by Damian Maher
Reluctantly, Jacob acquiesced. “Good luck, my little Yesbut!” he whispered in William’s ear. “Call me anytime!”
“Everything’s going to be all right!” the nurse reassured Jacob.
*
The doctor awaited William in the examining room. “Can you describe the snake? Did you notice any special characteristics?” he asked kindly.
“It all happened so unexpectedly and so quickly. I stepped on it, and all I could see was the black head and the fat body as it slid into the bush,” William said.
“Black head? In the worst case, it could have been the black-headed form of the western brown snake, or gwardar, as Aboriginals call it. In the best and most probable case, it was a black-headed python,” doctor said.
“Oh?”
“What we have in our favor is that Australian venomous snakes have very short fangs, so their bite doesn’t cause very large wounds. Nonvenomous pythons don’t have fangs at all, but they do have sharp teeth. It looks like you have a small swelling, which is a hematoma caused by the python bite. It must have been scary going through the uncertainty,
though,” the doctor said.
“I didn’t feel any pain. But I did repress the fact that some poisons have delayed effects,” William said.
“I’ll just disinfect the wound and give you some antibiotics—just because we don’t want any complications. And let’s stay current on tetanus shots, since you haven’t had one in years,” the doctor said.
“I would recommend that you stay in the RV park near the hospital. If you notice anything unusual, come back immediately. Do watch for signs of infection like red streaks a couple of days after the bite. I’d carry on with your travel plans tomorrow if everything seems to be normal.”
*
The next morning, as Jacob and William headed toward Gibb River Road, they saw a confused, fat rodent run across the road.
“Where the fat rodents are, you know who is not far!” William said, and they burst out laughing.
A beautiful day once again displayed the overwhelming charm of the Australian Outback. During their drive, they saw a secretive hopper— either a Kimberley wallaby or an Antelopine wallaby— every now and then, grazing in the high undergrowth beneath the trees. Sometimes a disturbed wallaby, obviously not used to cars, tried to run across the road just in front of their mobile home. Whatever of their belongings were not disturbed by driving over the corrugations—deep ridges in the road—were scattered whenever they had to brake for wildlife.
Jacob was the one who drove most of the time. But because they had set a goal of 300 kilometers for that day, William took over for a few hours. They had to keep going if they wanted to reach Bell Gorge the day after.
“How is it living with an HIV infection?” Jacob asked suddenly.
“At first I thought my life was over. Then my doctor told me that because I started to receive effective antiretroviral therapy before my immune system was damaged, and if I took my drugs as prescribed, I could expect a normal life span.”
“So one can suppress the virus and live like everybody else?” Jacob asked.
“Not quite. Some people still die as a direct consequence of their HIV infection. They’re mostly individuals who are diagnosed with HIV late, though, when their immune system is already damaged. And some illnesses, such as liver disease caused by hepatitis viruses B or C, tuberculosis, heart disease, and certain cancers, are seen more frequently in people with HIV than in the general population.”
“So there is still no cure?”
“ No. The goal of HIV treatment is to reduce your viral load to an undetectable level. If my viral load increased above a certain value, it would mean that my current treatment is no longer suppressing HIV effectively, and I would have to change the therapy. And, as you’ve noticed, anti-HIV drugs have to be taken at the right time, every single day, to work properly. Once I started the drugs, I knew I would have to be on them for the rest of my life.”
“That bastard! How he could do this to you?” Jacob whispered.
“You know what his answer was? ‘I only wanted love! Does this make me a criminal?’”
“As if fucking around in gay clubs is wanting love!” Jacob couldn’t hide his anger.
“But life is still kind to me. I’ve met you. I want to forget bad things,” William said.
