Chapter 11 - Roads Back to Town

The nights start to drag. There's three hours between feelings check and lights out.

There are only so many songs we can write about people.

We decide to play spin the bottle truth or dare. We decide just to make it truth and everyone has to answer the same question.

We start with drugs; 'what's the lowest point uve got to in ur addiction'
Jimmy says he had an operation because of alcohol abuse.

"When I woke up from the operation the first thing I asked the nurse was when I could start drinking again"

"One night all my friends left me on my own cause I was too drug fucked. I spent all night trying to vein alone in my room with a blunt needle. I finally I did and I was doing it my Christian Mum walked in and asked me if I wanted to go for a run. I pricks and cuts all up my arm" Sam says

"When I had to leave Malaysia cause there was a warrant out for my arrest" Lee says

"What's the worst thing u ever did on drugs or grog?" I ask

"I once smashed a bottle in someone's head" Jimmy says.

"I got someone raped" Sam says

"I stole from my sister" Jason says

People turn to me, noticing I'd also skipped the first question.

"Um" I say "I once pretended to like a guy who I didn't at all just so he would buy me drugs. In fact, I did a lot with lots of different guys"

Jimmy asks what the weirdest sexual thing we have ever done.

He starts "I dated this crazy bitch and she wanted nothing more than to be fisted all the time.

"I used to tie up a girl and smack her and yell abuse at her, she loved it" Sam says.

"I've never done anything weird sexually" Lee says

"I once a threesome with two girls" I say and everyone looks shocked "Don't worry, it left a bitter taste in my mouth"

The game finished. I went to bed. I felt angry that the girls had been so patronising over my sexuality. I had trouble sleeping. I concentrated on my breathing.

"I will not cut myself over this" I say to myself "I refuse to hurt myself cause of other's ignorance"

Instead I sat up and wrote a little speech I would say at feelings check time.

It's morning and it's feeling check time and it's my turn and I have the speech.

“I just want to remind everyone that I'm human first and gay second.

I'm a person and I’m a man.

While people probably think they are being really liberal minded, I'm sick of being patronised.

There are lots of interesting things about me and my sexuality is not one of them.

Please just treat me like u would treat any other guy in here. Gay is not a personality – all gay people are different, just like no straight people are alike. Treat me like me. “

People clap. It feels good. A couple of people look guilty as hell.

A couple of the girls come up and hug me after.

After feelings check and Christy calls me over to the ladies smoking area. It's a spot called “Windy Hill”. It's for women only, but if Christ says it’s was ok for me to be there -none of the other girls will object.

“Luke, I didn’t mean to keep on talking about your sexuality. It's just that my daughter is gay and it helps me understand what she is going through”
“I know Christy; I actually wasn’t referring to you”
“And darl, I don't think u sound gay....I just think sound educated”
“Thanks Christy, u can be my friend now”
“Good stuff. Y'know I'm really missing all my kids a lot”
“That's sad; I can’t imagine what it would be like to be in here knowing I had kids on the outside”
“I'm worried I might have really screwed up”
“Why?”
“A little while back I was making $7000 a week as a drug dealer”
“Fuck me”
“And I was putting $5000 a week in my arm”
“How on earth did ur body cope with that?”
“I was 160 kilos, so I could handle it”
I look at her tired expression and her bulky frame.
“How did u end up taking so much speed?”
“Um, I was a successful young business woman; I was in late 20's. I worked in the music industry, but I didn’t take drugs. I had several businesses, I had a 4 bedroom house with a swimming pool, I hung out with rock stars like Jimmy Barnes and Angry Anderson and organised big rock concerts. Drugs, just never interested me, I guess. One day I made friends with my next-door neighbor. He was....disgusting. He had a flanno shirt, a goatee and was covered in turkey shit. Despite, all that there just something about him. Y'know just something that drew me to him. So I fucked him”
She cackled like a witch.
“You’re a dirty bitch” I say
“To cut a long story short, we got married. I didn’t know, but he was actually one of the biggest drug dealers in WA. When we got married I told them the drug stuff had to stop, so he stopped it. He never took drugs after that. I still had never taken drugs. Then out of the blue one day, 6 years into the relationship I got curious. I begged him to let me take speed. He said no. I asked him again and again and finally he said yes. I swallowed it. I was 33. At first I thought 'this is shit', then it kicked in and I felt great and I had so much energy. We could have us time when the kids were asleep, because usually we were too tired. We lots of great sex, I loved it, and I loved speed. Then much to my husband's disgust I started shooting up with a needle. That was even better, I loved the needle. He refused to inject me, so I learnt how to do it myself and then I got into dealing”
“I'm guessing that u used your business knowledge to become a successful drug dealer?”
“You better believe it; I was nicely dressed and well spoken. I would go into the Doctors and they'd give me a prescription. I'm a graphic artist by trade so I forged prescriptions and go into the chemist. I'd buy stuff for drug cooks and they would make shitloads of amphetamines and I would make shitloads of money”
“What actually goes into speed?”
“Um...Nurofen Gold and this Acid stuff and that's all I'm prepared to say. What I can say is that I was moving heaps of the shit. I got really involved in the drug scene. One day a deal went bad and I had three guns pointed at my head. It was fucking scary and that's why I’m over that shit now and I just want to be a good mum now”
Renee comes out of the villa.
“Christy your shortbread is ready”
“Gotta go” Christy says “nice talking to u darl”
Christy goes off, mother earth style to the kitchen. She is always mothering people and making them food. She fusses over the boys especially. It was like drug use had given her a break for being so over-responsible for everyone.

