My Story, 16

Back to school next day. It was odd. Everyone looked at me. I got some surprised looks at my new look, but no-one said anything – not a word.

That was fine by me. If they never spoke to me again, I wouldn’t care.

I did overhear some of them talking to each other though. They were wondering what ‘the queer’ was doing now. Whatever.

We went in for our first class. I sat alone, of course, and they all forgot about me. I was old news now and they had something better to look at. A new kid walked into the room and he was nice to look at, very nice.

Maybe he wasn’t as good-looking as Graeme, (a boy like him only comes along once in a lifetime), but, even so, this was one nice-looking kid. Way better than anyone else in the room, if not the school. He was gorgeous!

He spoke to the teacher, Miss Simons, and then she sent him to a seat over the other side of the room, next to Jillian Carew. Lucky Cow!

Miss Simons stood up, “Right Class! Come on, Kids, settle down. It’s my great pleasure to welcome you all back for another year. I’m sure that you’ve all been missing me and I hope that you had a great holiday. Now it’s time to get back to the daily grind.

We have a new student joining us this year. I hope you’ll all welcome Leonard Crowe and help him to feel at home here in Tiroroa.”

‘Yeah, right! Like they’re all so good at doing that. Pricks!’

We opened our books and the lesson, the day and the year began.

At the recess, I sat outside in the sunshine. There was lots of talking, lots of laughing, as they all caught-up on each other’s lives. The new boy had a crowd around him, checking him out. No-one spoke to me, but then a couple of girls came over.

“Hey Lizzy, what’ve you done to your hair?”

Intelligent question, eh?

“Hey Cindy. Hey Loretta. Don’t call me ‘Lizzy’, I’m over that. My name’s Virgil, and I’ve had a haircut, obviously.”

“No more Lizzy? That’s a shame. And you’ve had the mother of all haircuts, obviously. It looks good.”

They walked away and left me sitting there feeling slightly gobsmacked.

All day long, I couldn’t stop looking at the new kid. Len, they were calling him. He seemed to be fitting in well and was never short of someone to talk to, unlike me.

Once, he looked up, saw me looking at him and he smiled! I felt like crying. I would’ve too, if I was on my own, but I wasn’t so I couldn’t. I wouldn’t give the pricks the satisfaction of seeing how sad and lonely I was.

Damm! I wished I was someone else. Anyone else. I hated my life. I wasn’t too keen on Dennis right then either. If I hadn’t gone along with his stupid plan, then I might have had a chance of making friends with someone like this Leonard Crowe, but it wasn’t going to happen, was it?

He’d have a hundred friends around here, but none of them was going to be me. Dammit!

‘Dennis, you’re a jerk and I’m dumb.’

I walked out of the gates after school finished and stood waiting while a stream of traffic went past on the highway. It didn’t happen very often, but sometimes it did when they got stuck behind a slow driver or something. Len Crowe came up and stood next to me.

“Hi, Virgil, isn’t it? You got far to walk home?”

“Oh, hey Len. I haven’t got far; we live just over the road there.”

“You’re right, that’s not far at all. I’m close, we’re living down by the park, but you’re almost at school.”

“I am. Well it is a schoolhouse. Listen Len, umm, I don’t think that you should be talking to me.”

“You don’t? Why not?”

“Because then you’ll be an outcast as well, if you do. You’d be better to stay away from me. They all hate me because they think I’m gay.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. You know what? Fuck ‘em. I’ll talk to who I want to. See you tomorrow, Virgil.”

“You probably will. ‘Bye, Len and thanks!”

He walked away up the road and I went across to home, happy and amazed. He spoke to me and he didn’t care what anyone thought! Ah well, he was new there. He would learn. They’d all tell him to stay away from the gayboy.

I let Jimmy off and went inside for a drink. There was nobody else at home. Mum had a staff meeting and Gran was out somewhere. I didn’t want to think about what she’d be doing.

I sat and thought about the new boy. I really liked him – like, really, really liked him. He was a cool kid. It was a shame that I’d never get to be his mate.

“You know what? Fuck ‘em!” Hah! Sounded like something I would say. Would he be big enough to be with me?

‘Oh, Fuck! He couldn’t be gay himself, could he?’ No, no chance. My life wasn’t that good. He’d soon learn who was safe to talk to and who wasn’t. Dammit!

I was tempted to take Jimmy for a walk to the park. Len lived near the park, he said. So did about 20 others, but I might see him there. No. I couldn’t do that. That would be just, well, desperate. I was desperate but I didn’t want to look like I was.

I went to bed that night with a whole new set of fantasies. Well, they were the same old fantasies, but there was a new star to play in them. Graeme? Graeme who? Mrs. Palmer and the daughters were in for a good workout.

They did get a workout, and then I cried myself to sleep because my dreams would never come true. Sheesh! I was a sad little git.

I went to school next day and it was a good day. Things were changing. Most of them just ignored me, but a couple of kids spoke to me, and one of them was Len!

He came and sat next to me for the maths class. “Hi Virgil. How’s it going? Mind if I sit here with you?”

“Hey. I don’t mind at all, but I don’t know whether you should. It won’t do your reputation any good.”

“My reputation? Fuck ‘em. I hear that you’re the best at maths. I’m useless, so any help you can give me would be much appreciated.”

“That’s cool. I’ll help you if I can.”

“Thank you, Sir!” he grinned.

It wasn’t Graeme’s grin, but still, pretty good. And nice. He made me feel good.

‘Oh, be still my heart! As Denise would say.’

“Hey, New Boy!” Greg Brown, sitting behind us, kicked the back of Len’s chair.

“Yeah? You want something?” Len looked around.

“Just wanted to tell you, watch where he puts his hands.”

“Why? Can he do magic or something?”

“No. I’m just warning you. That’s a faggot you’re sitting with.”

“Well, thanks, but I don’t care. I’d rather sit with a faggot than a bigot.”

“A bigot? Fuck you, Mate.”

“You want to fuck me, do you, Greg? No thanks, you’re not my type.”

“And he is, I suppose?”

“Why? Jealous are you?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Oh dear! I kept my mouth shut, but I did enjoy that little exchange. The New Kid was not someone to be messed with. My hero!

My hero was a flawed hero though. Throughout the lesson, I did the maths and he watched and copied my work. That’s not good. I didn’t mind for me, it meant he was with me and he thought that I was helping him. But, was I? Cheating is not learning.

At the end of the class, we handed our work in and I said, “Okay. I hope I haven’t made too many stupid mistakes.”

“Yeah,” he answered. “I hope you haven’t too.”

“Len, look, I’ve never done any tutoring, but I’d be happy to try it if you want help.”

“That’d be great. I’d really like that. My dad is a surveyor, maths is his world and he thinks I’m an ignoramus because I just don’t get it. Can I come to your place after school today and we’ll get started.”

“Yeah, of course you can. I’m not doing anything, I never am.

“Cool Thanks. I can’t afford to pay you much though.”

“Pay? You don’t have to pay me anything. It’ll be fun and it’ll be good to have some company for once. Everyone’s got their strong points and weak points. There’ll be lots of things that you’re good at and I’m not.”

“Sports period is next and we’re doing a cross-country. What are you like at running?”

“What am I like? I’m the best! I’ll leave you standing and eating my dust.”

“I won’t you know. I thought you might be a runner, but, sorry, no way will you beat me!”

“I will!”

Joel came in 3rd in the race that day. Guess who came in 2nd? Me. Dammit. The kid was good.

My Story, 15

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(Oamaru)


(Dunedin)


(Invercargill)


(Catlins)


(Queenstown)


(Wanaka)


(Haast)


(Fox Glacier)


(Franz Joseph)


(Whataroa)


(Okarito)


(Punakiki)


(Westpoint)

The night before we left on our travels, Aunt Iris went all out and we had a special celebration dinner. It was like Christmas all over again, with everything on the table, including Uncle Bert’s home-made wine.

Graeme and I didn’t get any wine though; we had sparkling grape-juice, which I didn’t mind at all.

It was a really great meal, but I didn’t feel much like celebrating, it was going to be my last night with Graeme. Everything comes to an end, I know, but – Dammit! I was sure going to miss him. Graeme was a bit flat too; well he was going to miss me, wasn’t he? Of course he was!

However, things got better, much better. My wonderful grandmother sat looking at us, across the table.

“Cheer up, Boys. It’s not the end of the world. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t have to be the end of anything. You two have been getting on so well together, why doesn’t Graeme come with us? You could keep Mr. Gloomy-Guts here company for the rest of our holiday. Would you like to do that?”

“Well, yeah, I would,” Graeme replied. “But I came here to stay with Uncle Bert and aunt Iris.”

“Don’t you worry about us, Lovey,” aunt Iris smiled. “You don’t want to be stuck here with the boring old people. Go and have a great holiday, with Virgil.”

“Yeah, bugger-off, Kid,” Uncle Bert agreed. “We’re getting sick of the sight of you anyway.”

“Really? That’d be so great! Virgil, what do you think?”

“What do I think? Well, I guess I could put up with you for a couple more weeks.” I grinned as wide as I’ve ever done in my life!

He grinned back and shoved my shoulder. “Shut up, Dork. Yes! I’m going to be a gypsy! Thanks, everyone. Thanks a lot.”

Have I got a great family or what? Two more weeks, 14 more nights with this beautiful boy in my bed. Simply ace! I love my Gran, she’s the best.

Now we felt like celebrating! We enjoyed the rest of the meal and even cheerfully helped clean up afterwards. Would you believe it? Aunt Iris doesn’t even have a dish-washer. She says that’s Bert’s job.

Once finished there, we went out to the tent and celebrated some more. Graeme for dessert, oh yes!

Damm! Two weeks go fast when you’re having fun, and we were! Lotsafun. It was the best holiday of my life, the best holiday ever. Some nights we stayed in camping grounds; sometimes with Gran’s friends, and sometimes just parked-up in a nice spot on the side of the road.

We hooked-up with a couple of girls once, in Wanaka, and, yes, I had sex with one of them. It was gross! All soft and squishy. No more of that for me, I’d rather be with Graeme anyday.

We went down the East Coast, through Oamaru, Dunedin, Invercargill, (the world’s southernmost city), the Catins, (great beaches but bloody cold water), Queenstown and Wanaka, (cool lakes but too much money around), and back up the west coast – Haast, (the middle of nowhere and huge rainfall), Fox Glacier and Franz Josef, (twin rivers of ice & too many tourists), Okarito, (very cool lagoon, it was huge! We went boating on the air-mattress), Whataroa, (boat trip through the White Heron’s breeding colony), Punakiki, (Pancake Rocks and awesome blowholes), Westpoint, (Mum’s hometown – whoop-de-do), and back to Tiro-bloody-roa.