“You are quite a man, William!” Jacob said. “One day, I was passing a long row of taxi cabs. For some reason I observed the drivers: some were sitting behind the steering wheel, simply bored. Some listened to the radio. Some played games on their mobile phones. One was virtually hanging out of the window, looking half-dead. Then I saw one driver doing something completely different. It gave me chills seeing him reading music from a notebook placed on the steering wheel and practicing playing the trumpet. He did the best he could in the given circumstances. You are that kind of person.”
“Well, that’s all I can do,” William said.
“ And . . . what about sex? Can you ever have normal sex again?” Jacob asked, his voice breaking.
“I most certainly can! If the treatment is suppressing HIV effectively, the positive partner is highly unlikely to transmit the virus to his negative partner. Still, regular use of condoms is a must. And that’s it. Touching each other and kissing is not dangerous,” William said.
“You know . . . I’ve only heard some scattered information here and there, but that doesn’t sound bad. Although they are not a cure, I’m still fascinated by what the new therapies can do,” Jacob said, trying to concentrate on the road.
“Corruga-ti-ons, corruga-ti-ons!” William started to sing, enjoying the way the thrusts from below were mutilating his voice. “Look! There are some Aboriginal children playing!” he said enthusiastically. “Strange. There’s no settlement in sight.”
“What if one of them is gay? I wonder how it feels growing up gay here in the bush?” Jacob wondered.
“Actually, many LGBT people are leaders in their communities. They possess secret knowledge of sacred sites, of family histories, and of land management practices,” William said.
“Isn’t that wonderful? They seem to judge people more by their character and their abilities and skills than upon their sexual orientation. Although they do sometimes appear unfriendly, I like them more and more,” Jacob said.
“ After what white people have put the natives through, we better understand their unfriendliness,” William said.
At dusk, some 300 kilometers to the west of Kununurra, Jacob and William started to look for a suitable place to sleep. They found a large, clean area, stretching from the road to a nearby creek. There was another mobile home, and they felt safer with other people around.
“Hi there! My name is Janice,” a woman introduced herself. “My husband and I have the largest fourwheel-drive mobile home you can buy in Australia. It’s big enough for seven people, but we travel alone. Maybe we could have a glass of wine together, after you prepare everything for the night?”
“Great!” Jacob said.
“See you at seven o’clock, then,” she said and with the stiff posture of a soldier, quickly turned toward their huge mobile home.
“Her hair is impeccable, even after a day in the bush. Nancy Reagan must be her idol. Even if she were drowning, she would not forget about class, style, and manners,” William said.
“Look at her husband, though. He looks like a crude savage, belching and squeezing a can of a beer,” Jacob said.
“Watch your manners, darling!” they heard Janice screaming. “We are not alone here.” Her voice revealed that she had given up on him ever becoming a civilized person but also that she would never admit that truth. Her scolding sounded somewhat routine.
“She needs him so she can feel superior. I tell you, without him she is nothing,” William said. “They’re a perfect match.”
“Yes, she needs a bandit,” Jacob added, and they both smiled. “The madam and the bandit!”
“I don’t mean to panic, but we have less than an hour to cook and eat our dinner. We don’t want to be late, do we?” William said.
“We will be there exactly at seven o’clock! Well, perhaps we might be three minutes late, just to give her the feeling that she is the immaculate one,” Jacob said.
William cooked pasta and used a canned sauce, while Jacob quickly set the table. They couldn’t stop giggling the whole time; they felt like immature, ill-bred boys who were about to visit the queen herself.
As they came to the fine people’s huge mobile home, they immediately saw that they weren’t Janice’s husband’s favorite company. What does this dark expression on his face mean? William wondered.
“Good evening. How nice you could come!” Janice greeted them with the most polished etiquette. “This is my husband, Rex.”
Rex refused to shake hands or speak, instead focusing on pouring the fuel from a canister into the car .
Janice went into the mobile home and quickly returned with a huge silver platter decorated with elaborate moldings. There were four crystal glasses, a bottle of wine, and a bowl of peanuts on it. Her hair is still perfect, and there is nothing casual about her, William couldn’t help thinking.
