Rhythm
by
John Terry Moore
CHAPTER 5
It was nearly 11.30pm when Adam finally returned to the room. The party had been raging in the common room in Darcy and Lance’s block, a reasonable distance away, and it was easy to slip away unnoticed, even though he was part of the reason (or excuse) for it happening. Patrick’s mother had driven him to Melbourne and he looked forward to a good sleep, knowing Patrick would be home in the morning, and their training cycle for the next week would begin again. He fumbled with his keys, and cursed, dropping them. As he stooped to pick them up, his hair stood up! There was someone in their room! And it sounded very much like they were ----- crying. Slowly, he turned the key and pressed the light switch. There was his room-mate and friend, fully clothed, face down on the bed, sobbing his heart out. His overnight bag stood forlornly on the floor. “Pats,” he breathed. “Jesus, are you all right?” he shouted, the message finally connecting that Patrick was in some kind of trouble. “What’s wrong, what’s upset you, why are you crying?” he pleaded, all the while his brain racing in over-information mode. ‘Perhaps the race has upset him,’ he thought, ‘or his mother.’ Patrick turned over, apologising, his face tear streaked and his eyes red. “I’m really sorry, Adam,” he said. “I really am. I have no right to burden you with my troubles.”
“Listen you dick,” he replied, “you’re my best friend! Your troubles are my troubles!” Patrick dropped his head again, and Adam slid on to the bed with him, cuddling him, his arms around him, pulling him closer.
“I don’t know where to start” said Patrick, sniffing. “But the fact is that Garry and I are over; like as in ‘see ya later prick, I never want to set eyes on you ever again!’” Looking at Adam, he knew he owed him a full explanation. “Mum dropped me off at the flat, I walked in and there’s this other bloke with Garry.
”Oh it’s you,’ Garry said. “Meet my other half, Nelson.” He looked at Adam who was sitting there, open-mouthed. “I was so bloody shocked,” he said. “It turns out this sordid little affair has been going on behind my back for months!” Patrick almost spat he words out. “How can anyone be so devious? As I see it, there are several issues here. Firstly, to have an affair behind my back. Granted, men are men and a lot of them like to play around. I expect that; a quick fuck is exactly that, but to go back for a second helping is disloyal and unforgivable. Secondly, to let me find out in this way is cruel and I don’t think I deserve to be treated like that.”
“I’ll murder that prick,” muttered Adam darkly. “That is just so deliberate and cold. Like they were making fun of you. They must have terrible inferiority complexes to stoop to such behaviour. So what about the circle of friends up there, have any of those reacted as yet?”
“Well it gets worse,” replied Patrick. “Garry has been trotting this little Nelson around to quite a few soirees and dinner parties, telling everyone that he and I have split up quite amicably some months ago.”
“Yet he managed to clear the decks every weekend that you were there,” glared Adam, getting even more upset. “How dare that bastard do that to you Patrick, how infantile, how immature!”
“You want to hear the best part?” smiled Patrick bitterly. “You know the family weekend in Sydney? He took Nelson to that and introduced him as his new partner.”
“How do you know that?” asked Adam, about to burst a boiler.
“Oh little Nelson managed to slip that one in whilst Garry had gone out of the room. Said his mother always thought I wasn’t really suitable for Garry; I didn’t come from a terribly nice family, and that I would never be anything because I never seemed to have any money and never spent any on her precious fuckin’ Garry. Well we’re students, aren’t we?” he said pleadingly to Adam, who nodded his head. “And I still spent a lot more on Gary than he ever spent on me!” Patrick suddenly looked worn-out. “Adam, as it’s turned out, I’m obviously better off without him. Better to have found out what a prick he is before any major commitment. But it’s my pride that’s so hurt! To be the butt of all our so-called friends’ jokes and dinner conversations, and to find as well that I’m such a poor judge of character! I mean, we’re not kids anymore, we’re into our twenties and supposedly we’re starting to make responsible life decisions, rather than carrying on like high school kids at schoolies week.” He put head into his hands and started quietly sobbing again which galvanised Adam into action. He cradled his head against his shoulder and rocked him gently, trying to soothe away the hurt. “Pats,” he said. “You must believe there’s nothing wrong with you, and you shouldn’t allow yourself to be dragged down by second-rate nut cases like this who seem to get their jollies trying desperately to upstage decent, lovely and intelligent people like yourself. And whilst you probably feel like shit right at the moment, it will get better. I think that the greatest damage done to you is not your reputation, but your ability to trust anyone again, am I right?” Patrick nodded.
“Do you trust me?” Adam asked.
“Of course, but ----- you’re so different to anyone I’ve known, and we’re very close.”
Adam smiled. “Just so you don’t feel totally alone, I need to tell you I finished up with Gayle yesterday.”
“Oh Adam, here’s me carrying on about my problems and you’ve got enough of your own,” said Patrick, feeling totally dismayed.
“But there’s no problem there; it was completely amicable in the end. She understood that I felt absolutely nothing emotionally at all for her, and that I felt I couldn’t be dishonest with her. So therein lies the story of my love life; never had a fulfilling relationship with any female. Think I’ll become a monk, it’s safer!” “Think I’ll go to bed now,” said Patrick abruptly.
“Not without a shower and not without me,” commented Adam. “Move,” he said, and untied Patrick’s sneakers, pulled down his jeans and underpants, finally stripping his nice dress shirt over his head without any sexual connectivity at all. It was a best friend loving his friend. He led Patrick out the door, along the hall where they had walked a hundred times before and into the communal shower room. He soaped Patrick’s back, his genitals, his anus, and washed him clean as if he was washing away the hurt done to his friend. He cuddled him to him; his arms around him, as the warm water cascaded over their bodies and soothed both of them. Patrick allowed it to happen; he truly felt useless and worthless, yet Adam made him feel like there was some hope in the world; that someone loved him without alteration, with all his imperfections, bad luck and background. Adam dried him off like a baby; pulled a fresh pair of undies over his legs and pushed him into bed, climbing in behind him. Patrick awoke the next morning, having slept remarkably well, with a strong arm still around him, and thinking to himself how pleasant and loved he felt.
*****
At Adam’s insistence, they ran the hill the next morning, but after some negotiation between Adam and Michael, they jointly agreed to cancel the training session on the river. Instead, they drove to Melbourne in the old Ford, and were able to recover all of Patrick’s possessions from the flat. Fortunately, the incumbents were absent, so they were able to work quickly and load the wagon with Patrick’s clothes and a few meagre pieces of furniture. Patrick left a note on the kitchen bench with the key; itemising the goods he had taken. As he was about to close the door for the last time, Adam looked him in the eye and said quietly; “Any regrets?”
“No, none thanks to you Ads,” he replied. “Thank you so much for helping me close the loop so quickly and finalising a part of my life that obviously wasn’t meant to be.” He kissed Adam on the cheek. “You’re my best friend; I’ve never had anyone care about me like you do. Just give me a little while and I’ll be back to my old self, I promise.”