Pestered by a smidge of guilt that Nana Locke’s contribution to the DNA project would be far greater than mine, on Wednesday I signed up for a VIP card at Spotlight and purchased twenty balls of the cheapest synthetic yarn. I hadn’t spoken to Isa since the dance and the confession session with Pericles at International Velvet. His belief that she liked me wasn’t exactly a green light – more a tentative amber. So for the next four days, between catch-ups with my schoolwork, I knitted alone. On Saturday, which was Anzac Day, I went down to visit Bert but he wasn’t home. Maybe he’d gone to the dawn service and hadn’t returned. Perhaps he’d served in the armed forces and lost his eye in battle. Who knew?
Back at school on Monday, I showed Isa a photo of Nana Locke and Glenda’s 12.3-metre stretch of double helix and the four metres I’d completed. She gripped my shoulders and shook me. ‘This is going to be beyond incredible,’ she said. ‘Are you excited? I’m excited.’ Those green eyes. Splinters of golden light in rainforest. Though we hadn’t discussed the school dance or my talk with Pericles, something between us had shifted.
Ms Tarasek requested that the collaboration pairs write a description and creative rationale for our work, along with display preferences. As our work was a guerrilla operation, neither Isa nor I had anticipated having to reveal its meaning before installing it – that would have defeated the purpose. ‘I’d thought we’d get Mr Jespersen to let us into The Labyrinth late one afternoon before security arrived,’ I said. ‘Now it seems we’ll have to go through official channels.’
‘Ms Tarasek won’t have a problem, but Dashwood probably wouldn’t approve of an artwork about the school being founded on eugenic ideals being wrapped around the nutbag who came up with them.’
‘We could omit the specific reference to eugenics and use some irony. Say it’s about Millington Drake’s dedication to the advancement of science for the betterment of humanity.’
‘I think we should be completely honest with Ms Tarasek.’
‘That puts the onus on her,’ I said. ‘This way we take responsibility for our own work. Once it’s up, we can tell people what it’s really about.’
‘I see your point. You’re as passionate about this as me now, aren’t you?’
‘After all the work we’ve put into it – yes.’
‘So we agree. We have to make sure it goes up.’
Together we wrote out a description of the knitted DNA that sounded more eulogy than indictment of Joseph Millington Drake. We submitted it, cautiously optimistic.
At lunchtime I met Isa, Phoenix and Pericles in the grove. Phoenix was explaining why she’d already ditched Kirk Shepard. ‘He was a terrible kisser. Too much pokey snake tongue.’
‘Maybe you could train him,’ Isa said.
‘What am I, a charity?’
‘Send him to me for a lesson,’ Pericles said. Then to the girls, ‘Don’t worry. I’ve told Lincoln.’
‘At long last,’ Phoenix said. ‘It was becoming such a hassle keeping it secret. Starkey’s already telling people anyway, and you’ll be the pink elephant in the classroom if you don’t come out soon.’
‘That’s a helpful way of putting it,’ Isa said.
‘It’s the truth. Nathan Trammel asked me if you were Pez’s beard.’
‘What’s that?’ I said.
‘The fake girlfriend or wife of a gay guy to make people think he’s straight. Big in Hollywood apparently. Even Heather Treadwell came up and asked me if it was true. She wanted to know so that she could pray for you, Pericles.’
‘Shit! Why is this even an issue?’ he said. ‘What am I supposed to do, call a special assembly? “Yes, it’s true. I am gay. That is all.”’
‘Maybe you should start with your family?’ Phoenix said.
‘Are you running for president of the Crestfield Gay and Lesbian Acceptance Group or something?’
‘No. But I do believe our school would benefit from more diversity. And I’d do anything to support you. We all would.’
‘Okay, then. You’re right – I’m sick of keeping it a secret.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m telling my parents tonight.’
‘Do you really think it’s the right time?’ I said.
‘There is no right time.’
