Raw Deception Read online

  “Yup. I‘ve come to realise that my manhood is no longer in question. There’s a group that meets every Thursday night and maybe you’d like to come.”

  “What kind of group?”

  “Previously straight guys who’ve come out. Guys who are closeted and need guidance. They’re awesome people. We’re meeting tonight. I’d love it if you could come.”

  “I was never straight, Dirk.”

  “I know, but you’re hiding. I mean, you’re still closeted and these guys make it so easy to mingle and make you happy to be who you are.”

  “Time?”

  “We meet at seven in Centurion. Pete’s house tonight. Everyone has a turn to host the night.”

  “I’ll think about it. I’ll let you know shortly.”

  “Perfect. Hope to see you later then.”

  I finished watering the garden and showered, thinking that a group might just be the answer to my fears. Without Shane’s guidance I needed the courage to do what I had to do.

  Like Shane, I wanted to be totally free. My life seemed shackled and they needed to come off.

  I texted Dirk after dressing. Can you pick me up?

  Dirk. Perfect. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

  ***

  Centurion is a large suburb halfway between Johannesburg and Pretoria. Green and pampered. The group met informally and as the evening ticked on I met too many guys to remember all their names. I stayed close to Dirk who seemed to enjoy the attention, and of-course when they heard I was a colonel and a pilot, more of them gathered around us to hear our stories.

  With the informalities over, Pete, our host, a large bear of a man, introduced the two new members, a black guy named Isaac, and me. Pete called on Isaac to say a few words and give us his background.

  A tall, silky chocolate man folded his arms and told us how he grew up in a poor, crime infested neighbourhood of Soweto, had his first gay experience at the age of fourteen with an older guy and had been “addicted” ever since. His problem stemmed from the hood, where he had to project this macho image and pretend to like girls or else get beaten up by his peers. Drugs, alcohol, three children and a divorce later, he had grown up at last, began to accept himself, and intended to move on without looking back at his broken life.

  My turn. I remained seated. Glanced at Dirk seated opposite me and he nodded. So I began. “Hi, my name is Gregory Basye Sander. I’m forty-eight and a pilot in the air force. I’ve always been gay. Hopelessly gay. But somewhere deep inside I’ve always feared the coming out process. Afraid of how people would judge me against the games they play in a society that rejects more than accepts. At the age of eighteen I somehow became curious to know if I could get it up for a woman. On the night of my Matric farewell the opportunity arose. She fell pregnant and we never married. Many years later I came out to her. Together we produced the finest boy, his name is Edward and he’s grown into the most amazing young man totally at peace with his own homosexuality. Throughout my life I‘ve projected the wrong image of myself because, as a pilot and a commissioned officer in the air force, I felt the less they know about my private life, the better it would be for me. My career has driven me all these years. On a personal level, it’s ruined me, the real me. The who I am. I just want to be free. But at the same time I don’t want to be hurt. I’ve experienced the intensity of gay love and I guess I did the hurting then. Just don’t want karma to fuck me around, but I guess it’s doing just that.

  My son was taken away from me when he turned eleven and with Dirk’s help I was able to come into contact with him again and spent the whole of last week up in the mountains with him and his husband. While there, I met a remarkable young man who didn’t understand my fears. He was of the belief that you are who you are and who you are makes you the person you need to be. I’m forty-eight. It feels that my whole life has been wasted on a huge lie. I’ve deceived myself. I desperately need to stop the deception.”

  I was never a great talker. I stopped talking and the group said nothing for a few nanoseconds. It seemed they hung on every word I had spoken.

  Pete stood up. “That’s quite a story, both of you, Isaac and Gregory. This group was established to get to know not only ourselves, because as we meet and go on our own personal excursions, you’ll find our stories are all different. The one thing we all have in common is that we want to be ourselves and to hell what other people think. We seek light and nothing in-between. Thank you for sharing. Berthold has made us coffee and Rudolph brought cookies. If you need something stronger, I have whiskey and brandy and there’s coke in the fridge. Please help yourselves and our next meet up will be at Dirk’s house in Waterkloof.”

  We left around ten because Dirk had to work in the morning. He never said a darned thing on the way. It felt uncomfortable.

  “You’re very quiet,” I said, glancing his way.

  “Sorry. I’m far away. Did you enjoy the evening?” he said, concentrating on the road ahead.

  “They’re fine people. Felt a little uncomfortable telling them my story, but I’m fine now.”

  “We all have to do that. It’s like a kind of bonding. You saw how different everyone is. They come from all walks of life. They don’t judge and they have each other in common. So next Thursday the meet up is at my place and I hope you’re going to be there. It’s only a few doors away.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  He turned the corner into our street and stopped at my house.

  “Thanks for a great evening, Dirk.”

  “Thank you for coming along. I’ll speak to you soon.”

  I turned and walked up the steps to my front door and just before opening it, Dirk called me. I went back to the car and he rolled down his window.

  “I need to get something off my chest. I was a prick in the Congo. I want to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I hope you don’t hold that against me.”

