Rhythm

by

John Terry Moore
 

CHAPTER 11

Michael Mitchell had been away on university business overseas so Adam and Patrick had begun their own preparation, following his instructions.  They were running the hill in the mornings and spending time in the boat almost every day, not yet pushing themselves because there was a long way to go.  A new Victorian rowing season, then the national titles, and if they defeated all comers in Australia and were consistent performers at the World Championships, then they could be chosen to represent Australia in the Olympic Games.  The speed boat, with Wesley, the assistant coach at the wheel, swung out from the ways as Adam and Patrick paddled upriver at about half-weight, and a low rating. 

Michael studied them closely.  Something had changed, and he couldn’t put his finger on it.  What was it?  He looked at them again; they were sculling in total harmony, their rhythm was simply perfect, something rarely achieved, and quite important for several reasons.  Their technical skills had always been good, but when any two crew members harmonised in such a fashion the principal benefit was conservation of energy, because there was no wasted motion.  And because of the smoothness and fluidity of their sculling, the little boat ran smoothly with nothing to check its progress. 

“What’s changed, Wes?” said Michael excitedly.  Wes shrugged his shoulders, unable to grasp the reason behind Michael’s curiosity.  “Wes,” said Michael with a tone of exasperation, “just look at them!  I’ve never seen them sculling like this before, and neither have you!  Think about it.  Whilst I was away overseas, is there any event that happened, anything at all which caused them to adopt this ----- amazing rhythm?” 

Suddenly Wesley’s normally serious expression changed into a delighted smile.  “Oh, of course,” he said.  “I’d quite forgotten, they became a couple about two months ago.” 

Michael’s face lit up in a beaming smile.  “You’re joking!  How wonderful!  So if that’s the case we’ve got some real incentive on our side!  Turn her around boys,” he said to Adam.  “We’ll have a 500 metre burst.  Let’s have a proper racing start, settle down quickly and get as much reach as possible with maximum power through the water.  Don’t worry about rating, the reach is all important.” 

The little boat powered away, and Michael watched them with an intensity and excitement that was difficult to hide.  He clicked the stopwatch at the completion of the 500 metre burst and smiled broadly at Wesley.  “Wes,” he said quietly.  “If we allow for the run in the river to help them and an incoming tide, which we have, I’d say they were rowing in pretty much dead water, same as an Olympic course, wouldn’t you agree?”  Wesley nodded his agreement.  “Well, with that time, if they could eventually be trained up to do four of those in a 2000 metre course they would create a new world record for that event.  Wes,” he said, “we’ve got a potential Australian championship here, and I’d say a berth at the Olympics is a real chance.”  He straightened his shoulders and seemed reinvigorated with the possibility.  “Take her in Adam,” he said.  “Let’s have a chat after you’re showered.” 

*****

They were sitting in Michael’s office with a view out over the river.  “Would you like a beer boys?” he said.  Patrick looked at Adam, who shrugged his shoulders.  “Thanks Michael,” replied Adam, “but only on special occasions.  And we tend to like a glass of wine rather than beer actually.” 

“Well this is a special occasion,” smiled Michael.  “This is my first opportunity to congratulate you.  I know training on alcohol sounds crazy but a cold beer after training will help your appetite.” 

“But congratulate us on what, Michael?” asked Patrick. 

“On becoming the world’s first couple racing in a double scull, that’s what,” Michael replied, bursting with excitement.  “Fellows,” he said.  “I must be frank with you.  Our relationship is too important for any of us to keep secrets from each other.  Besides, that relationship is based on trust and you guys are too intelligent and too smart to allow me to kid you along, not that I would ever want to,” he hastily added.  “One of the things I was worried about in your case was motivation.  You’re too nice to have the killer instinct!  But what you have now, which is even more powerful, is that when you win the Australian championship next March, also putting the international competition on notice, and when you go on to the Olympics, you will be doing it for same-sex couples around the world.  Just like young Matthew Mitcham, the gold medallist diver, back in 2008, you guys are not only doing it for yourselves as a wonderful young couple, but for all the same-sex couples around the world where same-sex partnerships are not only frowned upon but sometimes punishable by long gaol terms or even death.”  He paused for a moment to allow his message to sink in.  “I have always loved you two guys,” he said.  “You are such lovely human beings, and now you’re a family!  My wife Marian has a gorgeous brother, Neil, who is a proud gay man.  Only recently, as a fifty-year-old, he has finally settled down with his partner, James.  Both of them, in the past, felt constrained by society’s opinions when they grew up; hence it has taken them so long.  You guys are growing up in a totally different environment, thank heavens.  Not that homophobia doesn’t exist anymore, but it’s not popular to be a gay basher any longer.” 

