Monday, September 15, 2008

My Story, 10 (final)

Next morning, in the cold light of day, I was having second thoughts, wasn’t I? It was easy enough to get excited about this plan when Dennis was there, but now he wasn’t.

What if it didn’t work? It worked for him, but he was who he was and I was who I was. Could I really pull this off? What if it finished with me getting beaten-up or something?

No. That was not going to happen. Denise would be with me and, to hell with them anyway! The Pricks already hated me, how could it get any worse than it was?

But, once I ‘came out’, like we were planning, there’d be no going back. I’d be the campy queen forever. Could I do that? Did it matter? Dennis might not be gay, but I was.

You know what? Fuck’em! I was not one of them and I never would be. I had no intentions of living around here any longer than I had to anyway. As soon as I could, I’d be out of there and, yeah – I really wanted to hit back and shut them down. Pricks!

We were going to do this.

Despite my resolution, I was still really nervous when I headed over to the school at my usual time. I wanted to, but I still wasn’t sure if I could go through with this. Hey! I was still just a kid, wasn’t I?

My heart was in my mouth and beating wildly as I walked into the school through the locker-room. I didn’t use my allocated locker, but still had to go through the room.


It all turned out to be much easier than I had expected, (and feared!). Denise was there, dithering around in her locker and giving everyone a running commentary on what she was looking for. She grinned and winked at me as I walked past. There were just a few other kids still in there, mostly girls. Why do girls take ten times as long to do anything?

Jillian Carew, a nasty baggage if ever there was one, blocked my way and looked me up and down with a sneer. “What’ve you done to your hair, you Little Faggot?”

(I hadn’t done much at all really – just tied it tighter and higher on my head than it usually was. It made for a huge ponytail.)

“Darling!” I squealed. (It was mostly nerves, but it worked anyway). “When I need fashion tips from a Front-Bum, I’ll be sure to come to you. However, there’s no time right now.”

A Front-Bum? Dunno where that came from, but it worked. A couple of the others burst out laughing and Carew went all red in the face. She stepped back, like she was in shock or something. I walked on, feeling like I was 10 feet tall.

“Burn!! Sweetheart!” Denise squealed as she came tripping after me. “Well done, my Little Virgin. Don’t let the Front-Bums grind you down!”

She linked arms with me and, laughing aloud, we burst together into the room for our first class. Everyone sat gawking at us, but no-one said a word.

“Where shall we sit today?” Denise camped it up. “Right here! In the middle where everyone can look and admire us.”

We settled down, together, in the centre of the room.

“Ohmigod! Just what we need, another one. Denise has had a baby!”

I turned and batted my eyes at Gregory Brown. “Are you my Daddy, Gwegowy?”

“Not bloody likely! Don’t talk to me, you little Queer.” He lost himself in his book.

(‘Hah! Easy!’) This was fun – most fun I’d had for weeks. Denise was so right. They could dish it out, but they couldn’t take it. Not in public anyway. Mind you, I’d still be worried about meeting any of them after dark. We’d just have to make sure that that didn’t happen.

The day went on and I was having a wonderful time. Right again, Denise. We made a great double-act and I was having fun. I even caught teachers grinning at us a couple of times.

One teacher wasn’t smiling though, she was scowling. My mum was obviously not impressed at all. We’d be talking about this. Ah, whatever! That’d be later and this was now.

I really think that I should be on a stage There was a real ham actor inside of me. Fun, fun, fun.

Mr. Stafford wasn’t smiling either, but he wasn’t scowling. I don’t think he knew what to make of the new me. After they got over the initial shock, some kids, mostly girls, were playing along with us and encouraging the show.

(That’s a funny word, ‘initial’. Three ‘I’s’, go figure! It doesn’t look right, but it is – I checked.)

After lunch, which I had at home, alone, we went out for sports. Well, most of us did. Denise didn’t; she was excused from all sports because she had a doctor’s certificate that said that she had to be. It was probably all a lot of rubbish, but the school couldn’t argue with a doctor.

So, Denise went to the library, and I went, with everyone else, to the sportsfield. I don’t know, it might’ve been for my benefit, but that day Mr. Stafford was trying something new. We weren’t playing football, or any other contact sport, instead, we were going for a cross-country run.

‘Cool. As long as no bugger trips me, I’ll be all right here.’

Distance running was the one sport that I was good at.

Mr. Stafford explained that we were to run down the main road through the village, across the bridge over the river and out to the old Forest Service Headquarters out on the back-road. Returning, we were to run around the road at the back of the village and back to school through the side-entrance.

We had to do some stretching and warm-up exercises, then lined up and he fired his starter’s pistol and everyone headed off. (Yeah, he was a bit of a ham too!) The accompanying teachers were in their cars. That’s not fair!

For a while, I was flapping along at the back with the most useless and disinterested runners, but I soon got tired of that. I decided, ‘Dammit! I’m going to run. I can do as good as any of this lot.’

For the first time in the day, I got serious and I started running as hard as I could, easily overtaking runner after runner. Nobody wanted to be overtaken by the queen, but I gave them no choice. I was determined and I was good at this.

