Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Entangled Tales - 28 - Justin & Billy
At lunchtime Justin went across the road to the Carver's house. He went up and knocked at the back door. The door was immediately flung open and Butch's red and bearded face appeared.
"Don't!" he said.
Justin stepped back, "I'm sorry?"
Butch grinned his broken-toothed smile, "Don't you come around here knocking on our door, Justin Reynolds."
"What are you saying, Butch?"
"I'm saying, when you want to come in here, you just walk right in, like I do, like all our family do, okay?"
"Umm, okay. I think."
"You're family, Boy - as good as. You don't have to knock on the door. Walk right in and feel at home."
"Thanks Butch. I appreciate that."
"You've got no idea of how much we appreciate you, Superboy. C'mon, get in here!"
He stepped inside and flashed a grin at the woman sitting by the table. There were people all around the two rooms, scrubbing walls, ceilings and floors. "Hey, Ma. How are you today?"
"Hello Justin. How am I? I don't know. Sad of course. Sad, but also happy, proud, amazed, stunned. Thank you, Justin. The words are not enough, but that's all there is to say. Thank you. I'll never forget what you did for my boy. For all of us."
"Thanks Ma. Nothing makes any difference to Jeremy, but if we helped anyone else, then it was worth it. I was proud to be involved."
"It helped more than you'll ever know, Boy. It must have been very hard for you standing up and singing that beautiful song."
"The truth? It was BLOODY hard - the hardest thing I've ever done, but it was worth it."
"It was worth everything. Pure gold - and so are you, worth your weight in gold. You are a beautiful person, Justin. You're a prince - everything that a prince should be."
"Oh, no. Don't. Please don't, Ma. Look - I....umm. Could we talk in private for a minute please?"
"In private? Yes, of course." (Looking around the room) "Come on, you lot clear out. Go away and shut the doors."
All the others in the crowded room stopped what they were doing and left, closing the doors behind them.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb everyone."
"Don't be sorry. This is my house - I sit here and everyone moves around me. So what did you want to say to me alone?"
"Ma, I feel like I am worming my way in here - into your family - under false pretences. Everyone looks at me like I'm a big hero, some kind of superstar or something, but I'm not. I really am not, and I want you to know that."
"Don't talk nonsense to me boy! I know what I see, and you are a superstar and a hero and everything else."
"Ma, I'm not. That's not who I am. Look, I am gay - queer, and I am trash, white trash. I was raised in dives, flophouses - places that make this place look like a palace. And I was a slut - a whore. Any man with money in his pocket could buy my arse, and they did - hundreds of them. I am used-goods, rubbish, garbage, that's who I am."
She took a tissue from the box beside her, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "It sounds like you've been to hell and back, Justin."
"I lived there, Ma. I lived in hell for years and years."
"For years? How old are you anyway?"
"I'm fifteen. I think. Yes, I am fifteen, Jonathan said so."
"Jonathan said so. So you didn't actually know how old you were?"
"No. Birthdays never happened in my world. Growing up's not a good thing for a boy-whore."
"Birthdays never happened? I'm sorry, I keep repeating your words. So how old were you when you started having sex?"
"Four, I think. It was before I started school anyway. My mother's boyfriend used me."
"Your mother's boyfriend used you? Four years old? The bastard should have his dick chopped off. Do you know where he is now? It could be arranged."
"No. No, Ma, I don't know where he is, and it wouldn't change anything anyway. He was just the first. Just one of hundreds."
"Where was your mother when all this was going on?"
"She was there, arranging the porno videos, pimping, selling my arse."
"The Bitch! Dirty, fucking little Bitch! If she ever shows her face in this town again, she'll answer to me and mine! Justin....."
The back door quickly slid open and Billy bounced in. He dropped two supermarket bags on the table between them. "Hey, Justin." he beamed. "Sorry I was held up."
"Hey, Billy," Justin smiled sadly.
Ma slapped the table. "Dammit Billy! We're talking here. Go away. Go and sit up the front, and shut that door."
Billy left and closed the door. Justin stood up. "Sorry, Ma. I should go."
"No you should not. Sit down Justin, we haven't finished here." He sat down and she continued. "You're living in Westpoint now, and you were very ill when you arrived here. How old were you when all this sex business stopped?"
"I think I was about 12 or 13. I was just starting to learn how to defend myself - to fight. I was going to fight my way out of it, but then I got sick and it all stopped anyway."
