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    Rigby Taylor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Rough Justice - 18. Chapter 18

At daybreak Robert slipped from the bed, wrapped himself in a towel against the cold and ran down to the lake. The rising sun flung its shafts through the mist and wisps of vapour curled from the water. Five enormous black cockatoos flapped mournfully overhead, a heron announced its arrival with raucous honking, fairy-wrens inspected seed-heads on the tall grasses, a pair of indigo and yellow parrots displayed red bums as they shredded matching calliandros flowers, a whip-bird’s rising whine and crack was followed by his spouse’s chiu-choo reply, a large russet butterfly dropped to the path and lay on its side like a dead leaf, and the sun heaved itself over the edge of the mountain.

Red dragonflies chased electric blue, an insect flashed turquoise, a lone frog screeched, insects and hoppers sprang to life, monochrome trees became green, brown, blue, red and gold, dewdrops glistened on an enormous orb-web and a tear of incredulity at the perfection and variety of nature, blurred Robert’s vision.

From a stand of tristanias twenty metres above and behind, Bart watched Robert throw off his towel to expose a body as perfect as the morning, dive from the bank and swim vigorously to the steps, where Michael had just arrived for a morning dip. Wrapped against the chill they warmed themselves in the sun, Robert enthusiastically recounting everything he’d seen. His voice carried clearly in the stillness.

Bart knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but couldn’t bear to let Robert out of his sight. His love was an ache that engulfed his being. He couldn’t look at Robert without wanting to shout his love, to touch and hold him.

‘…you and John are the same age,’ Robert was saying, ‘but I’m four years younger than Bart. Won’t he get bored with me?’

‘I doubt it. After a while, though, when the novelty has dimmed, you’ll both probably begin to wonder what it would be like to go with other men.

‘Oh no, I’ll never...’

‘You're human – you will. But testing your charms on others is natural. How else can you be certain you’ve made the right choice? When it happens there’s no need to tell each other because I’m sure you're made for each other. I've never seen Bart so cheerful. It’s like a miracle.’

‘But... wouldn’t that be dishonest?’

‘Yes, but why give each other heartache while you sort yourselves out? There’s such a thing as too much honesty in a relationship. Living with a lover means sharing, protecting and considering their feelings. Telling him something that will hurt is not love, its stupidity. If you want to hurt him, then it’s time to examine your relationship. You’ll soon discover that sex with strangers is unfulfilling and pointless, not to mention dangerous. But people have to discover this for themselves.’

A lean body shot between them, diving into the water with barely a splash. Bart had heard enough.

‘You great galah. You’ll give me a seizure.’

Bart swam back to the steps, climbed out, grinned and shook himself.

‘Get away! You're worse than a dog. Drown him, Robert. Breakfast in ten minutes.’ Michael walked slowly back up the path while the two youngsters raced each other to the end of the lake and back.

After breakfast they climbed the mountain. At the base a magnificent stand of old eucalypts was the perch for a raucous squabbling of kookaburras, but most of the older trees were dead - bare bones above a canopy of tristanias. It wasn’t a long climb, but treacherous. They followed the base of unscaleable buttresses, scrambled up onto the edge of a bluff then trudged up a scrub-covered slope to the top.

Windswept bushes, rocks, native bees and several hundred butterflies greeted them. In the distance, sea hazily met sky, hills and mountains poked from rolling land, and green valleys carried roads between narrow ribbons of trees. A railway cutting gashed through barren furrows where someone had failed to profit from a cash crop. On the horizon, Noosa Hill was silhouetted against a pale sky.

After John had pointed out the major landmarks, they reclined on the rocks.

‘What do you think of the view?’ John asked.

‘I reckon...’ Bart and Robert began together. Bart laughed. ‘You first.’

‘Well - I almost wish I hadn’t come up. On the drive out here I thought we were travelling through forests. I felt excited about so much nature. But from up here you can see that virtually the only trees remaining are those on the roadsides. The private land has been cleared. Yours is the only property I can see with trees all over it. What were you going to say, Bart?’

‘That I thought it was a great view.’

‘Yeah, it is… but…’

‘At last, a doom and gloom disciple for John!’

