The Sandman Pt. 01

FIRST ENCOUNTERS

I've been going out with Tracey for over six months and just recently her best friend, Kim asked me to write about how we got together. Kim is doing her thesis on sexual fluidity and is looking for source material from gay friends and from people who are in gay relationships but might not identify as gay. So, here I am sitting with a blank page and the memory of that warm May night, 2016 when an openly gay woman got together with an avowedly straight woman at Dromana drive in. She's asked Tracey to write about her experiences as well but seeing as I've got a couple of days off I thought I'd start first.

For the record, my name is Charlene Rosie, Charlie to my friends. I'm an ambo with Ambulance Victoria, it's a job I love despite the fact that our job usually involves tragic situations. It keeps me in the here and now, we never know when a car overtaking on a bend is going to take us out, so why spend your days worrying about the things you haven't got? Make the most of life, grab it with both hands and shake the shit out of it because you don't know how long you've got.

I live in Dromana with my mum, Janis, and her boyfriend, Alex. Mum owns a hair salon in town and Alex has his own garage. He found the Holden Sandman that I drive now and because I'm a hands on girl, I helped him restore it. The Sandman was one of those genius Aussie ideas that comes along once in a generation. It started life as a generic Holden panel van and had a few extras added. The rear compartment had an opening leading to the front seat, a fancy paint job, V8 option and mag wheels. It dominated the surfer community during the '70s because you could strap surfboards to a roof rack and sleep in the rear cargo compartment. Mine is a HX Sandman that has been completely rebuilt twice in its lifetime.

Friday, May 27th is particularly memorable for me. It was the day I got together with Tracey and as luck would have it we actually bumped into each other at mum's salon in town. I was in getting my hair done and Tracey was already there as well. I admit I noticed her then and there, one of mum's girls was fussing over her and talking about her boyfriend, her plans for the weekend and whatever else popped into her head. Tracey was only half listening and seemed more intent on tapping out text messages. I guess that's what caught my eye first, her apparent distance from the world about her and then I noticed her slim, petite figure and long brown hair. I put her at about nineteen or twenty and thought she was cute, little did I realise we'd meet again some eight hours later at Dromana drive in.

Now I wasn't supposed to be at the drive in. The reason I got my hair done was because I was heading out to see Sandy's Destroyers play at the Pier hotel in Frankston but later that afternoon Sandy texted to tell me that the gig was called off. Apparently some idiot had double booked that night and so the band was taking the night off. I actually asked her to come with me to the drive in but she had already arranged to meet some woman at a club in the city.

Dromana has one of the last remaining drive in theatres in Melbourne. There are literally only three left and so I like to support it because I've always been a sucker for drive ins. Because I was going on my own I really didn't pay much attention to my wardrobe, I threw on a white tee shirt, jeans and matching denim jacket and my favourite white trainers. I was looking for the relaxed casual look because I just wanted to chill out for the night.

I heard Tracey before I saw her. She was yelling at her boyfriend as I walked up to Shel's Diner to get my usual hot dogs and Coke.

"Just piss off," she yelled.

I came around the corner then and was nearly bowled over by a big guy in a Southern Comfort tee shirt and jeans.

"Hey, I'm going," he held his phone up, "text me when you change your mind."

"I won't," she yelled back, "and watch out for those booze buses."

"Yeah? You gonna tell your old man as well?"

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't."

She looked at me then and seemed to recognise me but said nothing as the manager came out with a second cup of Coke, the first was on the table and I saw a heap of ice cubes on the ground nearby. She was wearing the same clothes she'd worn that morning, a white blouse, blue jeans and a grey, checked jacket with black lapels, the black cuffs were folded back. A pair of white sandals completed the outfit. She took the cup from the manager, who then moved to block my view as he said something to her. I carried on inside and eventually got my order of a hot dog and Coke, the manager was the one who opened the door for me some ten minutes later. She was still there, sitting on the bench with her back to the table. Imran had a smug look on his face.

"Got her phone number," he murmured, "while you see a chance, take it."

I congratulated Imran on his 'win' and moved away, I chanced a look over my shoulder as I headed towards the table but he was looking the other way. Imran is a good looking guy, his parents are Pakistani and he makes the most of his smouldering good looks. I had no illusions he'd had an effect on Tracey because she had a smirk on her face as she sent another text.

