Date: Sun, 29 Jan 2012 19:43:56 +0200 From: Sean Halford Subject: Stronger Than Lions Chapter 27 Stronger Than Lions by Sean J Halford Chapter 27 A Miracle on Long Street We sat on the couch in the living room as Chris unloaded a third major soliloquy. `When I saw it was Dawkins who had called for me I knew something was up. I wanted to warn you, but I couldn't. The guy basically went on this rant and told me it was against nature to be gay and that I had everything going for me until now. I told him that didn't matter but he was trying to convince me that I was going "through a phase" and he was going to have to be cruel to be kind.' `How do you mean?' `He told me that your reputation as one of the school's star pupils was at stake, and that if we were still together he'd be forced to make "some changes" to your school record.' `For fuck sakes! He threatened me with messing with your career!' I tried to bring my rage down to a simmer. `Really?' asked Chris, shocked. `What else did he say to you?' I told him. `We've both been fucking had,' he said, shaking his head. `He played me like a violin. Cal... I'm so sorry. I honestly thought that it would be better for me to stay away from you... that I was brining you nothing but misery. I was stupid to think like that. I don't know if you'll buy this, but I did it... I did it because I love you, and if your life was going to be better without out me, then, I'd leave.' His eyes were huge and his lip quivered, as if he were an anime version of himself. I grabbed his hand. `I get it,' I said. `I guess we were both led to believe that we were corrupting each other. I thought... you didn't love me any more. I was stupid too.' He held me tight. `God, Cal, I could never stop loving you, numbnuts.' We cried and held each other for a few moments. `Are we ever going to stop crying?' I said eventually, snorting and blowing my nose loudly. He grinned. `Probably not. I mean... you make it real, Cal. You let all my feelings flow. You make me real.' `Stop it,' I said. `I'm half expecting strings to start playing.' We laughed and sat in silence for a while. He played with my hair and flicked a lint ball off his pyjamas. `So, I gather that you slept here last night? I'm confused.' `Yeah. Um. I slept in the spare room. Your dad fetched me.' `I thought so! I heard a car... but it was like two in the morning! What happened?' `I called him. I was drunk, and I couldn't get home. And I remembered what he's always saying, that we could call him.' `I'm glad you did. Where... where were you and why were you drinking?' `I was trying to erase my feelings. Last night, Rob came to my place. I think he'd just left from visiting you. My aunt let him in and he just burst into my room and gave me the grilling of my life. I needed it, I tell you.' `Oh fuck.' `Don't be angry with him, Cal. He loves you so much. It was because of him that I realised my reaction was totally the wrong one. I felt so shit I just got into my car and drove and drove. I ended up in Long Street and started pissing it up. Then I remember puking in front of the car and realising I needed to call someone... and I called your dad. He just came, no questions asked, and brought me here. I told him the whole sorry story while he helped me sober up. Then he put me to bed. I felt like a little boy. I mean in a good way. My dad... my dad's never done that for me. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay your dad for his kindness.' I took a deep breath, and quietly thanked God - whatever he, she or it was - for the saint my father was. `My dad loves you, Chris; he loves you like you're his own kid. You don't have to repay him.' Chris nodded meekly and wiped his eyes. `I just don't know why Dawkins would react like this,' he said eventually. `I mean, he's obviously a homophobe, but why is he so desperate to break us up?' `I think I know why,' said my father, casually striding into the room. We both looked around with fright. `Sorry to startle you, but earlier this morning I had a long conversation with the Headmaster's secretary. I may have been inactive for a couple of months, but I am a member of the School's governing body, and, as you might guess, that gives me a little bit of clout. Which I've never needed to use, until now.' I'd nearly forgotten that my father was a respected elder in the running of the school's affairs. He smiled. `With a little bit of the old MacLeod charm, Mrs van der Heever sang like a canary. I said I wanted to chair an emergency meeting of the governing body and the PTA because I heard a rumour that the school's reputation had been compromised. She thought I didn't know the details, and said I really shouldn't spread any anxiety because the school was about to receive a substantial donation from a private company and the last thing we needed now was some scandal. I mean, please. A "scandal" about a kiss. But then I dug a little deeper about how the donation had been set up and she said she could tell me nothing except that this company had approached Mr Dawkins directly.' `What company?' I asked. `Some corporation