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"It stands to reason," Grant said. "The guy is a repressed queer and obsessed with Benjie. Of course he would sniff out a link between the two and milk it for all its worth. And who was he getting his info from?" He nodded at Parvus. The latter went bright red.
"The question is what to do with the info we have now?" Wessels said. "We have to use it for two purposes. One: get Ben Jordaan out of the tjoekie (slammer), and two: make sure Adolphus Vosloo gets what's coming to him."
Grant sounded pensive when he spoke up.
"Do we know for sure where Vosloo is? If he's in the psych ward my thought is that we only have to let him stay in there long enough and let word get round of what he has been up to and he's going to come to a sticky end. We... ahem... you must just make sure the info gets to the right people and let mob justice take its course."
"Mmmmm... if I'm not mistaken, where my Ben and the effing pig are, there are already a whole lot of gay guys with an axe to grind. They might be keen to make Vosloo pay for his sins," I said.
"You could be right," Jan said in his rumbling bass, a strange sound coming from the rangy body that was more or less draped around an apparently very appreciative Coert.
"Parvus... umm... Rod just needs to tell on Vosloo."
I chimed in, "Well, my `therapist', major Blatt, already knows that Vosloo tried to rape me so it's not that far-fetched for... what did you guys call him?... for Rod to claim the same thing. But that still doesn't ensure that the guys in DB or the psych ward will hear of it."
"Leave that to me... " Rod said.
"What do you mean? What do you have up your sleeve?" Tobie asked and put a conspiratorial hand on Rod's shoulder.
Grant and I exchanged a look with raised eyebrows and smiled knowingly. Our gaydar was pinging and we could see the seeds of something germinating. Tobie's wandering eyes too frequently came to rest on the ugly little toadie's lunch. I knew where I would find the two of them come nightfall.
Just then, the two burly MPs that had brought Grant to me showed up. Grant was about to get up to take his leave when Rod got up and went over to the larger of the two, a brick shit house with a neck that started more or less where his shoulders did. He had a uni-brow above glittering black eyes and thick sensual lips that looked like they could suck the face off a clock.
Rod said something softly and the huge man bent down to hear the whispered words in his ear. We were all very curious to see the hulk's face colour an angry grape colour as he spluttered his apparent indignation. Rod calmed him down as we all wondered what other secrets the little shit harbored. Clearly he was sowing his oats quite widely since he discovered his penchant for masculine sausage up his bottom. The conversation carried on for a few more moments and then Rod nodded in Grant's direction. Rod's MP exchanged a few words with the other burly army policeman and then spoke.
"You have another hour," he informed Grant in particular and us in general. It sounded more like threat than a concession. Then the two of them turned to go.
A sheepish Roderick sauntered back to us, obviously not sure whether to be embarrassed or pleased with himself.
"Do tell, you little shit! What was that all about?" Tobie quizzed.
Parvus ducked his head in mock humility and shrugged.
"Um, let's just say that Aubrey—that's the MP I spoke to—has an interest in making sure I'm ok."
There was a glimpse of the old smug Parvus, obviously reveling in the fact that he had something to bring to the table, even if it was his admittedly cute butt. The fact that he had been the most hated man in the bungalow had blinded us all to his less than obvious charms, a lapse that Tobie was clearly intent on correcting.
"Come on little man," Tobie, our ginger tomcat purred as he put his red-furred hand on Parvus' shoulder when the small man settled down, after hobbling over on his crutch.
"Don't make me tickle the truth out of you," he threatened in a tone that could have been comical if it wasn't laced with gauche innuendo. He aimed a stubby freckled finger at Rod's ribs. The latter shrunk away from the digit and flung an acutely hideous smile in the direction of his aggressor.
"Fuck, Benjie," Grant huffed in my ear, "what have you done to these so-called straight guys? There's not one here who wouldn't shag any available guy given half a chance."
"Yeah, settle down, Red and Rod, we have a problem to solve," Wessels agreed.
"Yeah?" shot Tony. "Bennie has shown us that there's always time for a little fun... But you're right. First things first. Rod... ," Tobie started and leaned forward and whispered in the small man's ear. Parvus went bright red, not an attractive color on the pitted complexion of the unfortunate-looking guy. I reminded myself that I didn't have to be attracted to him so what harm could it do?
"So what was your conversation with Aubrey about?" I asked. "How is it going to get my Ben back?" I looked apologetically at Grant who shrugged in resignation.
"Of course he knew about Vosloo's rape attempt, so I told him that Vosloo had also tried and succeeded with me, and of course he was pissed as you could see. I told him to make sure that the guys at the psych ward heard about it. He agreed. And he also assured me that Vosloo was very unpopular amongst the brass, as you can imagine. He's made them look very bad. So I think one way or another the fucker is fucked."