Jimmy was pleased to see us. He’d been staying with a family, but he was glad we were home. Funny thing though, he didn’t like Graeme. Dumb dog. Maybe he was jealous?

Graeme stayed the last night with us in Tiroroa. We slept together in my little bed, which was interesting. There wasn’t a lot of room, but we got close.

Next morning, we drove into town, had an early lunch in the markets, and then went to the airport to put Graeme on his plane, home to Hamilton. Dammit! We said goodbye, hugged a long time, he kissed me on the cheek and he was gone. Dammit!

We’d exchanged addresses and we’d keep in touch, but it wouldn’t be the same. My nights were going to be so lonely. ‘Mrs. Palmer and her 5 daughters’ wouldn’t be enough anymore. I needed a boyfriend.

Mum and I stopped in Richmond on the way home, and went into the Mall. Mum had some shopping to do. She needed, she said, a whole new wardrobe for the new school year. “Teachers have to dress smartly. It’s all part of the image.”

Sounded like an excuse to go shopping to me. This was going to take bloody hours, and I was not interested in going with her. What would I know about women’s clothes?

I scored some cash off her and went to the Food-Court for a snack. The queue was way too long at the Bilious Burgers’ counter, so I settled for a thickshake from KFC – they’re the best things they do.

I found an empty table, (not easy to do, the place was crowded), and sat there looking at the people looking at me and my hair. Everyone else seemed to have someone to talk to. Teenagers always seem to get around in packs. Ever noticed that?

Not me though. I had no-one. Poor me! I had no friends.

I sat there looking at the crowd and feeling sorry for myself. Damm, I missed Graeme.

‘Bugger this. It’s time I started making changes. My life sucks.’

There was a certain shop, just along from the Food-Court. I sat looking at it and I made a decision. I finished my drink, got up, and went in there before I changed my mind.

About an hour later, Mum came along, laden with all her packages, and walked straight past me. She didn’t recognize me! I was sitting there, on a bench, waiting for her and she didn’t even know me.

I mean, come on! There was changes, but how can a mother not know her only son? I didn’t know whether to be pleased or offended.

She stood, by the main doors, and looked around the crowd. I sat and watched her. Eventually, she focused on me and I could, just about, see the clicks in her head. She came striding over, I stood up and she exploded at me.

“Virgil! What the fuck have you done? Are you out of your bloody mind, Boy?”

“Hey, Mother. Don’t you like it? I do, I think it looks pretty good.”

“Good? You think it looks good? Oh, Virgil, your hair! Your beautiful hair – all gone! Why did you cut it off?”

“I didn’t cut it. A very nice hairdresser cut it and she gave me $350 for it too.”

“$350? Is that all? Surely it was worth more than that.”

“No, it wasn’t. There’s not the demand for real-hair wigs these days. Do you really not like it? I do and I feel free. It’s time for changes in my life.”

“Changes!” She stood staring and considering my new look. Finally, she smiled. “Well . . It was just such a shock! But, yes, I think I do like it. You look good. You’re a very handsome young man, My Son.”

“Oh good! It’s done now, but I’m pleased you can live with it.”

“I can live with it. However, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when Gran sees what you’ve done. She’s going to kill you!

Speaking of shoes, you need new ones. You need a whole new outfit for the New Year as well. Come, Virgil, we’ve got more shopping to do.”

So, we went back and we bought school-clothes for me. Shoes, socks, short, shirts, a jersey and a jacket. There was hardly any change from my $350. Dammit! It didn’t seem fair that I had to pay for my clothes, but Mum made me do it.

I wasn’t rich for long!

We arrived home, got our packages out of the car and went inside.

“Don’t let Gran kill me, Mum.”

She didn’t kill me. (You probably guessed that). She really surprised us actually. We walked into the living-room, Gran looked up and she smiled!

“Looking good, Virgil. I’ve been wondering when you’d do it. Our baby is growing up, Natasha. What’s for dinner?”

My bed was very empty that night.

Next morning, I put Jimmy on the leash and we walked up the road, to Dennis’ house, to say our last goodbyes before his Granddad took him to the airport. Dennis/Denise was the best friend I had around there, apart from Jimmy, and I was going to miss him.

We exchanged addresses in case I needed a shoulder to cry on, he got in the car with his granddad, they left and I was alone again, naturally. It was just as bad as saying goodbye to Graeme.

Dennis’ grandmother put a hand on my back. “Cheer up, Lad. Friends come and go. That’s just the way life is. Would you like to come in for a drink? We’ve got cake.”

“No,” I smiled back at her. “Thanks, but I’d better get back home. Some other time, maybe?”

“Okay, Virgil. You call around any time you want company, or cake. You’ll always be welcome here.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Archer. I appreciate that.” We went back home and laid around for the day, doing nothing.

My Story, 14

“Wow! Here’s someone I know – a friend from home. Back soon.” I ran off to make a big fuss of my friend and left Graeme with his fan club.

Joel was surprised, but I don’t think he was pleased to see me. He was with his younger cousin, Garry Stafford. They were travelling around, on holiday with Garry’s family. They were just passing through the town, had seen the carnival and had stopped for a hour or two.

It only took a couple of minutes and I was wondering exactly what sort of relationship did Joel have with his cousin? The kid was all over him, hanging on to his arm and giggling like a girl, or something.

Yeah, I was pretty sure that Joel had found a younger boy to do things with. Whatever. I didn’t want to go there and some things it’s better not to know.

His dad wasn’t with them, he was back home in Tiroroa. I think he was happy to say goodbye and, yeah, we’d see each other at home.

I left them and looked around, there was no sign of Graeme. He and his girls had gone – walking in the gardens, probably. Good luck to them, I was going home. Well, not home, obviously, back to Iris and Bert’s place.

I walked through the carnival grounds, up the hill and down the main street of Timaru. It was going to be a long walk. There was no sign of Uncle Bert, there were no buses and I wasn’t rich enough for a taxi. Whatever. I could do it. All I had to do was to follow the main road, south, and anger gives you energy.

Yeah, I was angry all right, angry at Graeme. Fuck ‘im! Okay, we weren’t married or anything, we weren’t even boyfriends, but when you go somewhere with someone it’s just good manners to stay with them and not go wandering off with some stupid girls, isn’t it?

He could sleep on his own from now on. I didn’t want to catch any stupid girl germs off him. There’s an old song, I bet you don’t know it. It says, “If you want to be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife.” I guess that the same thing applies to pretty boys too, everybody wants them. Fuck ‘em anyway.

Damm! Timaru is a hilly town. It’s all ups and downs. Big mother hills too, when you’re walking. It’s funny really, (that’s funny peculiar not funny haha), coming down here, you drive through miles and miles of flat country, the famous Canterbury Plains, stretching from the mountains down to the sea. Then, when you come to the first bit where’s there’s hills down to the sea, where do they put their town? Bastards.

Timaru is not a city, I think, but it’s a big bugger town. It goes for miles on its hills. I was too tired to be angry when I got back to Aunt Iris’s.

Actually, I was offered a ride on the way, by a car full of strangers, but I didn’t get in. I’m not stupid. It was a souped-up Cortina, with all the bells and whistles, and it had four young guys in it. Car-boys, obviously. I think that they were a bit drunk too.

They went up and down the road past me a couple of times, tooting, waving and whistling. Then they came back, stopped and asked me if I wanted a ride. I said, “No thanks. I’m nearly home.”

One of them got out of the back. “C’mon Kid. Get in the car. We’ll take you where you need to go.”

“I said, no thank you. ‘Bye.”

I walked into the nearest driveway and around to the back of the house there. I stood there waiting for them to leave and an old guy opened the backdoor and looked at me.

“Can I help you, Sonny?”

“Oh, hello. Sorry to just walk in like this. There’s some strangers out there trying to get me to come in their car with them.”

“Is there just? Well, you did the right thing, Son. You just stay where you are until they’ve gone. Would you like a drink while you’re waiting?”

“Thanks. A glass of water would be great.”

“Just water? Okay, wait there a minute.”

He went inside and soon returned with a big glass of water, with ice in it even. “Cool. That’s great. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you want me to ring the police?”

“No, it’s okay. They haven’t done anything and they’re not going to either.”

“No, they’re not,” he smiled. “You hear about cases where kids are picked up by strangers and terrible things happen to them. I think you’re too smart to get caught like that.”

“I hope so!” I smiled back.

He asked where I was going and I told him to my Uncle Bert’s house and where he lived, but he didn’t know him. He said that he’d be happy to give me a lift home, but he didn’t drive anymore, he was too old.

The car was well gone by then, so I said goodbye and thanks and carried on walking. I didn’t see them again, thankfully. If I had, I would’ve gone straight into the nearest house again. I knew what they were after, Bastards. He was a nice old guy though. There’s some bad people out there but they’re not all bad.

Back at the house, Aunt Iris was the only one at home. She was still working in the garden. I guess that it takes a lot of work to keep garden looking that good. She asked where Graeme was and I said, “I don’t know, I lost him.”

“Oh well. Let’s hope he finds his way home as well. Has he got his phone with him?”

“Yeah, he’s got his cell.”

“That’s good. He’ll be fine then. He can ring if he needs a ride. I’ll just be 5 minutes more here. Help yourself to a drink if you want one. There’s coke in the fridge.”

“Thanks Aunty. I’ll do that.”

I went into the kitchen and had a coke. She’s a nice old thing, Aunt Iris. (Still keeping my gran though). I went out to the backyard, got my sleeping-bag and pillows and took them into the truck. I was sleeping in there. Graeme could please himself where he slept, but it wouldn’t be with me.

I had some dinner with Aunt Iris. Not a lot, we’d been stuffing ourselves all day, on hot-dogs and stuff. A car pulled up outside and Graeme got out of it. The car was full of girls and a woman was driving, one of their parents, probably.

“Thanks for dinner, Aunty. Sorry, but I can’t eat anymore. See you later.”

I hurried out of the front-door before he came in through the back. I locked myself into the housetruck and lay on the floor with the laptop. If anyone came knocking, I wouldn’t be there. Well, except for Gran, I supposed. It was her housetruck. And, I supposed I’d have to let Mum in; anyone else could get lost.