At the end of the day, Starkey manifested like a tormenting spirit at the racks again, cigarette glowing on his lip. He blew smoke in my face and said, ‘How’s your bum chum going, trashman?’
‘Get lost.’
‘Little bit tetchy, are we? Had a lovers’ tiff?’
‘Piss off!’ I turned my back to him as I dialled the lock’s code.
‘Trying to hide the combination? Don’t wet your pants – I wouldn’t be seen dead on that thing. It’s gay, like you and your boyfriend. I’ve got proof on my phone.’
All of a sudden I smelt burning rubber. Starkey was bent down, melting the sole of my shoe with his cigarette lighter.
‘What are you doing, you psychopath?’
‘Seeing how long it would take you to notice.’
‘Whatever. I feel sorry for you.’
‘Not as sorry as you’ll feel when I tell everyone about you and Pooficles Poparse.’
I bit my tongue and pushed my bike up the embankment.
Tonight after dinner I received a text from Pericles.
I’ve been kicked out of home. Can I stay at yours?
Things had gone as bad as he’d predicted. I explained the situation to Dad and asked if Pericles could stay with us. Dad didn’t hesitate. His only question was whether Pericles needed to be picked up.
Pez declined and caught the train to Kings Cross like thousands of outcasts before – only his shelter was a luxury apartment on the twenty-seventh floor.
‘Thank you for letting me stay, M-M-Mr Locke,’ Pericles stammered when Dad met him at the door. Dad took him in his arms and hugged him till he started sobbing, then held him even tighter. He looked over his shoulder and winked at me. The hug we’d shared on Good Friday had been the first in ages, and I felt Dad’s love for me again as he embraced my friend. On release, Pez apologised repeatedly for being an inconvenience and disturbing our night. Dad made him a cup of tea and eventually he calmed down and shared his story.
He’d only intended to tell his mother. She cried then was struck mute for fifteen minutes. The first word she uttered was ‘Why?’, which was difficult for Pericles to answer because it seemed more aimed at God than him. When she finally composed herself, she hugged Pericles and told him that she’d love him no matter what, and that nothing could ever change that. It was probably unnecessary to add, ‘Even if you murder somebody’ – but she had.
Pez took some comfort from his mother’s allegiance, until his father’s car appeared in the driveway and she said, ‘You’ll have to tell your father now. I won’t be able to hide this from him.’ He begged her not to, but before Mr Pappas even had a chance to sit down she said, ‘Our son has something he’d like to tell you.’ There was no escape. He’d wanted to do it by degrees, but his mother had decided differently.
‘I’m gay,’ he said to his father.
Mr Pappas walked away without saying a word. Pericles followed him to the vegetable patch, where he was supposedly checking the progress of his eggplants. He turned and exploded in Greek. Pez understood nothing but the swearing. Then in English his father said, ‘This is your mother’s fault for letting your sisters dress you like a girl.’
‘That has nothing to do with it. I’m a man. I like being a man. I like other men.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Mr Pappas said. ‘This is a weakness you must overcome.’
The argument raged for an hour. Mrs Pappas, who’d forced the issue, desperately tried to placate her husband. But he was acting like a bull whose left testicle had been sliced off. He told Pericles that he wouldn’t permit ‘filthy behaviour’ with other boys under his roof. Interpreting this as an ultimatum, Pericles had thrown some clothes in a bag and come to ours.
Dad left Pez and me to talk, and we sat on the balcony watching the lights of the city. ‘Your father’s awesome,’ he said.
‘Trust me. He’s far from perfect.’
‘It was good of him to let me stay here with you. Even though the coming-out backfired, I’m glad Phoenix pushed me. It was like cutting open a festering boil. Not just my father, but heaps of other people have said homophobic stuff over the years without really meaning it, assuming I was straight. It probably slides off if you are. I thought it was sliding off me because I was in denial. But this tiny voice in my head would keep repeating words like “poof” and “faggot” over and over. It was killing me.’
