OUTFIELD - SAME TIME

PIP FOLEY

He groans as he attempts the first of ten push ups, he’s been calling injury, that he is cold and, ironically, for his momma ever since he got here! “Only another 20 to go, just think of how buff you are going to be!” He glowers. “Not that there will be anybody to appreciate it though, well apart from you, and you don’t count.”

He makes the mistake of stopping and sitting stubbornly on his ass. “I will not be treated this way! I have read up on this place and…” He puts his hands on either side of his hips, then squeals like a stuck pig as he looks at his filthy hands and then at what he is sitting in. “...who put that there?!”

“It is puke, it was thrown up. And the guy behind you did it when he finished his push ups, I suspect you will be doing the same.”

“How is he doing? How many has he done?” Aunt Roberta demands as she comes up with a box and a devilish smile.

“He’s done six and sat in puke. So…”

“It's a good start. Now when he is finished, give him this to do.” She looks down at him as he boils with rage, but has the common sense not to say anything, more’s the pity! “He can't help you now.”

“What's this and who can't help him?” I take the box and look inside then frown.

“This is his homework. And some tests. As for the who, Brian Kinney. I said to Square when we met up again that I could always tell when he did his homework, well now he can do them himself. As he should have done.”

“Square?” He derides her but she merely stares back at him. “He’s the least square guy I know, or maybe him being with that Stepford Wasp has changed him that way!”

“Add another 10.” She orders me and he inhales sharply. “And I call him Square because he finally squared up to his father, then took the long walk to freedom. But now he is not walking it alone. Oh one other thing, you will keep doing these tests until you get the same score as he did...it was in the 90s.”

“The 90s?” He croaks looking like his barf is going to happen without the press ups.

“And 100% on algebra. Which if I remember correctly, you sucked at.”

DEB’S HOUSE - EARLY AFTERNOON

KITCHEN

DEBS

I contemplate whether or not I should start out putting things in storage now or wait until after sentencing, either way it goes, I will be moving. I click off the kettle, the noise sounding loud in the all consuming quiet, my mind casts back to the first and last time they almost messed around in the house, it was the smell of coffee and no Vic that got my attention…

Start of flashback

LANDING OF NOVOTNY HOUSEHOLD - TWENTY ONE YEARS AGO

DEBS

The door is slightly ajar and I peer inside, my heart almost stops as they are on the bed lying very close to each other reading a comic. But it is the lean and lick of lips that Michael is doing that is causing my fear to ratchet up. Brian is concentrating on the comic, his books stacked neatly by the bed.

“I haven't seen that page yet!” Michael pouts as Brian goes to turn the page and then my blood runs cold, it is a porn magazine! I have to stop this but I am frozen to the spot.

“You are so slow!” Brian grumbles as he stares at the page. “How doesn't his spine snap?”

“Dunno, but it looks like fun…”

“You could never do that!” Brian bumps his shoulder.

“I could!” He retorts but Brian just laughs harder. “I could too!” He flops angrily onto his back snatching the magazine off of Brian to read it himself.

“Mikey, don't be such a grouch, I know you can, I was just teasing.” He rolls over and stares at the ceiling before turning to look at a still pouting Michael. “Come on…” He sits up and looks over his shoulder at him. “...Michael, I will tickle you, and I know how much you hate that remember?”

“Don’t you dare!” He shrieks and my ear drums vibrate, I watch with morbid fascination as Brian pounces and starts to tickle him. Soon he is screaming he is going to be sick and Brian relents; he lies back down next to him but with his head on his hand and the other on Michael’s stomach.

No, not that don’t do that!

“Why do you keep touching me like that, you’re not going to do anything with me are you?”

“Maybe Mikey, maybe, looks like you want me to…” He gestures at his crotch. “...I have seen you before.” Michael gulps. “You gonna stop me Mikey?” His hand reaches down.

“I…”

This spurs me into action and I snatch up the laundry basket and barge in, they spring apart like scalded cats. While Brian looks relatively unfazed, Michael looks furious.