No-one came knocking. I was disappointed. I was quite looking forward to telling him to fuck off, but he didn’t come. Dammit. Doesn’t he like me or something?

Next morning, when I woke, Mum and Gran were in their beds, sleeping. So I slipped out and went walking. I still had money left, so I bought a pie and a drink, for breakfast, from the shop up the road. I took them to the park and sat by the fishpond to eat.

The pie was stale and gross. The fish got more of it than I did. I sat and drank my OJ, and watched the dumb fish eating my pie. My life sucked. I couldn’t wait to get on the road again and go and try somewhere else. I wondered if there was any way I could speed that up?

An old guy tried to pick me up. He sat on the bench, next to me, ogling and leering. He tried to chat me up. I told him, “I’m not interested, thanks Granddad,” and got up and walked away.

Eww! A horrible thought struck me. He could really be my granddad for all I knew. He was old enough. I got out of there and went back to the housetruck. At least the crazy people there were safe crazy people.

It was hot and stuffy in the truck. Mum and Gran weren’t there. They’d probably be shopping. The New Year’s sales were still going on. I played a game for a while, but couldn’t get into it. It was boring being on my own.

Aunt Iris called me in for lunch. I hesitated, but, whatever. It wasn’t his house. I had the right to be there too. There was no-one else there and we ate our lunch, just my Aunty and me. I didn’t ask where he was and she didn’t say. (I did wonder though).

After lunch, Graeme and Uncle Bert came back in the car. I was in the lounge, watching a DVD movie, an oldie. It was Sleepless in Seattle actually. What? So I’m a romantic. Sue me.

Graeme came in and flopped in the other armchair. We didn’t speak, just watched the movie. I sneaked a glance at him a couple of times Damm, he was a looker! I wished we hadn’t stuffed things up.

The movie finished, Graeme stood up and stretched.

“Man. It’s a hot day. Feel like a swim?”

“No thanks.” (Okay, I could sulk with the best of them. If sulking was in the Olympics, I could sulk for New Zealand, according to Gran).

“Please yourself. I thought we were going to be friends, Virgil. I’m sorry that we’re not.”

He went out the back, peeled his shirt off and climbed into the pool. I sat watching through the ranch-slider windows. He was sorry? Yeah, so was I. It looked like I could fix this, if I wanted to. Did I want to?

Yes, I did want to! We only had a couple more nights there and then we’d be gone.

I went outside to the pool, stripped my clothes off and slid into the water in my boxers. Graeme looked quietly at me, and then he grinned, “Changed your mind then?”

“About swimming, yeah. I’m still not sure what I’m feeling about you.”

“About me? What have I done anyway?”

“What have you done? You buggered off with your giggling girls and left me on my own, didn’t you?”

“So that’s how you see it. What about you then? You went off and left me first.”

“Left you first? I did not! I just saw someone I knew there and I went to say hey to him. I told you that. You were busy with your fans anyway, and when I turned around you were gone and I was there on my own.”

“With your friend.”

“He’s not my friend, he’s just someone I know. Mum dates his father sometimes.”

“Oh. Well, what was I supposed to think? You were already jealous because I was talking to the girls, you saw your gayboy friend, and his good-looking mate, and you went to talk to them.

I was pissed at you, so I did what the girls wanted and we went to the gardens. You knew where we’d be.”

“Oh, so it’s all my fault that you shot through on me? Know what? Forget it. We were never going to last long anyway.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, come on! Look at us. You’re freakin’ gorgeous and I’m just me.”

“Just you? You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“Look in a mirror sometime, Virgil. You’re a great looking kid and you’re a nice guy, when you’re not being a pain in the arse.”

“Maybe being a pain is my natural state.”

“Maybe it is, but you know it’s not and I know it too. I’ve got pretty-boy looks, I know that, I’m not blind. But the looks don’t last. The older a person gets the more who he is on the inside shows on his face.

You’re already starting from a good place and it’s just going to get better and better. Whoever you finish up with is going to be one lucky guy.”

He slipped under the water and swam across the pool.

You know what? That’s the nicest thing that anyone’s ever said to me in a long, long time, maybe forever. I liked this kid. How could I stay mad at him?

I climbed the steps up out of the water, stood on the top, and launched myself at him. I loved the look on his face just before I slammed into him and we both went underwater.

We surfaced, spluttering, and he attacked me back. We fought and wrestled and laughed and played, and everything was good again.

When we finally tired of that, we knelt with just our heads out of the water, looking at each other.

“We’re okay then?” Graeme asked and flashed that grin at me.

“Yeah, we’re okay. Friends forever.”

“Forever! Want to go and rest in the tent for a while?”

“I want to go in the tent, but I don’t know about resting.”

“Oh yeah! Let’s do that then.”

We climbed out, dried off, crawled into the tent and shut the world out for an hour or two. It was good.

Later, we went fishing, with Uncle Bert, down on the rocks at the harbour breakwater. It was something to do. I don’t like killing things though, especially for ‘sport’. That’s not fun. I told Uncle Bert that too.

He replied, “It’s not just for fun. Whatever we catch, we take it home and eat it. You eat fish, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah. If it’s already dead, I eat it. Otherwise it’d be wasted.”

“If it’s already dead, then somebody’s killed it.”

“I guess so. As long as it’s not me, it’s okay.”

“I don’t see your logic, Virgil.”

“Maybe his logic is really, really small, Uncle. You might need a magnifying glass to see it.”

“Shut up, Graeme. Mine’s just as big as yours.”

“I know that, but what about your logic?”



“I don’t think I want to know what you’re talking about, Boys,” Uncle Bert shook his head. “But it’s good to see you getting on together.”

“It is,” I replied. “It’s really good.”

“Really, really good,” Graeme agreed.

We exchanged grins. I liked this kid.

Graeme and I went to the movies later. It was okay, I guess. Pretty cool movie, lots of blood and guts, but then we had to walk home in the dark. It was a long way!

Aunt Iris supplied milk and cookies, for supper, when we got back, then we went out to the tent and the best part of the day began.

We didn’t do anything much for the rest of our time together there. Over the next couple of days, we didn’t go anywhere, just lay around, ate far too much, swum sometimes, listened to music, played games, watched a couple of DVD’s and talked – a lot.

We slept together in the house one night. It was raining and it was a bit cold. It was okay, but we agreed that we’d rather be out in the tent, it was more private out there. So what if it was cold? We could snuggle.

I liked Graeme. He was beautiful to look at, all over, and he was a good person. We thought alike about a lot of things, and the sex was great! He was as hungry as I was. However, he really wasn’t the brightest flame in the fire. I guess that being around Dennis had spoiled me a bit.

Graeme was a nice guy though. And sexy. Very sexy.

We took hundreds of photos of each other, both separate and together. They were for ‘remembering’ when we were at home and alone. Mum would kill me if she saw some of them. So she’s not going to.

My Story, 13

He rolled, side-on, hooked a leg across mine, rested an open hand on my chest and cuddled-up closer. I didn’t move.

“This okay, Virgil?”

“Yeah. Yeah, very okay. I like it.”

“Cool.” His head moved forward and he nuzzled my neck. “Want to play some more games?”

“Games?” I squeaked. “How? There’s no Playstation here.”

“No, but we have got joysticks.”

His hand slid down and wrapped around my oh-so-hard dick.

“Oh, yes,” I sighed and reached out and took hold of his joystick as well. “Great games! I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”

“I thought so. I’ve been wanting to too. We’ve wasted the day, let’s not waste the night.”

His soft, warm, hand moved up and down and it felt so good. Way, way good! I tried to do the same to him, but soon just lay back and enjoyed the feelings. No hands but mine, and Joel’s, had ever been down there and this was so much better! I was loving it – too much. In less than a minute I was exploding in the orgasm of my life.

Hot damm! Damm, damm and double damm!

I lay back and relaxed and, slowly, came back to earth. Graeme sat looking down at me. “You okay?”

“Oh yes! Very okay. Wow, Graeme, that was fantastic. Sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“I couldn’t hold on any longer. I don’t think I’ve ever come so fast, or so much either.”

“That’s cool. Don’t be sorry. Glad you liked it.”

“I loved it! Lie down now, I want to do it to you.”

“Only if you really want to.”

“Shut up! Of course I want to. I want to make you cum. Lie down, Lover.”

“Yeah.”

He kissed me, briefly, and then lay back, offering his glorious body – to me!

I took hold of his dick again, cupped my other hand around his balls, and started working on him. I’d had absolutely no experience of doing this to anyone but myself, but it wasn’t difficult and it was fun. It wasn’t hard to tell what he liked the most, he was thrashing around, oohing and aahing and ‘oh fucking’. However, he didn’t cum that time.

He stopped me and pushed my hand away. “Stop! Stop it, Virgil, wait a minute.”

“What’s the matter?” Both of my hands sprung off him and I sat back, worried. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“No,” he laughed and he came up and kissed me. “You’re not wrong, you’re doing great, but . . “

“But?”

“But, well, would you suck me? Please?”

“You want me to suck you? I would for sure, but I don’t know how to. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“So Virgil was a virgin? You’re not now. Lie back down and I’ll show you, I’ll do it to you.”

We changed places and that magic mouth went to work on me. Fuck it was good! It was fantastic. Apologies to Dennis here, but it was Fabulous! Fabulous, fabulous, fabulous! I felt like I was alive for the first time in my life. If this was sex, then gimme more! And more.

I didn’t last much longer than I had the first time. I came in his mouth and Graeme eagerly drained every drop. Then he came up and kissed me and I could taste myself in his mouth. It was hot!

“Lie down, you beautiful boy.” I pushed him off and changed places with him. I held his rigid dick in one hand, lifted it up, opened my mouth and took him in. I had a lot to learn about this, but there’s no better way of learning than to just do it.

I tried to do as he had done and I soon had him thrashing around in the same ecstatic state that I’d been in. Graeme didn’t last any longer than I had and he was soon shooting cum in my mouth. It was like sucking on a spurting hose. He could sure cum a lot!

He settled down and I sat back and grinned at him. “Well? Did I do all right?”

“You did great, Virgil. Really great. Come here and kiss me.”

“Oh yes!”

We didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. There was no time for sleeping, we had much better things to do. It was just great. I couldn’t think of a better person to lose my virginity to. Graeme was the best! Not only was he beautiful, all over, and hot, but he was such a great guy. I just adored him, all over.