"You all right?"

She looked across at me and smiled tightly.

"Yeah, thanks for asking," her eyes shifted slightly, "didn't I see you this morning?"

"Yeah, at mum's salon," I replied.

"Oh," she studied me, "she was the one doing your hair?"

"That's right," I flicked at it, mum had shortened the length so that now it just nudged my collar in a loose bob style.

"It looks nice," she smiled.

"Thanks," I perched on the bench beside her, "so, what was all that about?"

"He's being a dick," she replied, "he wanted to mix Southern with his Coke but I'm not about to let him drive me home half pissed and I can't drive his car because he thinks I'll dent it."

"Well he might dent it yet if he's drinking."

"I said the same thing," she chuckled, "which is when he told me to get my own ride home."

"He left you here?" I stared at her, "what a prick."

"That's about all he's got," she pulled a wry grin, "a prick, but I can't say I'm disappointed," she sent another text and rested her elbows on the table behind her. I felt a slight tingling of desire then and there as her plump breasts pushed against the white blouse.

"Hopefully he gets pulled up by the cops," I replied.

"Why? What's he done to you?"

"I'm an ambo," I replied, "I see too much carnage, so if he gets pulled over and loses his licence then that's one more lunatic off the road."

Her eyes softened and I noticed she had light brown eyes.

"I'm Charlie," I held out my hand.

"Tracey," she shook my hand, "I'm a second year medical student."

"So we're in the same field."

"More or less," she chuckled, "so, Charlie, who are you with tonight?"

"On my own."

"No fella?" Tracey looked over, "is that by choice?"

"I'm not into guys and yeah, I'm on my own by choice tonight. I don't have a regular girlfriend."

Tracey shifted slightly and crossed her legs. She gave me the once over as if checking me out and then smirked.

"You're cute, I should introduce you to Carla. She's in my year and she's been after me for months and although she's cute I don't want to sleep with her."

"Not your type or you don't do it with girls?"

"A bit of both," she ran a hand through her hair, "to be honest she's too intense. It wears me out just being her friend let alone her girlfriend."

"Well it's not all peaches and cream, you get good ones, bad ones and ones I'm not sure about," I held my cup up in mock salute.

"Amen to that," she replied, "so, what movie are you seeing?"

"Captain America, Civil War."

"Well I was going to see it but now that Matty has fucked off it looks like I'll have to see it at Hoyts or Village. I've just asked my girlfriend to come pick me up."

"Well why not watch it in my van?" I asked her, "unless you'd rather," I stopped.

"Watch it in your van?" Tracey studied me for a moment, "what've you got?"

"Sandman," I pointed, "over there, about two rows up. Afterwards I could run you home."

She pursed her lips and looked down at her handbag, a moment later she took out her phone and tapped the home button.

"Well, let's have a look at your sin bin," she stood up.

"What about your girlfriend?"

"I'm still waiting on her to reply," she put the phone back, "but Kim would have to come all the way from Hampton, I'm out in Carrum Downs."

"I'm a Dromana girl."

"Whoa, that's too far," she stopped in mid stride.

"It's on gas," I shrugged.

"Even so, I'd put something in the tank," she bowed her head, "I'm not a gold digger, I just don't have heaps of money to throw about."

"Well, yeah, you're a student. I get that. So, is this guy your boyfriend?"

"Matty?" Tracey chuckled, "not exactly. Matty is just a fuck buddy," she glanced up. "His parents own a holiday home down in Sorrento, I was supposed to be staying there for the weekend but all that's turned to shit now."

We reached the van and she took a minute or two to examine it while I unlocked the back. It was obvious she was streetwise because she noted the registration plate and then peered inside. Her eyes widened as she examined the interior. I've got a mattress in the back, leather lining on the roof and sides, blacked out side windows and a mini bar. Media is supplied by a laptop wired into the sound system and I can plug my phone into the laptop or the stereo. The laptop is actually sitting inside metal runners that have to be unbolted if you want to take it out. An alarm system takes care of the security, along with my trusty baseball bat.

"Slick," she perched on the tailgate and took out her phone, "excuse me while I call Kim."