"So, it was from when you were about 4 until about 12. You were a little boy, Justin. Just a poor little boy. You are not responsible for what adults did to you. Is this why you think you are gay? Because of what they did to you?"
"No Ma'am. You don't make someone gay. People are either gay or they're not, they're born that way. I am gay, and that is why they could do it."
"NO Justin!" she yelled, banging the table again. "Fuckit Justin! You were a little boy and no-one had any right...."
The lounge door opened. "Is everything all right in here, Ma?"
"Everything's fine, Stretch. We're just talking. Go away. Shut the door." Stretch looked at Justin, then closed the door.
"Have you got Aids? Gonorrhea, anything like that?"
"No, nothing like that. Somehow I was lucky. I'm clean, physically anyway."
"Well I'm telling you now, Justin. Listen to me. You're clean physically and you are clean on the inside too. Sparkling clean. Those bastards may have hurt you, horribly, but they haven't affected who you are. You are a beautiful person Justin, and you are a star. You're not 'worming your way into our family' - we are proud and delighted to know you. I think you're about the most decent person I've ever met."
"I'm still gay though. Queer."
"Well, so what? Don't apologise for how you were born. You may as well apologise for having blue eyes. Or for being a hero."
"Thank you, Ma. Well, now you know something of who I am."
"I know who you are, boy. I know who you are, and I love you. Hear that? If I was 40 years younger, you wouldn't have a chance, gay or not. Come and give me a hug, then you can let those goons back in here. No. Wait, there's something I want to tell you first."
He sat down again. "Tell me what, Ma?"
"Justin, you're a twin, right? Twins are unusual, but they're not that rare really - there's plenty of them around. Cecily, Billy's mum, has got two sets of twins. Wayne and Dianne and Ross and Robert. My husband was a twin too, an identical twin like you are. Jakie, my husband, has been dead for a few years now, but we don't even know where his twin is. He could be dead, he could be alive, he could be anywhere. His father threw him out. When they were boys, about 16, Jakie found his brother having sex with another boy. He was so shocked he ran and told their father.
Old Harvey Carver, there was a really hard man. He was so disgusted at finding out his son was gay, he beat him up and threw him out. Told him that if he ever came back, he'd kill him. And he never did. He left with just the clothes he was wearing and they never heard from him again."
"That's horrible, Ma. Awful."
"Yes. I can see that you'd think that. You've just been reunited with the twin that you didn't know you had. Imagine how it would feel to grow up with a twin brother and then lose him and never see him again. And know that it was all your fault. Jakie never got over it. He wasn't gay, but he loved his brother. Loved him and lost him. Even after we were married he still cried sometimes for his lost brother.
We named our first son after Jakie's twin. He's dead now too, but before he died he named his boy, our grandson, after the long-lost uncle as well. He named him Jeremy. That is where Jeremy's name came from - from his grandfather's brother, his lost and loved twin brother, Jeremy. So don't you ever come around here thinking that we're going to reject you because you're gay. That's not going to happen."
"Thanks Ma. That's really sad, but thank you for telling me."
"Okay. You can let the goons in now."
He opened the doors and they all came back. When asked what they'd been talking about, Ma told them to mind their own business. Justin refused anything to eat, but Billy made him a cup of tea - in the good cup, and he poured one for himself.
"Thanks Billy. But surely, I could just have an old cup now couldn't I?"
"No you couldn't. That's your cup from now on. Only the best for you."
"I don't need anything special."
"Course you do. Shut up."
"Okay, thanks. When did you start drinking tea?"
"When the beer ran out. No, actually, if you can drink tea, then so can I."
They grinned at each other across the table. Justin wished that he could read what he was thinking. Ma watched them closely.
Justin went back to school after lunch. After school he went home with Jonathan and they worked a couple of hours, cleaning. In the evening, Jonathan was going to see a girl, Claudette Storer, so he dropped Justin off at Claire's for a few hours.
Thursday at school, he saw Billy in the distance a few times but he never got to talk to him. Billy was a year behind him in school and the different classes didn't mix much. Segregated by age.
But they met at lunchtime when they both went over to the Carver's. Butch had a barbecue going in the back yard as it was a nice day, and Ma wouldn't let them in the house - she was having the carpets cleaned.
After school Billy waved out to him from the bus as it was leaving. He didn't see him again until lunchtime the next day. Justin was sitting out on the edge on the sports field, eating lunch with his friends, when Billy came up and sat down next to him.
"Hey Justin," he beamed. "You're not coming over to Ma's today?"