“Ma! We discussed the knocking thing when Brian and I are doing homework! We need to concentrate!”

“Ah that would explain the coffee mugs. They say it is good for the brain. So anything dirty I can take down?”

“Me I guess.” Brian grins and picks up his books. “I am a filthy minded beast.”

“I am saying nothing Junior Stud, go on ahead, you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Uh Brian, I still have to finish off, you said you would help...” Michael begins.

“Brian is going to help me load the washer and get a nice big meat sandwich for his trouble, you finish off yourself.” I tell him firmly and push Brian ahead.

As we hit the kitchen I hear a low howl from Michael’s room, we exchange glances but neither of us say a word. Less than five minutes later, a less mutinous Michael comes down and looks around the room.

“Where’s Brian?”

“Gone back to school. He forgot something.”

“What?”

“Gym kit.” I reply and start to prepare his sandwich.

“Hold the sandwich, I will be back! Going to help Brian look for his kit…”

He is out the door before I can stop him. This cannot be good…

I look up from my magazine forty minutes later and Michael is pale and storming up the stairs.

“Hey what’s wrong? What happened?! Did you find Brian?!”

“Yeah I found him!” He snaps and looks furious.

“Honey, is Brian okay? Do I need to go to his house again?!”

“No, he’s more than fine! I am going to do my homework.”

“Michael what is the mat…” But he storms up the rest of the stairs and slams his door. “...oh this is ridiculous!” I reach for the phone and dial the number, Joan picks up and I roll my eyes as she slurs her greeting. “May I speak to Brian please?!” I wait for a few seconds. “Hey kiddo, you alright? Good. It was just that Michael’s come back all upset and...well he went to the school to help you find your gym kit. You didn’t see him? Oh okay, did you find the kit? Oh good, did you remember to thank the kid? Alright kiddo see you tomorrow? You sound tired, you should go to bed right after your shower. You’ve already had a shower, that was quick, okay goodnight.”

I head upstairs and knock on the door, he opens it still looking furious.

“Just spoke to Brian, he never saw you in school. He another kid found the kit, he is going to bed, said he was tired…”

“I bet he is! Ma, like him, I am tired, but also I am starting to feel a bit sick, can I be off tomorrow?”

I feel his forehead, it is a bit warm, so I nod. “Okay but only in the morning, you’ve got football in the afternoon, and you know how you like to moon over the jocks...”

End of flashback

I chuckle as I make my way to the lounge, he managed to convince me to let him stay home for the rest of the week, and I only found out that he and Brian quarrelled by eavesdropping. Turns out that Brian was very grateful to his kit finder, so much so that they made out for a while and Michael saw them! And not only that, but he was one of the buddies of the jock that beat Michael up! I almost had to stick my fist in my mouth when Brian said it was just kiss and a bit of touching, and besides he was horny. When Michael said he should've stayed with him instead of being a washer woman and they could both have got what they wanted, Brian laughed and said the moment had passed forever. Michael cried himself to sleep that night.

Settling down to TV, I idly flick the channels and then come a stop as the Ironmen game is on, I gasp as the camera pans up to the players box and there is Madam Fucking PFLAG Chairlady and her husband sitting next to Emmett! It should be me there! I am about to switch to another channel when I freeze as another memory hits me! Oh my God no please no...but I know in the depths of my soul that it was him...with trembling hands I reach for my phone and call my attorney.

“Please listen!” I interrupt her tirade. “I need you to see if you can get hold of Jack Zyniaf, he went to school with Brian and Michael. And…” I swallow down the fury and shame. “...I think it was Michael that outed him to everyone because he saw Brian kiss him! And because he outed him he was virtually an outcast, and beaten up almost every day for being a fag, until they moved! Don't you see what that means...yes exactly, lord knows who else he’s had a hand in their destruction. Okay, and sorry for...but I had to. Thanks, see you on Wednesday.”

I reach for the brandy and generously add to my mug. “It’s time...it’s time for me to go!”