Rhythm
by
John Terry Moore
CHAPTER 21
Craig Williamson met with Praveen in a fashionable restaurant downtown, for a quiet drink and a light but pleasant lunch. Tim was being kept busy with Anam and Peter, visiting the sights of the beautiful Games’ city, trying to relax a little before the spring session of parliament back in Australia. The advertising and publicity campaign had ceased as the Games competition began, purely as a courtesy to Adam and Patrick. Australian consular officials in most countries were processing a growing number of residency applications which had become a by-product of that campaign. A campaign that had begun because some elements of the Australian media had, in the most irresponsible manner, misrepresented Adam and Patrick. And how the tables had turned! ‘Journalists’ shadowed them everywhere, begging for interviews; television and radio stations did the same.
Praveen and Craig had spent some hours with the boys the previous day, discussing the road ahead. There was no doubt Adam and Patrick were the hottest commercial property in the western world at the moment. They told Adam and Patrick that as a result of their sporting performance and their media profile, they would be wealthy people if they took advantage of it; that they may never have to work for a living. Just live off their media income. But the boys were adamant. They wanted their degrees, the farm and a family in that order! But they were intelligent enough to realise how their life together would be a misery if they were continually dodging media contingents. And they were not prepared to put that sort of pressure on their partnership or their family group.
It was Praveen who threw a blanket of protection around them and Craig who provided the expertise. The Parliamentary Public Affairs financial contribution cut-off was scheduled to finish in about ten days hence. Craig Williamson offered them an ongoing deal to manage the publicity and promotions he knew they would be offered. Praveen assured the boys it was great value.
“Boys,” said Craig, “all I ask is that you make any arrangements through myself. Just remember every time someone turns on a camera or a sound recorder of any type, that’s your precious time, and under our proposed agreement, we should have the right to negotiate that before it happens.”
Adam nodded his head in agreement. “We have some issues we’ve already talked about,” he said, reaching for Patrick’s hand. “Firstly, we do not want to be interviewed separately, only together! These people love to get couples disagreeing with each other in separate interviews, then putting them together afterward. We won’t be in that. Secondly, if we have to face the media, we reckon we owe Jenny Gregson the courtesy of the first interview back home on Australian soil, considering her support has been so unwavering.”
“And finally,” broke in Patrick, “we should discuss potential earnings.” When Craig gave them his estimate, and Praveen nodded, they sat, transfixed.
“I told you earlier you could retire on your media income,” Craig smiled broadly, “but you wouldn’t believe me! You guys could become an industry internationally; Benson/Church underwear, fashion accessories, all these things are marketable and completely possible. You could create your own franchise! With almost no outlay of your own!”
It was Praveen, once again, who kept everyone grounded.
“As you can possibly imagine, Tim and I have also been through a similar process to what you boys are about to embark on. We had choices; to stay with the family businesses or go into politics and serve the public. We of course chose public service, but in your case, I think you will choose the family business. Actually, that’s already happened, hasn’t it? Adam and Patrick smiled their agreement. “So if that is the case, there being no free lunches anywhere these days, could I suggest you use your initial income stream to buy your share of the farm?”
“Actually,” said Adam, “that would be brilliant, because it would also guarantee my parents’ retirement, and finally Uncle Will and Maurie could have their cash out as well. But our real problem is that we need to keep studying and get our degrees before we do any of this stuff, and there aren’t enough hours in the day.” “What about we bring it all to you?” Craig smiled. “Outside lecture times, early morning and evenings.”
“And no weekends, because of the farm, please?” Patrick pleaded.
“But extra time in the annual holidays, by negotiation,” smiled Adam. Praveen laughed at them. “What’s wrong, did I fuck up?” he asked.
“No darlings, you’re just so beautiful! One of you starts a sentence and the other one finishes it!”
*****
The Games were over. Quite a few athletes had already returned home, but the Australian contingent remained intact. There was an air of excitement as the preparation of the closing ceremony was put in place. For once, there was no surprise as to who would carry the Australian flag into the arena. It was Bill Donaldson, the AOC President who rang firstly to ask after Patrick’s health, some two days ago, and then proceeded to tell them they had rigged up a special harness!
