Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Jason and Jordan's tale - 1
"Your boyfriend's dead."
"What?" Jordan looked up at his brother standing in the doorway.
"Your boyfriend's dead. On the way home from your going-away party, he missed the turn at the corner of Shield and Blackett Streets, shot off the road into the park and smashed his head open on a tree. Wasn't even wearing a crash helmet apparently. They think he might have been drunk. Was he pissed?"
"Sean, I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't got a boyfriend."
"No. Not now you haven't. He's dead. Guess he couldn't live without you, eh?"
"Sean!" Jordan rose up from among the boxes on the floor and glowered at the boy in the doorway. "I still don't know what you're on about. If you don't start making sense, I'm going to pound you."
"Just try it!" Sean stood and glared back at him. At thirteen, he was roughly the same height as his brother, but Jordan was eighteen months older and still heavier and more developed.
"Who's dead?" Jordan demanded.
"Phillip White. You know, your mate with the flash new motor-bike. He's dead. Mum just rang Aunt Karen with our new phone number and she told her.
"Phillip White's dead?" Stunned, Jordan sank down and sat on his unmade bed. He looked up again at his annoying little brother.
"This had better not be some sort of sick joke, Sean Taylor. Pip's not my boyfriend. He was just a friend."
"Wasn't he? He was a boy and he was your friend. Well, I suppose you'd know. He is dead though, I wasn't joking about that. Ask Mum if you don't believe me."
"You're sick, you know that? I will ask Mum, right now, and if you're shitting me - you're the one they'll be burying."
"Hah! You wish."
"Yeah. Actually, sometimes I do. Get out of my way, you annoying little sod." Jordan pushed past him and headed for the kitchen. Sean trailed along behind.
"I'm not so little. I'm just as tall as you are."
"You're still bloody annoying though."
Jordan burst into the big old kitchen where their mother sat surrounded by dozens of boxes, in the midst of their moving-day chaos.
"Mum, what's this little shit on about? Has something happened to Pip?"
"Don't talk to your brother like that," Mrs. Taylor sighed automatically. "There's been an accident. Your friend was killed the night before last."
"Pip! NO!" Stunned again, Jordan sat down and stared at his feet.
"Are you all right, Jordie?" His concerned mother lifted his head to look into his eyes.
"I'm all right. Of course I'm all right. I'm not dead, I'm alive. And, Pip's dead!" he sobbed.
"Why Mum? Why Pip? He was just a kid, a nice kid. I was at his fifteenth birthday a couple of weeks ago. He was just a boy. His life was just beginning and - now it's over. It's all o-o-over."
The cool teenage facade crumbled as Jordan bent forward crying, his hands covering his face, and he showed that he was just a boy as well. A hurting, grieving boy.
"Oh, Sweetheart. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." His mother put her arms around her boy and stood holding him as her bigger-than-her teenage son sat and cried into her bosom as he hadn't done for many years.
"See?" Sean gloated. "I knew it. I knew he was your boyfriend. Why else would you be sitting there crying like a big girl?"
"Fuck off, Dickwad. Fuck off or I WILL pound you."
"Jordan, you know I don't like you talking to your brother like that. However, in this case, he deserves it. Fuck off Sean."
"Whaaat?" Sean was shocked. He couldn't believe that his mother would speak to him like that. June Taylor hardly ever swore, especially not the "F" word, she never said the "F" word.
"What did you just say to me?"
"You heard me. Can't you see that your brother's upset? If you're not going to help, you can go and sit in your room. You go and think about how you'd feel if you just lost a close friend."
"I did. I've lost all my friends, everyone I've ever known, and it's all your fault, yours and Dad's. You took away from our home and you dragged us here, to this dump in the middle of nowhere. I didn't want to come here and now I've got no friends and it's all your fault. It's not fair!"
Angry and upset now as well, Sean fled back to the bedroom that he was going to have to share with Jordan, and he slammed the door.
"And, I'll see to him in a minute," Mrs. Taylor sighed wearily. "Jordie, Honey? Jordan are you going to be all right?"
"Yes, Mum. I'll be fine. I think I need a few minutes alone, I need to think."
"Yes, well. You always were the thinker of the family. You can't go to your room, Sean's in there. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll drag him out here."
"No, it's okay. I'm going for a walk. You go deal with Sean. I'll be back later."
"Okay then. As long as you're sure. Where are you going, Jordan?"
"Just for a walk. I might go and sit down by the water, where the boats are."
"Right then. Don't be too long or I'll start to worry."
"No worries, Mum."
He headed out the front, through the shop. His dad was there, but he was busy with a couple of customers. Jordan just nodded to him and kept going, out the front door and onto the sidewalk and the main street of Westpoint.
He looked down the long, straight, street which faded into the distance, and then he turned the other way, crossed the side street and walked up on to the embankment which skirted around the edge of the lagoon where the line of fishing boats were moored at their wharves.
