Facing the sun, p.10
Facing the Sun, page 10
Years passed before Jack began to date occasionally, including several attempts to recreate the closeness he’d had with the love of his life. But always with men who couldn’t meet him anywhere close enough to satisfying. Now, he thought bitterly, this mongrel has obviously picked me out as an easy target and is following me from place to place. His disappearance at the airport had been put down to his turning away briefly to check on the queue, although it is a tiny airport, and there’d been nowhere to hide. For a moment, he’d been thrown back into the spirit idea, but gradually his logical mind had shifted to a more sensible explanation. Now, he tackles this situation with renewed venom.
“If you think watching me pee will be a turn on for me, you’re sicker than I first supposed. Where’s your vehicle? Where’re you camped?” His eyes flash around the rapidly clearing campsite encountering nothing that one man could have been driving. Turning back, he discovers his enemy has once again disappeared. A cold sense of danger prickles his spine increasing the morning sweat soaking into his tee-shirt.
As they pack up the gear, Josh lifts his small tent into the vehicle and glances across at Sandro who is tying down chairs on the roof. Twice he opens his mouth, but no words eventuate. The third time, he bursts out, “Sandro?” Sandro looks across, raising his eyebrows. “Can I come with you?”
“Of course. It’s your seat.” His impatience shows again, when all he wants is to have this sorted and to return to their easy camaraderie which seems to have completely vanished.
“No. I mean can Bridey travel with Jack?”
Stopping what he’s doing, Sandro drops his head for a moment, thinking. When he raises it again, all he says is, “You’d better ask her.” It’s abrupt, but kicking himself doesn’t change anything. What he’d thought to say went something like, Of course. I’d love the chance to hear what’s going on. Josh swallows and turns away muttering to Bridey.
Sandro calls time for them to leave. He’d had breakfast with his father, where it had been decided that the two men would go ahead leaving early and meeting up with family again late in the day in Maree. This had been Sandro’s suggestion, to protect their timing from falling under Sohrab’s control, for all their sakes. A stop for lunch was discussed, but differing opinions confirm that the decision to travel separately is wise. After the overnight stop in Leigh Creek, it’s Marra in Adelaide. Sohrab’s friend is thinking of turning around at Maree, and from there Sohrab will join their party. This will mean having him a bit too close for comfort, but what choices are there? At least it has delayed his encounter with Josh this morning.
Half an hour passes in the 4-wheel drive without either of its occupants bridging the gap. Josh tries, opening and shutting his mouth several times, but the words won’t form. Still angry and hurt, Sandro leaves him to battle his demons, grateful to have him in the car where he’s safe.
“I didn’t mean it.” Erupting at last, the words sound lame, falling into the cold silence as a rock plummets abruptly from the side of a cliff into a swollen river. Josh stares through the windscreen willing it to put up the next words for him, while Sandro remains silent for several minutes.
“What didn’t you mean?” he asks at last. “The bit about me owning you, or the bit about not trusting me.”
His companion stares across at him, confused. “I didn’t say that.”
“Actions speak louder than words.”
Josh chokes on his fear. He’ll make a fool of himself; make everything worse. It takes a long time before the thickness in his throat settles, and by then it seems like he has to begin all over again. “I didn’t run away because I don’t trust you.”
“Well, why then?” Nothing he says sounds like he’s ready to forgive, and Sandro cannot for the life of him get his words to sound friendlier. He’s astonished at how hurt he still feels, after an entire night spent sleeping on it. “I can’t believe you would just take off and leave us to worry about you like that. And then to suggest I was trying to “own” you. We spent hours wondering where you were, trying to work out what to do, how to find you. What did we do to deserve that? I had a go at you and blamed you for something you didn’t do, but isn’t an apology and trying to fix it good enough for you?” Now he’s started, he can’t stop himself. The words keep tumbling out. “Is that all you get with you? One chance?”
Stony silence falls between them again. Sandro is shocked at himself. Everything he’s planned to say has disappeared and been replaced by this; this stuff that will push Josh further into whatever he’s thinking. He knows how sensitive the boy is to criticism, how he uses it to beat himself up, but he just can’t hold the words back. One chance indeed. Is that all he’s been willing to give him? He shakes himself free of the pain. What right has he to criticise, after all he’s done to his step-father, year after year. He pulls the car over, waving Jack on. The boy stares ahead, mute.
Sandro shakes his head from side to side. “This is crap, Josh. Help me! Nothing’s coming out the right way”
“What? You don’t want me to get out?”
“No,” he glares. “You can’t get out. Talk to me! This is shit, driving for hours and getting nowhere.” He looks up as another vehicle slows, waving it on. “We need to be okay, you and me. Not like this!” Josh drops his head into his hands, trembling, while Sandro pats his back. “Please give me another chance,” he says.
“Why are you saying this? It’s me!”
“What’s you?”
