Chapter 34 Uomo Libero
UOMO LIBERO
ZEKE
I walk up the steps of Perth Steam Works. The air is warm and moist as Muscle Boy Johnny buzzes me through and I open the door.
Instead of entering the bathhouse, I walk behind the front desk and set up for my shift.
I like working here. I can wear my Tom of Finland T-shirt to work. I help guys navigate the sauna experience. I don’t have to pretend to be anyone I’m not.
Working here, I see all kinds of men. Some fat, some skinny.
Some old, some young. White, Black, Asian, everything.
Bears and twinks. Tradies and professionals.
So many different guys finding their way in this city, coming to a dirty sanctuary where they’re welcome, where they can get what they need and be who they are, without shame.
I moved out of Curtis and Ahmed’s three weeks after the funeral.
I badly wanted to live on my own and Ahmed still had Rex and Charlie to fuss over.
I found a total dive in Wembley: a studio apartment in a big block of flats on Herdsman Parade, right near the swamp.
I have one room, a bedroom-slash-kitchen-slash-lounge, and a dunny and shower, which I share with the redolence of my neighbours’ cigarette smoke and a bunch of cockroaches.
But it’s my own place, with my Tom of Finland poster tacked up on proud display in my living room. I love it.
In my downtime, I’ve taken up a new hobby.
I got a gym membership, and Jack’s taking me for my first PT session next week.
I doubt I’ll become a gym junkie like him – I like food too much – but you don’t know until you try something.
After all, I never thought I’d be a footy guy either, yet here I am, the newly appointed president of the Perth Centurions Football Club.
When Brick found being both coach and president too much, I offered to step up and lead the club.
There aren’t many clubs like us in the world.
I thought of Curtis. Pioneers make new things happen. I want to be a pioneer, too.
Our first AFL 9s game is next week. We’ll probably lose. I can’t wait.
Between the footy club and the sauna, Charlie teases me that I’ve gone from Office Gay? to a Professional Homosexual?, by which he means I’ve made my sexuality a core part of my life.
Maybe I have, but I don’t feel bad about it.
It feels like a natural reaction to having been repressed.
I feel like I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing now.
I came of age in an era where straight people wanted to convince us things were getting better, but every other day some headline suggests bigotry is right on our doorstep and we’ve gone nowhere.
I suffer when I fall into the happy Togepi illusion that homosexual men are more loved now than we used to be.
I suffer less when I accept we are always going to be misunderstood, and we’re at our happiest when we are among each other.
I cope the same way the cavemen, Ug and Grug, coped; how the pirates coped; how the cowboys of Brokeback Mountain coped; how hoverboarder Zoltan will cope in New Sydney in the year 3000 when he finally tracks down his hot tradie at the cyber-mall.
Find a hot man who looks at you the way you look at him.
Find a safe place, where you won’t be disturbed.
And do everything you’ve ever wanted to do.
Me and Kade are gonna have so much fun.