Chapter 2: Wednesday January 19: Re-visiting The Past

Not surprisingly I went through all the next morning in a total daze unable to comprehend what had happened. I tried to forget about it but couldn't, I tried to rationalise it but I couldn't do that either.

When my father had tried to find out what it was I'd simply brushed him off with some story about not feeling well.

And then there was Connie! If anyone should have been able to snap me out of it she should have, I mean she was a walking wet dream who fucked like the world was about to end. And oh how she tried, first by pressing her nearly naked body to mine and second by kissing me as she took me in hand and masturbated me gently until I was as hard as tempered steel. Even then I couldn't do anything, for the first time that I could remember I was refusing the offer of a quick fuck, and when you knock Connie back you are refusing one of lifes great experiences. God I even pulled out of her mouth when she got to her knees and began to give me one of her patented deep-throat specials.

"Is there something wrong with me Cyril?" She'd said to my father. "I mean it's not as if I normally have to throw myself at him. Usually Winston's sticking that cock of his up me every chance he gets. You know how he is, coming up behind me, lifting my skirt and pulling down my panties, that is if I'm wearing any," she had grinned, "and then he just fucks me where I'm standing. And here he is this morning refusing my pussy that's just dripping juices for his lovely cock, and he won't even let me give him a blowjob."

Dad had looked and grinned as I had just stood there unable to offer any explanation.

"Yeah you're right Connie it is strange," my dad had answered as he had watched me refuse Connie's come-on for what must have been the fifth time, "but I have a funny feeling that the answers will come if we're just patient with him. "In the meantime," he had asked Connie, "will a cock slightly smaller and several years older suffice until Winston sorts out whatever is troubling him?"

At that point Connie had stripped the thong and T-shirt she was wearing and had jumped all over him kissing every inch of his face before she took him by the hand and led him to their bedroom.

I can't remember much else of what happened in the morning but I do remember telling them there was somewhere I had to go, something I had to do, that they had to trust me and not ask questions. Not that I could've given any answers if they had because I didn't know myself. All I really knew was that I was going to Geelong and that I had to go by V-line (country train service).

I looked at my watch as I waited for the train and worked out that I had enough time to grab a quick bite and a book or magazine before the train left.

I walked back through the barrier and headed back down the long walkway. Posters on both sides covered the dirty grey walls and advertised everything from dry cleaners to Coca-Cola, from directions to the Crown Casino to the latest concert at Rod Laver Arena. I passed the only food place in the area, smelt the greasy chips, dim sims and spring rolls and knew that whether it was filled with fat or dried up and devoid of taste I'd take whatever was on offer on the way back rather than go hungry.

At the end of the walkway you had a choice of turning left or right in a fairly steep rise to the street. I chose left and came out close to the paper seller occupying a spot next to the station entrance. A quick glance at my watch as I reached the street and turned towards the men's magazine section told me I had a little over eight minutes to make a selection and buy some food. That meant no time to choose, time only to grab the first copies of Hustler and Penthouse I could lay my hands on.

Ten minutes later I was on the train sitting opposite two attractive girls. One wore a plain, high collared, blue and yellow patterned dress pulled primly over her knees and a light blue cardigan while the other wore plain black cotton slacks, a white blouse and a dull red cardigan all of which hid rather than accentuated her figure. On the seat next to me was a large bag of chips soaked in vinegar, four steamed dim sims saturated in soy sauce, a spring roll, two potato cakes and a 1.25 litre bottle of Coke. On my lap were the two magazines with the copy of Hustler opened to the centrespread exposing — in classic gynaecological shots — all the charms of two girls, one a blonde with spectacular breasts and the other a rather petite brunette.

This was a kind of ritual, a little game I played on a regular basis. A sort of shock tactic. After all if I could buy them anywhere I could read them anywhere couldn't I? Even so it was hard not to wonder what they were thinking.

I'd just started to get the idea that the events of the previous night were an aberration when the voice chose that moment to return.

'You make them want to vomit, what do you think? You don't suppose that they enjoy sitting opposite you while you flip through a magazine like that? Oh, and just in case you're wondering, they think you're an offensive piece of trash, which isn't unreasonable. After all it does seem to me that what you've got there is just a little over the top for a mid-afternoon snack.'

