“Are you going to be okay?” Mia asked Rhys.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked before taking another sip of coffee, trying to hide the nervousness he was feeling.
Mia looked around the coffee shop before answering. Rhys followed her gaze. There were a handful of tourists having breakfast, but otherwise the place was quiet — a fairly typical situation before ten on a Monday morning.
Mia leaned forward and lowered her voice. “You’re going to see a couple of gay guys to talk about a gay marriage. Don’t you feel a bit awkward doing that?”
Rhys was tempted to give her a flippant answer but he resisted. He elected to give her a partial truth, instead.
“A bit, but it’s for a friend — two friends, really — and it needs to be done. You and Mark have the harder job. If Vince isn’t there, you’ll have to tell Matt something, and I don’t know what it is you’ll need to say. I don’t envy you.”
He looked around so that he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye. “Where is Mark, anyway?”
Mia checked her watch. “He’ll be here soon. He finished work a little while ago and would’ve gone home for a shower. He’s normally at the shop by ten, so it won’t be long.”
“I would’ve thought you’d’ve left first thing in the morning. Aren’t you leaving things a bit late?”
Rhys regretted his tone as soon as the words had left his mouth. He was sounding peevish, when he was really just anxious and trying to pretend that he wasn’t.
Mia gave him a strange look before responding. He suspected she knew.
“It’s only two hours to Dubbo. We’ll be there around lunchtime, and have all afternoon to try to find Matt. Getting there earlier is unlikely to make much of a difference.”
She paused and looked past him. “Anyway, Mark has just pulled up. Wish us luck!”
They stood up at the same time. “Good luck, Mia. I hope Vince is there.”
“Me, too,” she said, then stepped over and gave Rhys a hug. “Good luck with your job, too.”
He hugged her back. “Thanks.”
Rhys watched her leave the shop and get into Mark’s car. He waited until they had disappeared down the road before sitting down again and finishing his then cool cup of coffee. Realising he was procrastinating, he made himself stand up, wave to Mrs. Corkhill, and leave the shop. He proceeded around the edge of the park to the door that was his destination. The letters frosted onto the glass said “Patterson and McKaylee”, with no indication of their profession.
Rhys hesitated for a moment and then pushed the door open and proceeded up the steps. The lawyers had their offices above the real-estate agent, overlooking the park at the centre of town. The steps led to a small room where a young lady sat behind a computer screen. The door next to her desk was closed.
“Rhys Dresden! You’re the last person I’d expect to see here. How can I help you?”
Rhys was embarrassed. He hadn’t expected to see someone he knew. Lynne Holden lived only a couple of houses from him. She was a few years older than Rhys, but he saw her regularly.
“Hi, Lynne. I was wondering if I could see Mr. Patterson or Mr. McKaylee.”
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked as she frowned at the computer screen.
“No. Is that a problem?”
“Maybe not. Wait here and I’ll see if one of them is free.”
While he had the best of intentions, Rhys would have been happy if she had told him to come back later. He realised he wasn’t as prepared for the meeting as he had thought.
Lynne got up and went through the door. Rhys sat down on a couch and started to go through the magazines that were piled nearby. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but investment and car magazines weren’t high on any list he would have thought of. He was about to flick through one when he saw a Footrot Flats comic book. He stared for a moment at the incongruous idea of a book of cartoons in a lawyer’s waiting room, and then started to read some of the adventures of Wal and Dog.
“Mr. Patterson will see you now.”
Rhys looked up and hastily dropped the comic book. He noticed Lynne trying to suppress a smile at his choice of reading material. As he rose to his feet he tried to pretend that he hadn’t really been looking at the cartoon collection. Unable to prevent a blush, he stepped past Lynne and through the open door.
“Just go through the door on your left, Rhys.”
“Thanks,” he muttered, shuffling along the corridor to the indicated door.
“Rhys Dresden?”
Rhys saw a well-dressed man in his late twenties, standing beside an old wooden desk. The deep, resonate voice gave an impression of confidence and maturity, and the pleasant smile almost put Rhys at ease. It was only the knowledge that the guy was gay that made him hesitate for a moment before reaching out and shaking the hand that Craig Patterson offered. The firm handshake completed the picture of someone who wasn’t the slightest bit effeminate.
