in such a place.

  Glancing at Joey, Kevin could tell his sir was becoming increasingly ill-at-ease. When the group of people who had been in the room with them left, Kevin took hold of Joey’s hand. “Sir, you don’t look well.”

  His words were confirmed when Joey turned to face him, his eyes—Kevin struggled to define what he saw. Joey looked lost, bewildered, even a little frightened.

  “Sir, I want to leave now.”

  “You sure? We haven’t looked in all the rooms yet.” Joey’s voice sounded hollow.

  “I’m sure.” Kevin took Joey’s arm, and guided him unresisting down the steps and onto the street where Joey took in several deep lungfuls of air. It gave him a little more colour, but his complexion was still pale.

  “Do you want us to go back to the rig?” Kevin said, feeling helpless at seeing his man so unlike his usual confident self.

  “Um,” Joey rubbed at his face, “it’s still early, we, um…”

  Feeling strength he didn’t know he possessed, Kevin said, “Let me put it another way. Please, Sir, take me back to the rig.”

  Joey nodded and started to walk down the street, Kevin following, ever more disturbed at his lover’s state of mind.

  Chapter 13

  Staring up at the shadows on the cabin ceiling, Kevin didn’t know what to do. He’d been told by a rather sullen Joey he had to sleep in the top bunk. Masking his fear and sense of rejection, he’d climbed the ladder and tried to sleep, but not surprisingly he’d remained wide awake. The constant rolling of the ferry as it plied its way across the North Sea did little to calm his already frayed nerves.

  Kevin had lain for a couple of hours listening to his lover toss and turn on the bottom bunk, the bed letting out a creak of protest each time Joey moved. Much to Kevin’s distress, he could hear the occasional sigh from his man as he also lay awake. It wasn’t normal for Joey not to be able to sleep, but then nothing had been normal that afternoon. Kevin castigated himself yet again for insisting on visiting Anne Frank’s house. Joey was Jewish, albeit not a practicing one, but why hadn’t he realised that bringing his lover face to face with the atrocities of the holocaust was stupid and thoughtless?

  Was that a sob? Kevin strained his ears, and when the sound was repeated he was certain. Driven by his sense of love and loyalty, Kevin pulled back the sheet and making as little noise as possible, climbed down the ladder. In the gloom, Kevin was able to see that Joey was facing the wall, his sheet and blankets in disarray and lying half-way down his back.

  “Sir?” Kevin whispered, putting a hand on his man’s bare upper arm. Was that a shiver?

  “Go back to bed.” The voice sounded empty and desolate. Joey pointed to the top bunk, the movement dislodging Kevin’s hand. Feeling rejected and close to tears, Kevin escaped into the small bathroom.

  Gazing at his forlorn reflection in the mirror, Kevin felt a wave of disgust wash over him. This isn’t about you! Stop being so fucking self-centred! Your sir is hurting, and it’s up to you, you pathetic little wimp, to do something.

  As Kevin took several gulps of water, a sense of calm determination began to diffuse through his body. He knew what he had to do. Though it scared him to his marrow, he knew there was no alternative.

  Setting his jaw and squaring his shoulders, Kevin reached for the door handle. His hand shook, but his inner voice told him he had made the right decision. From the small amount of light coming through the port hole, Kevin could see Joey was still facing away from him. As he neared the bunk, he could hear the blood pumping in his ears, he was about to disobey a direct order, something which didn’t sit at all comfortably with him.

  Another internal voice piped up, causing Kevin to falter. It’s not your place to interfere. Joey’s your superior and he told you to leave him alone.

  Without even being aware of what was happening, Kevin found he’d taken hold of the ladder. A sigh from the bottom bunk caused him to pause, his foot hovering over the first rung.

  Wrapping himself in what courage he could, Kevin let go of the ladder and sank to his knees. Extending his still shaking hand, he touched Joey’s warm and clammy shoulder.

  “Leave me alone,” the empty voice said.

  Only for a second did Kevin consider obeying. Steeling himself he opened his mouth. “No, Sir. I won’t.”

  Joey’s shoulders tightened, Kevin had to stifle a cry of alarm, he was convinced Joey would turn round and hit him for talking back. Kevin couldn’t move, his terror freezing him in place.