‘You’re right, Robert,’ John said with predictable intensity. ‘No one gives a shit about starving wildlife…’

‘Roll up, roll up,’ sang Michael. ‘Watch the old man wallow in depression and tear out his hair! Guaranteed to frighten small children and dogs.’

Robert frowned and Bart gave a nervous smile, not sure how to react.

‘Doesn’t it worry you, Michael?’

‘Annoy? Yes. Worry? No. Humans are just doing what’s natural. Breeding and taking the easy path. If you offer birds cheese they’ll make gluttons of themselves and never bother to dig out another grub. Eventually we’ll come to our senses. If we don’t, nature will castigate us until we are knocked into line. Meanwhile, I intend to enjoy myself while trying not to make things worse. At least we aren’t breeding.’ He smiled at their frowns. ‘Cheer up; you’re too young to get bogged in a mire of despair over something you can do almost nothing about. If everyone does their bit then things will improve. If they don’t, it won’t. It’s as simple as that. It’s pointless to ruin your enjoyment of the minute because things could be better. Of course they could! Accept what is and work from there, is my motto.’

 

The evening meal left them sprawling in the lounge listening to a Vivaldi mandolin concerto. ‘Why haven’t I heard this before? It’s brilliant! It goes on and on like a train sweeping me to... somewhere exciting. Bart's got some great discs too.’

‘Thanks to our hosts.’ Bart turned to Robert. ‘The first time I met John was when he and Michael took me to a Mozart piano recital. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Michael, I’ve often wondered… why did you invite me?’

‘Blame John. I’d been raving about the sweet young thing who jogged along the Riverside Bikeway every evening as I was taking my constitutional. He told me to check you out.’

‘You mean?’

‘Yes. It shames me to admit it, but I hadn’t twisted my ankle. I could have driven myself home. You wisely refused to come inside, so I insisted you let me shout you to a concert.’

Bart burst out laughing and Michael changed the subject.

‘What sort of music do your parents like, Robert?’

‘Romantic stuff. Beethoven, Debussy… pleasant enough if you’re in the mood, but it’s just sounds going nowhere I reckon.’

‘How perspicacious. You’re like me – need something intelligent – Mozart, Vivaldi, Bach...’

‘You pompous ass!’ John turned to the others. ‘When I met him he liked pop-music.’

‘Only for dancing. I still love dancing, but John’s too old.’

‘Not too old! The music’s always too loud.’

‘That’s what I said, too old. I made a lot of money out of pop.’

‘How?’

‘As a stripper.’

‘You? A respectable accountant?’ Bart was stunned. ‘When?’

‘I started when I was twenty-two and gave my last show on my fifty-first birthday.’

‘But...’

‘Yes, I was bald by then. Wigs and dim lights fool audiences.’

‘How’d you get into it?’

‘I was in London, needed exercise, joined a gym. Eric, one of the trainers offered me a week’s wages for half an hour’s work - a fun wrestling demo at a Ladies Night. So I’ve something in common with you two… wrestling. We donned muslin shorts and had a bucket of water thrown over us, rendering them transparent. They’d been stuck together with water-based glue, so fell apart as we wrestled. We ended up jiving with the audience; dozens of raucous women. It was a riot. After that I used Eric’s agent. When I got back to Australia I did Hen parties… Mum’s Fiftieth Birthday, Farewells, private showings in motel rooms, specialty nights at restaurants…’

‘Don’t you miss it?’

‘If I haven’t looked in the mirror for an hour or two I sometimes fantasise I’ll do it again. Actually, it’s an enormous relief not to have to worry if I’ve got a pimple on my bum or my butt’s sagged another notch.’

‘You were very tolerant, John.’

‘I’m not above selling my lover for twenty pieces of silver.’

‘Wasn’t it forty?’

‘He wasn’t worth that much.’

A friendly silence descended; two thinking of their life to come, and two of what had gone, never to return.

And what are your plans, Robert?’

‘I haven’t any… unless...’

‘Yes?’

‘I can’t stop thinking about this house and how you and Michael designed and built it. I’d love to do something like that. You know, be an architect maybe. It’s the buildings I like studying most in Art History. And… I wouldn’t mind being a stripper.’ He blushed at the confession. ‘I always imagined you had to have a special sort of hard character. But if Michael could do it…’

‘What does teacher think about that?’