I clambered inside and arranged my pillow while she called Kim. I didn't hear the conversation but judging by the look on her face it was obvious these two were close. She then made another call and this one was a little more serious. It lasted the better part of two minutes, which gave me enough time to eat my hot dog.

"I hope you don't mind, I called my dad," she clambered into the back.

"He likes to know what I'm doing, my dad's a cop."

"Did I pass the test?"

"No outstanding warrants," she looked at the pillow, "you're a model citizen, I'll bet you've had some parties in this."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Cool McGool," she chuckled as she played with her phone, "do you mind if I take some pics for my Instagram?"

"Go ahead," I leaned on my elbow and then winced as she aimed the phone at me.

"You camera shy?"

"Not particularly, just surprised."

She took a picture of me lounging in the back of the van and then took some more shots of the back and one of the view through the archway to the steering wheel and dashboard.

"I'll have to get some pics in the daylight," she settled down beside me and tapped my leg.

"Come on, sit up next to me and put your arm around me."

"What for?"

"I want a selfie of us," she elbowed me, "come on, don't be a grumpy dyke."

"I'm not a grumpy dyke," I sat up and she snuggled in closer, "it's just funny watching you take pictures of my van."

"Do you take it to shows?"

"Nah, just not my thing. I'm proud of it but I drive this to work and back again. If you start down that road then you don't want anyone coming too close to it in case they scratch it."

I put my arm around her shoulders, she put her hand between my legs and held the phone up.

"Say, sex please," she squeezed my leg.

"Sex please," I replied and a moment later the phone flashed and she chuckled and brought the phone closer to look at the picture.

"You take a good picture," she patted my leg, "I'll bet I could get you a root if I showed this to some of my gay friends, even my straight friends would probably root you," she put the phone down and crossed her legs.

"So, you've got no regular girlfriend," she leaned forward and pulled off a sandal, "what do you do for entertainment? Pick up hot chicks and root them?"

"Now and then, I do like heading up the bush with a girlfriend but most of the time I'm too busy working, all work and no play makes me a dull girl."

"So, how old are you?"

"Your dad didn't tell you?" I smiled at her.

"Nope, he just said you had no criminal record."

"Twenty four," I replied, "and you?"

"Twenty one in three months," she put the sandals to one side and pulled the jacket over her shoulders, "give me a hand with this, please?"

I pulled the jacket down her back and she put it down beside her and fluffed out her hair. She saw me looking at her and a moment later she picked up the pillow and hit me with it.

"Here, have your pillow."

"I'm fine, you have the pillow," I took off my jacket.

"But it's your van, your pillow."

"And you're my guest, I insist," I put my back against the rear wall, "I'm being polite or do you want me to be a grumpy dyke?"

"Oh, don't do that," she put the pillow on the mattress and stretched out her legs, "don't mind me, I'm just a shit stirring bitch."

I was about to reply when the big screen went blank and then lit up again with the production company's logo.

"Movie's started."

There are some movies that are memorable for their acting or plot, and then there are movies that evoke powerful memories because of what happened while they were playing. In this case it was the second reason. I was sitting against the back wall beside her. She was busy texting her friends in silent mode, but after about fifteen minutes she put the phone down and started watching the movie. I was half watching it but I also noticed her stretched out in my van, her arms locked behind her head and at one point she looked up at me and then looked away.

About ten minutes later she sat up and pulled her legs in against herself and hugged them. At first I thought she was just intent on the movie but then she shivered and looked at me.

"You got any blankets here?"

"Behind you," I picked up a folded blanket, "you cold?"

"A little," she took it from me and moved forward a little, "spread your legs."

I hesitated for a moment and then spread my legs. She slid over and put herself between my legs and leaning back against my breasts, put the blanket over our legs. It was so sudden and so natural I actually froze for a few moments and then she grabbed my hands and put them in front of her.

"Don't be shy, I'm definitely not a virgin."

I adjusted my position slightly. I could smell her shampoo but I admit I was kind of wary. Should I try to take this further or just let it play out? I decided the latter option was the wisest solution under the circumstances, at least for now anyway. Another ten minutes went by and she spoke again.

"Aren't your hands cold?"

"Kind of but I'm fine."

She pulled the blanket up further to cover my arms.