Just then one of the girls, the one wearing the yellow dress, sitting opposite placed her left elbow on her knee, planted her chin into the palm of her open left hand as she leant forward and looked straight at me. "You no good pervert, you disgusting fat slob, is that all you can do, read filthy magazines like that? And that food, it just makes me nauseous, you know if I was eating something, just looking at you would be enough to make me vomit. I'll just bet you're the sort of disgusting degenerate who rapes old women and children, who would take those magazines into the bathroom and take himself in hand while he was looking at them, aren't you? In fact I'll bet you're one of those... those people who practice paedophilia aren't you?"

"Tina!" The other girl was just staring, mouth wide open, her expression one of shock. "How could you talk to this man like that? How could you behave so terribly, haven't we been brought up to understand and forgive people the way they behave? Hasn't mother taught us better than that?"

As the train began to grind to a halt at Footscray Station the first girl, the one called Tina, looked at her sister, her expression had changed from one of disgust to one of confusion. "What do you mean Josephine, talk to the man in what way? I didn't say anything to... er... I couldn't have, could I?"

I watched dumbfounded as the second girl nodded her head before pointing in my direction.

"Look at him Tina, would you say that he looked just a little stunned, as if somebody had given him a piece of their mind. What I want to know is how could you say such things when you've always been so understanding of others, I mean isn't that why we go to church? And how can you deny that you said those things when everybody in the carriage heard."

Suddenly she looked at me as the passengers who had boarded at that station took their seats and the train began moving. "I wish to apologise on my sister's behalf. Now while I won't say we approve of that type of reading material and it's demeaning portrayal of women, or your choice of sustenance, it is a free country and my sister's behaviour is inexcusable and completely out of character." She stood up then, took her sister by the hand and forced her out of her seat. "I think maybe a change seating, even a change of carriage at the next station would be a good idea don't you?"

'Wasn't that fun?'

The sound of riotous laughter filled my ears as the girls stood up ready to move down the carriage, but then suddenly they sat down again.

'Not bad for openers, I reckon you just might have deserved what she said, what do you think? And while you're giving that some thought think about whether it was the young girl's idea, or whether it was just possible I may have had something to do it.

'I was going to let them walk down to the other end of carriage but I have an amusing idea that might help prove a point, might make you a bit of a believer.'

My plan was still to ignore the voice and pretend it didn't exist, which wasn't real hard, after all I'm a very straight-laced person with both feet fixed firmly on the ground and I certainly don't believe in all that spirit nonsense. That decided I shoved a half-dozen chips into my mouth and followed it with decent slug of the Coke.

'God you're a pig Winston. Now why don't you prove the girl right. Tell you what, when you've finished the chips why don't you push a whole dim sim into you're mouth and swallow it in one go, that should really impress anyone that's looking.'

That damn voice just kept on and on and my resolve was weakening. Despite my best intentions to ignore what was happening I just couldn't help but wonder if this whatever it was did have something to do with it. Really I had two choices, believe in what I was hearing or accept that I was going mad. After all the girl Tina, the one who abused me had seemed genuinely stunned by what she was supposed to have said, and her sister did say that it was very much out of character compared to her normal behaviour.

'Of course I had something to do it, just what sort of a moron do you think I am? They come from a very religious family and poor Tina Just wouldn't have been capable of that sort of abuse without a gentle nudge from me. She was thinking about it though, and that made it simple enough for me to convince her to give you a piece of her mind.'

The voice stopped for a couple of seconds as if considering something.

'Do you know what else I discovered Winston? No. Well I'll just have to tell you won't I. I've discovered while probing deep into their subconscious that both girls are virgins.'

Again the voice stopped. Maybe he had another mind game to play on me.

'Now we're coming to the amusing part, or rather parts. Would you find it amusing if the second girl Josephine, the one wearing slacks, suddenly developed an uncontrollable lust for that obnoxious body of yours? It's possible you know. Although she wouldn't dream of admitting it to her sister the second girl is curious about sex, keen to be fucked, not that she thought of it in quite those terms of course. Be good for me too because obviously being dead puts something of a dampener on your sex life. Of course I could make it happen--' I heard the sound of fingers clicking '--just like that. But I don't think I'll do that just yet, plenty of time for that later. In the meantime though I think I'll have her undress and show you her naked body.'

And incredibly enough that's exactly what she did. She stood up, looked at me and smiled. "You know sir I think that as payment for my sister's rudeness and as you seem to have a prurient interest in the physical aspects of the female I should do something nice for you."