‘It doesn’t surprise me. You should see his wrestling gear. I wouldn’t let him wear it in front of the headmaster.’

‘And who shows so much leg in the playground that the girls all have the hots for him?’

‘Get Michael to give you a few hints, then you can earn enough to keep us in luxury.’

‘That’s an idea. I’ll look out some old costumes. Those friends I told you about are coming tomorrow evening and, if you dare, you can put on a show.’

Robert’s heart lurched. He looked at Bart.

‘Go for it. You’ll floor ’em.’

‘You’re on!’

‘How’s your mother, Bart?’ Michael asked. “Left your father yet?”

‘She’ll never do it. I telephoned her this afternoon; we’ll pick her up at Roma Street on Saturday morning. She’ll be glad to get away from Toowoomba for a few hours.’

‘And then it’s down to the Gold Coast for Robert’s debut as a wrestler?’

‘Debut and finale I expect,’ laughed Robert. ‘We’ll let you know how it went.

 

Copyright © 2018 Rigby Taylor; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

hi again rigby,

 

nice surprise to find these two chapters! and want to say how much i am enjoying an australian perspective - while i appreciate and respect all of the authors who post here, it is very usa/eu biased. variety is so important and very much appreciated.

 

enjoy your week!

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3 hours ago, NoSkis said:

hi again rigby,

 

nice surprise to find these two chapters! and want to say how much i am enjoying an australian perspective - while i appreciate and respect all of the authors who post here, it is very usa/eu biased. variety is so important and very much appreciated.

 

enjoy your week!

Thank you NoSkis. I'm wondering if I should pronounce that as nose kiss,  or if you are one of those dare-devils who water ski in bare feet. I hope you found more than 2 chapters - they're on this site somewhere. :o

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2 hours ago, JeffreyL said:

What wonderful, interesting friends! Bart and, by association, Robert are very lucky!

Yes, they are. but I reckon they deserve it.

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20 hours ago, Rigby Taylor said:

Thank you NoSkis. I'm wondering if I should pronounce that as nose kiss,  or if you are one of those dare-devils who water ski in bare feet. I hope you found more than 2 chapters - they're on this site somewhere. :o

Hi Rigby,

 

i did find more than the two chapters - read the whole thing over the weekend and was just surprised to see two chapters at one time. and grateful! Now have to go search for any other writing you may have posted here. 

 

it is "No Skis" and yes, i was a barefoot water skier. I have moved, no longer have a boat or the 'footing friends I used to and have aged. at 53, maybe that is a good thing and has prevented injuries (and yeah, i know i am just trying to justify it). last time for me was at age 50 - but i miss it and the very small group of people who willinging beat themselves up (water is like concrete at 60+ kph). we are coming into spring here in the northern hemisphere, so let's see what i feel like and what kind of trouble i can get into :-P

 

 

 

 

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Oh, you young thrill-seekers... I would always imagine hitting a just submerged sheet of something hard and sharp and slicing off the soles of my feet. From my experience many moons ago, spring in the northern hemisphere didn't arrive until April/May - Isn't climate change wonderful.

So far, this is the only book I've posted here, but more and better will follow as soon as this one's finished. Glad you're enjoying it.

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I suppose they have a point about it hurting your lover to tell them but I don’t know if I agree with the advice to not tell your partner if you cheat on them. I think hearing that advice would just make me more worried/paranoid about my lover cheating on me plus they also said it was inevitable that they would stray from each other which while likely true is disheartening to hear said so frankly.

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2 hours ago, NimirRaj said:

I suppose they have a point about it hurting your lover to tell them but I don’t know if I agree with the advice to not tell your partner if you cheat on them. I think hearing that advice would just make me more worried/paranoid about my lover cheating on me plus they also said it was inevitable that they would stray from each other which while likely true is disheartening to hear said so frankly.

If the straying was just a one-off that meant nothing - a young man's exploration into his sown sexuality, then why mention it? As long as it was safe sex, it isn't really that different to having a game of tennis with someone. But if it becomes a habit! Then that's very serious and demands a long, serious chat and decisions. Robert is really too young to settle to one person, so he will have lots of curiosity, if that is denied him his imagination will work overtime, he'll start to imagine he's missing out on something wonderful. So if he strays once or twice and discovers it wash't worth it - that he's much better off with Bart, then it is a good thing. Yeah - relationships are complicated, we all have to work on our own as we are the only ones who know what's best for ourselves. One thing is certain, jealousy is the greatest enemy of a relationship. 

