Date: Sun, 18 Aug 2002 19:07:14 +1000 From: David Spencer <davidspencer1@hotmail.com> Subject: Landlord: Stephen 03 This problem had a couple of surnames. At different times he had told me each of them and explained why he used them. Frank tended to ramble a bit and I would just nod sympathetically. I never really knew whether he forgot what he told me, whether I forgot what he told me or whether he told me something which he had already forgotten. But Frank was in trouble this time and wanted me to give him a reference for court. I readily agreed of course, and promised him one as soon as he gave me the details. I then promptly forgot. A little while later he runs into me again and tells me the same story. At least he was being consistent this time. I promised him a reference again and promptly forgot. It was only three days later that I saw him at the train station and he asked me again. I asked him when the next listing date was and he said he had forgotten. I thought maybe this sounded a little bit genuine. It did not really sound like one of his fruity lexia befogged ramblings. So I asked him what the charges were. He mumbled, shuffled, edged around and didn't tell me but asked for a reference again. I happily agreed and of course promptly forgot. The next time I saw him he actually had a legal aid chit with him telling when the next hearing date was. Three days away. He said he was not guilty. One of the characters who used to crash at his place was jealous he got on so well with the young bloke. Nothing had ever happened. He just came in when the young bloke had got out of the shower and was in Frank's bedroom getting changed. It was only coincidental that Frank was in there helping him at the time. Yes Frank. Who is the young bloke. Oh just someone who has been helping me collect cans around the mall. Ding! Not the young bloke who was with you down under Coles in the car park that afternoon I saw you? Frank started doing his double shuffle again. I started to see some light coming through. At least I suppose you could call it light. Is that stuff that comes out of a TV screen light? I mean, it flitters and flutters and hurts so much it should not be allowed to be called with as positive a name as light. And the junk messages it usually conveys. That doesn't really do anything to enlighten anyone, does it? So is it light or something else? Anyway... What happened was I was coming out of Coles at Maitland via the ground level carpark. I very rarely travel to Maitland to go shopping. But it is the only place I know of in the region where you can get fresh rump steaks. Roo rump, that is. Excellent low fat healthy red meat. The best. And he was down there with this 13 or 14 year old. The kid was bouncing around like he'd been to Mexico and had gotten both pockets full of jumping beans. The kid said to me `You ought to see what we found'. I looked at Frank who seemed to cringe but gave me four videos. They looked new. He also gave me the shopbag they had been packed in plus individually wrapped wet towels, condoms and lube. This was going to be an interesting story. Frank said some woman had walked up to a big 4wd, opened up the back of it and looked inside while her husband quickly got out of the driver's seat and raced around the back. The wife opened up the bag and looked inside and said `you lousy no-good son of a bitch. You're a downright dirty lying bastard. You HAVE been seeing him again. This marriage is finished. Terminated. Caput. Permanently. I'll also save you the trouble and let your daughter know myself.' She wapped him a good one and stormed off. Frank gave me the package and said `it's evidence. You'd better keep it. It'll be safe with you'. Honestly, my chest swelled out and I was delighted he trusted me so much. He wandered off with the jumping bean and I hightailed it off to catch the train which was due in about then. Well here I was with these bloody video tapes. I was not all that interested in them. I mean I'd had an eyeful of that type of stuff for those few months I'd been working in federal court in Elizabeth Street. All we seemed to do was get in boxes and boxes of evidence which had not been properly catalogued by customs or the federal police. So we had to catalogue the bloody things or risk getting blamed when the bloody things got lost. It was amazing just how often they did get lost. It ended up being a farce. I mean just how many versions of Debby Does Dallas are there? And the Office of Censorship, or whatever they were calling themselves at that time, the one that's responsible for film classification, they're the ones who are supposed to have looked at the bloody things and decided whether they needed to be restricted or banned or whatever. And to prove that the bloody things we have in our evidence room are the same as the ones the censorship office has already classified or whatever, well that was the crux of so many defences, so to speak. No I had had a gutful of the bloody things. I decided to get rid of these seventy dollars a pop jobs. Well what to do with them? I went down to the local post office and got some padded post bags. Next, I mocked up some labels on the local library computer complete with a bodgie return post box address. I put the videos one in each padded post bag. I sealed one, put