Janice offered them glasses and instructed her husband to open the bottle.
“It’s a chardonnay from our own vineyard,” she said. “Rex does all that.”
“I do a lot of things. I also exterminate pests on our property,” Rex said with a strange sparkle in his eyes before going into the car.
“Oh, please, don’t start with that!” she chided him. She then turned to Jacob and William. “He does things just to scare tourists. Don’t listen to him. Oh!” she exhaled.
“It’s okay,” Jacob said. “You’re such a fine lady.”
“If I may ask, what are your professions?” Janice asked them.
“Well, I am—” Jacob started to say when she interrupted him.
“That’s so interesting! I am a librarian. I’ve been doing this for thirty-five years! My husband works in the vineyard, and he also takes care of the cattle. He runs our farm. You know, he is—” Suddenly she saw him returning from the car.
“What’s that in your hand, darling?” she asked Rex, her face twisted by hopelessness.
“ Some dear memories,” he mumbled with a sinister expression.
“Oh, not that! Please! Darling, not that! Not again!”
Rex didn’t listen to his wife. He handed half of the pile of pictures to Jacob and half to William.
“Oh? Are these kangaroos?” William asked, baffled, looking at the pictures. He saw a dozen dead kangaroos lying one next to the other.
“Yes, kangaroos . . .” the man muttered. “I killed them myself.”
“Don’t pay attention to him,” Janice said with desperation in her voice. “Let’s toast to our Outback adventure!”
“Kangaroo is my favorite meat,” Rex said.
After looking at only a few pictures, Jacob and William handed them back to Rex.
“It may be interesting to you, but it’s not something for animal lovers,” William said.
“No, it’s not,” Rex said, appearing very satisfied with himself. He went to the car again.
“He acts like this sometimes,” Janice said, trying to mend the situation. “Kangaroos can be a pest, you know, so farmers are allowed to shoot them.”
At that moment Rex came back, holding a rifle in his hand.
“So, boys, are you two alone here?” he asked, cocking the rifle. “No girls?”
“ Okay! It’s bedtime!” Janice interrupted the situation, taking the glasses from Jacob’s and William’s hands. “Thank you very much for coming.”
“Shut up, woman!” Rex ordered, the joy of the twisted game deforming his face.
“It was a pleasure meeting you!” Jacob said.
“Yes, a pleasure,” William said, looking at the rifle pointing at him.
Then they turned and tried not to run toward their vehicle.
*
The next morning they slept until almost nine o’clock. During the night they had heard gunshots, and they were afraid for Janice. But because they had heard her talking to Rex afterward, they managed to sleep fitfully for a few more hours. When they woke up, they noticed that the madam and the bandit were already gone. Janice had left them a bottle of wine and a note, which said, “I sincerely apologize for the unacceptable behavior of my husband. Sometimes he is beyond help. All the best, Janice.”
“She could be a gay icon. Such style!” William smiled.
At breakfast, Jacob pondered how they should best use their day. “I know it’s a seven-hour drive, but what if we drive to Bell Gorge directly and just enjoy the beautiful scenery today? The fact is: we would need months to enjoy every natural wonder along the road. It’s our twelfth day in Australia, and we only have ten days left. Let’s skip some gorges and natural attractions on the way and make Bell Gorge a reward after a long drive. Bell Gorge is supposed to be the most beautiful of all the Kimberley gorges. If we get lucky, we could still have a swim in the evening.”
“I think that’s a good plan,” William said.
They didn’t linger in their chairs for too long. They jumped into the car and started driving, kilometer after kilometer, corrugation after corrugation, kangaroo after kangaroo, roadkill after roadkill, taking turns every two hours. The scenery along the road remained quite similar at first glance, but in fact it changed constantly. Sometimes they drove through lush forests around creeks, where the water remained the whole year, but drier places with golden grass and scarce trees dominated the impression. The red soil, the golden grasslands, the shadows of the trees playing their games, the sounds of the birds, the timid kangaroos, the occasional huge Outback road trains passing by like mighty and dusty tornadoes . . .