called Eagle International,' my father said, shrugging. `They're wooing different schools and I think Dawkins is hungry for the opportunity.' Chris nearly dropped his mug of coffee. `Eagle?' he said, shocked. `That... that's my father's company!' `Oh my God,' said my father. `Now it all makes sense.' `The bastard!' cried Chris, punching a pillow. `The fucking bastard! He's still pissed about me and Caleb, so he wants to tear us apart!' `I'm so sorry, Chris,' said my father quietly. `But don't say that. Don't drag yourself down to his level.' Instinctively, my father and I both hugged him. `This is awful,' I said. `So fucking petty,' said my father. We were both startled: he hardly ever swore. `I'm sorry Chris, but I want to punch him and Dawkins's lights out.' `You have my blessing,' said Chris grimly. `I shouldn't have said that. I think... I think because your father is homophobic this is his way, however misguided and twisted, of trying to "sort you out". He doesn't want you to be gay because he thinks that he did something wrong. As if. You're one of the most together young men I've ever met. Don't hate him, Chris. Don't take on his negative energy.' `You mean I must turn the other cheek?' `Yes and no,' said my dad. `Yes, in that you don't spew back the same hate. No, in that you hold your head up high and be proud of who you are. Why the hell do people have to get their knickers in a knot about who loves whom? I mean, as long as you aren't related or under age or something.' `You're awesome, Dr MacLeod.' `It's Devon, remember, Christopher,' he said, and mussed his hair affectionately. `What are we going to do, though?' I asked. `Leave it to me... no, Cal, don't fret. I can be discreet, you know. Perhaps it sounds a bit perverse, but your mother would absolutely love investigating this scandal. She'd bite onto a story like a terrier and wouldn't stop until the truth came out. I've learnt a thing or two from her, don't you worry. Besides, Chris, I believe your mom is coming back tomorrow - you have more than enough on your plate. I took the liberty of speaking to your aunt; she's called the school and told them you're ill.' `Thanks, um, Devon.' `Looks like another pupil has fallen victim to "the flu",' I said chuckling. `Yeah,' said my dad. `If I have my way, the only thing Paul Dawkins will have accomplished is give my son a two week holiday. Although that's no excuse for you to slack off, son. I expect you to be fully up to date by the end of the weekend, I called Bella this morning and she's coming this afternoon with all the work.' `Yes sir. I'm sorry I lied to you.' He looked me in the eye and put his hand on my shoulder. `Cal. I guess I realise why you did it; you were ashamed. For no reason. Promise me you'll always tell me the truth.' `Thanks, Dad,' I said softly, and hugged him. He sat down between Chris and me and put his arms around us. `No-one,' he said fiercely, `and I mean no-one, messes with my cubs,' he said. Devon MacLeod, the lion in mouse's clothing. I suddenly realised I was in the presence of one of the greatest men I would ever know. As quickly as his proud growl had appeared, it retreated, and the familiar shyness came back. He got up and looked askance. `I've said enough. I'll leave you two... but Chris, you better sleep off the rest of your hangover and get a shave. You look like hell and you need to be shipshape for your mother tomorrow.' `Of course, sir,' said Chris, and gave my dad a salute as he shuffled back towards his study. I blew out my cheeks. I was drained, but happily so. There had been so much negativity, so much sadness and despair, that its sudden departure had enervated me. `Are you still mad at me?' said Chris. I punched him on the shoulder and started tickling him. `How could I stay mad at you, dickwad,' I said, and he retaliated by grabbing me in a chokehold. We ended up wrestling about on the floor for a minute or two, until we upset the vase of flower on the coffee table and rushed to clean up the mess like two guilty children. `Hey guys!' called my dad from down the passage, `keep it down! I'm on a phone call.' We both giggled. `Come,' I said, still catching my breath, `let's go upstairs.' Chris's eyes brightened. `I guess this means I can sleep my hangover off... with you?' I sniffed him and made a pouty face. `Only if you get your sorry ass into the shower. You smell ripe.' Chris sniffed his armpits and blushed. `Er, I guess I do. Perhaps, um, you could help clean me up?' `I think I might need to do that,' I said with a mischievous grin. Half an hour later, scrubbed fresh and pleasantly sleepy, we tumbled into bed and spooned. It started raining outside and the wind made the plane tree sway tragically in front of the window. I thought briefly of that scene in Poltergeist where the tree comes alive and tries to grab one of the kids, and how as a little boy I always used to close the curtains in my room when the wind came up. I remember I was too proud to get into my parents' bed from about the age of seven, and knowing this, my mother would let our golden retriever, Temba, into