Past the end of the wharves, the big, squarish, rocks made a rough staircase down to the water in the lagoon. Jordan gingerly made his way down there, stepping carefully on the mud and slime covered rocks at the bottom. He squatted down by the water's edge, sitting on his heels.
It was nice there. Sort of peaceful. He'd always liked being around water and found it had a calming effect on him, even when it was moving. Not the beaches though - the wild West Coast beaches were too rough to calm anyone.
Here, about 1 or 2k's back from the river mouth, the water wasn't wild at all. It was calm and flat, just occasionally heaving gently as the last memories of ocean waves made their way across the lagoon.
Jordan's hometown was far inland and the small river there wasn't like this. He was used to clean, clear water rushing busily past. The water here was decidedly murky, green and sluggish, but it was a clear, windless day and the surface of the lagoon sparkled in the sunshine.
They'd held his going-away party, back home, down by the river, with a bonfire, barbeques and music lighting up the night, and Pip had died on the way home. Damn!
"Oh Phillip. Poor little Pip."
For some reason, the picture that came to mind was not of the short, stocky, teenager that he was, but rather Jordan remembered him from years ago when he was a tiny wee boy, half the size of his friends, and constantly calling, "Wait for me," as he struggled to keep up with the bigger boys.
He smiled as he sat there remembering. He smiled fondly and tears rolled down his cheeks. He just felt SO sad. Did he love him? Yes, of course he did. He loved him as a friend. What a shame that he never told him that. Now he never would.
"Sorry, Pip. I'm not going to do that again. From now on, if I love someone, I'm going to tell them so."
As he sat there quietly thinking, he realised that Sean was right in a way. They had no friends now, not around here anyway. Today was their first day in a new home in a new town where they knew nobody and nobody knew them. They had no friends - here. Their friends were all back there, at home, and the way kids grew and changed, in no time at all, when they met them again, they would just be strangers. Strangers with a few, fading, shared memories of their younger years. All except Pip. Damn. Pip would never get to grow up. Pip was dead.
When the sobbing stopped again, Jordan decided that, well, he'd just have to make some new friends then. He would, it shouldn't be too hard. Everybody wanted to know the new kid in town didn't they? Yeah, sure they would.
Their parents were having what his Aunt Karen laughingly called their mid-life crisis. They'd both had high-paying jobs and high-flying careers in the city, but they had decided that they were tired. They were tired of the stress, of the commuting and of the whole lifestyle, and they had thrown their jobs, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor resigned, sold up everything and they had bought a small business, a 7 day corner store with takeaways attached, and they had brought their boys back here to live in the small town where they both grew up.
Westpoint was his parents' hometown, but it wasn't his. Well, not until now. Now it was, he supposed. They'd just have to make the best of it. A new beginning, life goes on. For some - "Oh,Pip."
So. What did he have for this new beginning? He had a new home. He had a family, his parents and his brothers. 'That's more than some people have got.'
Did he love his parents, his mum and dad? Yes he did. They were cool. Best parents he'd ever had. (joke) He was going to tell them that too. Jordan couldn't remember the last time he'd told his parents that he loved them. It was about time he did.
What about his brothers then? Sean was an annoying little shit and he never missed a chance to have a dig at him. But, he was his brother. Their mother loved him and, yeah, if Sean died, Jordan would miss him. He loved him, in a way. He did.
Michael on the other hand - their older brother was a creep. He was a jerk and a bully. Jordan decided that he did not love Michael, he didn't even like him. If Michael died, he'd piss on his grave. He would go to his funeral, but only to make sure that they buried him deep and packed the earth down so that he stayed there.
The funeral! "Oh, damn." He should be at Pip's funeral, to show respect, to say goodbye and to support his parents in this horrible time. He should go. He wanted to. He had to go to his friend's farewell.
With tears still streaming down his face, he jumped up and ran back home, through the shop and back into the kitchen. Mrs.Taylor was still in amongst her boxes.
"Mum, I have to go back. I've got to go to Pip's funeral. Did Aunt Karen say when it will be?"
"Whoa Jordie, slow down. I don't know when, she didn't say. We can't all go back, we've only just got here and I'm still unpacking. You can go back on your own, if there's enough time. It has been two days already, you may not have time to get there. Why don't you go and phone his parents and find out?"
"Can I? Should I? I mean, they'll be busy, won't they?"
"Jordan, go and ring Mrs. White. It's the only way you're going to find out."
So, he did, and it was too late. Pip's father thanked him for ringing and everything, but the funeral was arranged for 11 o'clock the following morning and he'd never get there in time even if he drove himself, which he didn't.
"Oh. Okay then, it's too late. Thanks Mr. White and I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Pip and I'm sorry that I can't be there for him. I loved him you know, not in a gay way or anything, but I did love Pip, as a friend. I wish that I'd told him that."
"I'm sure that you told him that in a hundred different ways. Thanks for ringing, Jordan. I'm pleased that Phillip had you for a friend, good friends are hard to find."