“Special harness?” asked Patrick, thinking immediately that Bill had acquired a leather fetish!
“Yes,” said Bill. “So you two can carry the Australian flag between you and lead us all in the closing ceremony!”
“Oh,” replied Patrick. “I’ll put Adam on, and you can tell him ----- and thanks very much, Bill.”
There was a large assemblage area just adjacent to the Olympic Arena and the athletes of the world had gathered there, standing behind barricades as the final event, the marathon, swept past them into the arena. For most athletes, the closing ceremony was naturally a more enjoyable spectacle than the opening.
The nervous tension of the competition had been replaced by a relaxed excitement, where instead of focussing on their own performance, they were able to enjoy each other’s company. The vivid colours of the Latin American uniforms contrasted with the more sombre European dress code and the cacophony and variety of languages were a reminder of the truly international and global nature of the event. In the closing ceremony, it had become traditional for the flag bearers of each country to walk on first, and then the athletes, in no particular country order, trailing in together, in a mixture of nationalities and colour. But the flag bearers were chosen as an honour, rewarding their performance, and most, like Adam and Patrick, preferred to be with their mates, and walk in together in country order; (more or less, depending whether you were still a little pissed from the night before and you got mixed up in the wrong country) So, for these Games, the marshals were out in force again, urging everyone to line up with their flag bearers and walk into the arena.
The country groups started off in leisurely fashion, Adam and Patrick aware that for some reason they were organising them in alphabetical order, and this being a predominantly English speaking nation, they would be quite close to the front. Afghanistan, Albania, Algeria, American Samoa, Andorra, Angola, Antigua and Barbuda, Argentina, Armenia, and Aruba all moved off, and it was Australia’s turn. Adam and Patrick moved towards the tunnel which gave access to the arena. Suddenly there was a ruckus in front. The marshals were shouting at the leading countries, which for some reason had come to a halt. Instead they were lined up on the arena, just outside the tunnel and were applauding ----- them!
Adam and Patrick looked at each other and just uttered one word.
“Praveen!”
“And so ladies and gentlemen, we come to the closing ceremony of these, the thirty-second games of the Modern Olympiad. In a moment we shall see the first of the flag bearers of the nations in alphabetical order. Ah, there we are,” said the commentator, “the first flag bearers are in sight. There does seem to be some small delay, however, they appear to be lined up on either side of the entrance tunnel.”
The PA system was quickly switched off, and burst back into life a few seconds later. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” said the commentator in his best, pompous Olympic voice. “I believe the first ten nations have opted to form a guard of honour for the Australian team, led by their amazing double sculls gold medallists, Adam Church and Patrick Benson. What an honour for them and what an honour for Australia, with more gold medals per head of population than any other nation in the Modern Olympiad!”
Advance Australia Fair rang out and all those who could stand, did so and cheered Adam and Patrick as they walked into the arena, smiling broadly and just a little overwhelmed at the respect and attention they were receiving. The Honourable Timothy O’Brien, MHR, Member for Charlesworth, and Prime Minister of Australia looked at his partner and shook his head.
“You could have created an international incident,” he said in a stage whisper.
“I don’t know what you mean,” replied Praveen, the hint of a smile on his handsome face. “It was evidently the athlete’s idea, you know, we just helped facilitate it.”
“Actually, the Argentineans got the ball rolling, and everyone else agreed.” He smiled that beautiful smile of his, and Tim’s heart turned over. Anam and Peter edged closer and stood next to Praveen to ensure if there was a verbal fracas, then they were there to support him!
“And our children thought it was a great idea, too! What chance do I have with you lot,” he smiled grimly. “I sometimes wonder who really runs our country.” “Dad,” said Anam, sweetly, “I thought you knew the answer to that. Behind every great man like you, there’s an even greater one! And great kids, too!”
“Are you really angry with me?” Praveen said, his eyebrows arched. Then the three of them slid their arms around the Prime Minister and cuddled him.
‘Game, set and match,’ thought Chris Chen as he watched the Nayar-O’Brien family in action. ‘That’s why I love him so much,’ he thought. My best mate, a gay man, and he’s the most devoted family man I’ve ever met.’