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Road Trip – Wodonga to Melbourne

JUSTIN

As we approach Melbourne, my sense of unease grows. I know this is happening for my safety, but the future is unknown and frightening. I’m about to be handed over to a stranger, and I’m going to be totally at their mercy, dependent on their discretion and their loyalty to whoever it is who’s asked for this favor. My own family were happy enough to hand me over for conversion, so how much can I trust a stranger?

At least I'm in Victoria, where it’s against the law to conduct this so-called conversion therapy, and now I know what the family has planned for me, I can resist. The first time, I had no idea what was happening to me. I just went along with everything until it was too late.

I look across at Axel. He’s concentrating on driving, but he’s also grown quieter as we approach the outer suburbs. Where yesterday we spent a lot of the drive relaxed and chatty as if we were on a road trip, today the atmosphere in the car is a lot more somber. I wonder if he’s worried that this won’t work out, or that we’ll be caught, or maybe – and there’s a little kernel of hope in my chest – he doesn’t want to leave me.

It’s late morning when we pull into the driveway of a quaint suburban house. Axel checks the address before we exit the car and walk up to the front door. I breathe in lungfuls of faintly salty air... we must be somewhere near the bay, I think. I was too absorbed in my worries to pay much attention as we drove through Melbourne. It won't matter anyway, as I won't be going out and about.

There’s a mat on the doorstep, one of those ubiquitous bristle mats with WELCOME printed on it in large, faded letters. I hope the actual welcome won’t fade too.

I’m trembling a little and I’m sure Axel notices, but he doesn’t say anything, just puts his arm around my shoulders as we wait for someone to answer the doorbell. We hear slow footsteps make their way towards the door, and when at last it swings open, we’re met by a grey-haired lady with a lined but friendly face. She looks carefully at us both then breaks into a wide, welcoming smile.

“Axel and Justin?” she asks, cheeks rounded and plumped up by the wide set of her smile. I notice she has gentle eyes. They're grey, like mine.

Axel nods.

“I’m Max’s grandmother. I’ve been expecting you. I’m glad you made it down here safely. You can call me Gran, like Max does. Come inside.”

Once inside, with the door locked, she takes a good look at me. I know how bad I look. The bathroom mirror at the motel was not complimentary. My face is pale, and there are dark circles under my eyes, and there’s a faint but distinct tension tightening my face. It’s easy to see which one of us is in trouble.

“You must be Justin,” Gran enfolds me in a warm grandmotherly hug. “You poor boy. I don’t know what your family was thinking. But don’t you worry, you’ll be safe here.”

“It’s really kind of you to take me in. Are you sure it’s okay, though?” I ask, as I step back. “I have to stay in hiding until school finishes in about six weeks.”

“Perfectly fine. If you’re thinking there’s nothing in this for me, you’d be wrong. I’m looking forward to having some company for the next month or so. Now Max is living in Paris I don’t get many visits anymore.”

“I’m the black sheep of the family,” she adds with a wink. “The rest of the family thinks I’m on the scandalous side, so they don’t bother me too often.”

Despite everything, I smile. Max’s grandma seems like she’ll be fun.

She turns to Axel.

“So, you’re Axel? Max’s friend.” She says it more as a statement than a question.

“Yes. And Justin’s boyfriend.”

She doesn’t skip a beat.

“Well, you’re a good boyfriend to take care of him like this,” she says.

“That’s my job, isn’t it? Wouldn’t be much of a boyfriend if I didn’t,” he replies cheerfully. I can see he likes Gran and I do too.

“That’s true. But it’s not always the easy thing to do.”

Axel just shrugs.

“Well, let’s get you settled, and then we can have a cup of tea and make plans. Have you got bags?”

Axel nods. “I’ll get them.”

While he’s fetching our backpacks, Gran shows me to my room. The walls are painted in a peaceful blue color, and there’s a single bed, a dresser and a bookcase. Filmy curtains cover the floor-to-ceiling glass that looks out onto a balcony with a stunning view of the bay. A beautiful salty breeze blows gently through the open window.

“This is Max’s room when he visits,” Gran says in her sing-song voice. “There are empty drawers in the dresser where you can put your things, Justin. Make yourself at home. This is your room for as long as you need it.”

“Thank you. It’s a beautiful room. It’s… peaceful.”

“Yes. This room has seen some stories over the years.” She sighs, a wistful expression flickering across her face, but she doesn’t elaborate on her comment.

Axel appears in the doorway with my backpack and puts it down inside. His eyes flick to the bed, and I can almost see what he’s thinking.

Gran turns to Axel.

“I assumed you’d stay at least one night before driving back to Sydney, so I’ve made up the other guest room for you. It’s down here.”

She leads the way to the other bedroom which is located a little further down the corridor and on the other side, facing the garden instead of towards the bay. It’s a storage room as well as a bedroom, as evidenced by the piles of laundry on the cupboards and the sewing machine in the corner. There’s also a large bed, at least a double, probably queen size.

“While you’re here, this is your room,” Gran says. Then adds nonchalantly, “My room is across the hall, but I sleep quite soundly, so I won’t hear if you move around in the night.”

I’m pretty sure she just gave us carte blanche to sleep together.