Renee comes and sits next to me.
“I've finished Crime and Punishment”
“That was quick”
“Yeah thanks for lending it to me, it was an amazing book. I cried at the end. It’s the second best book I've ever read”
“What's the best?”
“The Bible”
Excuse me.
“The Bible, Rachel...so Ur, um, religious”
“I hate that word religious, I’m spiritual”
“What do you believe in?”
“I'm Christian”
“R u?”
“Yeah I know it seems funny, I've got a criminal record, I'm in rehab and I'm Christian”
“In what way r u a Christian?''
“I believe that God loves me no matter what. I believe in being kind, loving and compassionate. I think God is beautiful. Jesus was sent down and crucified for our sins. I don't believe in evolution because the bible says God created the world. People like Noah lived for 900 years until our world got so polluted”
“So u don't believe in evolution”
“No, because evolution is a crock of shit, it makes human life seem like a random accident”
“And u see the bible as the literal word of God”
“Yes”
“And there is nothing u take into account with the bible like say the fact it was written by imperfect humans”
“They were inspired by God and the bible is the word of God”
I gaze over Renee. I look at her hippie dress, the drug rings over her eyes, her tattoos.

Yes, it seems Christian Fundamentalism is now available in drug-fucked hippie variety.

“So Renee, u graduated here in October and now ur back what happened?”
“I relapsed within a week and started driving around a drug dealer. I was messed up, but now I understand where I went wrong”
“How?”
“I stopped talking to God”
“As long your Christianity works for u Rachel”
“It does, it sure does” she says
I look at her hair style. I sense that she may have broken one of the Ten Commandments. Sometimes I think the reason Christians have bad hairstyles is the lack of gay men in the church.
“And just a suggestion Renee, next time u dye ur blonde rather than dying it all the same color, use three different shades of blonde it will look more natural that way”
“Ok” she says looking a bit offended
“Otherwise it will end up looking a like a cheap peroxide job”
I grab a cigarette out of her packet and head back to her villa.

I wonder about Christy and Renee, I wonder how much they would change being in here. Would they still be neurotic, will they still look for answers in the wrong places? How much can a place like this change people?

I wonder about myself. Will I always worry about the way I look? Will I always expect people to love me even when they don't? Will I always be angry?

How much can people really change?

Night-time Feelings check. There's a weird uncomfortable buzz in the air, rumors have been flying around the facility and some people it seems were trying to bring a few other people down. I tried to stay away from it or I knew that I might be targeted.

A new woman, Joanne, who has a permanently petrified look on her face, says she feels 'empty'.
“I see people write in their journals and I've got nothing to write. Nothing, I'm just nothing”, she says looking as if she had just completely discovered what seemed like an absolute loss of self.

Renee goes on the attack “I know people are saying shit about me dobbing in Danny and Sandy – its bullshit and whoever is saying that is fucking pathetic”
The place seems like it could erupt in a riot any minute.

Gotho-Wicca bipolar bear man Richard comes in late. He's dressed all in black with a black headband. It's his turn; he stands up fierce, angry and formidable.

“Ive just been told by the Manager that maybe I shouldn’t be here. Apparently I'm not sharing my feelings enough”

He stamps his foot on the group
“So I can just say last night I didn’t want to play pin the tail on the fucking fuckface or watever u were playing at games night last night cause I fucking hate parties. When I was 14 and a bunch of guys for no reason had a go at me. They hit me and hit me and hit me. Cause I was such a big bastard and I wouldn’t fall down they grabbed a metal pole and knocked me unconscious”

Tears start falling down his face.

