Kaimoana Tales,Lachlan & Gary, 61

Back at the house, they walked into the crowded kitchen. One of Cherie’s friends had gone home but the other one was still there. Lachlan’s parents had arrived home from work and were sitting at the table.

The old lady looked around and smiled. “Are you going to stay, Gary? Good, good. Move along, Girls. Make some room for him.”

Gary sat down behind the table, next to Lachlan’s sister and her friend. Lachlan sat at the end opposite his father. Both Mrs’s. Mclaughlin, junior and senior, would be on the other side. (Mrs’s?)

“Mum? Dad? You know Gary, don’t you?”

Mr. McLaughlin grunted and nodded at his paper, but Lachlan’s mother smiled and said, “Yes, of course. Hello Gary. Have you got enough room there? Move along a bit more, Girls.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine thanks. Stay where you are, Girls. Umm, Hey, Everybody.”

“Hello. Gran, Cherie and Grace have been telling us about how you made magic music on the old piano. I’d love to hear it. Are you going to play for us, after dinner?”

“Well, I’ll try. I get a bit embarrassed.”

“I hope you will. It sounds like you’ve got no reason to be embarrassed, you’ve got fans here.”

“Fans?” Gary blushed. “I don’t know about that.”

“Of course you have!” The old lady came over with plates for Gary and her son. “As soon as your fan club starts, I’ll be joining. Do they still have fan clubs? We’ve got steak and kidney stew with Yorkshire Pud. And you eat some, Lachlan! You can’t live on nothing.”

“I eat enough, Gran. Moderation is the key.”

“Just don’t starve yourself, that’s all.”

“Leave him alone, Mum.” Lachlan’s father looked up. “Lachlan’s doing all right. Well done, Boy, and thanks for cutting and stacking the wood. I thought I was coming home to a mess and you’ve already cleaned it up.”

“Thanks, Dad. It was good exercise and Gary helped too.”

“You did? Thanks, but I’m not paying you.”

“This great meal is more than enough payment. It was good to help.”

“Yeah? Good to have a friend too.”

“It’s good. It’s really good,” Lachlan grinned.

The old lady brought over the rest of the meals and sat down at the table. “Here we are then. Cherie, would you like to say grace?”

“Yeah, okay.” Cherie bowed her head and said, “Two, four, six, eight, bog in and don’t wait.”

“Cherie! I wish that someone would be serious around here for once. Eat up, everybody. Don’t let it get cold.”

There was not much chance of that. The heaped meals disappeared in no time flat, even Lachlan’s. Gary really enjoyed it – good food and good company. It was a long since he’d sat and eaten with a family. He liked the banter around the table.

He’d met the old lady a few times before, she was a sweetie. Lachlan’s parents were nowhere near as grumpy as he’d been led to believe. They were okay.

He also liked the way everyone washed their own dishes when they were finished.. They rinsed them in one side of the double sink, washed them in the other and left them in the rack to dry. Very well organized. He and Joel usually only washed dishes when they ran out of clean ones.

When they were finished there, everyone went through to the living room. Gary sat on the couch and the two girls sat on either side of him.

“You live here, Cherie. Where does Grace live??”

She was too shy to answer him, so Cherie did. “Grace is here for a sleep-over. She lives in town. She’s Dylan James’ sister. Do you know Dylan?”

“Yeah, I know Dylan. He’s a nice guy.”

Grace blushed. “Dylan is nice. He doesn’t play the piano, he’s just got a guitar and it’s fucking awful.”

“Umm, okay,” Gary grinned and looked away before he laughed in her face. Mr. McLaughlin looked at him and rolled his eyes.

“I’m having a beer. Would you like one, Gary? Lachlan won’t, he only drinks water these days.”

“Well . . I,” Gary looked at Lachlan who grinned and nodded.

“Have a beer if you want one. It doesn’t bother me and Dad doesn’t offer it to many people.”

“In that case, thanks, I’d love a beer. Just one though.”

“One is all you’re getting. I still owe you for the wood and, besides, it might loosen you up a bit so you’ll play for us.”

“I’ll play something; I’ll try to. I freeze-up when I get embarrassed, I’m not used to an audience, but I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Gary. I’m sure it will be lovely,” the younger Mrs. McLaughlin said. “Would it help if everyone went back and sat in the kitchen?”