Craig Patterson indicated that Rhys should take the leather upholstered seat in front the desk, while Craig sat down on the other side.
“Now, what can we do for you?”
“Well, I’m looking for some help.”
Rhys knew he was sounding weak and uncertain, but he wasn’t used to talking to lawyers, let alone gay lawyers.
“That’s what we’re here for. We mainly do contract and conveyancing work, but we can do other things when they’re required. What exactly is it that you need help with?”
Unable to maintain eye contact, Rhys looked past Craig Patterson and fixed his gaze on the bookshelf behind the lawyer. There was something reassuring about the formal appearance of the rows of law books.
“I’ve got a problem with a law. Well, it’s not my problem, exactly, but a friend of mine. I thought you might be able to help me… uh… him.”
“Well, we’ll try, naturally, but doesn’t your father usually use Ian Fitzgerald? Why aren’t you seeing him?”
Rhys shrugged. “I’m not doing this through my dad. In fact, I don’t really want him to know that I’m here.”
He glanced at the lawyer and saw Craig’s forehead wrinkled and eyes narrowed. The direct gaze intimidated Rhys and he quickly looked away again.
“Okay,” Craig Patterson said, stretching out the word. “Then can you tell me what it’s about?”
“Well, my friend needs your help. The law is supposed to be against him, but there’s loopholes in everything, right?”
“Not quite everything, but there are certainly a lot that can be exploited, if you know what you’re doing.”
Rhys sat still for a moment as he tried to work out how to ask his question. He felt uncomfortable talking about the subject, but he knew there wasn’t anyone better in town to discuss it with.
“Why don’t you just tell me what the charges are, and we’ll take it from there,” Craig said.
Rhys snapped his eyes back to the lawyer. “Charges?”
“Yes. What are the charges that you want us to fight?”
“I don’t understand,” Rhys said, starting to get confused.
“You’re here because you, sorry, your ‘friend’, is in trouble with the law. Isn’t that what you’re here for?”
Rhys shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
“But you said you had a problem with the law?”
“Not the law, a law. I need to know what my friend needs to do to get married.”
Craig Patterson rocked back in his chair, rested his hands on his abdomen, and started to twiddle his thumbs while staring blankly at Rhys.
“I’m sorry, but I thought you were here because you were in trouble with the law. I’ve heard of your reputation, so I put one and one together and came up with the wrong answer.
“Why are you coming to us for this? A church minister or priest, or a celebrant, would be better to talk to. They’re the experts in that sort of thing.”
Rhys grimaced. “But that’s the problem. They aren’t. I need to know how my friend can get married when the law says he can’t.”
There was silence while Rhys endured the steady gaze from the other side of the desk. He was the first to look away, dropping his sight to the polished desktop.
“There aren’t many restrictions on getting married. As long as both people are of a legal age, and not too closely related, they can get married.”
“Unless they’re both guys,” Rhys said, feeling a sense of relief at finally getting the main issue out of the way.
“Ah…”
The lawyer reached across and picked up his phone. “Leo, can you join me for a moment? Thanks.”
Replacing the phone, he smiled at Rhys, his face transforming to one of pleasantness instead of intimidation.
“I’ve asked my partner to join us. This is something I think both of us should help you with.”
“Thanks,” Rhys said, not knowing what else to say.
Moments later, a thin young man with thick glasses peered through the door. “What is it, Craig?”
“Have a seat, Leo. Do you know Rhys Dresden?”
“Only by reputation,” he said, smiling. “Pleased to meet you, Rhys.”
He held out his hand, which Rhys accepted, somewhat hesitantly. The man’s handshake was warm and welcoming.
“Uh… hi,” Rhys said.
Leo McKaylee picked up a chair from against the wall and moved it over to the desk, positioning it so that he could watch both his partner and Rhys.
“Rhys has just asked me how a ‘friend’ of his can marry another guy.”
“It’s not for me!” Rhys said, as he finally picked up on the fact that Craig thought it was Rhys that wanted to get married. “I just want to know how two friends of mine can marry when they’re both guys.”
“Can you give us some more details? The law is pretty clear. Two guys can’t get married,” Craig said.
“But I thought you lawyers could get around anything. Isn’t there a loophole you can use, or something?”