“There is nothing like the Outback!” Jacob said.
“Oh! Freedom. Wilderness. Seclusion,” William said. “So mesmerizing, so special.”
“And the corrugations! The eggs we ate for breakfast must have become a smoothie by no-o-oow!” Jacob joked.
In fact, all day they found something to laugh about uproariously, stopping only occasionally to enjoy the views or because they had spotted a flock of birds, an eagle, or a kangaroo family. In the midst of all that, William felt sad for Alex. Please, God, let him meet a person worthy of him! he often thought.
In the afternoon, about 250 kilometers from Derby, farther to the west, they turned off Gibb River Road, and from there they only had thirty kilometers more to go until they reached Bell Gorge.
A short walk along pretty Bell Creek led them to Bell Gorge. On the last bit they had to cross the creek on slippery rocks and then scramble down the steep rock wall leading to the water’s edge. The Bell Gorge waterfall cascaded down the cliffs into a deep pool perfect for swimming, with large flat rocks along the side just made for sunbathing.
They still had an hour of sun left. After a day of driving they enjoyed jumping into the refreshing water.
“How is your wound?” Jacob asked.
“I put a waterproof plaster on it. It’s hardly a wound, but the bite still shows,” William said.
“Good! No infection, then,” Jacob said, staring into the depths of the water. “The water is clean and clear, but below it’s still misty and frightening.”
“I know this is not croc habitat. But, still, irrationally, I sometimes get the creeps anyway. I imagine . . . what if a big, hungry, lost croc is in the water?” William joked.
“ I would kind of like to get out,” Jacob said, smiling. “I’m imagining it, too, now!”
“What’s that racket?” William asked.
“That’s probably the noisy kookaburras driving themselves into a trance again. But ‘if you hear a beautiful, deep warbling, look for the glossy black head of the pied butcherbird,’” Jacob said, repeating a sentence from the fairy tale his mother had told him.
They were quiet for some time, soaking in the water, listening to the sounds of nature.
“You are hot!” Jacob said, admiration in his eyes, as they stretched on the rock and absorbed the very last rays of sun. “I always think I have to run my fingers through your hair.”
William flashed a grin, blushing, and then he deliberately looked at Jacob’s hard cock. That’s it! He officially possesses the power to drive me crazy! Jacob, too, was languishing in horny despair.
As they lay on the rocks, hoping to dry before night fell, they both silently acknowledged the irresistible attraction they felt to each other.
*
It was already dark as they drove from Bell Gorge to the Silent Grove Campground. They somehow hadn’t realized that, because Bell Gorge is the most famous gorge along Gibb River Road, it would also be the busiest one. They arrived late and got the last empty campground spot.
“If we follow the creek upstream tomorrow, we should still be able to find a quiet place,” William said as they were eating roasted chili tofu for dinner.
“A place for us?” Jacob looked deep into William’s eyes.
“A place for us!” William whispered. He felt a rush of heat on his face and in his body. I’m glowing! He remembered how on the night flight from Europe he observed the city lights down below. Somebody from some plane above must see me now! I must have the gleaming power of a small city.
“May I kiss you, Yesbut?” Jacob asked. “Let’s leave everything on the table and go inside,” William said. He took Jacob’s hand and led him to the cabin.
“But the animals could jump on the table and—” Jacob started to say.
“We’ll deal with that tomorrow,” William said.
He then closed the doors behind them and looked into his bag, throwing some condoms on the table. “It looks like you only have a few!” Jacob said, smiling.
“Well, in case of emergency we can activate that satellite beeper so they can fly in more condoms,” William smiled.
“I need to feel you,” Jacob said, running his fingers through William’s hair. “Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to do this. And smell you and kiss you behind your ears. Like this . . .”