“No, it’s okay, thanks. Stay where you are, I’ve got to get used to it.”

Gary looked at Lachlan who grinned and gave him a ‘thumbs-up’. Lachlan lit the gas fire while the others all had a beer, except the girls of course, they had a coke – which would probably keep them awake all night.

Gary finished his beer. He had a ‘stubby’ – a half-size bottle, 2 medium glasses. He got up and went over to the piano.

Lachlan stood and announced, “Ladies and Gentleman, presenting the greatest pianist ever to play in South Bay.”

“Shut up, Lachie.” Gary sat down. “Has anyone got any requests?”

“I have,” said the old lady. “There’s a tune my grandmother used to love. It’s really old, but it’s a beautiful song. It might be a bit complex for just one instrument, but do you know ‘Whispering Hope’? It’s an old gospel song in 3 part harmony.”

“Yeah, I know Whispering Hope,” Gary grinned.

“Oh, good! I’ve got a copy of the music in the cabinet, I think.”

“No need. I don’t need the music, I know it well. Whispering Hope was Mrs. Nagurski’s favourite, she made all of her students learn it.”

He played half a dozen notes, and then stopped and looked around. “Sorry. We’ll try it again.”

He sat looking at the keys and nodding rapidly, obviously playing the tune in his head. He stopped, held his hands over the keys and flexed his fingers, and then started to play. The tune started quiet and simple and became more and more complex as it built to a climax, and then faded out again.

The final note ‘plinked’. Gary’s hands dropped to his legs and he sat still and quiet with his head bowed. There wasn’t a sound in the room. Absolute silence. The old lady got up and rushed out of the door.

Gary looked around at all of the eyes fixed on him. “Umm, sorry,” he mumbled. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Wrong?” said the younger Mrs. McLaughlin. “You did nothing wrong, Gary. I think everyone here is just – well, gobsmacked actually. I would never have believed that any one person could fill a room with music like that. It was beautiful, simply beautiful. Thank you. Thank you so much!”

Mr. McLaughlin said, “Gary, you were born too late. Today’s music is all guitars and electronic noises. A hundred years ago, you would’ve been a super-star. You’re a real artist, but, well, can you play us something else – something more modern and simple. A pop song perhaps?”

“Oh, yeah!” Cherie said. “Do you know Lady Gaga’s Poker Face? It’s our favourite!’

“Well, I think so.”

He turned back to the keyboard and started picking out the tune, but was interrupted before he started playing. The older Mrs. McLaughlin came back, grabbed his head and kissed him.

“Thank you, Gary. That was so beautiful, you made me cry. I wish that my grandmother could’ve heard you, she’d cry too. I want you to have this.”

She put a folded, yellowed, piece of material on the keyboard in front of him. He unfolded and opened it. It was a very old and faded sampler with all the words of Whispering Hope picked out in multi-coloured cottons.

“Well, I – thanks, but?” He looked up, a question in his eyes.

“When my grandmother was a girl, she had rheumatic fever and was bed-ridden for months. While she was there, she embroidered that. It used to be framed and under glass and it hung in our old family home for many years.

Now, I think it has a new home. I want you to have it, Gary.”

“Me? Oh no. I can’t accept this. It’s an heirloom and it belongs in your family.”

“It’s not worth anything much. It’s been sitting in my glory-box for years now, along with all of my other old junk. When I die, it will all probably go to the rubbish-dump.

You’ve made an old woman very happy, Gary and I really want you to take it. Do what you like with it. Keep it, find it another home, throw it away, whatever you decide.”

“Well.” He looked around the room, looked at Cherie, and then nodded. “Okay, I will. Thank you, Mrs. McLaughlin. This is very special and I think I know exactly what I’m going to do with it.”

“Good Boy. Whatever you decide, it’s up to you.”

“All right.” He refolded the sampler and put it up on top of the piano. “Now, we were going to try this.”

He started playing again. This time the tune was fast and bright and it flowed effortlessly. The young girls, who knew it well, were singing all of the words. No-one else knew them. He finished and switched straight into Ob La Di, which the adults all knew and which could’ve been written for the piano.