“There are a few countries that will allow it. If they go to Canada or The Netherlands, for example, they can get married there, but it won’t be recognised in Australia. Closer to home, New Zealand and Tasmania have civil registries where same-sex couples can record their relationships, though the Tasmanian one only affects state law, not federal,” Leo said.
“No, no. You don’t understand. They need to get married here!”
“I’m sorry, Rhys, but that can’t be done. The law is quite clear. Two guys…” Leo said, stopping when Craig reached out and put a hand on his arm.
“Just a second, Leo. Rhys, why don’t you tell us why they need to get married here?”
Rhys moved his head to look at first one and then the other lawyer. His heart was falling as the answer he had been given was sinking in. He rose to his feet.
“It sounds like I’m wasting your time. I’m sorry.”
“Wait a moment. You didn’t answer my question. Maybe we can help you, just not in the way you thought.”
Rhys looked at Craig Patterson and saw someone who sincerely cared. The dispassionate, distant mask that he had initially encountered was gone. With hope warring against realism, Rhys sat down.
“My friend needs to get married under The Tree. It can’t be done elsewhere. It has to be here.”
“Why does he have to get married there? I can understand why he’d want to, but you said ‘needs’, not ‘wants’. Why does he need it?” Craig asked.
Rhys dropped his eyes to his hands resting in his lap. He opened his mouth to say something, but he knew it was going to sound stupid.
“What is it, Rhys? Why does he need to get married under The Tree?” Leo asked, gently encouraging.
“Because that’s what’s needed to be done to heal The Tree,” Rhys mumbled.
Craig sat up straight. “The Heart of The Tree is gay?”
“You know about that?” Rhys asked, wide-eyed.
“Of course we do,” Leo said, shaking his head in wonder, a faint smile crossing his lips. “We might not mix a lot, but we’ve been here long enough to have tapped into the grapevine. We haven’t been following what’s been going on, but the story about The Heart of The Tree went right through town a couple of weeks ago.”
“I take it, it’s not you,” Craig said.
“No. Like I said, it’s a friend of mine.”
“In that case, I think we can help you,” Leo said, grinning broadly.
“How? A moment ago you were saying it couldn’t be done!”
“A moment ago we were talking about legalities. Now we’re talking about love.”
“I don’t understand.” Rhys shook his head as he struggled to grasp the point being made.
Leo smiled. “Legally, two guys can’t get married. However, I sincerely doubt The Tree pays any attention to what the politicians do in Canberra. What you want to know is how two guys can publicly pledge themselves to each other under The Tree. Is that right?”
Rhys shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“According to the legend, the marriage of The Heart is supposed to cure The Tree, isn’t that right?”
Rhys nodded slowly.
“But what’s a marriage? Do you seriously think The Tree cares about a piece of paper that grants legal privileges? Of course not! It cares about love. It’s the public declaration of two people that they want to spend the rest of their lives together that’s important, not the piece of paper, or what’s legal according to the politicians in Canberra.”
“So, you’re saying it doesn’t have to be a legal wedding…”
“What do you think?” Leo asked.
Rhys leapt to his feet, grabbed Leo’s hand and shook it vigorously. “Thank you! Thank you! Now I just need to organise an illegal wedding.”
Craig chuckled. “They’re normally called commitment ceremonies. That’s what ours was called.”
Rhys raised an eyebrow at Craig before reaching over to shake his hand. “How long ago was that?”
“Eight years in March.”
“Well, congratulations, and thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”
Rhys took a step towards the door, ready to bound down the stairs and out of the building when he was brought swiftly back to earth.
“Now, about our bill…”
Rhys turned slowly, mentally preparing to become destitute. “How much do I owe you?”
“Leo, what do you think? This sort of thing isn’t in our normal service rates.”
“You’re right. Special rates apply, I think.”
Rhys cringed. “How much?”
“I think invitations to the ceremony and the reception afterwards should cover it,” Leo said, grinning broadly.
Rhys’s jaw dropped. “But…”
“We love this town, Rhys, and that includes The Tree. And as our present to the happy couple, whoever they are,” Craig said, raising his eyebrows questioningly, “we’ll also organise all the legal paper work that can be done for two guys who want to spend their lives together. It doesn’t give the same benefits as a legal marriage, but there are some things we can do.”
“So, who are they?” Leo asked.
Rhys shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say yet. We know who they are, but one of them is scared at everyone knowing he’s gay. I don’t think I can tell you.”