Next morning at breakfast, Uncle Bert came into the kitchen and shook his head as he grinned at us sitting there together. “Boys! He shook his head. “I thought I told you not to talk all night. Maybe you’d better sleep inside tonight, Graeme.”

“No way!” Graeme protested. “I’m sleeping with Virgil. We’re having fun.”

“Okay then,” Uncle replied. “It’s only for a few days I suppose, but just remember that you need your sleep. You can always have your fun in the daytime.”

It was only for a few days, we’d be moving on soon. Damm and bugger it! I wondered if I could kidnap him and take him home and keep him in my bedroom? No, probably not.

“Virgil?” Graeme asked “Do you want to have some fun in the daytime?”

“Sure do, “I grinned. “All day and all of the night too.”

“You’ll wear me out,” he grinned back. “But, what a way to go!”

“Oh yes!”

“Speaking of having fun,” Aunt Iris said. “The carnival is still going, down at the Bay. I could drop you down there if you want to go for a few hours.”

“Sounds good, Aunty,” Graeme yawned. “But can we do that after lunch? I might go back to bed for an hour or two.”

Yawning was contagious, as always. I stretched my jaw muscles too.

We went back to the tent and stripped off. It was warm in there already, it was going to be a hot day. We lay on top of the covers and cuddled. I thought that we were going to have sex, but we didn’t. In 5 minutes we were both sound asleep.

We slept until lunchtime. Damm, I like being on holiday.

Gran woke us up, clapping her hands together and calling out. We could see her shadow on the roof of the tent. “Virgil? Graeme? Anybody alive in there?”

“I’m awake. Hey Gran, how’s the head?”

“It’s been better. Iris says for you to get up now. Go and have a shower and then lunch will be ready. We’re going to the carnival after lunch, so put some decent clothes on, okay?”

“Thanks, Gran. We’re coming.”

“There’s no time for that now. Just get out of bed.”

“Oh shit!” Graeme sat up and looked worried. “Do you think she knows what we’ve been doing?”

I just stretched and grinned at him. Man! He was so nice to look at. I wished that I could wake up like this every day.

“It’s okay. Settle down. Gran doesn’t know anything. She just thinks she’s being funny. She talks like that all the time.”

“Okay. I suppose you’d know.” He scrambled around for his clothes. “I’ll go and shower in the house. Are you coming with me or will you use the one in the housetruck? Oh, there won’t be any hot water in there, will there?”

“Of course there will, it’s solar heated, and gas too. But I’m not using it, there’ll more room in the house one. I’d love to come in with you, but we’d better not. You go first and I’ll wait for you.”

“Right. Thanks. See you soon.”

Graeme ran off and I got my clothes on. The tent stunk of boy sweat! So, I draped all of the bedding, including the sheet, over the clothes-lines. I left the pillows out on the patio deck and tied the tent-flaps wide-open.

Graeme came back, looking gorgeous in his fresh new clothes, and said that the shower was free, and, “No wanking in there. Save it for tonight.”

“You’ve got it! I’m saving all my loving for you. I’d better go and get my good clothes from the truck first.”

After lunch, Uncle Bert drove Mum, Gran, Graeme and I across town to Caroline Bay. He had to go to work, he was a boilerman at the hospital. He said he’d be back to collect us at 5 o’clock and if we weren’t there waiting, we’d be walking home.

Graeme and I were sweet for money. Mum, Gran, Uncle Bert and Aunt Iris had all given us some on the quiet and said not to tell the others. Hah! As if we would.

As soon as he dropped us off, up the hill above the bay, we lost Mum and Gran in the crowd and headed for side-show alley. Actually, I think that they went to the beer tent. I was glad that Graeme wasn’t into drinking.

We had a great time around the carnival, and, naturally, drew a lot of attention. Between my hair, which I was wearing loose because he wanted me to, and Graeme’s good looks, everybody was looking at us.

For once, I didn’t care, they could look all they liked. No-one knew me here anyway and I was proud to be with him. Hah! One thing started worrying me though. As the afternoon went on, we seemed to have a group of giggling girls hanging around and following us wherever we went. I tried to ignore them and keep moving, but Graeme didn’t. He was way too interested in them and he was lapping up all the attention.

We sat watching the open-air concert in the Sound Shell and they were all around us. Graeme was in no hurry, but I finally got him to move on. We went on the Ferris wheel and, somehow, we finished up with Graeme in one seat, with two girls, and me in another with two more. He looked like he was having a good time. I wasn’t. I was pissed! Bloody girls. I just wanted to get rid of them.

After that, we were walking through the crowd and they were still with us, like we were married or something. Two of them were hanging on to his arms. No! I did not want to go for a walk through the rhododendron gardens with any stupid girls. Graeme wanted to go and I could see the confusion in his eyes.

I was being stupid and jealous, I knew, but – dammit! I only wanted to be with him and these girls were getting in the way.

“Okay Virgil. If you don’t want to go, then we won’t. What do you want to do?”

“Graeme, if you want to go, then go. Don’t let me stop you. Please yourself.”

Just then, I was delighted to see a familiar face coming through the crowd. Joel was there! I’d never been so pleased to see him.

My Story, 12

Graeme came with me to the truck and, of course, I had to give him the guided tour.

“Gran’s bed is in the loft above the shower and the back-door there.”

“You’ve got a shower!”

“Of course it’s got a shower. It’s little, but it’s big enough. There’s a dunny too, over there. Mum’s bed is in the front loft, over the driver’s cab.”

“And where does Virgil sleep?”

“In my tent.”

“No, I mean, where do you sleep when you’re in the bus?”

“On the couch. It’s a real pain. It’s comfortable enough, but there’s no privacy and I hear every snore and every fart, and eww!”

“Double eww! Hey! You’ve got a TV.”

“Of course it’s got a TV – it’s got colour too, and a DVD. There’s a computer too – well, a laptop. No internet connection though, we have to go to internet cafes for that.”

“But you can still play games? It’s all very cool, Virgil, but I don’t think I’d like to live like this all the time.”

“No, neither would I.”

“But you do, don’t you?”

“No, we don’t live in here. Gran does but Mum and I live in a house. We’re just on holiday.”

“Oh, I see. Sorry. Not everyone’s got a granny with a house on wheels.”

“They don’t. Little Red Riding Hood would need a motorbike to go visit her.”

“There’s a motorbike on the porch at the back of the housetruck – a little motorbike.”

“Yeah, a 50cc Yamaha. That’s just Gran’s runabout for when she’s parked up somewhere.”

“Your Gran is very cool.”

“I guess she is. She’s just Gran.”

“Hard to believe that she’s Aunt Iris’ sister.”

“It is! I think Aunt Iris finds it hard to believe too.”

“I’m sure she does. Are we getting this tent out?”

“Yeah, we are. It’s all packed in here under the seat.”

I laid the air-mattress on the ground outside and plugged the pump into the cigarette lighter in the cab. We took the rest of the gear through to the backyard and returned for the mattress. It was a queen-size, of course, and it nearly filled the floor area of the small tent. There’d be plenty of room for two in there, especially if they got close.

We put the tent up, on the back-lawn, with the entrance facing toward the house. Well, I put the tent up. Graeme tried, but he wasn’t much help. He’d never done it before, I had, I’d had lots of practice.

We put the fitted sheet on the mattress and my two pillows and sleeping bag. It was a good quality bag, so I didn’t sleep in it, unless it was really cold, usually, I just left it unzipped and used it like a duvet. I’m sure you needed to know that.

Graeme brought the duvet and pillows out from his bed in the house, and laid them next to mine, and we were all set.

Then, we went inside to check-out what new DVD’s they’d bought since the last time I stayed there. There was nothing interesting, just old people’s movies.

“Want to come and see my room now?” Graeme asked.

“I’ve seen your room. That’s where I usually sleep when we’re here.”

“Of course it is. Come and see anyway, I’ve got my Playstation.”

“Cool. What games have you got?”

We spent the next hour or so in there, and then had dinner with the family. Aunt Iris really was a great cook; she could make anything taste good. Pity Mum and Gran never learned from her. No wonder Uncle Bert was a bit overweight too. She fed him too well.

After dinner, Graeme and I went out for a walk around the neighbourhood. There was a park just up the road a bit. It was disappointing though, there wasn’t much to it, just flowers and trees mostly. It did have a great fishpond though.

The avaries had gone. I wondered what they did with all the birds?

I was enjoying being with Graeme. He was not only very nice to look at, he was good company too. He was a nice kid and I liked him.

Back at the house, Mum and Gran had gone out for the night. ‘On the rantan’, according to Uncle Bert. He and Aunt Iris were watching TV. There was one of those stupid ‘reality’ shows on, so we went back to the bedroom to battle on the playstation.

“It’s great having you here, Virgil,” Graeme said as we settled down on the floor. “If you weren’t, I’d be stuck in there watching that crap on TV.”

“Yeah. It’s good to be here too. I’d rather watch paint drying than that garbage.”

“Me too! We think alike my friend.”

“We do; and now I’m gonna whip your arse.”

“You’ll try, Pussy.”

He started the game. It was a car-racing game and it was one that we both knew and liked. I couldn’t help wondering, exactly how much alike did we think? A lot, I hoped.

We had supper in the kitchen, with Aunt Iris, and then showered, separately, brushed our teeth and went outside to bed.

“Good night, Boys,” Uncle Bert said. “Don’t talk all night. Try to get some sleep and don’t pee on the vege garden during the night. We’ve got to eat that stuff!”

“I’ll leave the back-door unlocked,” Aunt Iris added. “Goodnight Boys.”

We went down the yard to the tent. We had flashlights, but didn’t need them, it wasn’t dark at all – there was a big, bright moon up there. We crawled into the tent, I left the flaps open but velcroed the mozzie screen shut.

When I turned around, Graeme was busy getting naked! He already had his jeans and briefs off and was peeling his t-shirt off. Still gorgeous!

“You don’t mind, do you, Virgil? I always sleep in the buff.”

“’Course I don’t mind. I sleep naked too, it’s more natural.”

“It is! More fun, too.”

‘Fun?’

We crawled into bed and stretched out, me under my sleeping-bag and Graeme, next to me, under his duvet. He fidgeted around a bit, and then sat up.

“No. This is no good. I’m never going to sleep like this. I can’t get comfortable.”

“What do you want then? You’re not going back inside, are you?”

“No way! I want to sleep here. We can try it like this.”

Graeme threw the duvet off, pulled the edge of my sleeping bag over him, and then spread the duvet across the both of us. He lay down again.