“So if u really want to know how I feel, I feel like killing something. I feel like chucking it on the ground and stomping on it and stomping on it and watching it die”

Everyone claps.

Joanne breaks down in tears. I feels my own tears well-up.

It was hard watching Richard's big black facade fall away. It was hard realising just how and why he wanted to gas himself in the car a couple of weeks earlier.

Despite the outburst, the community kept going as usual.

The 'plastic gangsters' – the young people who came thru drug court hang out together by the river.

Christy talks about losing her false teeth in court the other day.

Mel latches onto new people and talked about being 'disabled' and coming from a 'small country town'. I stop feeling special that she wanted to stalk me.

We have graduation. Craig left. He says he came into rehab a broken man after 30 years of drug abuse and was now ready to start a new life. He says he had enrolled in a visual arts degree at his local University.

Elizabeth kept complaining about the heat.

And the boys in 'the Bronx' kept on farting.

We have fish fingers for dinner that night. They were disgusting. In my middle-class home we never ate shit like fish fingers.

“Fish Fingers?” I say “I've been on TV and I'm being fed Fish Fingers”
"Luke, stop saying uve been on TV we know it isn't true" Sam says.

It's my turn to wash the dishes.

I'm scrubbing plates and Richard appears at the kitchen window. It's dark, but I could still see his face reasonably well.

“What r u doin?'' he asks me
“The dishes”
“Ok”
“What r u doing?”
“I'm bored”
“Ok”
He's staring right at me, intensely
“Um, Richard, did u want to play darts or something?”
“I'd prefer to take u to the cow paddock”
“Sorry?”
“It's a full moon, I'll get a blanket, we can roll around and have some fun”
He's staring right at me like a serial killer. I thought about his outburst that morning in feelings check. I could picture him hitting me over the head with a brick once we'd finished the deed.
“Richard I don't think it’s a good idea”
“Why not, it’s a full moon?”
“We might get caught”
“We won’t get caught”
I didn’t know how to say no. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I just wasn’t attracted to him.
“Come back here in an hour” I said.

That gives me time to work out a plan. Maybe I can just pretend to be asleep when he comes back.

I imagine Richard fucking me up the arse and then cutting my throat screaming “I’m not gay u faggot'.

Yikes.

I go and tell Jimmy. Jimmy pisses himself laughing; he wasn’t sure whether or not to believe me.
“I'm not sure how to tell people that I'm not interested in them, I always feel bad”
“You have to tell him, Luke, its Ur right”
“I'm not sure how to say it”
“Just tell him ur not interested”
“I dont think I can”
“Luke, u have to”

Richard comes back an hour. I walked outside.
“Richard I dont really think we should do this?”
“Why?'
“Well, I'm just, um, not interested”
“Ok, fair enough” he lowered his head, he was slightly wounded by the rejection – he walked off.
“Catch u later” he says.

I managed to avoid being fucked up the arse by a 130 kilo bipolar bear whose course of anti-psychotics hasn’t started working yet. I feel like I've cheated death. I'm happy.

I bump into Shirley in the office. She says she has witnessed how people had been patronising me. She says she was glad I said something at feelings check.

I tell her how I felt like cutting myself the other night and stopped because “I wasn’t going to punish myself anymore for other people's ignorance”.

I tell her I did the breathing exercises.