“That’s okay. Wait until you can — we understand,” Craig said.
“Thanks, Mr. Patterson, Mr. McKaylee. I really appreciate this.”
“You’re welcome, Rhys, and please, call us Craig and Leo.”
Rhys smiled. “Thanks, guys.”
Rhys was happy as he walked out of the building. There were still things to be done — finding Vince being the biggest one — but one issue looked to Rhys like it was settled.
* * *
Mark and Mia were driving down the main road into Dubbo. The radio was on but was turned down low.
“According to this map that Karen printed off, the on-site accommodation at the uni isn’t that large. Hopefully it won’t take us too long to find him,” Mia said, while peering at a couple of pieces of paper.
“I hope so. The campus might not be big, but it’s big enough to make it easy to miss someone. We’re going to need a bit of luck, I think. Why don’t we do a quick drive through and look for his car? If we don’t see it, we’ll try to track down someone who knows where he lives,” Mark said.
“Sounds good to me. Karen warned me that this uni map might be out of date, though. It seems that all the links on the Internet to the campus map were broken and she had to use the Internet archive to find an old copy. She said it’s probably because the map shows stuff to be built, and it’ll be built now, so they pulled the old map.”
Mark grunted.
After pulling into the university entrance, they followed the map and signs to the student accommodation. Mark slowed down to a crawl when they got there, glad that the summer break meant there wasn’t a lot of traffic.
Mia pointed. “There’s his car!”
Mark glanced in the indicated direction and then found a parking spot nearby.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said.
Once they were out of the car, they looked at the buildings arranged in a gentle arc. Small but neat gardens separated the units. Mark and Mia stared at the two closest to Matt’s car.
“Which one?” Mark asked.
“If it’s not the first, it’ll be the second, or someone will hopefully be able to tell us where he lives. Let’s try this one,” Mia said, pointing to one from which the muffled sounds of music could be heard. Without waiting for Mark’s response, she strode up to the building and knocked on the door.
Almost a minute later, the door opened to reveal a slender youth who had blond streaks through his light brown hair and was wearing bright orange board shorts and a sleeveless black T-shirt. He stood with one hand high on the edge of the door and the other on his hip, his weight resting on one leg while the other was gently bent. There was a faint sneer on his face as he glanced from Mia’s head to her feet and back again.
“Yes? Can I help you?” he asked with a somewhat girlish inflection.
“We’re looking for Matt Sterling,” Mia said.
“And what makes you think Mattie wants to see you?”
Mark stepped forward. “Look, we just want to see Matt. Does he live here, or can you tell us where he lives?”
The guy raised a finger to the side of his mouth, shifted his weight to his other hip, and smiled.
“Maybe. You still haven’t answered the question, though. Why do you think Matt wants to see you?”
“We’ve just driven here from Mourton to see him. The reasons are personal, okay? Can you help us?” Mia asked.
The guy smiled, showing a row of perfect, white teeth. “Mourton? Why didn’t you say so? I thought you were trying to sell him something.”
He straightened up and stepped back, gesturing an invitation. “Come on in. Matt’s not here, but he should be back soon.”
Mark and Mia entered. Mark, feeling uncomfortable, was careful to maintain what he thought was a safe distance between himself and the guy.
“Sit, sit! I’ll get you something to eat and drink. What would you like? From the descriptions Matt gave me, you must be Mia.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’ll just have a cup of tea, if that’s okay,” Mia said as she dropped onto a couch. Mark sat down next to her.
Mark’s glance around revealed a central room with several closed doors off either side. The sound of Bette Midler singing Wind Beneath My Wings drifted through the only open door. Mark could see a bed with a bright pastel doona cover, and guessed that the other doors led to bedrooms. There was an open-plan kitchen area opposite where they had entered.
“How do you have it?”
“Just black, if you don’t mind…” Mia said.
He chuckled and raised both hands momentarily to his chin. “Silly me. I didn’t introduce myself. Hi, I’m Shane,” he said, holding out a hand to Mia.
After shaking her hand, he turned to Mark and put his fists on his hips as he contemplated his other visitor.
“Let me see… Your head’s not hitting the roof, so you can’t be Bobby. You don’t have a ponytail, so you’re not Rhys. That means you’re either Mark or Vince, and I’m guessing you’re Mark. How did I do?”