“There, that’s better.”

It was! Much better. I was now naked in bed with a beautiful boy and he was naked too! Way cool. I could feel the heat from his body already. Jealous? Yeah, you should be.

We lay there, side by side, talking quietly about this and that. Graeme said that he was stuck there for the holidays, with Bert and Iris, because his parents had gone to Fiji. He didn’t say why they didn’t take him. I was glad that they hadn’t.

“Fiji? I’ve got a friend at school, well, I did have, he’s going to a new school next year. His mother lives in Fiji and he goes there a lot.”

“Why doesn’t he live there with her?”

“Don’t know. She’s got a new boyfriend and Dennis lives with his grandparents. I suppose that it’s better for his schooling or something. He’s really bright, way more than me.”

“He must be really, really, bright then, you’re far from stupid.”

“Well, I try. How do you do at school?”

We continued talking about nothing much, mostly school and stuff. I was careful to give him a very edited version of my life at school. I was very much enjoying being there, with him, and we talked about lots of things, everything except what was really in my mind.

Things got hard, everything got very hard, when he moved closer and our naked bodies pressed together. I stopped talking, I couldn’t talk. I didn’t move away.

Graeme went all quiet too, and then he cleared his throat. “Well. Here goes nothing.”

(Gotta love cliffhangers!)

My Story (Rua), 11

I’m back!! Still no applause? Dammit!

Anywho. So far we spoken of the first year of our sojourn in Tiroroa. ( Know a lot of fancy words don’t I? I read a lot. Still have to check the spelling though.) Now, here’s the second half.

At the end of the year, school finished for the holidays. I didn’t get any awards at the break-up ceremony. I should’ve. Maybe I would’ve, but the competition was too tough. Denise took 3 of the 4 ‘Best in Class’ awards. They could’ve, at least, given me the other one, but – no.

We had Christmas in Tiroroa, just my mum and me. That was exciting. Then, we went on holiday; to Christchurch first – Yay!

It was disappointing really. I did try to catch-up with some of my old friends from Shirley Intermediate, but things had changed and it was not the same. Some of them were away on holiday, of course. Those that weren’t might as well have been. We just didn’t connect like we used to, everyone had changed. I guess I had too.

Mum couldn’t understand it. She had a great old time catching up with her old friends and couldn’t see why I didn’t. I think that kids change faster than old people do.

I was glad that we weren’t spending our whole time in Christchurch. Much more of this and I’d be happy to go back to Tiroroa. Never thought I’d be saying that!

I spent New Year’s Eve alone, in front of the tele. Sat up until midnight, watching other people celebrating, and went to bed 5 minutes later. Pathetic, eh?

At least I wasn’t sick the next day. To say that Mum and Gran were, would be the understatement of the year. Why did they do that to themselves?

My New Year’s resolution was that something had to be done about my life. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but things had to change. I was lonely and I didn’t like it.

I was getting on all right at school, no-one hassled me any more, but I had no close friends, not a one. I had acquaintances, but not friends. No-one but Denise wanted to get close to Lizzy in case people thought that they were gay as well. The campy queen act had served a purpose, but now I was regretting it and, kind of, wished we’d never started it.

Because of the ‘brewer’s asthma’, (hangovers), we were a day later leaving Christchurch than planned. But, that was okay, we were travelling in the housetruck anyway, so it didn’t matter.

We headed down through South Canterbury, passing through town after town. Some of them were sizable, but most were no more than a pub, a shop or two and some houses. Whoop-de-do.

I couldn’t believe the cost of running the housetruck. The fuel costs were horrendous, and there’s road-user taxes on top of that! Pity they couldn’t make bio-fuel out of marijuana, Gran’d be sweet.

We arrived, at last, in Timaru. It wasn’t really that far, but it seemed like it in the truck. It takes about 20 minutes by plane, in the housetruck, it took all day.

Coming into the town, by way of the heavy-traffic by-pass, we passed Caroline Bay, where the carnival was still going on. It’s an annual New Year’s thing there. That looked great. I’d decided that I’d have to check it out, but we didn’t stop, just carried on through to the south end of town – bloody miles away. Dammit!

We stopped, at last, at Gran’s sister’s place. Great!

Gran’s sister, my Great-Aunt Iris was as straight and conservative as Gran was not. It was always good staying there, she spoiled me rotten, I think that she felt sorry for me. Aunt Iris was a great cook. She was always baking cakes and stuff and she sewed too. Maybe I could get some of my jeans fixed? Her gardens were all vegetables and flowers, no marijuana anywhere. She grew huge strawberries too.

Funny though, I always got bored after a day or two staying there. I think that my Gran was more fun really.

However, this time, things looked good – there was a very interesting development. Uncle Bert’s nephew, Graeme, was staying there with them for the holidays.

Graeme was the same age as me, 14. I’d met him a few times, when we were younger. I was never really that keen on him, we didn’t have a lot in common, but – whoah! Things had changed!

Graeme was growing up and he was developing nicely. Let’s not muck around here, he was freaking gorgeous and he was hot! I wished that I was nicer to him when we were kids.

Don’t go thinking that every boy I met was picture-perfect, they weren’t. To a starving man, even a common old meat pie looks like a banquet, and I was hungry. Lots of boys looked good to me, however, in Graeme’s case, he really was a looker – very nice to look at.

His blond hair was darker, and longer, than it used to be, but his soft, smooth skin was still flawless. His eyes were huge, blue pools and his lips! They were like two red cushions stuck on his mouth. He was tall and so skinny that he seemed taller. He was still at that gangly stage where all his joints seemed loose. It was like a beautiful boy’s head on the framework of what would soon be a man.

The prospects of this holiday suddenly seemed a lot better. Better yet – when Aunt Iris said, “Well Boys. Aren’t you going to say hello to each other?” He grinned a shit-kicking grin as he stuck out his hand. I smiled back as I took it.

What? You think I swear too much? Stick around. Wait ‘til I’m really upset, you ain’t seen nothing yet! They don’t call me Mr. Potty-Mouth for no reason.

“Hey Virgil. Nice to see you.”

“Hey Graeme. Nice to see you too – really nice. Staying here on your own, are you?”

“Sure I am. I’m a big boy now.”

(‘You certainly are! Big and beautiful.’)

“So, you’ve been travelling all day? Do you fancy a swim?”

(‘A swim, with you? Whoah – endless possibilities!’) I couldn’t help thinking of the last time someone, Joel, had asked me if I wanted to swim with him.

“Sounds good. But where? The sea’s miles away from here.”

“It is, but there’s a pool in the back-yard. Uncle Bert bought himself one for Christmas.”

“He did? Great idea! Can we use the pool, Aunty?”

“Of course you can, Lovey. Use it all you like. Go and have fun, Boys.”

“Coo. Come out the back, Virgil.”

Graeme already had his swimming trunks on, but I was in my jeans and I wasn’t going to swim in them. I wasn’t swimming naked either – not in Aunty’s backyard.

“I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll just get changed in the truck.”

“’Kay. See you in the pool.”

He went one way and I went the other. I was only a couple of minutes and, when I went back through the house to the backyard, Graeme was already in the water. The pool was one of those above-ground plastic things. It was round, waist-deep and about 4 meters across. It wasn’t huge, but it was big enough for two.

I ran over, climbed the steps and cannon-balled into the water. When I surfaced, he was standing there grinning at me.

“Gee thanks. I’m all wet now!” He splashed some water at me and got some back. We splashed and played around a bit, but I was careful where I put my hands. However, I’ve gotta say, I did enjoy it when I flung my arms around that glorious, long, body and bulldozed him underwater. It was almost as much fun when he did it back to me.

Mum, Gran, Uncle Bert and Aunt Iris were all sitting around the patio table, sampling Bert’s home-brew. I hoped that they were going to behave themselves.

The play-fighting came to an abrupt end when I swallowed a load of water and it went down the wrong way! I fended him off, made my way over to the side and hung over the wall of the pool, coughing my guts out and gasping for air. My eyes were streaming too. Not fun.

“Oh shit, Virgil. Are you okay?” Graeme asked, worriedly.

“Do I look okay? No, I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute. I think I swallowed half the bloody pool.”

“Virgil?” Aunt Iris stood up. “Are you all right, Lovey?

Well, at least someone cared.

“I’m fine, Aunty.”

“All right then. I think that’s enough of the rough playing. Settle down now, Boys. You don’t want to go drowning your cousin.”

I sat on the bottom step with my head and shoulders out of the water. Graeme sat down next to me.

“We’re not, are we?” He asked.

“We’re not what?”

“You know, what she said. We’re not really cousins, are we?”

“Cousins? I dunno. Cousins by marriage, or something, maybe. It’d be really distant cousins anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess so. That’s a shame.”

“What’s a shame? Don’t you want to be my cousin?”

“Well, yeah, I do. But it’s a shame if we’re distant. I was hoping that we could get closer.”

He WHAT? Closer? What did he mean by that? I hoped he meant what I thought he meant.

“Yeah, so do I, Graeme. I hope that we get closer too.”

“Cool.” (There was that grin again. He could melt ice with that grin.)

“Way cool.” I leant sideways so that our shoulders were touching. “Close enough?”

“Well, it’s a start.” He pushed back against me.

Damm! I was certain of it – this boy was as ready to play as I was!

“So,” Graeme said. “Where are you sleeping tonight? In the housetruck?”

“Not likely! I only do that when I have to. I’ve got a tent, I’ll sleep in there. I’ll put it up in the backyard here.”

“You’re sleeping in the backyard? Cool. Is there room in the tent for two?”

“Yeah, there’s plenty of room, if you want to sleep with me.”

“I’d love to sleep with you, Virgil,” he whispered and grinned.

Hot Damm! I was sure of it. We were on a one-way street here!

“Yeah,” I grinned back. “I’d like to sleep with you too.”

We got out of the pool, dried off and cleared it with the groan-ups that we could camp out in the backyard.

Back Tomorrow

Hey Guys,

Come back tomorrow - we'll, hopefully, start Part Two then.

Meanwhile, if you want to look, Tiroroa is really, based on, Tapawera.
http://www.maplandia.com/new-zealand/nelson-marlborough/tapawera/ is a Google Map, if you'd like to check it out.

cheers

My Story, 10 (final)

Next morning, in the cold light of day, I was having second thoughts, wasn’t I? It was easy enough to get excited about this plan when Dennis was there, but now he wasn’t.