  “What did you say?” There was a definite note of menace in Joey’s voice.

  Kevin’s mouth went dry, his tongue becoming thick and uncooperative. He had to swallow a couple of times before he could speak. “I said, ‘no,’ I’m not going to leave you alone.”

  Joey fell silent, the fact he didn’t turn over to rebuke him gave Kevin a shred of courage. “Sir, I can’t leave you when you’re like this, I just can’t.”

  Joey didn’t respond.

  Inhaling a ragged breath, Kevin took a further leap into the unknown. It terrified him that he was being so disobedient. “Sir, if you saw that I was in pain, I know there’d be no way that you’d let me suffer by myself. Well, Sir, I’m here for you.” Kevin’s emotions began to overwhelm him. He couldn’t do this any longer. Feeling totally wretched, and with tears rolling down his face, he fell upon Joey and wrapped his arms around him.

  Joey suddenly sprung into life and tried to free himself. “Get the fuck off of me!”

  “No, Sir, please, no!” Kevin realised he was screaming, but he was too wound up to care. “Please, I’m begging you, no! I love you, Sir. I just love you, this is killing me.” Kevin’s heart was pounding in his chest, he couldn’t breathe, his world was falling apart.

  Just as suddenly as he’d burst into action, Joey went limp and collapsed back onto the mattress. Kevin used the opportunity to climb into bed and wrap his legs around Joey’s lower body. Even though he was still suffering from a severe case of the shakes, Kevin could tell Joey wasn’t faring much better. He could feel his lover’s body trembling, accompanied by the occasional muffled sob. Knowing he had to set aside his own terrors and concentrate on pulling his man through whatever hell he was suffering, Kevin dug deep into his reserves of strength and fought down his panic.

  Delivering a soft kiss between Joey’s shoulder blades, Kevin said, “I’m here for you, Sir. I’m here.” Kevin snuggled up to Joey’s back, trying to will strength into him. Laying a trail of soft kisses across Joey’s neck and shoulders, Kevin kept whispering words of love and reassurance.

  Eventually Joey calmed,
his shivers stopped and his breathing began to slow. After a loud sniff, Joey—who had steadfastly remained facing away from Kevin—said, “Why?”

  Kevin didn’t understand the question.

  “All that cruelty, hatred against, against my people. I don’t understand it. We’re Jews, not sick animals who had to be exterminated. I just can’t…” He let out a couple of whimpers, plummeting Kevin’s spirits even lower. “I can’t understand why they hated us so much. If I’d have lived back then, I’d have to hide like they did, never go outside, always scared of discovery, of being herded into cattle trucks and shipped off to Belsen or Auschwitz.”

  For the thousandth time Kevin wished he hadn’t made such a fuss about wanting to visit the annex on Prinsengracht. “I don’t know, Sir, I just don’t know.” Kevin felt helpless.

  “It was so organised and calculating. Why?”

  “Please, Sir, try not to think about it.”

  “I know, but I can’t. Pup, I shouldn’t be burdening you with all of this. And I’m so sorry for being nasty to you earlier.”

  “You’re my boyfriend, my sir. I love you, and whatever hurts you, hurts me as well. I’m here for you, Sir. I’ll help you all I can, but I don’t have the answers. I don’t know, maybe it was easier for the Nazis to blame the Jews for everything that was wrong rather than admitting that it was their own fault. Sorry, Sir, I just don’t know.” Kevin wished he could say something that would help his sir feel better.

  “Six million people.”

  “I know.”

  “There were gypsies, communists and even gays.” Joey let out a harsh laugh. If they hadn’t have got me for being Jewish, they’d have rounded me up for being queer.”

  It was heart rending for Kevin to see such a powerful, dominant man in so much pain. “I suppose we ought to be glad that we don’t live in the 1930s and 40s.”

  “Suppose so.”

  Joey still lay on his side, facing away. Manoeuvring himself under his lover, Kevin positioned Joey’s head so it rested on his chest. Remembering how relaxed he always felt when Joey stroked his hair, Kevin decided he’d try the same in reverse. It seemed to pay off, because Joey slowly began to relax and lean back.