“Uh… right?” Mark said, uncertain as to what to say or do.
“Hi, Mark. How are you? What would you like?” he said, smiling and holding a hand out to Mark.
Cautiously, Mark shook the hand. The grip was weak and the wrist was bent. Shane was using only his fingers to lightly hold Mark’s hand. Mark let go as quickly as he could. It wasn’t what he would call a handshake.
“Coffee, please. Black with one sugar,” he said.
“Let me guess,” Shane said, placing his right index finger to the side of his smile as he tilted his head. “You like it strong, too.”
“Yeah,” Mark said, glancing nervously at Mia.
Once Shane had retreated to the kitchen at the far end, Mark leant over to whisper to Mia.
“Is this guy for real? He’s everything that Matt’s not!”
“Don’t let him hear you. He said Matt’ll be back soon, so just kept your big mouth shut and don’t ruin things.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. You can do the talking, because I’m going to say as little as possible. I don’t want him getting any ideas.”
Mia smiled and reached over to squeeze Mark’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after you, you great lump. Did you notice that his fingernails are manicured?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “No, but I’m not surprised.”
Shane returned carrying two steaming mugs. Both were chipped around the edges. One bore a Gary Larsen cartoon of a burning building going over a waterfall, while the other was covered with fluffy bunnies.
“Here you are, Mark. Let me know if you want more sugar, or if it’s too strong. I can make you another one if I haven’t got it right,” Shane said, smiling down at Mark as he held out the bunny cup.
“No, I’m sure it’s all right,” Mark said, almost snatching the mug off Shane while avoiding eye contact.
Shane laughed softly before turning to Mia. “Here you are,” he said as he handed her the other mug. “I’ll be back in a jiffy. I’m just getting my own cup.”
Shane disappeared into the bedroom. The music cut off and the young man reappeared, carrying a cup similar to the one Mark was holding. He sat down on a chair opposite Mark and Mia, crossed his legs, and then leant forward. Shane held his cup delicately around the top edge, using only his thumb and first two fingers. Mark was glad there was a small coffee table between them, as he slowly edged as far back into the couch as he could.
“Is that Chanel you’re wearing, Mia? It smells like it, but I’m not sure,” Shane said.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, it is. I didn’t think it was that noticeable.”
“If it wasn’t my favourite perfume, I wouldn’t have noticed. I buy it for my mum every year for her birthday and Christmas. She just adores it.”
Shane turned to Mark. “What about you? What brand of after-shave do you use?”
Mark glanced nervously around the room. “Well…umm…I don’t normally use any.”
“What? Why ever not? I don’t think I could stand it if I didn’t use after-shave. Don’t you want to smell your best?”
Mark looked at Mia, pleading with his eyes to be rescued. She smiled at him before turning back to Shane.
“It’d be a bit of a waste for Mark. He works as a garbo, so there’s no point trying to make himself smell nice first thing in the morning.”
Shane shivered. “I’ve got nothing against garbos, but I don’t think I could stand working around all the smell and flies and things. It gives me goose bumps just thinking about it.”
A few minutes later, after Shane had interrogated Mia on what shampoo she used to give her hair its silky shine, Mark was relieved to hear the front door opening. He glanced over to see Matt entering, carrying a couple of bags of groceries.
“Matt!” he said, leaping to his feet.
“Mark! What are you doing here?” Matt asked, stopped in his tracks at the unexpected visitor. “Mia! Why didn’t you call?” he added when he spotted her. He put down the bags and stepped forward to shake Mark’s hand. Mark couldn’t help reflect that it was strong and firm, in a complete contrast to Shane’s.
Mia stood up and then glanced at Mark, indicating she wanted him to answer Matt’s question.
“We would’ve, but we didn’t have your number,” Mark said.
“I left it with Vince. I’m sure I told you that,” Matt said, picking up the groceries and heading to the kitchen. “Just give me a couple minutes to put this stuff away, and I’ll be right with you.”
“I’ll do that. You spend some time with your guests,” Shane said as he rose to his feet. He put his cup on the coffee table and then headed over to the kitchen. He whispered something to Matt, looked back at Mark, smiled, and then started putting things away.
“Did I forget to tell you that Vince had my number?” Matt asked, frowning, as he walked back to the other two. He waved at them to sit down again.