What if it didn’t work? It worked for him, but he was who he was and I was who I was. Could I really pull this off? What if it finished with me getting beaten-up or something?

No. That was not going to happen. Denise would be with me and, to hell with them anyway! The Pricks already hated me, how could it get any worse than it was?

But, once I ‘came out’, like we were planning, there’d be no going back. I’d be the campy queen forever. Could I do that? Did it matter? Dennis might not be gay, but I was.

You know what? Fuck’em! I was not one of them and I never would be. I had no intentions of living around here any longer than I had to anyway. As soon as I could, I’d be out of there and, yeah – I really wanted to hit back and shut them down. Pricks!

We were going to do this.

Despite my resolution, I was still really nervous when I headed over to the school at my usual time. I wanted to, but I still wasn’t sure if I could go through with this. Hey! I was still just a kid, wasn’t I?

My heart was in my mouth and beating wildly as I walked into the school through the locker-room. I didn’t use my allocated locker, but still had to go through the room.


It all turned out to be much easier than I had expected, (and feared!). Denise was there, dithering around in her locker and giving everyone a running commentary on what she was looking for. She grinned and winked at me as I walked past. There were just a few other kids still in there, mostly girls. Why do girls take ten times as long to do anything?

Jillian Carew, a nasty baggage if ever there was one, blocked my way and looked me up and down with a sneer. “What’ve you done to your hair, you Little Faggot?”

(I hadn’t done much at all really – just tied it tighter and higher on my head than it usually was. It made for a huge ponytail.)

“Darling!” I squealed. (It was mostly nerves, but it worked anyway). “When I need fashion tips from a Front-Bum, I’ll be sure to come to you. However, there’s no time right now.”

A Front-Bum? Dunno where that came from, but it worked. A couple of the others burst out laughing and Carew went all red in the face. She stepped back, like she was in shock or something. I walked on, feeling like I was 10 feet tall.

“Burn!! Sweetheart!” Denise squealed as she came tripping after me. “Well done, my Little Virgin. Don’t let the Front-Bums grind you down!”

She linked arms with me and, laughing aloud, we burst together into the room for our first class. Everyone sat gawking at us, but no-one said a word.

“Where shall we sit today?” Denise camped it up. “Right here! In the middle where everyone can look and admire us.”

We settled down, together, in the centre of the room.

“Ohmigod! Just what we need, another one. Denise has had a baby!”

I turned and batted my eyes at Gregory Brown. “Are you my Daddy, Gwegowy?”

“Not bloody likely! Don’t talk to me, you little Queer.” He lost himself in his book.

(‘Hah! Easy!’) This was fun – most fun I’d had for weeks. Denise was so right. They could dish it out, but they couldn’t take it. Not in public anyway. Mind you, I’d still be worried about meeting any of them after dark. We’d just have to make sure that that didn’t happen.

The day went on and I was having a wonderful time. Right again, Denise. We made a great double-act and I was having fun. I even caught teachers grinning at us a couple of times.

One teacher wasn’t smiling though, she was scowling. My mum was obviously not impressed at all. We’d be talking about this. Ah, whatever! That’d be later and this was now.

I really think that I should be on a stage There was a real ham actor inside of me. Fun, fun, fun.

Mr. Stafford wasn’t smiling either, but he wasn’t scowling. I don’t think he knew what to make of the new me. After they got over the initial shock, some kids, mostly girls, were playing along with us and encouraging the show.

(That’s a funny word, ‘initial’. Three ‘I’s’, go figure! It doesn’t look right, but it is – I checked.)

After lunch, which I had at home, alone, we went out for sports. Well, most of us did. Denise didn’t; she was excused from all sports because she had a doctor’s certificate that said that she had to be. It was probably all a lot of rubbish, but the school couldn’t argue with a doctor.

So, Denise went to the library, and I went, with everyone else, to the sportsfield. I don’t know, it might’ve been for my benefit, but that day Mr. Stafford was trying something new. We weren’t playing football, or any other contact sport, instead, we were going for a cross-country run.

‘Cool. As long as no bugger trips me, I’ll be all right here.’

Distance running was the one sport that I was good at.

Mr. Stafford explained that we were to run down the main road through the village, across the bridge over the river and out to the old Forest Service Headquarters out on the back-road. Returning, we were to run around the road at the back of the village and back to school through the side-entrance.

We had to do some stretching and warm-up exercises, then lined up and he fired his starter’s pistol and everyone headed off. (Yeah, he was a bit of a ham too!) The accompanying teachers were in their cars. That’s not fair!

For a while, I was flapping along at the back with the most useless and disinterested runners, but I soon got tired of that. I decided, ‘Dammit! I’m going to run. I can do as good as any of this lot.’

For the first time in the day, I got serious and I started running as hard as I could, easily overtaking runner after runner. Nobody wanted to be overtaken by the queen, but I gave them no choice. I was determined and I was good at this.

I’d like to say that I won the race, but I didn’t. I came in a very creditable second though, close behind the winner and miles ahead of anyone else. Sheesh! You’d think that country kids would be fitter!

The winner was Joel. Well, he was bigger and stronger than I was and I couldn’t quite beat him. Shame that he wasn’t still hung-over from Saturday night, then I would’ve had him. Still, pretty good, I thought. A good result for a year 9 kid.

Mr. Stafford thought so too. He was delighted, he said. Mum was delighted too, so that got me off the hook over the rest of my behaviour that day. Well, almost.

We had a long talk about it that night. She was not convinced that it was the right thing to do, but she let it go. I would ‘just have to be very safety conscious, there’s some bad people out there.’

I actually never had any trouble in all the time that I kept the act up. I guess that it was a small town where everybody knew everybody, and I was lucky, very lucky.

And that was the beginning of my new life in Tiroroa. It was much better than what I’d had before. I guess it’s true what they say, “Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you’ll cry alone.” Everybody loves a clown.

There’s nothing much to say about the rest of the year. Life went on – same old, same old. Joel was okay. We were never going to be close friends, but we weren’t enemies.

I did see a fair bit of him out of school. His father and my mother were an on-again, off-again item, they tended to blow a bit hot and cold. We all got together for meals and outings sometimes, and all went to Wellington for a weekend once.

Joel and I got on okay. He did hint, sometimes, about sex, but I wasn’t interested. He was a bit too much in love with drinking for my liking and, besides, it would almost be like incest, wouldn’t it? Him screwing me, while his father did the same to my mother? Eww!

So, the year rolled on. Weeks turned into months. Denise and I were a great double-act at school. Lotsa laughs! I was renamed ‘Lizzy’. Lizzy? It’s short for Elizabeth, the Virgin queen. That was me – almost a virgin and almost a queen.

Actually, Queen Elizabeth the 1st made a speech to the troops at Tilbury, when they were waiting for the Spanish Armada to invade – “I am come amongst you, as you see, at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and my people, my honour and my blood, even in the dust.

I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a King of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe should DARE to invade the borders of my realm!”

Stirring stuff! I didn’t mind being named after Elizabeth. (You can keep the dresses, but I wouldn’t mind the jewels – that’d be nice!) One day, I’m going to travel. I’m going to Virginia in the US. That was named after her too.

Christmas came around and everything changed again – dammit! I was just getting comfortable with the way things were, but nothing stays the same. Denise finished school at the end of the year, and she wouldn’t be back

Dennis, not Denise, was going to a classy boarding school in Wellington. I was pleased for him, in a way. That brain of his needed more that Tiroroa High had to offer, but – bugg’rit! I was going to be alone again.

We were to spend almost two years in Tiroroa. That was the first year. I’ll tell you about the second one when I’m back – if I’m back. ‘Bye.

My Story, 9

After school, I went straight home, of course. Mum wasn’t there, she had a staff meeting, so that should keep her out of trouble for a couple of hours. Gran was well gone, she’d be halfway to the Coast by then.

I let Jimmy off the chain. He had it in a terrible tangle – dumb dog! I straightened up and turned around. Denise was standing there, looking at me.

“Umm. Hi Denise. Did you want something?”

“Hey Virgil. I want to talk to you. Can we go inside where everyone’s not looking at us? The show is over for today.”

What the hell did he mean by that? I looked back over at the school and, yes, there were people standing there, staring at us.

“You want to come inside? Yeah, let’s do that. Come on in.”

I led the way into the house. Jimmy was being a bit strange. He wasn’t dancing around my legs like he usually did, instead, he was just hanging around Denise. Something told me that Jimmy liked Denise. You can just tell sometimes.

In the kitchen, I flicked the electric kettle on.

“Can I get you a drink or something, Denise?” I think there’s beer in the fridge, if Gran hasn’t knicked it.”

“No. No beer. I never drink the vile stuff. A coffee would be good, thank you. Black and two sugars. Don’t call me Denise. My name is Dennis.”

Dennis, not Denise? What was going on here? He was like a different person.

“Okay, sure. Dennis it is then, but it’s been Denise all day at school today.”

“It has, but that was at school. I told you, the show’s over for today.”

“The show? So it was all an act then? The Denise thing, I mean.”

“Denise is a thing, isn’t she? Yes, of course it’s an act. The campy queen is my defence against the ignorant bullies. Now we have to find a defence for you as well.”

“For me?”

“Yes, for you. They’ve been giving you a hard time and making your life a misery. That’s got to stop and it’s going to, as soon as we figure out how to deal with it. Are you gay?”

“Am I gay? Do you know, that’s the first time anyone’s asked me that?

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. They’re all just a pack of small-town, small-minded hicks. So, are you? Not that it matters a lot, but it would be useful to know.”

“Well, yeah, I am, I think. Are you gay?”

‘Shit! I never thought I’d be asking Denise that!’

“No, I’m not gay. I did wonder for a while, but it turns out that I’m not.”

“You’re not?” (‘Damm. How many surprises can one day bring?’) “Why do you keep up the act then?”

“Because it works, and I’m kind-of type-cast now. Maybe you could try the same thing. Bat your eyes at them, squeal and flutter your hands around and they back-off at 100k’s an hour.”

“You really think that would work?”

“Sure it would. It works for me. We could have fun with this. Imagine 2 Denises in the same room! They’d be shivering in their shoes.”

“Fun? That’s something that’s been missing lately.”

“So I’m told. So, do you want to try it? Or we could try something else. You should know that if you come across as a campy queen, no-one’s going to want to be alone with you. You’ll never get a boyfriend around here.”