"Billy! Hey. No, I'm…Umm...I'm staying here today. They'll be getting sick of the sight of me. I don't want to wear out my welcome there."
"Like that's ever going to happen. You do talk some nonsense, Superboy. They love you over there. I guess I'll stay here too then if you are."
"Great. Have a sandwich."
"No, I'm not eating your lunch. I'm cool."
"Come on, have some sandwiches, Connors always gives us too much, thinks she's feeding horses or something. Eat - I'm only going to throw them away."
"Okay. In that case. Thanks."
"Good. You know my friends? This is Claire, Carl, Lucas, Shelley and Dee. Guys, this is Billy Mathieson. Jeremy's cousin and my friend."
"Hey." "Cool." "Gidday Billy." "Any friend of Justin's."
"Hey, Guys." He lay back and relaxed. "So, this is how life is at the top."
"There is no top, Billy. There's just life."
He rolled over on to his stomach, and grinned at him. "I'm just a year 10, remember. Besides, the top is wherever you are, Superboy."
Justin blushed and hung his head. Claire laughed and punched his shoulder. "C'mon Sweetcheeks, he's right you know. Good one, Billy. Pleased to see that you know which way's up."
Eventually, the others all wandered off and left the two of them sitting there, together, alone. Justin hardly noticed that they'd gone.
"So, Sweetcheeks is it?" Billy grinned. "What's with that?"
"Oh, I don't know. It's just Claire's silly name for me. I think it means she likes me really."
"Course it does. Everyone likes you, Justin."
"No, not everyone. Not by a long shot. I seem to be riding pretty high at the moment, but it won't last forever. One day I'll wake up at the bottom again."
"I don't think so, Sweetcheeks. You'll always be the top around here."
"Yeah, yeah. We'll see. Don't call me Sweetcheeks, it's embarrassing. It's bad enough when Claire does it."
"Yeah, yeah. It means I like you really, Sweetcheeks. Besides, you've got to have a name. Everyone has a nick-name around here - it's the local culture."
"Well what's yours then? What do they call you?"
Billy lay back, hands behind his head, looking up at the sky. "Oh, I dunno. 'Carver', ‘Rubbish’, 'Trash' something like that."
Justin smiled down at him. "Well, I think that I'll call you Sweetcheeks."
Billy laughed and sat up. "You'd better fucking not, Sweetcheeks!"
"I can if I want to, Sweetcheeks."
"Cut it out, Sweetcheeks."
"Make me, Sweetcheeks."
They sat grinning happily at each other, then both at the same time, called, "Truce!"
"Truce."
"Kay, Sweetcheeks."
"Stop it, Billy."
"Okay. Okay. Truce. What are you doing tomorrow?"
"I don't know. Nothing much. Are you going to be in town?"
"No, I can't. Mum says I've got to stay at home as I've been spending too much time at Ma's lately."
"You're not going to wear out your welcome there."
"No, 'course not. No more than you would. Anyway, I've got to stay out at home."
"Oh. Oh well."
"Tell you what - why don't you come out? Yeah, come out and see where we live. I'll show you around the old homestead. Come and see how the other half lives."
"Billy, don't put yourself down all the time. I don't like that."
"I'm, not. I just meant come and see how life is in the country, City Boy."
"Okay. I'd love to come out. But, how am I going to get there? You live way out in the country and I can't drive."
"Can't drive? I thought Superboy could do anything."
"Well I'm not and I can't, and," (Raising his leg with the cast on his foot), "And I can't leap tall buildings either, at the moment."
"I suppose not, at the moment. When will you be getting rid of that thing anyway?"
"The sooner the better. Another eight days, I think."
"Can't you get your brother to drive you out? He's got a car."
"Yes, maybe. I'll ask him."
"Do that. And if he won't, just ring Ma, she'll send Butch or someone, they've all got cars. Any of the Carvers would drive you anywhere."
"Okay, I'll ask Jonathan. Someone'll take me. So, where do you live, exactly? How do we get there? What time can I come?"
They talked arrangements and agreed that he'd meet Justin, at the side of the road, at 9.30 am., the following morning. The first bell rang, to return to class. Billy stood up and dusted himself off.
"Time to go. See you tomorrow then."
"Yeah. I'll look forward to it. 'Bye Billy."
"Yeah, me too. 'Bye Sweetcheeks."
Justin lunged at him, but he ran off laughing. Justin picked up his rubbish and watched him go. "Bye Sweetcheeks."
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