“Umm… can we talk in private?” Mark asked, flicking a glance in Shane’s direction.
Matt looked over to the kitchen where it was obvious that Shane was trying to listen to what was being said.
“Shane’s harmless, but if you don’t mind the mess, we can talk in my room.”
“Thanks, we’d appreciate that,” Mark said, relieved. He found Shane unnerving.
A few moments later, they were in Matt’s room. It was a combination bedroom and study, but obviously designed for single occupancy. A smart-looking stereo system was located next to a battered laptop on the desk, with an old deskjet printer on the floor nearby. There was a framed classical print hanging on one wall, with a Coldplay poster stuck with Blu Tack to the opposite wall. The only window was slightly ajar, allowing some noise from outside to filter through. Mia and Mark took the two chairs, while Matt sat on the bed and leaned back against the wall.
“So, what brings you to Dubbo?” Matt asked, grinning happily at the other two.
His smile slipped away when it wasn’t returned. By the time Mark answered, Matt’s forehead was wrinkled in concern.
“Have you heard from Vince recently? Like in the last twenty-four hours?” Mark asked.
“No, I haven’t. Why? What’s going on?”
Mia made a face. “We were hoping he’d be here. He’s gone missing.”
Matt sat upright. “Missing? When did this happen?”
“He disappeared yesterday, taking lots of camping gear. No one has seen or heard from him since,” Mia said. “We’re getting worried.”
Matt relaxed and smiled. “It sounds like he’s just gone somewhere to be alone for a while. He’s been under a lot of stress recently and probably just needs to get away for a bit. He’ll be back soon, I’m sure. When he is, can you ask him to give me a call? I’d like to say hello.”
Mark and Mia exchanged glances. Mia made an ushering gesture, indicating she wanted Mark to say something. He turned back to Matt.
“Well, the thing is, he left a note. He said he didn’t think he’d be coming back. He hasn’t answered any of the messages we’ve left on his phone, either,” Mark said, nervously running a hand through his hair.
Matt frowned. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
Mark took a deep breath and looked down at the floor.
“Can I ask you a personal question, Matt?”
“Sure,” Matt said, stretching out his uncertain response.
“Are you gay?”
There was silence. Mark looked up to see Matt frowning. He was no longer leaning back against the wall, but was sitting upright with his arms crossed.
“Yes, I am. Is that a problem?” Matt said. His voice was flat.
Mark glanced at Mia, hoping she would take the next step. She nodded once and turned to Matt.
“Did you know that Vince is gay, too?” she asked.
Matt appeared surprised, and then he frowned. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“No, no! That’s not it at all. We want you to help us find Vince. We’d been hoping he’d come here to you,” Mia said.
“Then why did you ask that? What relevance does it have?” Matt asked, glaring across the room.
“We were hoping you’d have some feelings for him. You two got along so well, we thought you could help. Vince ran when we found out he’s gay. He told us he couldn’t be gay in a small town,” Mia said.
Matt stood up and turned to look out the window. With his back to them, he started speaking. “It depends on the town, but he could be right. Some places are better than others. People know me at home, and they don’t mind, but Gary was beaten up and chased out of his place. He couldn’t go back.”
“Gary?” Mark asked.
Matt looked over his shoulder. “Gary Ross. The guy who died in your town a few weeks ago.”
“Oh.”
Mark was startled to learn that Gary Ross, the guy whose death had started the whole chain of events, had been gay. He wondered if that meant anything, and then shook his head. It wasn’t that important. What he needed to keep his attention on was Vince, and Matt appeared to be the key to that. As long as Matt was there for him, Mark was sure Vince would be okay. They just needed to get the two of them together.
“I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll help,” Matt said suddenly. He turned around, a grim expression on his face. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know what it’s like to be found out, so I’ll do what I can.”
Mia and Mark smiled. “Thanks, Matt,” Mia said as she rose to her feet. She stepped forward and kissed Matt on the cheek.
“Yeah, thanks, Matt. We’re really worried about him,” Mark said, holding out a hand.
“I am, too,” Matt said, shaking Mark’s hand. “How did you find out he’s gay, anyway? How did you work out that I’m gay, for that matter? I didn’t do anything while I was with you guys to make you think that, did I?”