He played bits of a few other tunes, and then stopped suddenly. He sat looking at the keyboard, a big grin on his face. He looked around the room.

“That was fun!” he said. “Even if no-one else enjoyed it, I did.”

“Don’t be dumb, Gary,” Lachlan replied. “We didn’t like that, we loved it, really loved it. Right, Gran?”

“Gary, Gary, Gary,” the old lady said. “Don’t be modest, Boy, and don’t be shy. You are good – very, very good. You have a wonderful talent and thank you.”

Lachlan’s mum said, “They told us, Gary, that you were something special. I thought, ‘Whatever. It’s just a piano.’ I was wrong, you’re bloody amazing. I never knew that a piano could sound so good.”

“Criminal,” Mr. McLaughlin said. “That’s the only word for it. It’s criminal to sit on a talent like that and not use it. You’ve never played in public?”

“No, never,” Gary blushed.

“Well, you should. You really should. Olive Braidwood would love to get her hands on you.”

“Olive Braidwood?”

“Yes!” the grandmother enthused. “Mrs. Braidwood at the library. She’s the driving force behind the Kaimoana Operatic Society. Apparently, Dr. Stevens has written a musical comedy about the ‘True Story of Kaimoana.’ They’re looking for talent and recruiting people to put the show on in the Community Centre. She’d be rapt to get you on board.”

“Well . . I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Oh, yes you could!” Lachlan agreed with the others. “Seriously, you so have to do this. You’ve been looking for something to fill up your days, this could be just what you need. It’d be so good for you and good for the Operatic Society and for the town too. Please, Gary, you have to do it!”

“Well, I don’t know,” Gary wavered.

“Well I do! Gary, please? For me, for yourself and for the town.”

“Umm, okay. Yes. I’ll try it, for you.”

“Brilliant! Thanks. I’ll come too, they’re still looking for people to make-up the numbers.”

“You’ll come too? That’d be good. What do you play, Lachie?”

“Absolutely nothing. Well, I play the guitar, badly, but I can sing.”

“You sing? I didn’t know that.”

“You don’t know everything about me, My Friend. Yes, I can sing. I’m nothing great, not like you, but I can sing good enough for the chorus. I used to be in the Society, years ago, when I was a kid. We did Robin Hood, Men in Tights, I was one of them. I was far too young for the role but I had fun.”

“Sweetie,” his grandmother smiled. “You were adorable! It would be so good if you got involved again. Please say that you’ll do it, Gary, for Lachlan.”

“Yeah. I’ve already said that I will, if they want me.”

“Oh, they’ll want you, there’s no doubt about that.” Lachlan’s mother left the room.

Kaimoana Tales, Lachlan & Gary, 60

There was nothing wrong with the tuning. The piano sounded fine. So, he hoped he could remember how to do this. He started picking-out a tune, Be Back Soon from Oliver. Yes, he remembered how to do it.

The tune flowed and he lost himself in the music. He’d so missed playing; this was great! One tune morphed into another as the memories ran and he was away in a world of his own, living the music.

Finally, he stopped for a break and sat quietly with his head bowed, just enjoying the moment. He definitely was going to get a piano, when he had somewhere to keep it. When they got a house, a piano would be the first thing they’d put in it.

A movement in the kitchen doorway caught his eye. He looked around and Lachlan’s grandmother and the 3 young girls were standing there staring at him. Lachlan was near the other door off the hallway, also staring.

“My God, Boy!” The old lady came into the room. “That was beautiful. I never knew that old thing could sound like that. It never has before. Gary, that was magic!”

“The touch of a master’s hand,” Lachlan grinned. “Amazing, Gary, simply incredible. You can follow a tune all right! Gran’s right, that was magic.”

“Well . .umm . .yeah.” Gary blushed and stammered. “Sorry, Mrs. McLaughlin. I should’ve asked you first if it was all right. Lachlan said I could try the piano.”

“Gary, you don’t need to ask, you play it anytime you like. It was a real privilege to listen to, and thank you.”

“Ohmigosh! That was like – great, like real music.” One of the girls enthused.

“It was real music,” Lachlan said. “Really real. You’re a master, Gary. Play us something else, please?”

“Well, I – yeah, okay, I’ll try. I’m not used to an audience.”