There was general hilarity and it looked like the meeting was over. One by one (and in some cases two by two) the guys dispersed and Grant and I were left alone to catch up some more.
It was weird because it felt at once so familiar and at the same time odd to be chatting to him. He was obviously still distracted by my legless state as he occasionally would glance down at my absent extremities and when I caught him seem vaguely guilty.
"Grant, I don't hold you responsible for my life. I made my own choices and those are what led me here."
"I know, but I can't help feeling like it was my rejection that forced you to go. Maybe if I had supported you more you would still be whole."
I could feel my face flushing as the heat of a righteous indignation pushed blood to my cheeks. I raised my voice only slightly and the emphasis of a conviction that I hadn't known to be present in me reinforced my words with an edge of steel.
"I am whole. The loss of my legs has done more to show me my true self than my aimless wanderings, looking for a daddy figure to give my life meaning. Grant, you were all I could have wanted in a lover, knowing how needy I was for affirmation. We played into each other's unconscious desires: I played into your need to see life affirmed in my spontaneity and impulsiveness, while you played into my need to be admired and supported, and yes, fathered. It was good. But now I have to acknowledge that life can only be faced standing on my `own two feet' and I relish the challenge. That explosion robbed me of my feet but it blew away the pathetic self-pity that I didn't even know fueled my life."
I saw approval blossom in Grant's eyes and the irony didn't escape me. When I no longer needed it, here it was, an uninvited but welcomed relative at a Christmas party. It was, like many other attributes of the co-dependent personality, something you only gained when you lost the thirst for it. His face crunched up quizzically when I shook my head and leaned forward to pull him into an embrace. We both knew the tables had turned in our relationship. I had gained a self-knowledge that he couldn't glean from books, no matter how intelligent he was. Appreciation shone from his eyes, accompanied by a barely masked sadness.
"I want to go now," he whispered, his mouth close to mine. "I am falling into you and I know there's nowhere for me to land."
"There is, Grant. You will always be my rock, the man that kept my heart in trust with respect and honour, even when I didn't understand it; even when I lashed out at you because you were providing what I needed most. I have not outgrown you, I've grown into you."
Comprehension and wonder glazed his brown eyes with a sheen of moisture.
"I'm going to keep you up to date with what happens here. Don't do anything about the Ben-thing until you hear from me. It may not be necessary and I'm a little scared that they will victimize him if they get unwanted attention."
He stood up and I held onto his hand lightly. I had been unaware that our fingers had become entangled in our conversation.
"'Til we meet again, Benjamas. Now that I know you're good I can move on. I'll stay in touch. Call me if you want me to make some noise."
"I will, Grant."
Our hands parted and he turned around and walked up the path towards the guardhouse without looking back. The bond between us stretched for a while and when it reached its capacity, to my surprise it hung there comfortably, joining us in a mutuality of respect, love and comprehension that promised to sustain both of us in the years to come. I knew that our next meeting, if there was one, would simply be a picking up of where we left off.
I sighed and smiled.
While Grant and I were settling into our satisfying conclusion, two other couples were also reaching an agreement. Coert and Jan quietly peeled away from the group, making their way to a secluded grassed corridor between two of the bungalows, while Tobie tailed Roderick to his bunk.
When Coert and Jan reached their destination, Coert awkwardly sat down, laying his crutches next to him. Jan joined him there, awkwardly assuming a seat next to him. Both had their backs against the face brick wall. They leaned their heads towards each other and Coert placed his on Jan's bony shoulder. Jan in turn laid his on top of the shorter man's head and a companionable silence reigned for a few minutes. Coert was the first to break it.
"Do you think we will see Big Ben Jordaan again?" he asked in Afrikaans.
"I hope so," Jan answered. "It was him and Gay Boy that brought us together. I want to see them happy."
"Are you happy?"
Coert answered after a longish pause.
"Let me put it this way: this is the happiest I have been in a long, long time. Coert, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, you can ask me anything," the soft-spoken man answered.
"What is this to you? What am I to you? Are we gay now?"
"That's three somethings," Coert chuckled.
"Fuck you, Little Man, you know what I mean!" Jan turned his head towards Coert who lifted his off Jan's shoulder and they leaned their foreheads towards each other, touching in the middle, Coert looking slightly upward towards Jan, the taller of the two. Coert smiled into the confused eyes that he saw before him.
"Do you remember what I said the first time we found out that the two Bens were getting together? About what God says?"
When Jan answered, his voice was hushed and draped with awe.
