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.