an address label on it, and popped it in Stephen's letterbox. It was addressed to the partner. The others went into the bottom of my dressing table drawer. Then I sat back to listen to events that night next door. I heard nothing. Absolutely nothing. Come to think of it, I heard nothing for the next four nights. Ok. I can play the waiting game too. The following Monday, the next video went into next door's letter box. Same deal. Nothing all week. The next week the third video went into the post office bag, label on, and into next door's letter box. Stephen had been hanging around most of the morning but the postie was later than usual. He went out just before the postie arrived. By then I was dancing around on my toes in anticipation. I was down with the parcel before the postie was even out of the street. Stephen came home about five minutes later, checked the mail, and took it inside. Now Stephen, when he's not pissed, really is quite some cool customer. About twenty minutes later he was scratching at the side door. You can't ring any door bell ... there isn't any. You can't really knock on the door ... all the loose termite nest falls out from above and onto you. If I'm upstairs asleep, I don't really want to be disturbed. And if anyone knocks on the front door I never answer it. Friends, relatives and neighbours all know to rattle the side door, or make some sort of a noise around there, or just walk in if the door is open. Anyone who comes to the front door doesn't know me. If they don't know me, then I don't want to know them. Anyway... So Stephen wanders in. Postie was late. Oh, was he? Anything interesting? No, not really. Expecting something from overseas or a present or something? No not really. So we get onto some other topic. But Stephen is shuffling again. Something has him uncomfortable, or irritated, or curious. I can wait. I know what it is. He thinks I might know what it is. I know he thinks I might know what it is. We both smile at each other at the same time. Bloody hell. I burst out laughing. He giggles. It's one of those things. I say `so who worked it out first?' He says `what do you mean?' I just go harr-rumpfh. Pause. Then he says `well it was the labels. They look good. Really good. Except there aren't any stamps on them or cancellation marks. They must have been put in the letter box about the same time the postman comes, but not by the postman.' `And you decided to wait around today to see if the postman brought them or whatever?' `Yes' `But you weren't here when the postman came.' `No, but I was only gone for about fifteen minutes. And the postman didn't deliver them since there are no stamps on them. It means that someone had to be real near and watching out for the postman to arrive. And when I got back after only being away for a short while, there was the mail and the parcel.' `Are you going to tell buggerlugs?' `Oh, he worked it out long ago.' That surprised me. `So he doesn't want them then?' `Oh yes. He wants them all right. Actually he quite enjoys them. He stays up til early morning each Monday night watching the new one, and then again a couple of times more.' 'And you watch them with him?' `No, he uses the earphones. I go to bed when he starts them the first time. He wakes me up when he gets to bed. Not that he really needs to wake me up ... you know?' Actually, I didn't really know. Not that I was going to admit it. I thought there probably was a certain logic in what he was saying but the exact meaning eluded me at the time. Years later I came to realise he was saying that the partner was so charged up by the videos, he just did the great dane trick. He just wanted to root anything, whether it was moving or not. It was a bit like the comments the cleaner up at the Oasis food court made to me one night. She said the Greeks would fuck anything that walked on two legs. Naturally I agreed with her 'cause I wanted to hear the rest of the story. Then she said the Lebanese would try to fuck anything whether it walked on two legs or four. Ok, yes. Of course. But those bloody Macedonians she said. The Macedonian men would fuck anything that moved. And, she said, if it didn't move then they would push it. O ... k. Well the great dane trick was to get so worked up that you would fuck anything available, even the arms of the sofa. Apparently Stephen's partner was like this after he had watched one of those types of videos. So Stephen reckoned it didn't make any difference whether he was awake or not. The partner would fuck him anyhow, and without any regard to Stephen's needs, feelings or desires at the time. Also, I rather gathered, since it was so late, once the partner was finished that was it. Bad luck for Stephen if he wanted anything. Partner had to go to work early that morning and was too tired to do anything other than go to sleep. After he had got it off for himself, of course. I honestly can't remember Stephen's partner's name now. I have so successfully de-humanised him in my own mind that he no longer has a name. Pretty nifty hey? And no. I don't want to be reminded what it is. Thanks all the same. [If you would like this story to be continued, please email me, David Spencer davidspencer1@hotmail.com Positive comments are always welcome. This story and others are also archived at gaywritersguild.org]