I’m Back — Not Hollywood, but Humewood! — By Rubin van Niekerk

Arriving back at Driftsands Drive, Stuart was horrified about my weight loss and terrible physical state. Old photographs of this period look rather sexy to me, if you’re into young, anaemic guys on crutches who need a helping hand! 

Stuart instantly became mother to my mother’s relief.  I was so used to my freedom with Stuart that we both had to adjust to our new roles. Normally he simply required my quiet independence and willingness to double up as a bodyguard, parent guardian and Yah- Yah, the aquatic fat Corgi’s lifesaver. Now, his empathic alter ego took me by surprise. Neither anticipated this scenario. Role reversal was unthinkable for us. My frailty was not something either of us expected when I was super fit and only aged 21 when I was at my most bullet proof.  Stuart saw beyond my armour and I saw beyond his. Sharing this wavelength escalated a growing friendship into becoming soulmates. 

It took a while to adjust to Stuart’s surprisingly protective alter ego. This newly discovered, Stuart, faffing over me was endearing and sweet. He kept his soft side invisible from prying eyes that would have exposed his own vulnerabilities. Once more, I encountered another Alien who understood the way I see the world. We were on the same wavelength emotionally, sexually and intellectually.

 Meeting someone sharing intentional isolation is like finding an oasis in the desert.” My injury probably triggered Stuart’s unusual reaching out to me. We experienced this “Eureka” moment together. Its rarity ensured a lifelong joyous and nostalgic bond. 

It was a beautiful, vulnerable paradox where two people stepped beyond isolation to reach out to each other. A bit like “ET phone home” Deeply touching. This sense of relief that you are not the only Alien comes with the pre-cognition that everything passes. Every moment matters. You almost brace yourself for some unknown life altering impact breaking this unique soulmate bond. 

This saddened me deeply as I realised as much as my adventure with Marc had altered my life, we just did not connect on these levels. Our passion was intense but remained within explicable boundaries as so much remained unsaid. I missed Marc awfully and my abandonment of him made me feel even more guilty. Leaving him all alone to cope with his fate in that spooky Somerset hospital felt cruel and insensitive on my part. I lost control of my fate and the external forces taking charge of my destiny at that point at Mouille Point. 

Back on Terra, Mother hen Stuart was faffing sympathetically the whole time. Nothing was too much trouble, and he gladly helped me with most things. Needing assistance to bathe took some getting used to. I was not quite convinced that Stuart was all that reluctant to take control of something so personal or relishing my slight embarrassment. After Sandy Bay and living with John Dennison during my working vacation nudity after all was supposed to be natural to me. I wondered whether I was a true convert! Wryness and hypocrisy were lurking in the layered shadows.

Objections were ignored and I just obeyed as I lost an enormous amount of blood and my red blood cell count was very low. I had no strength or energy and simply surrendered. I went onto a smoothie diet of carrot and pineapple to help me recover, as I lost my appetite. Fortunately, it was still university vacation, and I had some time to recoup before starting the new semester and my job as a university proctor and tutor. Once again, on crutches.

I still looked like an underfed vampire for a while due to anaemia. My mother’s smoothies seemed incredible for fast recovery as I got my colour back alongside my rebellious streak. 

Their kindness and compassion forced me to tolerate dependence and restrain my instinctive nature to act independently. I had encountered someone who understood me at a profound level. Unfortunately, I still had two bloody RSMs telling me what to do. 

Both my self-appointed Regimental Sergeant Majors from the Maternal Regiment and Mentor Regiment would need to be subtly subordinated while I slithered quietly passing their obstinacy, like Kaa, the hypnotic python from “Jungle Book.”

My physical weakness encouraged my mother to intervene whether I liked it or not. Out of maternal concern of course. Stuart surprised me as I never thought of him as someone who would be so nurturant. It was touching and made me swell up emotionally. I had a tough life where I learned survival skills at age 9 already. Being dependent was not one of them.  Hold fire. 

Soon my cast was removed and could shower and swim. Swimming as physiotherapy accelerated my recovery at an unbelievable speed and I regained full independence in a few weeks. Neither could the RSMs deny seeing my fast recovery, defusing obstinacy from any of us. I still walked with crutches, but my right leg was unaffected, allowing me to kickstart my DT 125 to life. Naturally I was desperate to ride again which I did. I was well practiced in the art of riding a motorcycle with crutches even while recovering from injury that impaired your mobility. 

Frankly I desperately needed my social life back on track. Isn’t it annoying how friends tend to vanish as soon as you are sick or injured? Once hobbling along at Andrews the Funky new club in town again, friends feigned disbelief that I was still perfectly fine and not handicapped physically or intellectually as they thought. Doing three hours of intense physio swimming exercise strengthened me to the levels I was at before the accident. My weaker legs allowed my arms and shoulders to compensate so I was in superbly good shape. Skinnier maybe, but you can never be too skinny in tight fitting denims on a dance floor in a gay club. Crutches looked absurd so I tried dancing without them and discovered it was more a mental handicap than anything else. Having an admiring audience certainly helped! I was not ready for any intense entanglements and craved shallowness for a bit. Friends with benefits seemed safe and I discovered some to my devilish delight. 

Music has always been a crucial backdrop to my romantic encounters. Even if it was simply friends with benefits, I could not resist the urge to create a dramatic ambience with candles or gentle raindrops on a roof. Frikkie, a twink, and fellow student who was as much a romantic as I one day created the most incredible setting at sunset in his flat to introduce me to OXYGENE composed by Jean Michel – Jarre. This electronic musical form was completely alien to me, yet I became quite obsessed with it. During university Frikkie would mostly visit when it was raining and naturally OXYGENE would immediately set the stage for another cuddle session.  Frikkie was cute and bright and passed with flying colours, irrespective of his romantic liaisons that were never rushed. Being a cuddle bunny, it was his singular most enduring trait. 