“The ones that are homophobic have the most to hide, Michael,” Patrick said quietly.  “Nothing changes; they are so frightened of their own feelings, they attack same-sex attracted people to focus attention away from themselves.” 

“So what does a rowing coach have to do to get a hug from his star pupils?” smiled Michael.  Adam and Patrick sprang up and grabbed their coach and friend in a crushing hug, together with some moist eyes.  Their relationship with Michael had been uplifted to another level because of their partnership.  If Michael saw their potential as being enhanced by their partnership, then it was even better. 

*****

They left the boat sheds and were just beginning the walk home, when Patrick noticed something moving along the river bank quite close by.  “Look,” he said, “it’s a little dog.”  And so it was; a little Jack Russell terrier, in poor condition, looking for scraps of food; obviously hungry and with no home to go to.  He wagged his little tail like a helicopter and made his way straight to Patrick, who picked him up and nursed him, appalled that anyone could neglect a little creature so much. 

“Jesus Adam, what’s wrong with bloody people?  This little one needs a feed or he’ll die!  Oh look,” he said, “his owner’s number is on his collar, and his name ----- ‘Jack’.  Let’s give them a ring and let them know we’ve found their dog.”  Adam fished his phone out of his pocket and dialled the number and got a ‘this service is disconnected’ response. 

After a visit to the supermarket for dog food and a call to the RSPCA, it became increasingly obvious the family had left town.  The following day, Adam was able to trace the residential address from the telephone number and visited the new owners of the house.  They confirmed Jack had been left at the house when they arrived; they had taken him to the RSPCA, but he had escaped during the handover!  Fortunately, in some rubbish left behind, Jack’s registration papers and breeder’s transfer documents had turned up and Adam and Patrick, with the assistance of the breeders became the official owners of a two-year-old pedigreed Jack Russell Terrier.  Except the university had a strictly  ‘No Pets’ policy.  Jack was quiet enough at night, in his little box near their bed, but during the day he became anxious, being shut up in a room all day was just too restrictive for a little dog with limitless energy. 

At last, to avoid censure, Adam confided in Gerry Hansen, their RESLO. 

As usual, Gerry was a gem.  It had been Gerry who had re-organised their room with a double bed when they became a couple, (with the blessing of the Dean).

Gerry asked them to continue keeping Jack out of sight; obviously if nothing transpired, Jack would become the star boarder down at the farm, and that was something they wanted to avoid, because he had somehow completed their little family. 

Gerry rang about a week later.  “Adam, you’re a farmer, right?” 

“Yeess,” said Adam, drawing out his response because he wasn’t sure where this was going. 

“Well, you’d be good at building fences and all that physical stuff?” 

“Yes of course.” 

“Well if the university buys the materials, can you help Wayne build a fence so your dog can’t escape?” 

“Well, certainly,” responded Adam, “but where?” 

“Meet you both out the front in five minutes, OK?” 

Gerry, Wayne and Bronwyn were all waiting outside as Adam and Patrick ran downstairs with Jack on a choker chain and leash.  They began walking toward the boat sheds.  Adam and Patrick looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders, none the wiser for their destination, until they arrived at the sheds and Wayne walked to a door they hadn’t noticed before, and unlocked it. 

“This,” announced Gerry quite dramatically, as they walked inside, “was originally the caretaker’s flat for the boat sheds.  We had a staff rationalisation here after the old bloke retired and this has lain idle since.  It needs a well-built; paling fence with a dog kennel in one corner, Adam, and the place is yours.” 

“You’ve done it again, Gerry,” said Patrick in wonderment.  “We owe you one, but I hope we can afford it.” 

“A message from the Dean, and I quote, ‘tell them to win the national double sculls title and I’ll pay them to live there!’”  They roared with laughter, the Dean was fond of making her point in ways that no one could possibly misconstrue what she meant! 

Two weeks later, fence built, interior repainted with help from the Eight and other volunteers, they moved in.  The creature that had caused all of this kerfuffle ran crazily up and down the stairs, exploring his new home and understanding far more about everything than the humans around him realised.  The first night, after the boys had celebrated their new home in their own way, and had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, he left his box on the floor and curled up on the foot of their bed.  Early the next morning, Jack had his exercise as he ran the hill with the boys, yapping with excitement, looking forward to his day job, guarding the boat sheds.