That was enough to start him crying all over again after he'd hung up. He went back out through the kitchen, stopping only to tell his mother that he couldn't go - it was too late to get there, and that he was going out again. This time he didn't hesitate, out the front door and straight over to the water again.
Back down at the water's edge, nothing had changed except maybe the tide had come in a little. He was going to have to get used to tides and stuff. There were also a couple of canoes out on the water now. He sat there, hugging his knees and feeling a bit down and sorry for himself.
What Mr. White had said had really upset him. He wasn't that good a friend to Pip. If Jordan was the best he had, then Pip didn't have very much at all. That was going to change too.
Jordan resolved that from now on, he was going to do better. He was going to be open and honest and he was going to be the very best that he could. Always.
He zoned out for a while, just watching the canoes out on the lagoon. They made a great picture, shining and laughing in the sunshine. After a few minutes, he realised that he wasn't even looking at the one with the two teenage girls, he was only focused on the one with a young boy in it.
That was nothing new; Jordan's eyes always went to the boys not the girls. He liked boys. Girls were okay, as friends, but that's all they were. Jordan preferred to be with boys. He'd never done anything, never had any sort of sexual experience, but he was gay. He had no doubt about it. That was who he was - 100% gay. "Bent as a dog's hind leg."
That was his biggest secret, that he was gay. He'd never told Pip that either, he'd never told anyone. That was stupid really. Being gay wasn't anything he'd done, it was just who he was. If he was to die today, say he was run over on the way home, (not likely, but it could happen.), no-one would ever know that he was gay. No-one would know who he was.
"That's going to change too," he said aloud. "It's not my fault, it's just who I am. They think they know me, but they don't. Not yet."
He took one last look at the boy out on the water. He really did look great. Blond hair, blue shirt and golden-tanned arms. He looked beautiful, but then, most people did at a distance. It was only when you got up close to them that you could see their faults, and everybody had them, some more than others.
He got up and went home - back to the shop at number one, Main Street, Westpoint - and didn't that have to be the coolest address in town? There were no customers in for once, and that was a good thing. That meant that he'd get to talk to both of his parents at the same time. This was going to be hard to do once, let alone twice.
"Hello Jordie," his mother said when he walked in. "The jug's just boiled if you want a drink. Are you feeling better now?"
"No. Not really. This is not something you get over in five minutes. However - “he sat down at the opposite end of the table to his parents. “I've made a decision. I've got something to tell you. Mum, Dad, I am gay."
The three of them sat around the table looking at each other. Why did he feel like an axe was about to drop on him?
"Well? Aren't you going to say something?"
"Are you sure that you know what you're talking about, Jordan?" His father asked.
"Yes. Of course I'm sure. I've always suspected it and lately I've been doing some searching on the internet. I'm gay, and don't tell me it's my fault because it's not. It's either enviromental or it's genetic. Either way it's your fault, not mine."
"Jordie," his mother sighed. ""No-one's saying that it's anyone's fault here."
"Well you don't look very happy and joyous to me," Mr. Taylor said.
"It's not a joke, Dad. And it's not that sort of gay. I'm queer - homosexual."
"And you're sure about that?"
"Yes, 100% sure."
"Right then. What brought this on all of a sudden? Were you in love with Phillip?"
"No I wasn't. I wasn't in love with anyone, I never have been."
"Never? So what makes you think that you're gay then?"
"I don't think, I know. It's just who I am. I was thinking, if it was me that died, like Pip did, then no-one would ever know who I was. Well, now you do. I'm Jordan Taylor, I'm fifteen and a half, I'm your son and I'm gay. And, I love you guys. I want you to know that too, I love you."
"Wow," said his mother. "You have been doing some thinking haven't you? It's okay, Jordie. If you're sure, then that's who you are. We love you too son."
"Yes, we do," Mr. Taylor agreed. "We do love you, Son, but you're not going to start wearing make-up and pink frilly clothes and stuff are you?"
"No Dad, I'm not. That's not me. Nothing's changed except now you know who I am on the inside and when I come home with a partner, if I ever do, it will be a boy, not a girl. That's all."
"That's all? That's a pretty big difference, but, whatever makes you happy, Jordan. We will accept whoever you choose. Of course we will."
"Great! Thanks Dad, thanks Mum. I'm pleased that that's out of the way, and I do love you, even more now."
He went over to his mother and hugged her. She hugged him back, kissed his cheek and whispered, "You're still my little boy. You'll always be my little boy, Jordie."
"Thanks Mum." He looked at his father, a question in his eyes.
Bill Taylor sighed and he stood up. "Oh all right. Just this once. Come here, Jordan."
He flew into his arms and hugged his dad fiercely. Then he left them alone and went out to the garden in the back yard. He couldn't believe how well that had gone. There were so many horror stories about kids coming out to their families. Jordan was grateful that he had such great parents. Now, if only he could trade his brothers in, one of them anyway.
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