Page 55 of Don't Point at the Moon

“Let them work things out, Tommy. By the way, someone’s waving at you.”

Tommy turned to where Mitchell pointed.

“Shelly.”

Tommy had been on more junk trips than he cared to remember. Varnished teak structures were a regular sight—usually at weekends—bobbing about in the harbour, taking partygoers to various destinations, including the outlying islands. Somebody, probably one of the show’s producers, had secured a more modern boat. Shelly smiled a little too mischievously as they stepped aboard. Before he had a chance to ask, she began showing them around, starting in the galley below deck, a small room with a fridge and eskies—cooler boxes—full of cold drinks, an adjoining washroom and cooking facilities where the crew would be knocking up a range of food.

Most importantly, she told them, both the main and the upper levels had plenty of cover from the sun, the main deck with fixed bench seating and tables, the upper with foam-filled mats. After the tour, Zane was called away by three of his theatre friends seated in the main deck. Shelly finally led them to the upper deck, where they found Alec standing at the prow, taking a phone call, facing out to sea like a superhero figurehead.

Tommy gaped at his broad, muscular back, down the deep ridge of his spine and to his slim waist. He’d let his blond hair flow out that day, sun-bleached and reaching his shoulders.

“Isn’t he a sight for sore eyes,” said Shelly. “Blond Aquaman. Swims in the hotel pool every morning so he already had those orange budgie-smugglers with him. And I found some accessories buried in the costume and props box at school, dark green gauntlets from a Robin Hood production and that thick black belt. His legs are covered in green body paint and he asked me to brush in lines to represent fish scales. What do you think?”

“Hope you didn’t use a permanent marker,” said Mitchell.

Tommy snorted but then looked quizzically at Mitchell, who had been staring at Alec, unsmiling. Had that been a joke, or was he annoyed? Just then Alec turned and produced an award-winning smile before pointing at his phone to let him know he was busy and giving them a thumbs-up.

“I should have,” sighed Shelly. “Once we reach Sai Kung, he’ll be straight in the sea and all my beautiful handiwork will be washed away. Loving your outfit, by the way. Now, while Alec finishes his call, I have a surprise for Mitchell. This way.”

Shelly led them back down to the main deck, to the back of the boat, the stern, which appeared empty apart from a couple of older people seated on the farthest bench, one in a wheelchair. Tommy wondered what Shelly wanted to show them until, next to him, Mitchell’s voice called out in surprise.

“Harold? William?”

William turned around first and waved them over. Tommy did not appreciate being summoned. Mitchell didn’t hesitate and headed straight across, leaving Tommy with Shelly.

“Why are they here?” he asked, unable to keep the annoyance from this tone. “I thought this was for the theatre group and friends, for them to get to know one another.”

“Harold stumped up for the boat, the food and the drink. They’ve even provided a small motorboat and one of those inflatable banana thingies. How could I not invite the two of them? If I’m going to be honest, I didn’t think they’d come.”

“In which case,” said Tommy, after an exaggerated sigh, “I suppose I have no choice but to say thank you. Get the pleasantries out of the way.”

Tommy had never warmed to Harold. He’d meant what he’d said about finding Harold and his people judgemental and elitist. And he had never met anyone quite as pessimistic as William. At least his own group of gay friends—however superficial a person might think them—knew how to have fun out there in the world, running around and joining in, rather than sitting and judging or criticising from the sidelines like Harold and his cronies.

“Tommy Chow,” said Harold. As he approached, Tommy realised Harold was seated in his electric wheelchair. He used a lever to turn the chair and assess Tommy. “How are you? I must say, of all the nautical costumes I’ve seen so far, yours gets my vote. Crisp, clean and muscular with a tantalising hint ofQuerelle.”

Tommy smiled, even though he had no idea what Harold meant. “Thank you, Harold. And I’m doing fine. More to the point, how are you?”

Harold sighed with distaste. “Let’s not talk about me. Mitchell tells me you helped get his nephew involved in this new play with people his own age. That was very kind of you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. He’s helping us out. We need as many hands as possible backstage. And he’s already a hit with the rest of the gang.”

“I noticed that, too,” said Mitchell. “He went straight off with them as soon as we arrived. I’ve no idea why his mother thinks he’s such a loner.”

“Maybe he just found his people,” said Tommy. “I noticed him hanging around the same group at rehearsals this week.”

“Do you think he might be having a little holiday romance?” asked Harold. “How delicious.”

“Oh, heavens,” said Mitchell. “Thanks for putting that thought in my head. As if I don't already have enough to worry about.”

“Bad week, dear?” asked Harold.

“Let’s just enjoy the day,” said Mitchell cryptically.

And the day could not have turned out better. A gentle breeze rolled in from the South China Sea, tempering the heat and humidity. They set sail into the choppy waters of Victoria Harbour and made their way out to sea, following the headland towards Sai Kung Country Park. Only a few of the youngsters attempted to stagger from deck to deck as they left the harbour, the junk tossed around like a toy boat in the wake of larger vessels. At their destination, three similar sized sailboats moored a few hundred feet from the sandy beach. Tommy had visited the location once after a typhoon when the water had been a murky grey peppered with washed-up flotsam. Today, with barely a wave disturbing the surface, the sea sparkled blue, clean and inviting.

Harold had spared no expense with the experience. Once the crew anchored the junk, the kitchen staff served various drinks and barbecued foods, including meats, seafood and vegetarian options. Large trays of garlic bread and assorted salads accompanied the main food. They had even conjured huge aluminium trays of lasagne and stir-fried rice.

After eating and chatting with Shelly, Tommy wandered the decks to find Alec holding court with a group of youngsters that included Zane. Tommy stopped to listen momentarily as Alec captivated his audience with stories about his travel business and his various touch-and-go experiences. When Alec spotted Tommy, he seemed relieved. After a few words, he stood andexcused himself from the group. Many seated took this as an opportunity to get up, and the group began to disperse. Alone with Alec, Tommy’s brain went mush before shutting down completely. Alec brought the remainder of his plate of food with him and led them to an empty built-in bench backing onto a window of the galley kitchen. Nobody else was around.

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