Edited by Rigby Taylor
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I love the descriptions of nature. It is, unsurprisingly, a very different assortment of flora and fauna than we have in Montana. It is fortuitous Robert and Bart have such an intelligent and sympathetic couple to talk with about their lives and futures. 

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5 hours ago, sef said:

I love the descriptions of nature. It is, unsurprisingly, a very different assortment of flora and fauna than we have in Montana. It is fortuitous Robert and Bart have such an intelligent and sympathetic couple to talk with about their lives and futures. 

Thanks for the comment. I'm pleased you like the nature - so do we. Nature around here was very lush and magnificent until English colonists felled 99% of it for timber, then farming. Only a very few patches remain. The lake they went to is a few hours up the road from our place.We used to go there frequently, but it has become  popular so one is seldom alone and of course togs are required. I wouldn't say Bart's relationship with the elderly men was fortuitous - I think we attract and keep in contact with people with whom we feel a bond. Bart's meeting with Michael and John was lucky, but their continuing friendship was deliberate. A psychotherapist wrote and told me he instructed clients with relationship problems to read those parts of the book in which Michael and John discuss it. Their garden is ours - more or less.

Edited by Rigby Taylor
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Of course, you’re right we choose with whom we keep in contact. A mind-numbing shame so much wilderness has been destroyed for idiotic pursuits, makes me appreciate what stands for environmental protection in the states. Although, that’s being chipped away. High praise coming from your psychotherapist friend, but I think he’s well-founded, this really gets to the heart of a healthy relationship. The garden sounds delightful. One question, is John really the more pessimistic one? Michael seems quite easy going from these descriptions.

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5 hours ago, sef said:

Of course, you’re right we choose with whom we keep in contact. A mind-numbing shame so much wilderness has been destroyed for idiotic pursuits, makes me appreciate what stands for environmental protection in the states. Although, that’s being chipped away. High praise coming from your psychotherapist friend, but I think he’s well-founded, this really gets to the heart of a healthy relationship. The garden sounds delightful. One question, is John really the more pessimistic one? Michael seems quite easy going from these descriptions.

They both have identical opinions about the state of the planet and humans. Michael copes by apparently taking it all in his stride, signing every petition possible and donating to worthy organisations. Convinced that we've passed the point of no return so it's pointless even hoping to mitigate the effects, John vents his frustration in pessimistic outbursts, then carries on as if nothing's changed because to do otherwise is silly. Both expect to die before the shit really hits the fan, but if they last too long, they've exit strategies. Pity for  innocents such as Pacific Islanders, whose lives have contributed nothing to climate change, yet are suffering the most, haunts both men.

Yes, the garden is fun - an almost wilderness that changes constantly so we forget sometimes where we are, and lose each other daily. There have been enormous changes over the 23 years we've been here - thanks to encroaching subdivisions, urbanisation and pet dogs and cats. Wildlife such as  wallabies and kangaroos that were once plentiful - now gone, several varieties of large lizards gone, echidnas gone, most birds and a few possums and snakes have remained because of the abundance of sustenance in our forest - but the drought is causing that to dry up too, so how long they will remain is unclear with no rain in sight. We rely on rain for all water, so life is precarious for the natural world. Increasingly so for humans too - but most haven't accepted that yet and are still mining coal and wanting to build coal fired power stations. Australia is not an independent country, it is a sub-state of the USA, which we follow unquestioningly,  and that accounts for the lack of social or political action - no politician dares do anything sensible in case Uncle Sam gets annoyed and imposes sanctions, destroys the economy, and imposes a dictator as he's demonstrates a willingness to do on numerous occasions. :ph34r:

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7 hours ago, Rigby Taylor said:

They both have identical opinions about the state of the planet and humans. Michael copes by apparently taking it all in his stride, signing every petition possible and donating to worthy organisations. Convinced that we've passed the point of no return so it's pointless even hoping to mitigate the effects, John vents his frustration in pessimistic outbursts, then carries on as if nothing's changed because to do otherwise is silly. 

Ah, got it. My husband is definitely the petition signer in our relationship.

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