Tina's face registered complete astonishment. She watched, as did the rest of passengers in the carriage, with total disbelief as her sister began to unbutton her cardigan. Then she watched as Josephine placed the cardigan on the seat and began to unbutton her blouse.

I kept waiting for her to say something but she said nothing. It was almost as if this voice this whatever, whoever it was, was preventing her from doing so.

'Well of course I am Winston, after all it simply wouldn't do to have her spoil the fun would it?'

A matter of a minute later Josephine was standing there stark naked with an incredulous sister and a stunned group of passengers, me included, looking on. And it was at that moment, with the girl still naked, that we began to pull into Newport station.

I expected panic to set in at any moment, but they simply grabbed Josephine's clothes and stepped off the train onto the platform. And then the panic set in.

The last thing I saw as the automatic doors shut was a naked and panicking Josephine and her very confused and equally panicky sister running down the platform, presumably towards the ladies toilet ready to wait the hour for the next train.

'Ha-ha-ha, now wasn't that fun. But if you're still not convinced I'll just have to think of something else that might offer some equally embarrassing proof.'

That was the last thing I wanted to hear because it would offer some tangible evidence that this thing, this whatever or whoever, this voice really was having a definite effect on my life. And what did he mean by equally embarrassing? What could he do that could match or better what he had just done to the girl Josephine?

I picked up the second of the dim sims, went to take a giant bite, thought better of it and only took a third of it into my mouth. As I swallowed the tiny piece of food and took a drink I took a closer look at the centrespread. The pictures were just the sort of disgustingly vulgar beaver shots I got off on.

'Always did like tugging on that cock of yours didn't you Winston. I mean after all you did it plenty of times in front of the girls at those orgies we used to have. But of course you wouldn't do it in public. Or would you? It seems to me that you're still not one hundred percent sure of my existence. That being the case, I guess that would be good way of proving it. How about it, do you think I could make you do that?'

There was silence again for a moment as if he was waiting for me to say something. When I didn't he continued.

'Well seeing as you continue to hold onto those doubts I'll just have to turn you into a believer won't I? In fact I'm going to do it right now.'

A sudden change came over me, something akin to dizziness that lasted for only a split-second and seemed to leave me in a different world. I looked at the girls in the magazine and smiled. Then I remembered Josephine. Suddenly I felt so turned on by the pictures and by the memory of the girl's naked body that it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world to relieve all of the sexual frustrations that had built up. And how else was I going to release that pressure, what else could I do? I moved the magazine slightly, slid the zipper down and pulled my almost fully erect cock out into the open and began masturbating. As turned on as I was it only took a few seconds until I shot stream after stream of cum all over the seat that the girl Tina had so recently vacated. And then the dizziness came back, again only for a split-second.

'I think maybe you should put that thing back in your pants don't you Winston? Oh, and don't forget to wipe it first. You know I reckon most of the rest of the carriage are just as disgusted with your behaviour as that girl Tina was, and if you doubt that, just take a look at that man sitting in the seat across the aisle from you. From the look on his face I doubt he's ever seen anybody masturbating in public. And when you're done looking at him check out the seat opposite you.'

I looked down and was shocked to realise that I had my cock in hand and that it was dribbling cum, and that everybody had had a clear view of what I had just done and those that weren't mumbling about how much of a pervert I was were sitting in their respective seats slack-jawed with astonishment.

I looked across to the man the voice had mentioned, if dirty looks were bullets I was dead dozens of times over.

"You filthy pig, you filthy fat pig. How could you do something so disgusting? You know what I'm going to do, I'm going to call the police and have you arrested."

I looked across at the seat opposite me and saw that it was fairly well covered in semen. God I really had masturbated, had this whatever, whoever — I really would have to give him, or it, a name — been genuinely responsible for me doing something so perverted?

Red-faced I straightened myself up, hurriedly put the magazines down, took a mouthful of chips and followed it up with another large slug of Coke and stared out of the window as I waited anxiously for the train to arrive at Werribee, the next station, so that I could change carriages.

'I am not whatever or whoever. You could try using my proper name, or brother, even friend works well. You see what I'm trying to prove to you is that I can be a better friend to you dead than I ever was alive as your brother Colin. That is if you'll let me. You think about it while you're on your way to my old place, and while you visit the house where that kid shot me, and I'll come back and see you tonight. Oh and don't worry about that guy, I'll make sure he doesn't call the police.'