Gary sat down again. “I’ve only ever played for my teacher, no-one else was interested.”

“They don’t know what they were missing.” Mrs. McLaughlin sat on the couch. “Your teacher must’ve known his stuff. Who taught you to play?”

“It was a lady, Ms. Nagurski. She was a crabby old thing and a retired teacher, but she loved music.”

“She must’ve loved you then. Please play some more, Gary.”

He played for a while. The music was fine when it flowed, but he was having trouble and he kept stopping and starting again. He was acutely aware of all the eyes focused on him. He tried to forget about them, but couldn’t and his face was bright red. He tried bits of half a dozen tunes, then he stopped, closed the lid over the keys and swiveled around to face Mrs. McLaughlin.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do it. I’m just not used to being watched.”

“It’s okay, Lad. Just relax. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about you know, you’re a very fine musician. I’ve never heard better and that’s the truth.”

Lachlan said, “Gran’s right. Your music sounds great, your teacher taught you well. There must’ve been a time when you couldn’t play anything, now you can. Maybe the next step is to learn to play for an audience so people can enjoy what you do. Seriously, anyone who hears you is going to love what they hear.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. They will. Have you ever heard yourself play?”

“Well, yeah. I hear the piano, but I’m concentrating on what I’m doing.”

“We should record you so you can sit back and listen and hear it like anyone else does.”

“Yeah? Might be worth a try.”

“Sure it would. Practice makes perfect. You’ve just got to practice playing for people.”

“But I can’t!”

“Yes you can. When I decided to start exercising, I started by walking in to school. I thought it was going to kill me, but I kept at it and now I can run all the way.”

“Very true, Lachlan. He’s right, Gary. You already play just fine, now you got to learn to play for others. A performer performs, that’s what it’s all about.

But, tiny steps for tiny feet. The girls and I will clear off and leave you with just Lachlan. You don’t have to worry if he’ll like what he hears, if it was rubbish he’d still like it because it’s you playing. But, it’s not rubbish, it’s really, really fine music when it’s flowing.

Come on, Girls – back to the kitchen.”

“Aww, Gran! Couldn’t we stay?”

“No, you couldn’t, not yet. Besides, you’ve got cookies in the oven, they might burn.”

“Oh, damm! The baking!” The girls left in a hurry and Mrs. McLaughlin went with them.

“That’s better,” Lachlan grinned. “I’ll put a tape on, and then you can play for just you and me.”

“Umm, no,” Gary replied. “Do put a tape on, but then can you go away and not listen to me?”

“Not listen? But I want to! Don’t you care what I think?”

“Yes, I do. I care too much. Playing for a whole room full of strangers would be easier than playing for just you.”

“But why?”

“I wouldn’t care that much about what anyone else thought, but one frown from you would destroy me completely.”

“Oh? But I wouldn’t frown at you.”

“I couldn’t take the risk.”

I see, I think. Look, stay there a minute, Gary. Don’t move. I want you to hear something.”

Lachlan sat at the computer on the other side of the room and logged on.

“It’ll take a minute. Just wait, this is very important. Aargh! Takes ages when you’re waiting!”

They both sat and waited impatiently.

“The girls have got so much junk on this thing. I’m sure it’s slowing everything down. Time it was cleaned-out again. Ah, here we are – at last. And, into Youtube we go.”

He opened the site and did a quick search by artist and title.

“Yes! This is it, Gary. It’s really old, so don’t be put off by the pictures. This was the Beatles’ second no.1 hit, ‘Do You Want to Know a Secret?’ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8Vx6E26lFM Listen to it, don’t worry about the music, listen to the words.” He stood up and stepped away from the screen.

Gary sat and listened to the song. He couldn’t see the screen from away across the room. He had tears in his eyes anyway. The song finished and he got up and stood in front of Lachlan.

“Is that for real?”

“Yeah, very real. Seriously, Gary, I’m in love with you. So you see, it really wouldn’t matter if your playing was crap. I’d still love it because it was you playing. But, it wouldn’t be crap, it’d be brilliant because it was you playing and you are brilliant. Seriously, I . . “

Gary put 2 fingers on Lachlan’s lips. “Lachie, shut up.”

“Shut up?”

“Yeah. While you’re talking, I can’t do this.”

He kissed him.

