Start Sandbagging

Somehow after playing THE GAME strategically and a few phone calls I ended up at Keegans house.

It was a cute old Queenslander that sat in the foot of a valley.

Keegan was completely different. He was no longer the alpha-queen tease he was like in the club. The personality that had allured me in the first place.

He apologised for his behaviour the night before.

He said he was very embarrassed.

He showed me photos of his parents NSW country mansion (the Bronx?).

When I told him some of my ex's had been drag queens he showed me a picture of himself in drag.

He said he got really smashed because he had been dumped 3 months ago by his boyfriend of 2 years. The guy dumped him in front of their friends.

"I would have walked over hot coles for him" he said.

"Ive really gone downhill since my break-up as well. I've been suspended from work, I've declared myself bankrupt and Im going to rehab. Its hard understand why, but it hurts and we will do anything to stop the hurt" I said.

He put the cup of tea he was drinking to his cheek. He stared at me for a couple of seconds and said nothing.

He said he was going to calm down now.

"Was a cunt last night?" he asked me.

Well, yes, yes you were.

"No you werent a cunt, u were just messy"

I left after 2 hours, he hugged me when I left and kissed me on the cheek.

That's it. I know it was kind of a first date - if a man likes you - LIKES ME - wouldnt he do more than that. I quickly came to conclusion he musnt be feeling it. He doesnt have to, okay fine, it hurts though not to be loved.

*

We drove back to Bundaberg the next day.

"He's fucking amazing" I said to Mum in the car "But I dont think he likes me very much"

"Why?"

"Well we didnt sleep together which is fine. He didnt even try to kiss me though. Just a goodbye kiss, a kiss on the cheek".

In truth it was a huge relief to put that anxiety into words, Id been drowning in my little dilemma - invented or not - over the past day.

"Did u try and kiss him?"

"No, he didnt seem like he wanted to. I can tell he wasnt that into it"

"Your thinking about this too much Luke"

Only cause Im feeling so much Mum.

"Maybe if your Sisters Son hadnt fucking molested me when I was 9 I'd feel more comfortable about these things" I said, half-joking and continued with "And maybe if your cunt of a husband had shown more of an interest in me when I was a kid I wouldnt be so fucking insecure about men liking me"

"You might be right" said Mum.

"Yeah well Im not joking about that one"

The 5 hour road trip was the Keegan variety hour in my head. I pictured us going clubbing together, going to parties together, going to the movies together and laying all over each other completely relaxed on his couch. The angst came up like little pricks of pain in my stomach, like each little daydream felt like I could vomit it out - but they only made it worse. I tried thinking about something else. What's going on here? Its only been like a day - stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about him. About Keegan. Keegan. Keegan. Idiot.

Keegan.

We got into Bundaberg. It was modest, down-to-earth, familiar. The familiar landmarks came and went as we drove past.

Hinkler Place Shopping Centre

The Bundaberg Broadcast Centre

Friendlies Medical Clinic

Sugar Canes

And then finally on the way back to Waterloo - the beginning of the end of my wild adventure -

Yandaran Creek

Cockatoo Creek

Waterloo Hall, the only public building in the town - rarely used and made entirely of tin.

Dad had built the roof on the verandah it sat awkwardly under clear skies. I sat under it. I smelt the fresh, lemongrassy smell of the dry-bush.

I heard an odd scream from the bush. A Kookaburra flew over head with a dying rodent in its mouth. It took to the ground and stabbed it to death with its beak. The cries gradually died out.

I was back in nature. I was home, free from the expectation of having a lover and living day-to-day with the reality of not having a lover.

And still there he was in my mind - for no good rational reason - Keegan.

Still thinking about what I had said about Dad in the car, I was very conscious of his self-absorbed behaviour.

Mum showed him photos of the flood. They were fucking interesting photos. Dad said he was going to bed after looking at just one.

I came to the conclusion Dad found the photos boring because

(a) he was once again depressed and the medication only does so much

And

(b) the photos werent of him

He spent all afternoon lying in bed. I saw him through the crack of the door. He's terribly overweight. He reminds me of the last time I saw his mother, she was bedridden from obesity - half insane - dying from cancer - her wrinkled tits slipping out of her floral fat-lady dress. She smelt and she scared me. She spoke like a truck driver. At her funeral they carried her down in the biggest darn coffin I ever saw. Funny he should remind of her, that fat old bitch - when its much more likely he'll go the way of his Dad who hung himself in the family garage. The old man didnt just have a fat wife he'd been to war and was convinced the 'Japs were coming'. One of his 7 kids found him hanging there lifeless, swinging peacefully. A year later, one of Dad's brothers suicided in their bathroom. Dad reckons he saw his Grandad's ghost in the garage one day. I reckon Grandad's ghost is with Dad a lot and in me sometimes as well.

I txted Keegan.

"If your ever bored call me and if you ever feel like txting your ex, txt me instead"

He replied

"Ok cool, but I dont have boring moments"

Ok Cool, u cunt.

It cooled down at night. I watch a green tree snake swallow a frog next to kitchin bin. It bleed a few drops on the floor and Mel the Kangaroo looked up wide-eyed and alert as the Frog screamed like a bitch as the snake swallowed its head.

I went into my room and wanked over Keegan. I came right up to my neck line in about 30 seconds.

Someone was feeling it.

The storm was here. It was beginning to flood.

*

The next day I hated Bundaberg, I hated Waterloo....I hated being at the beginning of the end. I felt like the waters coming down were full of some kind of poision led.

Dad sat at the dining table.

"We should go looking for those dogs to shoot, Dad" I said.

He didnt answer me, he was just staring out of the windom.

Maybe, he didnt hear me.