“It’s me that’s caused all this.”
“Well, running off without telling us why is going to cause something, isn’t it?”
“That’s not it.” He looks to Sandro appealing for help, who, confused, can offer nothing. “It’s Molly and everything.”
“How is what happened to Molly your fault?”
“If we hadn’t kissed back at the camp, you’d be with your Dad now. It’s what you’ve always wanted. And now, after all you’ve done for me, its stuffed.”
Inhaling deeply, Sandro lifts one knee to drape it across the seat between them so he can face him. “My Dad’s with us,” he informs him. Josh shakes his head in disbelief. “No. You missed that bit while you were with that truckie. Dad was camping at Mungerannie when we arrived. Jack found him. He had dinner with us last night.”
“But that won’t fix it! What’ll happen now? He’s not going to get to go home is he?”
“I dunno, Josh. Let’s just see how that works out. What we’re talking about here is you and me. Let’s just concentrate on that. Whatever happens with my father is nothing to do with how we feel about each other, right?” Josh’s silence shows he doesn’t quite see it like that. “You are like my brother. You don’t just kick out family because things change.”
“You have another brother now. A real one.”
“I’m much closer to you than to Adam. May not end up even liking him, but I love you.” Sandro turns, opening his door to get out. Coming around, he wrenches open the passenger door and stares at him. “Get out. I want to cuddle you.” When there’s no response, he grabs Josh’s arm and pulls him from the car wrapping his arms around him. “Don’t do this to me, bro! It hurts.”
“I didn’t mean it. I was trying to fix it. Trying to get out of the way.”
“Well you did. It hurt me a lot that you would go off like that. The trip was planned together. Teaching you every night. Mucking around together. I’ve never had a brother. Never had anyone to wrestle with; to give a hard time to. Jarrod just isn’t like that. When you said what you said, it felt like you’d stuck a knife in me.”
“It was just so you’d leave me alone.”
“Yeah, that’s clear now, but if you ever say anything like that again…”
“Yeah, well you said lousy stuff too.” Josh sticks his chin out and pushes against Sandro’s chest. “You said I’d only give you one chance. As if that’s true. I’d do anything.” The two stand locked together until another vehicle appears over the horizon when they pull apart abruptly and climb back into their seats.
“How about you turn off that lousy music and put something decent on,” Josh says roughly. “How old are you anyway?” Without a word, Sandro offers him the IPod. “Where are we going? Where’s your father? I don’t want to see him.”
“Well, you’re going to have to, aren’t you? Because you’re stuck in the middle of the desert with me.” Sandro gives this some thought. “And, if you make trouble with him, you’ll have me to answer to.” Glancing across, he takes in the set of Josh’s jaw. “And may I remind you, of my two good arms and legs, and I’m a lot stronger than you – so don’t fuck me around!” This produces the first real grin he’s seen for days. “Take it seriously!”
“Yeah, yeah! Tough guy.” Rounding a slight bend in the road, they spy the Ute pulled up waiting for them. “But, where are we going to see your father? Give me some warning. To keep out of his way.”
“No you don’t. You need to act natural.”
“That is natural for me!”
“Yeah, I s’pose it is.” Giving the thumbs up to Jack as they swing past, Sandro begins to explain to Josh about tact and diplomacy, his listener splurting out regular retorts, which are ignored. This is the way the boy learns.
* * *
Dale is feeling morose. Becoming a Caretaker had been the pinnacle of his existence; the end point towards which he’d been striving for so long, he thought he’d never receive the call. When the Source had put the idea to him, he’d had difficulty believing what he was hearing and had several times dismissed the conversation as an illusion. It couldn’t be for him. He had no skills or gifts which supported the idea that he would be able to achieve anything by entering a human’s life and attempting to influence directions and beliefs. Being given Jack, a twenty-six year old Welfare student, as his first project had at first seemed like a coup of the highest proportions; someone who already had a great deal of depth and wisdom, love and commitment, gentleness and strength combined, had been given to him, Dale, to lead. He immediately began to imagine how much greater in the eye of the Source he must actually be, than what he had been convinced of for so long. He had set off with enthusiasm and pride to draw Jack towards a relationship with the Source.
He began by inserting his wisdom into many situations where his project had found himself confused. The first time hadn’t proved to be a huge success. Jack was struggling with an indigenous family who would not intervene to help a young adolescent boy needing some discipline. Dale had first suggested that the boy needed a good talking to by Jack, who, for some strange reason completely rejected the idea, after entertaining it only for a moment or two. Disappointed, Dale insisted, and the battle results were that Jack attempted a lecture which ended with Jack being removed from the case by his supervisor at the time. For a long while after that, he refused to listen to any inner voices. Dale, unable to show a presence physically, continued to offer ideas, all of which were dismissed peremptorily leaving Dale frustrated and beginning to believe his project a great deal more stubborn than he had first supposed.