Mia laughed. “No, you were a perfect gentleman. Too perfect, maybe. Rhys worked it out when you didn’t go for any of the girls in town, but did get along with Vince. He realised that because of that, you both must be gay.”
Matt looked at her strangely. “I didn’t tell Vince, and he never told me. I never suspected. Just because we got along, doesn’t mean we both have to be gay. I got along with Rhys, too.”
Mia bit her lip. She glanced at Mark, apprehensive.
“Does it really matter?” Mark asked, hoping to cut off the line of questioning.
“It does if it helps work out where Vince went. Are you saying that you worked out Vince and I are both gay, simply because we became good friends?” Matt asked, crossing his arms and staring at the other two.
Mia slumped back into the chair. “I think we need to tell you a bit more about what’s going on.”
Mark thought she sounded resigned. He crossed his fingers behind his back as Mia started telling the legend of The Heart of The Tree. Matt remained standing the whole time. He was interested and empathetic with the story behind Aunt Cynthia’s wedding, though Mark could tell he was puzzled about the relevance. When it came to Gary’s death, and then his role in the latest legend, Matt’s expression grew cold.
“So, I’m supposed to marry someone because of a bloody tree, is that it? I don’t get any say in the matter, and you want me to go meekly along with your little plans. Well, you can bloody well all go jump. Get out and don’t come back. I don’t want to see or hear from you or any of your conniving friends again. Now, get out!”
Matt stepped to the door and opened it, his fury expressing itself in a steadily increasing volume.
“But, Matt…” Mia started.
“OUT!”
“Please…”
“GET OUT, BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT!”
Mia started sobbing and ran into the main room, followed by Mark. She fumbled with the outside door before she got it open, and then ran for the car. There, she collapsed in a heap on the side of the road.
Mark bent down to put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.
“Have I messed it all up? I thought I should tell him, but now he’s not going to help. What was I supposed to do?”
“Shhh…” Mark whispered. “Just take it easy. We’ll work out what to do. Don’t worry about it, Mia. Matt was going to find out sooner or later, so you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Mark was concentrating on calming Mia and missed the first call.
“Pssst, you idiot. I can’t stay here long.”
Not letting go of Mia, Mark turned his head to see Shane crouched down nearby, fiddling with his shoelaces.
“I want to help. Meet me in the cafeteria as soon as you can. Just don’t let Matt see you following me,” Shane whispered.
After Mark had nodded, though he didn’t understand what was going on, Shane stood up. He straightened his clothes, gave Mark a wink, and sauntered off towards the main university buildings in the distance.
Mark turned his attention back to Mia, to find her staring after Shane.
“Do you think he can do anything?” she asked, sniffling back some tears.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Mark replied.
He gave Mia a hand up. When he saw she was still shaky, he put an arm across her shoulders and pulled her gently towards him. She looked up at him in surprise, to which he just smiled and tilted his head in the direction they had to go. She responded with a wan smile. Together, they strolled off.
Shane was waiting for them at a table by the side wall, directly across from the entrance. The place was only sparsely populated with students and staff. Shane beckoned as soon as he saw them.
As they approached, Shane started frowning at the back of first his right hand, then his left.
“That’s the last time I squat down in the garden outside Matt’s room. I’ve got dirt under most of my fingernails!”
“You were doing what?” Mark asked, exasperated by the irrelevancy of Shane’s comment.
“Well, how else was I going to learn what’s going on? You shut the door on me so I couldn’t listen.”
Mark started to move away. “I can see this is a waste of time. Come on, Mia, let’s go home.”
“No, no, please don’t go. I can help. No one knows Mattie better than I do,” Shane said, waving his hands frantically. “Sit, sit. Please?”
Mark took a look at Mia, who was still pale.
“Do you mind if we grab something to eat, since we’re here? We haven’t had anything since breakfast.”
Shane looked surprised and then blushed.
“I’m so sorry, Mark. I should’ve realised. Yes, go and get something. Matt shouldn’t be wandering in this direction, so we’ve got plenty of time.”
“Mia, you wait here. I’ll get you something,” Mark said, pushing her towards a seat.
“I can recommend the quiche — it’s always good. Go for the French dressing on the salad, though. The ranch is sometimes a bit too strong,” Shane said.
Mark moved away. A glance backwards showed that Shane had moved around next to Mia and was dabbing at her face with a handkerchief.