“I wouldn’t want to be friends with any of that lot anyway. You’re the first decent person I’ve met around here. Well, I guess Joel’s okay, sometimes.”

“Joel Stafford? No, he’s a lost cause. He’s a closet queer if ever there was one.”

“You think so? I have, sort of, wondered.”

“Of course he is, Daaarling!” He fluttered. “Denise knows!”

“I think you’re right. What the hell, let’s shock ‘em.”

“That’s the story. Illegitimus non carborundum.”

“Ille what? What does that mean?”

“It’s pig-latin, Kid. Illegitimus non carborundum means ‘don’t let the bastards grind you down’. Makes a good motto for life, I think.”

“I think you’re right. So, how do we go about this?”

“We just have to make you Fabulous, Darling!” Denise answered.

“Umm, Dennis? Can you not do that? When we’re alone, I’d rather talk to Dennis, not Denise.”

“You’ve got it, my friend. I get tired of Denise too.”

“Thanks. How do we make me fabulous?”

“Easy. You can’t wear make-up to school. That’s in the uniform code and they get really uptight about it. However, you can be as campy and outrageous as you like, the more the better. Flame throwers work best on a ‘high’ setting.

The school has signed up for an anti-discrimination policy, so they can’t shut you down. Just follow my lead, gush all over everybody and call them ‘Darling’. We’ll make a great double-act. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah! It will be. Thanks for helping me. You’re a good guy. I hope we’re going to be friends.”

“I’m sure we will. But friends is as far as it goes – I’m not gay, remember. Now, where’s this drink? Then, I want to hear your life story; I want to know all about Virgil Cain. I think that you’d better feed man’s best friend here too. I think he’s hungry.”

“Jimmy’s always hungry. I think that he thinks he’s a teenager.”

I took care of business and then we sat and talked. I told him all about me and learned some things about him. His parents had split. Dad lived up north with his new family and Mum was in Fiji with her boyfriend. Dennis lived with his grandparents. His Granddad had the cartage and contracting business down the road, opposite the pub.

His grandparents didn’t know what to make of him, but they loved him anyway. No, he didn’t want to swap grandmothers with me – but my one sounded like fun. I supposed she was really, in a trippy kind of way.

It was hard to believe, but he was still only 13. He seemed like he was much older. Dennis really was a bright kid. Maybe he was a genius or something? People said that I was ‘old for my years’, I still felt like a kid next to him.

Mum arrived home, Dennis switched off and Denise came back. Well, I supposed that Mum was a teacher, so she was the enemy, kind-of. Denise didn’t do manual classes. Some girls did, but not her.

“Fingernails, Darling! All those nasty machines just waiting to munch them up! I don’t think so!”

Denise left shortly after. She had to go and dazzle the town, or something. Mum wanted to talk. She was concerned about my being around Denise. That would only make things worse for me, wouldn’t it?

“No Mum, it won’t. Trust me on this. Dennis is a good guy and he’s going to help me.”

“I just don’t see how.”

“Believe me, he’s not what he seems and he knows what he’s doing.”

“I hope you’re right, Honey. They do say that he’s very bright.”

“He is and he’s a good friend.”

“Well, I suppose that you need all the friends you can get. How was Joel today?”

“Okay, I guess. I didn’t see much of him.”

We had dinner at the pub that night. We often did something like that when Gran left on her travels. Funny really, Mum and Gran do get on well together, but I think she likes to feel free of her mother sometimes.

I went to bed that night much happier than I’d been. It seemed that I had the most unlikely allies popping up all over the place.

My Story, 8

Monday morning came around all too soon, and I dragged myself back to school for another day in hell. By now, I had the routine sorted and I arrived at exactly the time when they were going in to their classes.

I didn’t use the locker room any more, just carried my books and stuff home, it was only a few meters more.

I didn’t have much hope, but, maybe things would be better? Joel had said that he was going to help me, but would he? Probably not after that Saturday night. I really had to learn to keep my big mouth shut. Could I? Probably not.

I went into the classroom and sat in my usual place, alone and in front of the teacher. Then, incredible things happened and my life changed again. The door crashed open and the most amazing person burst into the room. Talk about your grand entrances! Every head turned and every eye in the place was focused on him.

“Hello, Daarlings!” He shouted. “I know you missed me! You can stop crying now – I’m baaack!”

Ohmigod! Who, or what, was this? I’d never seen anything like it. He was in a school uniform, of course – well, you had to, but it was like no other uniform.

His sneakers were more beige than brown and he had no socks on that I could see. Most kids’ shorts were long-legged and baggy, mine were too, but not his. His blue shorts were really short, really, really short, and they were so tight that they looked like they’d been painted on. He had a huge bulge in his crotch, maybe that was where his socks were?

His gleaming-white school shirt, by contrast, was way too big – about 6 sizes too big, and it billowed around him like a cloud. His eyebrows were black, but his medium-length hair was an impossible brassy-blond colour.

He wore glasses, amazing glasses. They were big and round and covered half of his face and the frames were fluorescent pink! Ohmigod again.

The book-bag slung over his shoulder was a hodge-podge of garish colours and, I wasn’t sure, but I thought that his fingernails were painted. It was hard to tell, they never stayed still. His hands flapped around in the air as he flounced around the room, greeting people by name.

Ever seen anyone flounce? That’s what he did – bigtime! He made a full circuit around the room and then stopped in front of me.

“And what have we here?” he squealed. “Oh, Sweetheart! Look at you – you’re gorgeous! Oh, be still my heart. That settles that then, we shall sit here today, in front of teacher.”

He planted himself in the seat next to me and smiled at the teacher.

“Hello, Miss Simons. Did you miss me?”

“I’m not sure if we missed you, Denise, but it was certainly quieter around here. Did you have a good holiday?”

“Oh, yes! It was fabulous! Fiji is divine and, look at my suntan! I’m even more beautiful now.”

“Beautful, is it? And what have you done to your hair now?”

“It’s sun-bleached, Darling.”

”Sun-bleached? Bottle-bleached, more likely. Okay, Denise, you’ve returned. Can we settle down and get to work now?”

“But of course! You teach and we shall soak up your pearls of wisdom. That’s why we’re here!”

“Sometimes I wonder. Okay, Class, page 23 please.”

So this was Denise. Denise? That was a girl’s name, wasn’t it? I wasn’t sure what this person was, but he was no girl. What on earth was he? Where had I heard that name before? Oh, yeah. On my first day here, those bitch girls said that I’d be a playmate for Denise. So, THIS was Denise. Wow.

He, she? It? Did settle down and the lesson started. Turns out, Denise was actually a very good scholar, easily the brightest kid in the school, which was probably why the teachers let him get away with the outrageous behaviour. I should be so bright.

We broke for recess and he was up and gone. “Later Darlings. Time to catch-up on the news! Love the hair by the way.”

He said that last to me, of course, and then he was gone – flounced out of the room. I stood shaking my head.

“Now you’ve met the Denise.” One of those self-same bitches said to me. “What do you think?”

“Think? Dammed if I know.”

“Yeah. Denise is something else, isn’t she?”

He, or she, certainly was.

I talked to Joel during the recess. He actually approached me first and, with a sheepish grin, said, “How’s it, Virgil? I hear that the fabulous Denise has returned and declared undying love for you already.”

“Hey Joel. I’ve met the Denise. I don’t know what to make of him.”

“No-one does. Don’t underestimate him, he’s very bright. If he wants to be your friend, well, do it. He’d be a better friend than an enemy.”

“Wouldn’t anyone? How about us, are we going to be friends?”

“Sure we are, if you want to. I had a good time Saturday night, I think. I don’t really remember much about it. I was a bit wasted wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, you could say that. I had a good night too. It was mostly good, except for when we argued again.”

“Argued? Did we? I wasn’t going to do that. Well, it’s over now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s over. Thanks.”

“Cool. I’ve gotta go, Carol’s batting her eyes at me. Later, Virgin.”

“Yeah. Laters.”

I returned to my book. It was a good way of avoiding the eyes and I could, almost, forget where I was. Amazingly, no-one else spoke to me, or, as they usually did, at me. I didn’t think about it at the time, but something had changed.

I would’ve been happy if they all just ignored me. I could handle that.

When I went home for lunch, there was nothing cooking and Gran was busy packing up the house-truck.

“Feed yourself, Virgil, I’m busy. I should be on the road by now.”

“Okay. Where are you off to now?”

“Don’t know really. I’ll head down to the Coast for a start, there’s some old friends that I want to catch up with, and then, I don’t know, back to Christchurch maybe.”

“Christchurch? Cool. Can I come with you?”

“No you can’t. Don’t be silly. Lock the house when you go back to school.”

“Of course. ‘Bye then, Gran.”

“Goodbye, Sweetie. Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

“Is there anything that you wouldn’t do?”

“Not a lot, probably. Be good, Boy.”

“Well, that’s one thing that you wouldn’t do.”

“Cheek! Get away with you.”

Gran was gone by the time I’d had a sandwich and closed up the house. I checked Jimmy’s water-dish and I went back to school where I was greeted, loudly, by Denise.

“Darling! Where have you been, Sweetheart? We thought you’d left us for another!”

“Hey Denise. I just went home for lunch. My name’s Virgil, by the way.”

“Virgin!! What an adorable name! You’re not, are you?”

“Not what? Oh. That’s for me to know.”

“And us to find out? Wonderful! Your hair is fabulous, but we should put some colour in it – give it some life.”

“Don’t think I want life in my hair. It’s okay as it is.”

“No? That’s a shame. We shall have to educate you, My Darling. How long is it when it’s out? Can you sit on it?”

“Yeah, I can. Just, but I can.”

“Fabulous! We wish that we could. Our hair is way too short. Maybe we can sit on yours sometime?”

“Sit on my hair? Well, maybe.”

“That’s a date then! Now come and tell us all about yourself. Where have you been all our life?”

“Where? Well, Christchurch mostly, I guess.”

“Christchurch? No, boring place. Boring, boring, boring! We shan’t be living there.”

“We? I don’t know about you, but I’ll be living there. The sooner the better. I like Christchurch.”

“Oh no, Sweetheart! Boring! You can do so much better than that. We shall have to educate you.”

“Educate me? Good luck!”

“Oh, yes! We do like a challenge. We like you too, you’re interesting. We need more interesting people around here. Show us your nails.”

“Nails?”

“Fingernails, Darling. We want to see them. Oh no! That will never do. You so need a manicure!”

“A manicure? No I don’t. I just cut them when they need it.”