In his later twenties, several things changed for Jack. The first was that he came out as gay and began having open casual sexual encounters which Dale knew to be against the Source’s desire. He knew this because ku always spoke about the importance of the quality of relationships and staying in touch, and casual sexual encounters were obviously a bad thing, given this. So he did his utmost to make Jack as shamed by these as he could. This resulted in Jack doing it more often, and in Dale being hauled before the Source and reprimanded for his work. Ku insisted that Dale, not Jack, had misinterpreted his instructions, and that Jack would learn for himself what worked and what did not in the relationship area. When Dale, disturbed and incensed, protested that ku must be mistaken because Jack was not relating as ku clearly expected him to, the Source had then instructed him to look around him and observe the development of people’s capacity to relate over time. Dale had protested that if he could have convinced Jack to do the right thing in the first instance then that would have been far better, but the Source had disagreed, and Dale began to believe that working for the Source in this capacity was not as much fun as he had supposed, and also that he received far less assistance from ku than he needed. But the Source had merely suggested Dale could to be spending more time learning from ku and less in giving instructions.
When he attempted to follow this advice, instead of feeling closer to ku as promised, and indeed it was the whole reason for him wanting to take on the job in the first place, he found ku distant and unavailable much of the time. Another terrible wound was inflicted when he noticed how close the other Caretakers were, and he began to feel extremely jealous. He avoided the work as much as possible and ruminated on his grievances while the Source continuously asked him to report on his progress with Jack. Jack, of course, had been completely ignoring him for a long while now which meant the Source’s displeasure in his work was followed by the suggestion they spend more time together in order that Dale grow in capacity. Round and around this circle they went with Dale becoming increasingly certain that the Source was some kind of monster who delighted in tormenting souls.
Following the encounter with his mentor and his boss, he knew he had greatly overstepped the mark and was now in deep shit; deep enough to bury him forever. He fronted up to the next call because he was given no choice. They eye each other in silence, Dale internally expostulating that it is the Source’s job to begin these conversations since ku knows the agenda and Dale does not. He is disconcerted when the Source answers him without him speaking the words. It is so difficult to remember things like that when you are worried.
“Excuse my mistaken belief that you have something to discuss with me, Dale, ku says. “Would you prefer to leave again?”
Now this isn’t helpful, Dale thinks. If he leaves now, the problem will go on, and he will never know how long the Source will ignore him before forgiving him and beginning to help him again, so he decides to stay and sweat it out. In the past, the discussions have always eventually terminated.
“You’re not enjoying the job as much as you thought, I suspect.” Now this also is typically unhelpful. You would think the Source would be able to realise the obvious which is that it would be a whole lot more enjoyable if he is encouraged and allowed to his job without so much criticism. But, of course, it continues in that direction. “How am I criticising you Dale?” How is he supposed to answer the obvious? Then, the worst happens. As usual. Instead of clarifying, the Source attempts to soothe him, as though he’s a baby. “Come and sit with me Dale!” That soft voice just makes him feel patronised. “How can I help?” They have been here so many times before that he can predict the way it will go. He will tell of his difficulties, and ku will offer some vague suggestion which, no matter how much he attempts to line it up with what he knows of the Source’s ideas, will result in him remaining lost.
“Every time I appear to Jack, it’s a disaster, and I don’t seem to be able to prevent it. He’s becoming increasingly resistant.”
“Have you spoken to Torrenclar about the last event?”
Dale squirms. “After the way he spoke to me when you were both ganging up against me, I couldn’t face it.” A feeling of great unease washes over him when he recalls how close Torrenclar is to the Source. Now, he’s made things a lot worse. He knows the two of them would have been talking about him after his dismissal. Laughing at him.
“Perhaps Torrenclar sees me differently from the way you perceive me.”
“Of course. That’s obvious,” he says with a sneer. “I was dismissed, and you kept him with you because you were insulted that I said what I thought.” He ponders on this for a moment. When he speaks next, his voice has a distinct air of belligerence about it; a fact of which he is completely oblivious. “I’m entitled to my own opinion!”
The Source smiles. “Of course you are.” This throws him. Ku is a tricky one. You have to be careful. Just when you think ku may have a sense of humour, ku gets offended. Like now. “Perhaps, I might be a little disconcerted, though, to hear myself described as a monster. Of course, many believe it to be true.” Ku appears to be giving this some serious reflection. “I wonder if it could be at all possible that your opinions might be just a little skewed.” The voice is gentle, conciliatory, and Dale experiences a wash of warmth and the strong desire to lean into the speaker, which he resists in every way he can.
In the past, giving into these feelings always ended in him losing some sense of his case; like he’s being brainwashed or something. He looks up encountering a sad, sweet smile. Hastily, he makes his excuses. “It’s just that when I let you do that to me, I forget what it was I was trying to nut out.”