‘It’s tough when the little man inside your mind is against you.’
‘Leave me out of this,’ Homunculus said to me.
‘I thought if I denigrated myself enough it would go away, like it was an ugly part of me I could get rid of. I thought it was so small and insignificant it would disappear if I kept it hidden. Now I’ve realised it’s not a separate thing. It’s part of who I am. The worst thing had been my father’s ignorance of how much he was hurting me. Now at least I’ll know that he means everything he says.’
‘You’ve been thinking about this for a long time,’ I said. ‘For years. And most of that time you’ve been fighting it. Your dad’s only just found out and his immediate reaction was to fight as well. But when he’s had a few days or weeks to think about it he’ll probably come around.’
‘More like months or years – if he ever changes his mind.’
‘You can stay with us for as long as you need to.’
‘That means a lot to me, but I don’t want to be a burden to your father.’
‘You’re not a burden and I can tell that he likes you already.’
‘Are you sure that you’re okay with having me here?’
‘Shut up,’ I said, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder. ‘I always wanted a brother.’
I showed Pericles where everything was and made up the bed in the guest room. After saying goodnight I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and heard him talking to Christina on the phone. The fallout had been huge – his father had dumped a tonne of shame on him. Shame seemed to be the flavour of the month. It felt like the right time to return to the book and discover what had happened to Edwin after being outed on stage by his doctor.
Hoping to receive some measure of consolation from my mother on returning home, I was cut to the quick when she expressed mortification at having witnessed my ‘indecent behaviour’ on the stage. Assuming she was talking about the exposure of my deformity, I argued that my sole purpose had been to rescue us from poverty.
‘You misunderstood me,’ she said. ‘I was referring to the deceitful impersonation.’
‘It was done only to protect my dignity.’
‘And instead destroyed it. There is no virtue in masquerading as a dark-skinned man and behaving in an animalistic fashion to suggest he’s inferior to ourselves. That sort of degrading act appeals to an ignorant audience.’
The following week I was ridiculed, spat on and several times beaten by Reg McGuffin and his gang, many of whom I’d once counted as friends. Their cruel blows were endurable but when they egged our home and pounded my brother Thomas black and blue on his way home from school, the weight of my responsibility was too much to bear.
When I thought matters couldn’t possibly worsen, I learnt that George Pemberton had been forced to pay Dr Melvin Fletcher one hundred pounds for proving me a fake. Pemberton invited me to his office on Monday and I feared he would demand compensation. On entering his sanctum sanctorum, I found he had company.
‘Edwin, thank you for coming in the midst of all the brouhaha,’ he said. ‘Allow me to introduce one of the world’s greatest showmen, Irving Melinkoff.’ The impresario was shorter and stockier than he’d appeared in the newspaper illustrations I’d seen. He was sporting an elegant green-and-silver-striped suit, a jewelled cane and a large mole above his lip, which was difficult to avert one’s eyes from. ‘Mr Melinkoff owns four theatrical establishments in America that by comparison make our humble operation resemble a flea circus.’
Pemberton invited me to sit on an Oriental chaise flanked by a moulded-tin foxhound flocked with tiny hairs. The dog’s wagging tail matched the rhythm of the seconds ticking away on a clock built into its side.
‘I found him while touring Germany,’ Melinkoff said. ‘Presented him to George as a small token of my appreciation for organising this meeting.’
‘Mr Melinkoff may well have the solution to our present troubles. Dr Fletcher has already donated the one hundred pounds to the Home for Destitute and Crippled Children. And while there’s no worthier recipient, it was galling that he’d claimed the prize, knowing full well your condition is authentic. Our only “ruse” was fabricating a more exotic identity for you.’
‘I must apologise, sir. I never expected him to come to the show.’
‘Don’t fret, son. Every setback is an opportunity in disguise. Three reporters were present when I handed over the cheque to Fletcher, and there’s nothing more effective than a magnanimous gesture to restore one’s reputation.’