  “Dirk, I wouldn’t have gone out with you tonight if I felt threatened by you. I enjoyed your company. Stop stressing about it.”

  “See you,” he smiled.

  “Cheers buddy.”

  ***

  The following day I built up enough courage to visit Shane. Unannounced. The very worst thing I could do. But if it was the only way to get hold of him and thrash this whole thing out, then it needed to be done. He lived in Morningside, north of Johannesburg in a quaint white house surrounded by a high wall and electric fence. I pressed the buzzer and a woman answered.

  “Hi, I’m looking for Shane.”

  “Shane’s not in. He had a doctor’s appointment. Who is this?”

  “Gregory.”

  “Gregory? Are you the guy Shane met at Canton’s Cottage?”

  “Yes. It’s me.”

  “Hold on, I’ll let you in.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just a moment.”

  The security gate clicked open . I pushed my hair back and straightened out my pants and shirt. She stood at the front door and I shook her hand.

  “Come in,” she said, shaking my hand and leading me inside.

  “Shane told me all about you.”

  “Good things I hope.”

  “All good.”

  “I’ve been trying to get hold of him for the last week but he ignores my calls and texts.”

  “That’s because his cell phone was stolen on his way back from the mountains.”

  “I thought he didn’t want to see me.”

  “He’s been frantically trying to find all his old numbers and re-entering them into his phone. He’s not the same.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He feels he might have lost that something special he had with you.”

  “He said that?”

  “He said you’d think he wants nothing to do with you and he couldn’t cope with that. He didn’t know how to make contact with you or Edward.”

  “Damn! I should have come sooner. What time will he be back?”

  “”Not for a coup
le of hours. We’re expecting his new phone tomorrow.”

  “Please, take my number down. Or I could send it to your phone right now. Pleased tell him I desperately need to see him. Will you?”

  “Of course. Seems like you guys really hit it off. He can’t stop talking about you.”

  I immediately sent my number to Beryl’s phone and I thanked her. Went to a coffee bar in the Mall of Africa, hoping he’d call me soon.

  Shane

  “I know I shouldn’t be prying, detective. But whoever did this to you has no depth of feeling.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “You’re torn inside. Nothing that can’t be fixed. Looks like this person didn’t use lubrication. It’s a small operation, about an hour. I can schedule you for tomorrow morning at the Bedfordview Clinic.”

  “It won’t heal without the operation?”

  “It will. But any kind of anal sex from here on in will be extremely painful.”

  “Do what you must, doctor.”

  The day passed quickly and most of the time all I could think about was Gregory and the unfortunate series of events that led to our downfall.

  Firstly, I had only known him for two weeks. Where do two people meet and fall in love within two weeks? It shouldn’t happen. The entire thing was premature. An infatuation.

  Everything that happened to us must have happened for a reason. My cell phone got stolen. That meant I couldn’t get hold of him, and he couldn’t get hold of me. The more I thought about the whole series of unfortunate events, the more I believed that a reason existed.

  Maybe it was for the best.

  No matter how many thousands of thoughts entered my head, I felt Gregory, I saw him, tasted him. And no matter how many times I tried to shake him from my mind, he was consistently stubborn and wouldn’t leave me be.

  I wanted so desperately to be with him.

  I didn’t want anyone else.

  Only I could make that happen.

  I had no idea that it would be harder said than done and took my frustration out on the punching bag at Raw’s boxing academy.

  After battling it out with the punching bag I walked past reception to the change rooms when I spotted Raw and he called me over.

  “When are you getting your new cell phone?” He asked.

  “Tomorrow, via courier.”

  I must have grimaced when the pain, like a sharp knife, went through my body.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. It’s. It’s okay. I’m okay. Just a cramp.”

  “That didn’t sound like just a cramp, Shane. What’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing, really.”

  Raw grabbed my hand and led me into Curisco’s refurbished office.

  “Sit down.”

  “I told you it’s nothing.”

  “Shane, you know better than to keep things from me and Edward. I watched you pounding that punching bag. Do you know that you were actually screaming at it?”

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “Everyone else noticed.”

  “Joe.”

  “Joe?”

  “He hurt me, Raw.”

  “Hurt you?”

  “He forced himself on me and tore me.”

  “Christ almighty. Did you make a case against him?”

  “No. The man is dying. I can’t do that to a man whose days are numbered. I went to the specialist this morning. He tore me so bad I’m bleeding inside. They’re operating tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh man. I’m so sorry, Shane.”

  “No need. Thanks anyway.”

  “Do you want to call Gregory? I have his number on my phone. Do you want to phone him and explain about your phone?”

  “I’d love that.”

  He pressed the quick dial and handed me his phone. I waited a few moments but there was no answer.

  “Leave a text message.”

  I texted him quickly. Hey Colonel. It’s Shane. My phone’s lost. Just checking in. Will make contact with you soon. Love you.

  I waited for raw to finish for the day and when we got home after six.

  Beryl had dinner ready for three.

  “You had a visitor today,” she said.

  “Who?”

  “Gregory. He left his number. Phone him as soon as you can.”

  “Gregory was here?”