"There, I've made the decision for you."

I sat there with my hands resting on her stomach for a minute or two and she gingerly touched my hands.

"You lied to me," she stroked my left hand, "your hands are cold."

"I was trying to be tough."

"No need to be tough with me, I'm tough enough for both of us."

"You are?"

"Trust me," she slid her fingers under the cuff of my shirt and felt my watch, "I've got a black belt in taekwondo."

"How long you been doing taekwondo?"

"Since I was fourteen," she slid her hand over my arm.

"I've been teaching the youngsters part time when I've got a day off uni and every now and then we have these exhibition matches and they like me to put on a show because of well, the way I look, it's all part of their marketing strategy. You can be beautiful and as mean as cat's piss," she giggled and patted my hand.

"I'd like to check out this show."

"Serious?" Tracey half turned and looked up at me.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Okay," she reached out for her phone and brought up her contacts menu a few moments later, "so, what's your number and I'll text you the time when I know it."

I gave her my number.

"What's your second name?"

"Rosie, first name is Charlene but my friends call me Charlie."

"Charlene," she chuckled, "was your mum a Neighbours fan?"

"Well that should be obvious, I got sick of being shit stirred at school and changed it to Charlie."

"I actually like Charlene but whatever rocks your boat," she sent me a message and I picked up my own phone to add her to my contact list.

"You know what this means."

"What?" I replied to her text.

"I'm going to send you texts."

"Damn, how will I cope."

"I'm sure you'll manage," Tracey replied as her phone lit up. I looked at the picture on her phone, it wasn't a picture of her but the woman had her features.

"Your mother?"

"Yeah," she held it up for me, "that's my favourite picture of her."

"She looks beautiful."

Tracey didn't reply for a moment and then sighed.

"It was taken while she was still healthy."

"What happened?"

"Cancer," she replied, "she was a doctor but didn't tell us for a month or so. I was mad as hell when I found out and then I got mad at myself for getting mad at her. She just wanted to cram as many good times in before she got too sick."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," I replied, "how long ago?"

"Three and a half years. It's why I wanted to become a doctor, it's my way of carrying on her legacy."

I opened my mouth to say something but shut it again and she patted my hand and looked up at the ceiling.

"It's okay, I was a mess at the time but I got through it eventually. Sometimes I cry when I hear a song she loved and I still can't watch Star Wars on my own because I start crying. Mum was a huge Star Wars fan, one of the things we did was go to Lucas Ranch. It's where that picture was taken," she moved her legs over mine to lock them in place. The move was suggestive and a moment or two later she took my hands and placed them on her thighs and then dropped her hands to my hips and settled back against me.

"I loved Star Wars, even the newer ones," she started sliding her fingers along my thighs, "my mum got me the complete set when I was in high school. We used to watch them together."

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"No, I'm an only child, I live with my dad because he needs someone to just be there if you know what I mean. I keep telling him to start dating but he's not ready for it he tells me," she ran her hand up my legs.

"So, what about you?"

"Not much to tell," I replied, "my dad left when I was eight and I didn't see him for two years, my mum lives with her boyfriend, Alex. I've got a younger sister, Ally, she's in her first year at university."

"Do you still see your dad?"

"Now and then, he lives in Lightning Ridge. He's a part owner of an opal mine. He comes down once every year around Christmas and we both meet him in Frankston at his brother's place."

"How do you get along?"

"Okay, he's my dad but I couldn't live with him. He once asked me to move up for a few months but I'm not about to move into redneck heaven and Ally feels the same."

Her phone rang and she picked it up and looked at the screen.

"Fuck it," she swiped the screen and leaned forward.

"What is it? Did you forget something?"

The blanket fell away and I put my hands on my legs as she went on.

"Fuck off, idiot. You're the one who left me here," she flicked her hair over her head and listened to his reply before cutting him off mid stream, apparently.

"So, how is that my fucking fault? You're the one driving drunk, if you get pulled up by the cops then you wear it. I'm not going to call my dad to rescue you... I'm turning the phone off... yeah, yeah, yeah, piss off hairy legs," she ended the call and then turned the phone off.

"Fucking men," she put the phone down, "I should give up on fucking men and just go out with women instead," she glanced over her shoulder.