I’d like to say that I won the race, but I didn’t. I came in a very creditable second though, close behind the winner and miles ahead of anyone else. Sheesh! You’d think that country kids would be fitter!

The winner was Joel. Well, he was bigger and stronger than I was and I couldn’t quite beat him. Shame that he wasn’t still hung-over from Saturday night, then I would’ve had him. Still, pretty good, I thought. A good result for a year 9 kid.

Mr. Stafford thought so too. He was delighted, he said. Mum was delighted too, so that got me off the hook over the rest of my behaviour that day. Well, almost.

We had a long talk about it that night. She was not convinced that it was the right thing to do, but she let it go. I would ‘just have to be very safety conscious, there’s some bad people out there.’

I actually never had any trouble in all the time that I kept the act up. I guess that it was a small town where everybody knew everybody, and I was lucky, very lucky.

And that was the beginning of my new life in Tiroroa. It was much better than what I’d had before. I guess it’s true what they say, “Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you’ll cry alone.” Everybody loves a clown.

There’s nothing much to say about the rest of the year. Life went on – same old, same old. Joel was okay. We were never going to be close friends, but we weren’t enemies.

I did see a fair bit of him out of school. His father and my mother were an on-again, off-again item, they tended to blow a bit hot and cold. We all got together for meals and outings sometimes, and all went to Wellington for a weekend once.

Joel and I got on okay. He did hint, sometimes, about sex, but I wasn’t interested. He was a bit too much in love with drinking for my liking and, besides, it would almost be like incest, wouldn’t it? Him screwing me, while his father did the same to my mother? Eww!

So, the year rolled on. Weeks turned into months. Denise and I were a great double-act at school. Lotsa laughs! I was renamed ‘Lizzy’. Lizzy? It’s short for Elizabeth, the Virgin queen. That was me – almost a virgin and almost a queen.

Actually, Queen Elizabeth the 1st made a speech to the troops at Tilbury, when they were waiting for the Spanish Armada to invade – “I am come amongst you, as you see, at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and my people, my honour and my blood, even in the dust.

I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a King of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe should DARE to invade the borders of my realm!”

Stirring stuff! I didn’t mind being named after Elizabeth. (You can keep the dresses, but I wouldn’t mind the jewels – that’d be nice!) One day, I’m going to travel. I’m going to Virginia in the US. That was named after her too.

Christmas came around and everything changed again – dammit! I was just getting comfortable with the way things were, but nothing stays the same. Denise finished school at the end of the year, and she wouldn’t be back

Dennis, not Denise, was going to a classy boarding school in Wellington. I was pleased for him, in a way. That brain of his needed more that Tiroroa High had to offer, but – bugg’rit! I was going to be alone again.

We were to spend almost two years in Tiroroa. That was the first year. I’ll tell you about the second one when I’m back – if I’m back. ‘Bye.

6 comments:

phnx55mn said...

I'm tempted to laugh at the "if", David, but i'm afraid you might not come back just to show me, and i'd die if you don't bring our Virgil back. He just GOT here! And the fun just started and he deserves a boyfriend, doesn't he?

I do NOT speculate, but I guess I still hope. That's good, and it's all because of you. I find that quite delightful in itself. And of course, you, too, but you knew that,I hope. (Hey, I think I came full circle).

You're the best David, and I thank you.

Tracy

Anonymous said...

Hey David,

Make sure you come back with Virgil´s story, a shame "Denise" is out of the picture!

The story is good and bright as always, so quitting it here at this point is stupid and doesn´t make sense at all. And as Tracy correctly states Virgil needs to find a loving mate, his "Billy". As he´s only living in Tiroroa for two years, so him meeting someone in Westpoint or so should be possible to think of...

Love it thus far yet MORE!!!!!

Joah!!

Anonymous said...

"Final" How I dislike that word, David. You can't quit now. Things are just starting to get interesting. Maybe young Stafford can turn out to be a good guy after all. Like Joah said, Virgil needs to find his Billy.

Please, keep up the great job!

Mark

Anonymous said...

Sorry - just catching up on the last few chapters after a holiday.

I'm not at all sure that the campy act is such a good idea - as Dennis said, how's he going to find a boyfriend now?

Ah well, I'm sure you have the solution all planned out for part 2.

Thanks, as always,

Alastair

david said...

Hey Guys,

Thanks. REALLY thank you!

I get tired & discouraged sometimes and, here's a tip for anyone who wants to write a story - Don't read Michael Arram's stories! He's way too good and makes everyone else look silly.

NEway, Part 2 tomorrow, (I hope).

cheers

Anonymous said...

Oh curses and other things be heaped upon you, David. Now I'm going to have to read all of Michael Arram's stories, and I have little enough time as it is!

I've read the first few chapters and you're right - they're very good. Where you're wrong, though, is to imply that he's better than you. He's just different - his style isn't nearly so individual as yours.

Your style has a slight naivete that suits your characters perfectly. So, no self-deprecation please, and no fishing for compliments either. You can't seriously doubt that your writing is very, very good.

Alastair