my room where he would lie at the foot of the bed. But now, this afternoon, the bare branches were not ominous, they just made me feel cosy as I felt Chris's warmth wrapped around me. Soon his soft snoring lulled me into my own heavy sleep. * We dozed till around three in the afternoon and were woken by the doorbell ringing plaintively. My dad had left a note on my door saying that he'd gone back to work for the afternoon. I shuffled downstairs and saw Bella's face on the CCTV monitor. `Hurry up, Cal, it's pissing down out here!' I opened the gate and she ran in. `Hey you,' she said, and dumped her bag into my arms. It was portentously heavy. `Is this what I think it is?' `Oh yes. You're going to be up to your eyeballs. Prelims are less than a month away, you know.' I nodded gravely. Chris came down the stairs and smiled sheepishly when he saw Bella. `Oh my,' she said. `The prodigal hunk returns. So I assume everything's copacetic with you guys?' We both nodded. `Oh, thank God. I was so relieved when your dad called me, Cal, but I didn't know if you guys had sorted things out. I was a bit miffed that Rob went ahead and gave your man a piece of his mind, but then I promised you I wouldn't say anything... but he didn't. Although, Chris, I had a thousand things to say to you.' Chris blushed and looked away. She walked up to him and forced him to look into her dark brown eyes. The rain had plastered a spitcurl against her forehead, and she looked strangely beautiful. `It's ok, lover boy. I don't think you meant to hurt Cal. You were avoiding him because you thought it would be better that way, isn't that so?' `Damn you women and your intuition,' said Chris uncomfortably. `Hah!' she said triumphantly, but then kissed him on the cheek. `It's ok; I still love you. You both look like you need some coffee.' `Good idea,' I said, leading the way into the kitchen. `I want to hear everything,' said Bella. `It's my right as a fag hag.' I rolled my eyes and switched on the coffee maker. * After Bella got me on top of all the work I'd missed, Rob came over later and we all hung about talking crap. It was so great having the gang together, and I felt that things were normalising. For the first time, too, there wasn't this fear of waiting for the next wave of crap to hit. I was acutely aware that there was this whole network of safety nets around me. They couldn't insulate me completely, nor would I ever want them to. Life is difficult, true, as M. Scott Peck says, but with the love of friends and family it doesn't have to be miserable. I thought of what the great Roman philosopher Seneca said: in life we are like a dog tied with a rope to a moving vehicle. We can try and rail against its course, in which case we will hurt and possibly even strangle ourselves, or we can walk in step with it and travel unencumbered. `What a week,' I said as we stood at the sink washing up. `Fucking ridiculous,' said my boyfriend as I passed him stuff to dry and put away. He looked disarmingly cute fussing about with the dishcloth. It hit me: we really were a couple; this domesticity put the seal on it. Whoever thought doing the dishes could be so romantic? `So, you must be glad that your mom's back tomorrow.' `Yeah. It's gonna be a bit weird, though. I mean... you understand I have to go back to my place.' I hadn't thought of that. I took a deep breath. `Cal...' I shook my head and smiled. `No, Chris, of course you need to move back. That was always the agreement. I mean, I'm going to miss waking up next to you every day, and God knows it was torture without you this week, but guess what, life carried on and I'm still alive.' He beamed at me. `I'm so relieved. But I owe you a lot of sleepovers at my place now.' `You're on,' I said, whipping his butt with the washcloth. I heard my father's car pull into the garage. `Oh good, you're still here, Chris,' said my father as he came in. `It just occurred to me that your Jeep is still parked in Long Street.' `Oh shit,' said Chris. `I forgot!' `That's fine. I paid one of those Congolese car guards R100 to look after it, it should be fine.' `Wow, thanks, Devon.' `Shall we go fetch it? Cal, you can drive.' `Dad, it's raining.' `Yes, and I'll be right next to you. About time you learnt to drive in wet weather. Just go slow.' `He's right,' said Chris. `Plus I have an idea. As payback, can I treat you guys to supper in Long Street? It's the least I can do.' `That's very generous of you,' said my father. `This old man hasn't been out in the centre of town for ages. I know this great place where Suzie and I used to go. On one condition.' `Sir?' `You two get the bulk of your homework done. I assume Bella came over? Good. You have an hour an a half before we go.' `Awesome,' I said, and Chris and I ran up to my room to tackle the terrors of geometry, physics, and in Chris's case, the slippery convolutions of French grammar. -------------- Catch the latest and official version of this story at http://www.gayauthors.org/story/sean-j-halford/strongerthanlions To Be Continued... Copyright 2012 Sean J Halford. All rights reserved.