They broke apart and Gary smiled. “If I could sing, I’d sing the same song to you.”

“”You mean?”

“I mean I’ve got the same secret. I love you, Lachlan. I really do.”

“I guess we can’t be mates then.”

“Yeah we can. Why not?”

“Because we’ll be lovers. I love you, Gary. I’ve known that for ages. When you were admiring the cowboys, I felt like killing somebody.”

“No need for that. If you want me, I’m yours.”

“Oh, I do! No more secrets then.”

“No more secrets.” He kissed him.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk over to the beach.”

“A walk? But aren’t you going to play some more?”

“Maybe later, but first I want to tell you all of my secrets. It’s time that you heard my story. We can’t do that here; anyone could walk in at any time. Let’s go to the beach.”

They walked out through the kitchen. Mrs. McLaughlin watched them go, but she said nothing. Across the road, they walked down on to the pebbly beach and sat, out of sight of the row of houses behind them.

They sat looking out over the calm Pacific Ocean and Gary started telling his story. He told him of his early, fumbling, experiments with neighbourhood boys, his short-lived and very intense holiday affair with his cousin, Joel, and the disastrous aftermath.

Lachlan nodded knowingly as Gary spoke of his loneliness after he went home after the holiday and his search for someone to love him. He was wide-eyed as he told him about the abuse by the 3 older boys, he spared no details at all.

He cried when he heard of the way they’d humiliated him with the videos and the rejection by his family. He wanted to cheer Ron’s rescue of Gary and his giving him a new start, and cry again because he lost his old mate.

Gary finished by speaking of his aimless drifting around the country, his impulsive arrival here, in Kaimoana and his finding of Joel.

“So, that’s it. That’s who I am and where I come from. Now you know, do you still want to know me?”

“Oh, Gary! Of course I do. I want to know you. I’m really sorry now for all the cracks about your not having a job. You could do anything you want, and you deserve it – all good things.

My life has been so bland and boring. The only exciting thing that’s ever happened was the day you walked into it. I so want to be your special friend, I love you.”

“My very special friend! Thanks, Lachie. I love you, a lot.”

They sat looking into each other’s teary eyes and they smiled. Gary decided that that was enough talking and he felt that he’d come home at last. He kissed him.

They sat side-by-side on the beach, heads together and arms around each other. They were in plain sight of anyone who came across the road and neither of them cared. Nothing and nobody else mattered; they had each other, they were together and life was good.

The spell was broken when Lachlan’s sister came over and yelled at them.

“Lachlan! Lachlan, you have to come home right now. Gran’s putting dinner on the table and you have to come and get it. She said that there’s some for Gary if he wants it.”

“Okay, Cherie, thanks. Tell Gran we’re coming. You’re invited for dinner, Gary. Do you want to come and eat with us?”

“I’d love to, thanks. Joel’s going to Virgil’s, so I was going to eat alone again.”

“Well now you don’t have to. Come on.”

Kaimoana Tales, Lachlan & Gary, 59

Gary lay on his bed in the caravan watching TV. It was something to do, but it was boring. He was bored. Lachlan was right, he was wasting his life. What was Lachlan doing?

No, he was being weird. What about Peter de Groot’s cute cousins? They definitely didn’t look boring. It was a shame that he didn’t know Peter well enough to just drop in on him, then he’d get to meet the new boys. Could he do that anyway? No, he’d just look stupid.

What to do? It was too early to eat and Joel was eating at Virgil’s tonight. Joel was great and Virgil was all right. No, he was better than all right, he was great too. They were good friends, but they were so into each other, he always felt he was on the outside. He’d met a few people, but those two were the best friends he’d made. Them and Lachlan.

Shame that he was being weird, he did like Lachlan really. Actually, he liked him a lot – when he wasn’t being weird.

Dammit! Life was out there, somewhere. Nothing was going to happen while he was lying around watching dumb afternoon TV programmes. He put his sneakers back on and went out for a walk.

He went out of the caravan and out of the yard, to the road. Joel’s Uncle Doug was working on an engine outside the big front-door.

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at Gary. Gary smiled and nodded and went the other way. Doug was always friendly enough, but there was something creepy about him. He always felt that he was undressing him with his eyes. Creepy.