Tears well up in eyes
“Luke you have no idea what a huge step this is for you”
She hugs me.
"U brave, brave boy"
We sit outside and continued chatting
“It annoys me when people think I'm feminine”
“Why?'
“Cause I dont think I am”
“Luke even if u were married with kids I'd still have questions about ur sexuality”
“Lots of straight men are feminine”
“I dont know any”
“Well I know lots and BTW, Richard cracked onto me last night. Bet u wouldn’t have picked him?”
“No I wouldn’t”
“So maybe your notions of gender and sexuality are a bit outmoded”
“Maybe, I am happy to take that criticism on board Luke”
“And I think people here are obsessed with my sexuality and I stick out cause I'm a middle class urban journalist in Rural Queensland. Not cause I'm gay”
“That maybe so”
“And let me tell u that I think I'm a masculine gay guy – not feminine and not macho – I'm not a eunuch, I'm just me”
“Luke I'm not saying your all airy-fairy, just a little on the feminine side”
“I'm still a man”
“Of course your a man”
“And the other day you told me that I had a feminine voice. That upset me cause I'm a radio broadcaster. I'm educated and eloquent and speak with my hands – where I come from that just makes me a bit arty, not necessarily gay”
“Why does it bother u that people might think Ur feminine?”
“Cause its at odds my with own identity”
“Luke I just think men like women come in varying degrees of masculinity and femininity”
“Yeah fine, but I'm not a screaming Queen”
“What's wrong with being a screaming Queen?”
“Nothing. I date screaming Queens. I take the masculine role in my relationships”
“What do u mean by masculine?”
“Y'know what I mean”
“Luke I am sorry, I have never had a gay friend, I dont know what u mean”
“I protect and provide and um Y’know”
“And?”
“And I fuck them up the arse”
“I had no idea gay relationships worked that way”
“They do and I am a man and I dont like being considered feminine”
“Fair enough Luke, but it sounds like u might be a little confused with Ur identity”
“How so?”
“I dont think Ur as comfortable with Ur sexuality as u think u are”
“I'm just not comfortable with being considered feminine”
“Feminine is a good thing Luke, when I met u I liked u straight away”
“I just dont think its an accurate description of me. I dont want to....stand out, I just want to be me”
“That's ok, but Y’know since everyone has found out Ur gay u r much less confident than when u first came in here. Where is that confident, outspoken boy?”
“I didn’t realise I'd changed”
“Look at the way Ur dressed. With that Super Mario Top and Ur skull headband. Do u think ur perhaps becoming the stereotype just too please people?”
“Shirley ur confusing me, first of all I'm denying being feminine, now I'm living up to the stereotype?”
“I think Ur confused Luke, do u think uve been living up to the stereotype?”
I thought about it, yes I suppose in some ways I was acting like the token gay guy even though I knew I was more than that.
“Luke, when you become the stereotype, u becomes someone in the community – the 'gay one' – but there is much more to u than that. Does that make sense?”
“Yep”
“And people like Margie patronise u and u play along a little bit. Ur being a people pleaser. I say, just be yourself”
“Well I guess when people made a big deal about it; I thought I may as well just play up to it”
I thought about the times I'd walked passed the girls villa and done a 'pole dance' for them.
“It is confusing Shirley, bottom line is I beat nearly every guy here at sport and lift heavier weights than most of them”
“I dont doubt that”
“Doesn’t that make me masculine?'
“If you think it does”
“And I just want to be treated like any other man”
“If people dont then they are prejudiced, but I’m still unsure why it bothers u so much to be considered feminine?”
“I'm not sure”
“Well how about u go back to ur villa, get changed and think about it and we will talk about it next week”
I took off my headband.
“Before u go Luke I would like to thank-you for educating so much on gay issues and if I said anything to offend u I apologise”
“That’s ok Shirley I just had a free therapy session, I'm not complaining”
“And remember with Ur humor often its a case of making fun of things we feel uncomfortable about. Humor speaks measures. Think about the next time u make fun of ur own sexuality”

I spend the rest of the day in my room pissed off. I go outside for a cigarette. Damien is sitting outside.
“I'm so sick of this shit”
“What?”
“I'm sick of talking about my sexuality”
“Who this time?'
“Shirley”
“U r in Queensland, mate”
“Yeah well, my new mantra of not worrying about people's opinions is difficult when u r dealing with Ur own counselor”
“Just explain urself to Shirley, she'll understand”
“Psychologists are nutty”
“Mate, Ive got two degrees in psychology and I think people get into psychology to deal with their own issues”
“Well in Shirley's case she just doesn’t get it. She doesn’t have gay friends. She's not from Melbourne”

Stan overhears the conversation
“I didn’t know u were gay”
“Thanks Stan”
“Do u want to be heterosexual”
“Fuck no”
“Dont swear Luke”
“Sorry”
“That's ok, if u like being gay then God made u gay, enjoy it”
“Thanks again Stan, I just wish some people would get there psychology textbooks from somewhere else other than rural Queensland'

I go for a sleep and wake up to the news that Nick the jailbird has been kicked out.

He got caught shooting up ice. Is it any wonder he sat up all night a lot of the time.

Cause he was a drug court client, he was going to be sent back to jail. I feel sad that he couldn’t beat his addiction.

We have chores on Saturday morning. I choose the hardest job, it's 38 degrees and I mow the lawns.

After I finish, I walk past a group of smokers.

“Look at u!” says Sarah.
“Do u gets the message now?”

I go and lay down. I'm more exhausted than I want to let on. I know Shirley would have said I was just 'people pleasing' by mowing the lawns.

I start to think about why it did bother me if people found me effeminate.

I guess the only thing I can think about is my teenage years. I hated the idea of being a cliché; I hate the idea that being gay was a cause for some of my insecurities. I think about all the bad shit that happened to me in that little country town when I was a teenager. I think about it all night, I don't sleep. I'm awake and I think and it hurts. It fucking hurts. I hate the idea of empowering all those teenage boys who gave me shit at high school. I hate the idea they might have played a role in fucking up my life.