Now I was starting to become a believer despite myself. How else could you explain what had happened so far. The slap in the face had certainly felt real enough, then there was what the girl Tina had said, and the fact that she had seemed genuinely shocked when challenged by her sister. Then of course there was her sister undressing in public, something that I'm sure, with that religious upbringing she had spoken about, she couldn't have been capable of.

And what about the business of me literally pulling my cock out of my trousers and masturbating until I came all over that seat? Now I know that's something I, or anybody else for that matter, would never do. But what was more disturbing than that was that I had no memory it.

Nothing much had changed when I reached the familiar landmarks of the old estate. The park was still there with the same swings and monkey bars, the same roundabout and slide. Oh they were a little rustier and made a little more noise, but that didn't seem to stop the children from playing on them. There didn't seem to be as many though, and there did seem to be more parents around these days. That and a few more empty houses than there used to be seemed to be a comment on society and the gangs that seemed so widespread and well-armed these days.

One of the empty houses was the very place where Colin and his own gang used to squat. I opened the iron gate and followed a footpath barely discernible in the midst of a jungle of grass and weeds to a front door that stood open and inviting. I walked in as far as the two front rooms — both were totally devoid of furniture — and sat down on the threadbare carpet.

I half expected to hear my brother's voice again, half expected the voice to start talking about the old days. Then suddenly I didn't need him to prompt me as the memories came flooding back. I began to remember the parties and the drugs, especially the cocaine. I used to think they were such good old days too. The drugs and the booze brought the girls, and the girls brought uninhibited sex. Good sex it was too. Good enough to make me spend almost all of my free time at my brother's place in those days.

Unfortunately it was during the week of an interstate 'business trip' that things went tragically wrong. Everybody told me it wasn't my fault, that the week I spent in Sydney with my father had been vital to the family. And anyway — so they told me — how was I to know such a thing could happen, that a kid could go so crazy? But you don't think logically when your brother, and best friend, has just been killed and you know in your own mind that if you'd been there you might have been able to help.

I walked out of the house and looked around me, at the deserted street, at the other houses, some of which were in the same state as this one, others that at least looked occupied. I thought about the gangs of kids squatting in them leading lives similar to the one my brother had led, thought about how they would probably still be sleeping off a late night, sleeping off the standard cocktail of booze and drugs. At one time I would've been jealous, but now I felt sorry for them knowing that there was something better out there than a never ending supply of hard drugs and booze.

If the killing of my brother had one positive effect on me it was my decision to stop drinking and taking drugs, my decision to go on the wagon and to stop the drugs 'cold turkey'.

I turned right at the end of the street without making a conscious decision to do so and continued my recollections of the aftermath of my brother's murder, for I considered it to be just that and not the verdict of justifiable homicide that the court had handed down.

The many months that followed the verdict and my decision to go 'cold turkey' with the drying out and the methadone treatment had been the toughest of my life because I hadn't expected my body to react the way it did. Oh I'd heard of cases involving people hooked on drugs but that wasn't me, after all I was just a casual user wasn't I?

That I survived at all and managed to complete the programme set down for me was a tribute to my father's strength of character, and the medical and sociological skills of two trusted friends, one a nurse and the other a doctor, both of whom had the patience of Job. The recovery had been slow and even drink was banned, not only for me but for the entire household. Of course it goes without saying that drugs were banned as well, even marijuana, something that created quite a lifestyle change in a family that made its living out of drug-dependency.

It took a total of six months before I was considered to be comparatively normal again, before I was able to hold down all of my food, nine before I was allowed a wine with my meal and twelve before that extended to an occasional beer.

As suddenly as my mind drifted it came back to the present as I realised just where I was heading. I stopped for a moment and considered whether I really needed to subject myself to this. I didn't think for long, a matter of seconds later I was on my way again taking positive steps towards a different estate. 'May as well get it over with' I thought to myself as I continued on down the street.

Ten minutes later I was at the house having found my way as if the killing of my brother had happened yesterday. But I didn't stay, there was no point because I didn't feel any different now than before. After all it was just another house and — as far as I knew — the same family with the same two children who'd bought it cheaply afterwards were still living in it. 'No' I thought as I turned around and headed back 'that was three years ago and it was water under the bridge now'.