  “In the flesh.”

  Raw said, “Phone him, like now. He should be home.”

  My heart pounded wildly. I took Beryl’s phone and a few moments later I was talking to the warmest, most welcoming voice I had ever heard.

  “I’m sorry I missed you. How are you?” I said.

  “So good to hear your voice. I thought I had lost you.”

  “That’s not going to happen. Beryl, you met her, she told you about my cell phone? I lost it or it got stolen.”

  “She said so. I’m going crazy here. Shane, I need to see you.”

  “I’d like nothing better.”

  “Tomorrow, can you make it?”

  “Can’t. I have to have a small operation tomorrow. I’m going to be flat on my back.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing the doc can’t fix, Colonel. I have an even better idea. Raw’s gym. How about we meet on Sunday at the gym?”

  “I’ll be there. Send me the address. What time will you be there?”

  “Between ten and twelve.”

  “Perfect. I can’t wait to see you. I miss you.”

  “I miss you and love you Gregory Basye Sander.”

  Shane ended the call and handed the phone back to Beryl.

  “Shane,” she said, woe filed her voice.

  “Beryl.”

  “I just need some clarification. Is Joe supposed to be in Bloemfontein?”

  “Yes. Closing another real estate deal.”

  “Then who is this?”

  She showed him the image she had saved and after a few moments received an untypical response.

  “What the fuck?”

  “This morning I took a drive to the Killarney Mall. You know how I love coffee shops and bookstores. Half my room is a walk-in bookshelf. I sat at a window table of the bookshop paging through a Nora Roberts romance while absentmindedly stirring my coffee. For a moment I looked up and stared out the window at the early Christmas shoppers when I spotted Joe emerging from the restaurant across the corridor.

  I looked again just to make sure it was him. I recognised his bouncing walk and the shaved neckline. To my surprise he was with someone, and this guy leaned in for kiss and a hug. That’s when I snapped this. Blond. Casually dressed in a black jacket, white t-shirt and blue jeans. They held hands for a few moments and Joe kissed him again, not just a quick friendly peck, more like a lingering kiss, then he turned and waved goodbye. I quickly snapped up the books I bought earlier and left cash on the table for the coffee, then dashed out into the corridor. I followed him from a distance and he looked around to wave at his partner. I dashed into a cell phone shop and waited a second before following him.

  As far as I’m concerned, Joe was supposed to be on a business trip in Bloemfontein. Closing a deal. That’s what he had told us and that’s what I believed.

  I continued following him to the exit and into the parking lot. Sure enough, he approached his white SUV and within a few minutes reversed and drove away, up the ramp to street level. Do you recognise this other man in the photo?”

  “I don’t know who the other guy is,” I said, confusion crossed my face.

  Beryl shrugged. “Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation.”

  “If I ask I know he’ll get violent. I don’t want that.”

  “Not if I do the asking.”

  “He’s back in two days.”

  “Clearly he’s not in Bloemfontein.”

  “Apparently not. But why is he lying?”

  “We’ll find out.”

  “Do you think he’s seeing someone?”

  “Anything’s possible with Joe. We won’t know u
ntil he tells us. Anyway, what did the doc say?”

  “My worst fear. I’m torn inside. He wants to operate tomorrow. Can it be so soon?”

  “If it’s serious, yes.”

  “I need to be at Bedfordview Clinic tomorrow at nine. The op is at eleven.”

  “He knows what’s best, Shane. You’re looking a little pale, maybe you should get some rest before tomorrow.”

  “I am sore. I’ll go upstairs and get some shut eye.” He headed for the staircase.

  “Later then. I’m making Spaghetti Bolognese tonight.”

  “Sounds lovely. See you later.”

  “Later, bro.”

  His bedroom door closed and Beryl opened the image again, stared long and hard at it thinking how deceitful Joe had turned out.

  Her cell rang loudly. She answered immediately.

  “Hi, Beryl. It’s Gregory. How are you?”

  “Gregory. I’m fine thank you.”

  “Can I ask you something but please don’t tell Shane.”

  “That depends.”

  “All I want to know is which hospital and what time is the operation.”

  “Bedfordview Clinic and the time ten thirty.”

  “Please don’t tell Shane I asked. I’d like to be with him.”

  “I won’t say a word. Thank you, Gregory.”

  Gregory

  I received the call just as I finished my conversation with Beryl. “Hi Colonel. It’s Sergeant Ellen Mojani. I’m General Miyani’s personal assistant.”

  I frowned. First thing that entered my mind was the word “Trouble.”

  “Hi, Sergeant. How can I help you?”

  “The General would like to have a meeting with you tomorrow morning, Colonel.”

  “I’m on leave, Sergeant.”

  “The general is aware of that. He insists this is urgent, Colonel. He’d like to see you at eight tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Urgent meant a new mission somewhere in the world. Most probably the Congo again. Seems like we wasted so many years on that place.

  I was seeing Dirk tonight at the group meet-up and made a mental note to find out from Dirk if he knew anything about this. If it was a mission, he would have seen the memo already.

  ***