“No, no no. You need more than that. Look at mine! We used to bite them you know. Look at them now – Fabulous! It’s the little details that make up the big picture. Darling, you’re sweet, but you need work.

You shall be our project. Our mission will be to make you fabulous, all over!”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Then all the little bitches will stop picking on you, Darling.”

Okay. Something told me that there was more to this boy than you thought at first. He was loud, in your face and outrageous, but there was more to him. I kinda liked him.

My Story, 7

Our meals arrived and I tried to relax and enjoy myself, but it was not easy. Mum really had excelled herself. Coming here with these people was all her idea, I didn’t want to do it, and that’s putting it mildly, but she insisted and I was glad she did.

It seemed that I had two less enemies now and I’d gained two allies. Choice! I was still a bit wary, this all seemed too good to be true. After the time I’d had lately, having people actually being nice to me was – well, different. It was Joel who’d started all this crap, but I was prepared to let that go. If he could help put an end to it, that’d be good. Way good.

And, he was bloody cute in his new clothes. He did scrub-up nicely.

The food really was great, generous servings and good quality stuff. This was a classy joint, way better than Maccas which was more our usual style. Either that or Bilious Burgers, which was where we usually ate. Still, I could get used to this – if someone else was paying.

The “adults” finished off their beers and then a second one each. Then they started on the wine, red wine of course. They were there to party. I wasn’t interested in the wine, but Joel was. He tried asking, a couple of times, but it didn’t work. He wasn’t allowed any.

Mum and Mr.S were getting totally wrapped-up in each other and not paying much attention to us. Joel dropped something on the floor, (“Whoops”), and he ducked down below the table after it. I felt a couple of tugs on my trouser leg and I bent down to look at his grinning face.

He put his finger to his lips, in the old ‘shush’ sign, and showed me the half-flask of vodka that he had with him. Where the hell had he been hiding that? Strapped to his leg, it turned out. He poured a good splash into his raspberry and coke and held up the bottle, offering me some. ‘No thanks’, I shook my head and sat up again.

I hope I’m not coming across as some sort of prude here, but booze and drugs do nothing for me, they’re for losers. Ask my Gran, she’s always surrounded by them.

Anyway, as the meal went on and the food vanished, the adults were paying attention only to each other and no-one but me noticed how many times Joel and his drink disappeared below the table-top. The level in his glass stayed about the same, but the colour was getting lighter and lighter. I thought that I should help him, so I asked for another drink.

Mr. S gave me some money and I went down to the bar for fresh drinks for Joel and I. When I got back, Joel stood up and said, “I’m going to the loo. Do you want to come with me, Virgil?”

‘To the toilet, with him? That’s what girls do, isn’t it?’ Whatever.

“Yeah, okay. I could do with a slash.”

As soon as we got into the ‘mens’, Joel produed and lit-up a joint. Marijuana. I’d know that smell anywhere, I grew up with it. He offered me a toke, but I said no.

“No thanks – not my weakness. I don’t do drugs.”

“C’mon Kid, loosen up. The night is young and so are we. Have some fun!”

“I said no! You have your fun all by yourself, I’m not.”

“Suit yourself.”

I had a slash and washed up, even though I didn’t pee on my fingers, and then went outside to wait for him. Well, it’d be a bit sus if we returned separately, wouldn’t it? We were still not the best of mates, but I didn’t want to drop him in it.

We had dessert. Ever tried fish-flavoured ice-cream? Don’t bother, it’s disgusting! Joel had polished off his flask, the bottle was on the floor. He went back to the loos before we’d finished. Dork had his lighter and a joint in his fingers before he even got to the door. No-one else noticed.

“Right Boys,” Genial Dick, our happy host, smiled as he pushed some money across the table. “’Tash and I are going to a night-club for a couple of hours. You can’t come because you are just boys and they wouldn’t let you in. Here’s $20 each, we’ll drop you off in the centre of town and you can go and do whatever it is that kids do in the city on a Saturday night. Have a coffee, play some video games, terrorise the neighbourhood, whatever.

He paid the bill – there went half a week’s teacher’s wages. We went back to the car and Mum drove us into the city. She shouldn’t have been driving with the drinks she’d had, but, whatever. There were no cops around and she’s had plenty of practice.

She parked in the street outside, and they disappeared up the stairs to the Top Cat, night-club and bar. They left instructions for us to be back at the car by midnight.

“Alone at last,” Joel grinned. “Wanna make out?”

“Not bloody likely! What are we going to do, Joel? We’ve got 3 hours.”

“First we’ll have a wee drink, and then we’ll go and find some action.”

He produced another bottle, (Dramburie), from under the seat and had a swig. “Want some?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Suit yourself. You don’t know what you’re missing. This is good stuff.”

He had another swig and then he lit, yet another, joint. I got out and stood on the sidewalk while he smoked that. Smoking dope on your own is just sad really.

He wasn’t alone for the next one. Walking up Trafalgar Street, we met up with a couple of kids from school, and they all sat, smoking and drinking, on the steps up to the cathedral, while I kept an eye out. I didn’t appreciate the ‘babysitting’ comments, but it was better than what I usually got.

All of the money, including mine, went on more drinks from an Off-Licence. They were drinking ‘Alcopops’ which is a cheap and nasty stuff, made for and targeted at teenagers. It suits the breweries to get them hooked while they’re young, I guess.

I just had the privilege of watching the idiots drink themselves silly. Actually, I thought that the others were putting the drunk act on a bit. Joel wasn’t, he’d had a head start on them.

The heart of the city was humming on a Saturday night, lots of colour, lights and life. It was an exciting place to be, if you were over 18 and had lots of money to spare. We weren’t and we didn’t, so we sat in the shadows, on the cathedral steps, and watched while some of us got drunk. What an exciting night!

I should’ve stayed home and watched tele.

We did walk, (stagger/reel), down and back the length of the main street once. It didn’t take long, it wasn’t far. What we mostly did was to sit on the steps and watch the world go by. Kinda cool.

Joel said something about how he couldn’t wait until he got his own car. Yeah, that’d be fun in the state he was in. I don’t think.

The others hooked-up with some other kids and they left us to go and have a feed and annoy the people in the burger place. We didn’t go with them, we were broke again and I wasn’t hungry, for once!

Joel and I were left sitting in the shadows and he started getting amorous, but I was having none of that! Maybe I would think about it if he was sober, maybe. But he wasn’t, he was drunk, and stoned, and – eww! I fended him off. It wasn’t easy either, even though I was sober and he wasn’t.

As the night went on, there were some shady-looking characters out on the streets, so I was glad to agree when Joel wanted to go back to the car. He'd be handy to have around, if he was sober, but, right then, he’d be useless.

We made our way back down the street, he was pretty wasted and acting dumb. Who was babysitting who now? He stopped once and peed in one of the big planter-boxes lining the edge of the street. It’d help to water the flowers, he said. I did try to get him to, at least, go and do it in one of the dark alleys between the shops, but he wouldn’t.

He just flopped his dick out and did it in the full view of everyone walking past. Funny thing though, none of the people looked at him, they all looked somewhere else. I still found it bloody embarrassing. Joel didn’t, he just peed and giggled and told everyone how much he needed it. Nice dick too, even soft it was huge.

The traffic was pretty quiet, there were more people walking than driving, but there were still a few cars going past. Some of them were way too fast and too noisy too. The ‘car-boys’ were out cruising the streets.

Joel nearly got himself run-over when he staggered out across an intersection without looking. He would’ve been history if I hadn’t grabbed his arm and pulled him back out of the way. The car roared off down the street with the horn blaring.

Sheesh! Who’d have thought it? Before that night, I would’ve happily pushed him out and waved goodbye. Instead, I think I save the dork’s life, again. Did he thank me? Did he hell! He just stood and screamed out about the parents of the people in the car. They weren’t married, apparently, among other things.

Back at the car, I stood and waited while Joel fumbled around and searched for the spare key which was hidden above the front-right wheel. In the end, I pushed him out of the way and found it myself.

I opened the car, we got into the back seat and had a humungous argument. Joel wanted to do stuff which was probably impossible in his condition and I was not having it. I wasn’t kissing him either, it’d be like kissing an ash-tray or something.

I told him about his own parentage and what I thought of drunks and stoners, and then I climbed over and sat in the driver’s seat, away from his groping hands.

“Fuck off, Stafford!”

He went all quiet in the back-seat. I thought he might’ve been sulking or something, but when I looked back, he was sound asleep, sitting upright with his face smeared up against the window. His mouth was open and a line of drool hung out of it. Not a pretty sight.

His jeans were wide-open and pushed down around his hips. Yeah, despite everything, that was a pretty sight. I couldn’t leave him like that, so I crawled back over and closed his clothes up.

Yeah, I admit it, I did have a bit of a feel-around while I was at it. I couldn’t resist and he didn’t wake-up anyway. Another time, another place, that could be a dream come true, but, no.

I got him sort-of decent looking and went back to the front. I couldn’t leave him exposed like that for the parents to see. I needn’t have bothered, they wouldn’t have noticed anyway.

When they came rolling down the stairs, the parents were no more sober than Joel was. Damm! My mum’s loud and screechy when she’s pissed. Once a slapper, always a slapper, I guess. There was no way around it, it was a long way home and I was the only sober one there – so, I drove us home.

Yeah, I was unlicensed and way underage, but they were too drunk to drive. It was not a problem, I’d been driving for years, Gran taught me. I was driving her house-truck when I was only 10 or something.

It was a quiet trip home. Once they’d all settled down, the drunks went to sleep and I was, more or less, alone. They all woke up when I pulled in and parked outside the Stafford’s house. Joel got out, puked in the flower-bed, and then staggered inside. I went with him to make sure that he got to bed all right.

He didn’t want to take his clothes off, so I just pulled off his shoes and covered him up. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. Someone with less scruples than me could’ve done anything to him, he’d never know.

I put a bucket by the bed, turned the lights off and left him to it. His head was going to be so sore in the morning!

The car, and the parents, had gone from the driveway. I should’ve hung on to the keys, but didn’t think of it. Oh well.

I walked the short distance home and they were there, of course. They were in the kitchen with loud music going and shouting at each other as they made coffee.

‘Great! Wide-awake Drunks, just what I needed.’

I went to bed, shut the doors and left them to it. I’d had enough of babysitting for one night and, I didn’t want to know what was going to happen next.

“Well, that was an interesting first date.”

I turned the light off and went to sleep