‘Or to cover a multitude of sins,’ Melinkoff said with a wink. ‘But your reputation may be more difficult to recover.’ He turned and fixed his gaze upon me. ‘I’ve heard your neighbours have been downright unneighbourly.’
‘I’d run and hide ten thousand miles away to escape, but that would only be abandoning my family.’
‘Not necessarily.’ Melinkoff’s smile was all gold. ‘George here tells me you swim like a fish?’
‘I haven’t been to the baths in months for shame of my growth, sir.’
‘That wondrous anomaly will be your ticket to fame and fortune, my boy. I’ve got big plans for an aquatic show in a giant glass tank at Coney Island. I plan to have high-divers, mermaids, feats of endurance. Can you hold your breath for two minutes? Of course you can. Let’s time you.’
I filled my lungs with air, then closed my mouth and pinched my nose. After ninety-five wags of the tail, each more agonising than the last, I surrendered, gasping for air.
‘Not bad at all. I’ll have you doing three, four minutes with some training. You must come with me to Coney Island, son.’
‘With all due respect, sir, I couldn’t desert my mother.’
‘With the fortune we’ll make together, leaving your family for a while would be the kindest thing you could do. How does thirty pounds sound to you?’
‘Thirty pounds a month?’
‘A week – plus fifty right now if you sign on the spot. And one hundred to compensate my friend George here.’
After a few moments weighing my mother’s rebuke against Melinkoff’s undisguised eagerness, I said, ‘I’d be honoured to accept the offer, on condition that I’m not required to blacken my face.’
‘It’s a deal!’ He pumped my hand and slapped my back.
Thirty minutes later, alone on George Street, I realised what I’d done. The excitement of the offer soured quickly as I thought of the people I’d be leaving behind. I went straight to Lassetter’s and used half my first payment to buy a solid gold brooch: a dove flying through a diamond-studded heart. The accompanying letter I wrote to Diddy Budd is printed here with her permission.
My dearest Diddy,
If you’re reading this letter close to seven in the evening, my faithful brother Thomas has performed his commission with expedience. I imagine myself now standing on the stern deck of the S.S. Oceania as it passes between those rocky sentinels, North and South Head, looking back at the lights of the city and thinking of all the dear people I won’t see for at least a year, possibly longer.
As you’re aware, I’ve brought great shame on my family. How stupid I was to assume Dr Fletcher’s confidence! It would grieve me tremendously if you felt in any way to blame for what transpired by having allowed him up to my room that day. You have only ever shown my family the greatest kindness, for which I am truly thankful.
Taking yet another great risk now by leaving for America, I hope to earn enough money to clear my late father’s debt. Yet I remain the lowest form of coward, slipping away without expressing my true affection towards you in person. You see, it would break my heart beyond repair if ever I caught a look of revulsion in your eyes at the sight of me. You must have wondered why I’d backed away from you over the past few months. At least you now know the reason.
I once thought the problem would go away of its own accord, but that hasn’t eventuated. Pardon my arrogant assumption, but if you have any feelings for me then you must let them go. I’ve chosen never to marry, because the thought of passing this affliction on to some innocent offspring is unconscionable. As deeply as it pains me to write this, you must open your kind heart to another who is more deserving. Though initially painful, it will be easier for us both if we correspond no further. I have no right to ask this, but it would please me greatly if you maintained your friendship with my family, as they all adore you.
Finally, please accept this small token of my deep affection and gratitude for your unwavering kindness. Fly free and find great love, little bird.
Yours sincerely,
Edwin Stroud
Having experienced the look of revulsion from Nicole Parker last year, I fully empathised with Edwin’s fear of rejection from Diddy Budd. Both he and Pericles, for different reasons, had demonstrated a huge amount of courage by exposing themselves. In both instances their decisions had pretty much backfired – especially in the immediate fallout for their families. Their demonstration of courage had a price. One that I wasn’t prepared to pay.