"I will never forget that moment. It is the first time I knew that I waned you to be my friend."
"But what did I say? Do you remember the words?"
As Jan quoted, there was a catch in his voice.
"When God puts two people together, he doesn't look at whether they are men or women. He looks at their hearts and then he says: `Look at Ben Jordaan when he sees how beautiful and sweet Gay-Boy is.'" Coert saw the tears that were gathering on the lower lids of the man who was gazing into his eyes.
"Listen to me, Jan. Let's take them one at a time. What was the first one?"
"What am I to you...?" his voice trailed off as he looked into Coert's eyes, the moisture of a moment ago still glistening there, a testament to the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.
"No, that was the second something but let's start with that one. Jan de Haast," he said, taking Jan's hand and putting it on his knee. "Jy het my hart geword. In n wêreld waar n man been-af behoort te raak oor n meisie, het ek been-af geraak oor n ou." (You have become my heart. In a world where a man should lose his heart [coloq. Become legless] about a girl, I have become legless for a man).
"Kan ek jou soen, Coertie?" (Can I kiss you Coertie?) Jan leaned towards his companion.
"As jy moet," (If you must) Coert whispered.
"Ek moet,"(I must) he murmured. He placed his lips softly on Coert's. They each breathed in deeply through the nose as they lost the ability to breathe through their mouths. Their tongues inched, each towards the other's. Coert had his head back to accommodate the height of the taller soldier.
"It's so weird that I should be kissing a man," Jan whispered into Coert's mouth.
"In the army it would a lot weirder to find you kissing a woman," Coert answered and the two snorted, breaking their kiss.
"What was the second something? Oh the first thing, rather."
"It was, `What is this to you?'"
"What is this to me?" Coert used his hands to scoot even closer to Jan and with great difficulty wrestled himself onto Jan's lap facing him.
"It is what it is. It is what it is." He put his hands against the wall on either side of Jan's head and leaned forward.
"It's two guys making out a bit..." He kissed Jan's waiting mouth, the five o clock shadow scratching his lips. He relished how it contrasted with Jan's moist, soft kiss.
He continued, "... screwing around a bit," he said as he wriggled his ass around on Jan's lap, feeling the hard outline of Jan's huge erection working its way into the cleft of his ass through his browns, "and falling in love a bit," he concluded softly their foreheads again touching.
"And that brings us to the third something," Coert said.
"Do you think this makes us gay?" he asked.
Jan put his hand behind Coert's head and pulled him in to kiss him passionately, grinding his mouth into his lover's, their warring tongues expressing the joyful passion that abruptly overtook them. Then he pulled his head away and looked deeply into the eyes of the man who perched on his hard penis.
"Who the fuck cares? Isn't `gay' being happy anyway?"
Then in the worst parody of the biggest queen he or anybody else had ever seen, he lisped, "Of course I'm not gay; I'm not even smiling!"
Then he resumed snogging his boy, in turn wriggling his hard cock even deeper into the crack of Coert's browns-clad seat.
Tobie stood over Parvus, his hand supported on the edge of the top bunk, holding him up. Parvus sat on the bottom bunk, looking up at the redhead that towered over him. Tobie looked down at him and the little man's eyes glittered.
"So, Tobie, to what do I owe the honour?"
The two carried on looking at each other, mirth welling up in their eyes and finally spillingout of their mouths. Tobie giggled and bent down to meet Rod's upturned and laughing mouth. As they were about to connect with each other's lips, Parvus put his hand up and Tobie ended up kissing his palm. He pushed the redhead back upwards.
"I asked, `To what do I owe the honour?'" he repeated.
"Come on, Roderick. Don't be like that! I know we have a connection."
Rod's voice held no malice as he spoke.
"Oh, do we? And why should I suddenly trust you, now that we `have a connection?' Not a day ago you had a crocodile clamp attached to my foreskin and I was upside down with a blindfold on."
Embarrassment coloured Tobie's already ruddy cheeks and he cleared his throat. He was mute and pursed his lips.
"Why don't you sit down next to me?" He patted the mattress next to him.
"Just because both Vosloo and Aubrey have nailed me, doesn't mean that I don't have standards."
Tobie lowered himself and did as he was told, a self-deprecating smile on his lips.
"You're right, Roderick. I have to apologize for my disrespectful behaviour. I was being a dick." He sat down and paused.
"Why don't we start over? Why don't you tell me about yourself? Where are you from?"
Rod leaned over and put his hand on Tobie's knee.
"I come from a small town in the Free State. Yes, believe it or not, I'm a farm boy. Where are you from?"
Tobie smiled, took a deep breath and smiled some more.