I think about the morning chorus of 'faggot' I got every single day when I walked onto the school grounds. I remembered being dacked, getting my head flushed down the toilet, the prank calls, being called a 'porter' and a 'clocklike' and most famously 'ur a poof cause u run on ur toes'.

I got my revenge on those boys. I printed off secrets I knew about them and I posted them all over school. They left me alone after that. And I wad angry at my self for not sticking up for myself earlier.

I stay awake all night thinking about this and it hurts.

It wasn’t just blatant bullying that hurt me either, it was the subtle things. It was never being invited to parties; it was people telling me not to talk to them cause 'I was embarrassing', once I put my books down next to someone in class and they through them on the floor. Once a teacher kicked me out of class and said 'sorry, I'm homophobic'- everyone laughed. My Year Level Co-coordinator once said to me “If I was to ask half the staff room they would say they didn’t like u, but if I was to ask everyone in your year level most people would say they didn’t like u either”.

I got my revenge on those teachers by spreading rumors about them on high school radio. But they won out; they just banned me from radio.

Once one of the retarded guys at school came up behind me and threw a basketball at my head.
“I'd had to be a faggot” he said which was strange coming from a guy who was dying from muscular dystrophy.

At a school full of drop-outs, juvenile delinquents and teen pregnancies, I was the scapegoat.

Growing up I'd been the dominant male in my neighborhood, then I became shitkicker in the dominant group, to being pushed out to being so far down the pile that even the people with integration aids could pick on me. At a time when humans need a peer group to pass from child to adult I was an outcast. I was the scapegoat

I still wasn’t sure exactly why? Why me? How did I become that kid that everyone could pick on? Maybe I was feminine. Maybe it was because I didn’t do the stuff that other boys did. I was skinny, I talked differently, I did play football, I didn’t get into fights, I didn’t fuck chicks, I was smart.

I was rejected because I was different. Cause I was not like other boys. I was not just rejected, but hurt and harmed. I was put into direct physical danger because of who I was. Is it any wonder it scares me and it shames me if people might think I'm feminine? Is it any wonder I have a tough facade. Is it any wonder sometimes it scares me just to leave the house?

At the same time, I hated not being seen as a man. I was rejected by my male peers and this I could feel had left a massive scar.

“Your a poof cause run on your toes”

It starts to make sense. For years after school I hated myself, I cut myself, I used needles, I had panic attacks when I left the school, I dropped out of Uni and spent two years stuck in my room watching daytime TV.

I was scared of gay men. I went for 2 years without sex. Still living in my home town people would yell out 'faggot' as I walked down the street.

My only friends were junkies and criminals and low-lifes. I bought people drugs just so they would be my friends.

I went through identity change after identity change.

I had a psychotic episode when I was 19 after months on end of constant amphetamine use. My delusion was that a group of people were out to get me.

All those memories hurt. It's ok that they hurt. I think. And it started to dawn me. It wasn’t just a traumatic set of experiences; it emasculated me to be rejected by my male peers. I stopped feeling like a male, I felt like some sort of hideous in-between.

I remember hiding in the sick bay at lunchtime cause I was scared of being bashed.

I didn’t know what had made me such an outcast. I didn’t understand why I had been treated so badly by other people; I didn’t know what I did wrong.

It hurt me. It infuriated me. It made me feel different, unlovable, ugly, it stopped me from feeling like a man.

I realised that so much of my need to be part of the gay scene and to have a boyfriend was all part of that scar – that scar of being rejected by my male peers.

All maybe Ive needed all this time was a friend. A male friend. A group of male friends.

'Why am I so clingy?'
Why am I so scared of rejection?'

Some of this is beginning to make sense.

Cause when I am rejected I feel like that effeminate, outcast, ugly teenage boy. Rejection burns me.

And then I start howling. I sit outside and stare at the open night sky and howl and howl and howl and howl. My face is all hot and wet at the same time. I go to bed and cry and cry and cry. I get angry and I punch the shit of my pillow. I punch two holes in the wall. My face shakes with anger.

It wasn't fair. Why me? I had been attacked and humiliated. I had been bullied.

I cry until I wear myself out and finally I go to sleep.

I dream I am at a party with my parents. There's a gay couple, one was nice and one was quiet. My mom and dad really liked the nice one and tried to make the quiet one feel more comfortable.

“Dont these people think that this couple is disgusting?” I think to myself. Then I imagined them having sex and thought “The idea of them fucking really turns me on.”

Then I am awake.