A few minutes later, Mark was carrying a tray of food back to the table: fish and chips for himself, and some chicken and salad for Mia. Shane had returned to his original seat on the opposite side to where Mia was sitting.
After putting Mia’s food in front of her, Mark settled himself into one of the chairs. He picked up a knife and fork and started eating, while staring across the table at Shane.
“You made a big mistake, telling Matt that story. He’s never liked being told what to do, and he’s as stubborn as an ox when he thinks people are pressuring him. At the moment, he’s busy working himself up into a lather about how you all tricked him, and he won’t have anything to do with you again,” Shane said, shaking his head.
“Are you saying there’s no chance?” Mia asked. She sounded despondent. Mark noticed she was only picking at her food.
“Normally, I’d say you’ve blown it. Matt was emotionally used by another guy when he started here at uni, and he’s paranoid on the subject, but he’s been talking non-stop about his trip since he got back. I’ve not seen him this enthusiastic since his first kiss,” Shane said, smiling. “And, while he’s talked about lots of people, he’s talked about this guy Vince more than anyone else.”
“So you think it’ll all be okay, then?” Mark asked.
Shane pursed his lips and tapped them with his right index finger. “Well, that’s hard to say…”
“Have I stuffed it up, or will Matt come and help?” Mia asked, almost pleaded.
“If he’s left to his own devices, he will probably just walk away. However, if someone, like moi, gently pushes him in the right direction, he’ll come around to the correct decision,” Shane said, grinning broadly.
“Thank you, thank you,” Mia said happily.
Shane’s smile disappeared in an instant. “I haven’t agreed to help, yet.”
Mark narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”
Shane looked away, in the direction of the distant Matt.
“Matt’s been my protector and best friend for almost ten years. For several of those years, he was my only friend. I don’t think I’ve ever been his best friend, but he’s been mine for a long time.”
He looked back at them. His eyes seemed to glow from the lights reflecting off the moisture.
“I’ve always been a girlie boy. Primary school was hell. When I started secondary, I expected more of the same. I tried to be more masculine, but that only resulted in them laughing at my attempts. I remember that after only being there for a week, three older boys decided to use ‘the poof’ as a punching bag. They’d just started when Matt showed up. My knight in shining armour stepped up and told them to leave me alone.”
Shane sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He gazed out over the largely empty room, but Mark sensed that he wasn’t seeing what was in front of him.
“All that resulted in was him getting thumped as well as me, but no one else had ever tried to step in and save me. He did it again the next time, too, and the time after that. Mattie didn’t stop all the abuse, but, simply by being there, he made some of the bullies give up. He’s been a true friend ever since. I still remember when we were both fifteen how he told me that there was no point trying to be something I’m not if it makes me unhappy, and he’s always stood up for me whenever anyone’s made a comment about how girlie I am. By the end of secondary school, all of the abuse had stopped, and a few of his other friends became my friends, too.”
Shane sighed and turned his attention back to the others.
“Things are better, here, and I don’t really need his protection, anymore. He never had a girlfriend through secondary, though I didn’t learn why until year 12. He’s not managed to find a real boyfriend here at uni, either. I want him to be happy, and the romantic in me wants the story you told him to be true. If you’re right, Matt’s about to find true love.”
Shane leant across the table and fixed Mia with a stern gaze.
“But I don’t want him hurt. He got mixed up with the wrong guy once before and ended up an emotional wreck. So, before I help you hook my Mattie up with your Vince, I want to know he’s going to be good for my boy.”
Shane set his elbows on the table, rested his chin in his hands, and stared across the table at Mia, with a wide-eyed expression.
“Start talking, Mia-mine. Tell me about Vince. Convince me he’s the one that’s going to make Matt happy. Do that, and I’ll do anything and everything I can to make sure they get reunited and live happily ever after.”
Copyright Notice — Copyright © October 2006 by Graeme.
The author copyrights this story and retains all rights. This work may not be duplicated in any form — physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise — without the author's expressed permission. All applicable copyright laws apply.
Disclaimer: All individuals depicted are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental.
I would like to express a special thank you to Andy and Wade, who have helped me with several key parts of this chapter. Kudos go to Aaron, also of The Mail Crew, for doing a brilliant job of editing. I can thoroughly recommend their website to all teenagers who are gay, lesbian, bi or not sure.