Besides teaching me to appreciate Jean Michel- Jarre as intensely as he did. Even now while I’m writing and listening to it once more, I can hear the gentle pit pat of raindrops on the roof, except that there are none. Frikkie became a musical mentor to me about two years older than me and we are still in contact. An underlying thread of my romantic liaisons is that I am unable to just say, “Bon Voyage” I would rather say “auf Wieder Sehn.” 

There were of course other friends with benefits that meant a lot to me. A few Greys hung around, but it was symbiotic encounters sans the baggage. Some of my fellow lifesavers turned out rather kinky and preferred dangerous encounters at Kings Beach Lifesaving club. Mostly dolphinesque guys I rescued with my full nelson Nelsons in a Rubber Duck! Getting carried away in the showers with someone you fancied was a little too bold for me. 

My new life as a Proctor and Tutor came with its own challenges prior to my physical recovery and I had to stand in front of class with my crutches. My topics were bold and covered the most confrontational concepts I knew barely enough about but it still shocked my students to my satisfaction. Most of the young men had just done military service and some managed to complete junior leader courses where the brightest would become officers. Most would end up as corporals, becoming bullies. As someone who had not done my military conscription yet, they detested taking orders from a “roof” like me. It meant rookie or newbie who still had to overcome many hurdles before gaining acceptance.  They were openly insubordinate which annoyed me and I could not pull rank as I had none! Debating with me was guaranteed. I relished in flattening them as I guess I still harboured too much anger with myself after my bike accident with Marc. Ventilation was necessary and therapeutic. They were perfect targets, stronger and older, but brainwashed.  All these confrontational debates on highly sensitive topics like homosexuality and sending the status quo to hell attracted some attention from the University.

The popularity of my classes kept me on board for now. Students from other classes would bunk theirs to attend mine even when we ran out of sitting room and they would squash into the aisles. Some probably prayed for my defeat in a debate which would never happen as I knew my topics too well. My FORBIDDEN EDUCATION aged 15 gave me a massive advantage as there was no forbidden topic I did not know something about. At least enough to convincingly flatten any JARHEAD! Older or not. The girls adored me and became my allies in these thoroughly enjoyable debates which even the “Ou Manne” enjoyed. Girls openly flirted with me as I guess my fragility with fangs turned them on! On this note I did cover S&M into one of my early classes. Due to popular demand students started arriving earlier to get seating room and I inevitably arrived after them appearing fluffy haired and out of breath after using four legs at high speed!

 “Today, we are going to discuss S&M and everything that makes you cringe” I said in one of my classes which stirred the hornets’ nest. “Johann, you enjoy these debates as much as I do, so please share one of your favourite kinks with us” Johan stammered, “I don’t have any kinks…” That sounds terribly vanilla in fact vanillaesque would probably describe it better, Johann” I replied.

“Are there anybody in this vanilla class that have at least some sense of adventurism in a society radiant with shades of grey. If it makes it easier you could simply refer to it as a curiosity, so keeping your vanilla nature safe behind a white picket fence,” I suggested.

A hesitant hand was raised in the packed class. “Ah’ Lucille thank you! Please share your thoughts with us” I asked. “I have a friend who likes the idea of bondage. I guess it sounds kind of kinky and must admit I have often wondered about it. Not that I’m into it naturally!” She lied and blushed… Touche, Madamoiselle. 

 “Has anybody experienced bondage,” I asked. Total silence followed and you could hear a pin drop. Several guys were drooling at Lucille who was a pretty brunette. Petite and curvy enough, to attract even my attention. Besides she often fluttered her eyes at me making me wish I had long eye lashes to flutter back! Beating on my chest seemed more like the thing some of my class would do.   

“OK, let me break the ice to you, most respondents on anonymous sexual behaviour and fantasy surveys freely admit to having tried or wanted to try various sexual kinks. Statistically most of you are no different even though you are too inhibited to share your fantasies in front of the class.” I commented.

“Seeing that this makes you uncomfortable, I confess that I brought the topic up because I find it fascinating and fantasy worthy. “Kinks tickle me, as it is a form of freedom of expression or at least sexual expression. Some of the kinks I wonder about are bondage, whips, handcuffs and why do we do it. The idea of a Dominatrix or a Master in command has some curiosity provoking elements, don’t you think?” I asked. Suddenly the class erupted with comments and questions all at once and a sudden urge to prove they were not so vanilla after all!

I smiled and thought, Gotcha! Now I’m either getting sacked or ending up in someone’s sack. 

I stood there on my crutches, grinning at the chaos I had created. 

This was university as I loved it: provocative, irreverent and gloriously free. I could hobble into class on four legs, open Pandora’s box and watch an entire room of supposedly respectable young people scramble to climb inside it. 

For now, I had my freedom, my friends, my nightlife and a university full of forbidden subjects to explore. 

I had absolutely no idea how temporary that freedom was. 

This is a brief excerpt from Rubin van Niekerk’s upcoming Memoir/Autobiography, titled Mentors, Family and Friends Matter, chronicling the people, places and experiences that shaped his life from early childhood to later adulthood. We all relate to this universal experience.

New chapters will be published regularly in the Magazine section of the landing page of Gay Pages website, alongside our favourite archived articles, as the journey unfolds. Chapter 13, “Enjoying my student life and backpacking through Europe” follows.