Naked Hero - The Journey Away

there was a hush...
    Here it comes....
    T hen some silly sod went and spoiled it all! He too had a message for Lewis Macleod, taking the opportunity to cry it out, which wasn’t ‘fair dinkum’ at all.
    “Remember, Lewis… It’s their prejudices… Not yours. Their shame… Not yours. You’re better than them… and you’re better than this. Now come on. Make us proud... Make him proud.”
    T hat set them off again, didn’t it just!
    Amidst the renewed heckling, Lewis turned round and searched the area in the stand from where the words had come. There he was, standing up bold as brass, taking no heed of anyone else. Once again Lewis looked into the eyes of Lee Porter and felt their power as he had done before. This time he welcomed it, absorbed it - allowed it to penetrate and awaken him from the nightmare.
    Then suddenly another voice was heard through the melee. It seemed like everybody wanted to get in on the act. “Well said! It’s about time that somebody spoke out. This is the most disgusting exhibition I’ve ever seen at a tennis match. Mr. Umpire! If you can’t control that rabble behind you, then call for the referee now and have yourself replaced by someone who can.”
    It hardly seemed real, but ‘fair dinkum’ it was, and reality was starting to come back. Lewis heard the words, but his gaze was still locked on, and held by Lee Porter, so no face was put to them. But the crowd could see, and most recognised to whom the words belonged. He wasn’t so easily forgotten after all – true sportsmen never are.
    Whilst the heckling from the area behind the players’ chairs continued, the rest of the crowd started to applaud the words, and the gentleman champion that most of them knew. Enough was enough - and they’d had more than enough of that nonsense from behind the chairs. Eventually the admonished umpire gained yet another uneasy silence, and called for play to resume.
    Lewis was still held, captured in a look; then he smiled as he nodded to Lee Porter, and a hold was broken by mutual consent.
    It could only have been an hour later when Lewis shook hands with his defeated opponent. The applause might have been muted, but it was there nonetheless. After the hand shake, Lewis stood at the centre of the court and looked around. To each of the four stands he turned one after the other and gazed into the small crowd, gave them a wave and a bit of a smile, with perhaps just a tinge of sarcasm added in one direction. That was only fair. They were such a nice bunch of boys.
    Having completed the square, Lewis looked around again, first to Jim, with a forced grin that disguised the disappointment that he felt for his silence whilst others had acted. Then to Lee, with endless questions in his eyes, and a gesture that said he would call him. A final look was made, but he didn’t know whom he sought - just a voice that could no longer be heard beyond a haunting echo of familiarity.

Chapter 19
    Lee Porter watched Lewis as he packed his kit bag and was escorted from the court. Then he turned on his mobile and awaited the call. The stands started to empty, but Lee held back, not sure what to do now, or where to go. He needed some time to think . This was not one of the envisaged scenarios he had planned for during the weekend.
    Lee had arrived in Melbourne early in the morning, and was booked on the last flight back to Sydney. He had an appointment with HIM Clothing the following day, and thought it best to keep his options open. But he hadn’t really expected to be making the flight.
    Having got to the ground early, Lee secured his place in the stand on Court Five before the main crowd had gathered. It was the first time he had seen tennis played live at this level, and Lee was amazed at the skill and power of the first two players on court. Television seemed to dilute the intensity at which the game was played. He would have preferred to watch the action at close quarters, but elected instead to sit at the back. He didn’t want to be seen by Lewis when he played his match - there would be enough distraction for him as it was. That became all too apparent as the spectators behind the players chairs started to gather. As the first match progressed, and the antics from this small but unsavoury bunch intensified, Lee found himself watching that part of the crowd almost as much as the tennis.
    And then Lewis arrived, apparently indifferent to the hostility around. Lee should have felt annoyed – at