‘Yes, but if I was you I wouldn’t open that door.’
Auntie Pat backed off.
‘Your parents are devastated. They thought they had taught you the difference between what was right and what was wrong.’
I lost my temper.
‘All this business about what was right and what was wrong. What a man was and wasn’t. It never left enough room, Auntie, for the man I was, the man I am. You’ve seen how Dad is. I grew up being told by him how I was supposed to be, what I was supposed to be. I could never live up to what he wanted. Being Maori was so hard! I suppose that’s its triumph. But when I left home, to find myself someplace where the prohibitions weren’t as strong, I think I failed the test.’
Auntie Pat waited for me to calm down. Then she slipped a question in under my skin and opened me up.
‘What matters most to you, Michael? Being Maori, or being gay?’
For a moment I was taken aback. I didn’t know how to answer. All my life I had been Maori. Who knows? All my life I had probably been gay as well. One was affirmative, something to be proud about. The other was negative, something to be ashamed of.
‘I don’t believe any of us should be made to choose, Auntie. So far I’ve always been what everyone wanted me to be. But there comes a time when you can’t lie to yourself. It’s not a matter of choice. I am who I am. And because of what I’ve done I’ve lost my parents — and I could be losing my boyfriend because I was too scared to do it earlier.’
Auntie Pat paused. Then she took a deep breath.
‘Okay, Michael, I’m beginning to understand. And you were right to be afraid. Now, so help me God, show me your world.’
Luckily, Roimata was home when I telephoned her.
‘Can you come clubbing tonight? I’ve got a visitor from out of town.’
Roimata laughed. ‘Someone for you or someone for me! I was going to wash my hair and go to bed early but for you — let’s do it.’
‘Good. We’ll pick you up in half an hour.’
Auntie Pat and I arrived at Roimata’s and found her dressed to kill. She always had great style but going clubbing brought out the wicked in her. She liked to dress in something tight, where you could push things up and squeeze things in, and then perch it all on the highest heels possible. But she didn’t seem too pleased when I made the introductions.
‘We’re going clubbing with your Auntie?’
‘Auntie Pat’s not that old,’ I answered, defensive. ‘Fifty, I think.’
‘It’s not her age that’s the problem,’ Roimata said. ‘Just look at her! Twinset and pearls? We’ll have to do something.’
Her face cleared. I knew that look only too well and had learnt to avoid Roimata when she had it. But how was Auntie Pat to know? So that when Roimata asked her brightly, ‘Would you like a drink?’ and then promptly spilled the lot down the front of the offending cardigan, Auntie Pat really thought it was an accident.
‘Oh, my God. I’m so sorry!’
‘That’s okay,’ Auntie Pat said. ‘I’ve got another one back at Michael’s flat —’
‘Why waste time going back there? I’m sure I’ve got something that will fit.’
Off came the twinset and pearls and, before Auntie Pat could even move, on went a black crewneck over which Roimata threw my leather jacket. Then a fast makeover on Auntie Pat’s face, some hair gel and heavy eyeliner, and voila!
‘I can’t go out looking like this!’ Auntie Pat protested. ‘If someone from home sees me they’ll think I’m butch.’
Roimata pursed her lips.
‘Precisely.’ She looked at me and jabbed me in the ribs. ‘The reason why Michael asked me to come along is so that people will think you belong to me. Isn’t it, Michael, dear!’
It took Auntie Pat a while to figure that one out. Then the light dawned.
‘Is Roimata the female version of you?’
‘A lesbian? Yes.’
Auntie Pat turned to Roimata.
‘But, dear, you’re so pretty!’
As it happened, the places Roimata and I took Auntie Pat were so dark that it wouldn’t have mattered what she wore. At The Hellfire Club the DJ was pumping the volume high, the strobe lights were making laser strikes through the dark and Cher, recently risen like an incredible Lazarus, was singing her heart out. The song was one of Roimata’s favourites, and she was eager to get out into the middle of the dance floor.
‘You go ahead,’ I said. ‘I’ll get us some drinks.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Auntie Pat said. She looked like she was ready to bolt and go back to her safe little house in Gisborne.
‘Oh, no you don’t!’ Roimata answered.
Before Auntie Pat could say another word Roimata had pulled her into the seething mass. For a moment I watched, grinning, as a couple of guys, who had taken off their shirts, twirled Auntie Pat around in their arms before releasing her to Roimata. One of them, shaven-headed and with a strong Slavic face, saw me and winked back. He motioned me over to join him and his friend but I put up my hands.
Thanks, but not tonight.
He smiled ruefully, then went back to dancing, waving his shirt in the air above the crowd.
I ordered at the bar and worked my way around the dance floor. Far over in one corner I saw Graham, Jason’s friend. When he saw me he made a great show of turning his back.
Two can play that game.
Every now and then I caught glimpses of Auntie Pat and Roimata. At first Auntie Pat seemed stunned, as if one of the laser strikes had brought her down. The next time I saw her, it seemed Roimata had persuaded her not to just stand there but, well, to move something. She was dancing with what, for her, was considerable abandon.
‘Is one of those water?’
A voice yelled in my left ear. I looked around. The shaven-headed guy from the dance floor had joined me. Close up he was taller than I expected. He’d put his shirt back on, using it as a towel and rubbing it against his skin to dry himself off. Compact build. Still boogying to the music.
‘Sure.’
I passed the guy the glass. He held it above his head, letting the water trickle over his face and down his neck. The lasers illuminated the water limning his profile with green fire. Some of the water spilled over his lips and he licked the water in with his tongue. Then he looked at me.
‘You’re usually here with another guy. Is this going to be my lucky night?’
Direct. To the point.
I could have said, Yes, and allowed the exchange to go to the next level. Instead I shook my head.
‘I’m with somebody.’
The guy shrugged. Ah well, you win some, you lose some. Then he gave a huge devastating grin.
‘The name’s Carlos,’ he said. He pointed a finger at me and wagged it sternly. ‘Remember it!’
Then Carlos was gone, back onto the dance floor, scattering the lights with his exuberance.
Auntie Pat and Roimata appeared.
‘Shame on you, Auntie,’ I said. ‘How dare you enjoy yourself. You’ll go straight to Purgatory.’
‘Oh, leave her alone,’ Roimata answered. ‘She’s having the time of her life.’
‘There are men here actually dancing with women!’ Auntie Pat said.
‘Lots of people come just to dance and have a good time. Here you can do anything you want to do, be anyone you want to be. It’s called freedom. Be careful, it can be contagious.’
‘Oh, let’s not waste any time talking,’ Roimata interrupted. She pulled both of us back on the floor. Auntie Pat must have been a rock and roller from way back.
‘Go, Girl!’ Roimata laughed.
For a brief moment, my eyes connected with Auntie Pat’s and I smiled at her.