Back along the road, he passed in front of Lachlan’s house. Lachlan was there, down the end of the driveway, splitting wood. The kid was always exercising in one way or another. Should he go in and talk to him?

He stopped walking and watched him. Lachlan hadn’t seen him there, he thought. He was standing side-on to him and focused on chopping the wood.

There was an old saying about how firewood warms you twice, once when you cut it and once when you burn it. Looked like that was working. Lachlan had slipped his shirt off and was wearing nothing but his ugly, baggy, low-slung jeans. His top-half was not ugly though, he was looking good. He had a good tan and the sweat he’d worked up was making him glow in the sunshine.

All the hard work he’d been doing was paying off, the kid was developing a damm fine body. If he saw him in the street and he didn’t know him, he’d have a second look. The boy and his bod were eye-candy. He looked good.

More that that, even if he was a dog, which he was not, he’d still want to know him. Lachlan was a good guy.

It was a shame that their relationship had developed the way it did. Maybe it was time that they had another look? Could they start again? Sure they could, if the kid stopped being weird.

He walked in off the street. Lachlan stopped and watched him coming.

“Hey, Lachlan.”

“What do you want? I’m busy here.”

“I can see that. You’re doing good.”

“Someone’s got to do it.”

“I guess. It’s doing you good too.”

“There must be a catch. What do you mean by that?”

“No catch. I mean it. You’re getting a good work-out and it’s doing you good. You’re looking good.”

“Really? I thought I was a Fat Boy.”

“Maybe you were once, but you’re not now.”

“Yeah?” Lachlan looked at him suspiciously. “C’mon, Gary, drop the other shoe. You’ve thought of some new way to insult me, haven’t you?”

“No I haven’t. I’ve been thinking, Lachlan.”

“Gee, wow.”

“No, don’t. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“You don’t want to do what anymore?”

“Talk shit all the time. Lachlan, can we stop the insults and just be mates?”

“There’s got to be a catch somewhere. No more Fat Boy jokes?”

“No, none. I’m sick of that. It’s not funny and it’s not real anyway. I like you, Lachie. You’re the best friend I’ve got around here, around anywhere really. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Umm. Are you for real?”

“For sure.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll give it a go if you will. You’re not a bad guy really. So, what about the cute cowboys? Met any of them yet?”

“No, I haven’t. They don’t seem to be getting involved with anyone.”

“I noticed that. They’re sticking close together and walking around, posing.”

“They are. Maybe they’re just a pack of posers. They do look good, but that doesn’t mean they’re worth knowing – not like you.”

“Here we go. Are you saying that I’m nothing to look at?”

“No, I’m not. I’m saying that you’re someone worth knowing. Anyway, you do look good and getting better all the time. You’ve come a long way in the time I’ve known you and good on you for working at it. But what you look like doesn’t matter so much, you’re gorgeous on the inside anyway.”

“Umm, well – wow! Thanks, I think. You really are Gary Stafford, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. Who else would I be?”

Lachlan grinned. “I thought maybe you had a nice twin brother.”

“Shut up. There’s only one of me.”

“There certainly is! You’re okay, Gary.”

“Yeah? So are you, very okay. Can I give you a hand here?”

“What? Are you offering to do some actual work?”

“Don’t, Lachlan. Yes, I am offering, I’d like to help you.”

“Okay, sorry. Yeah, you could help. If you’ll get the wheelbarrow from the garden shed, you could start taking the blocks to the woodshed and stacking them in there. Thanks.”

“Thank you. It’ll be good to do something.”

They worked together until the job was done. Lachlan finished splitting the wood and took over the wheelbarrow, dumping the blocks in the shed for Gary to stack them away neatly. Finished, they stood back and admired what they’d done.

“Thanks, Gary. I thought it was going to take a couple of days.”

“Yeah, we make a good team.”

“We do. Come inside and have a drink while I have a shower.”

“If you shower every time you get a sweat up, you must get a lot of showers.”

“I guess I do really. Come on.”

They went into the kitchen and got a couple of cold drinks – two large cokes – diet coke, of course. They took them into the living-room because Lachlan’s sister and a couple of her friends were busy baking cookies and they filled the room up.

“Hey. You’ve got a piano!”

“Yeah, it’s Gran’s. No-one plays it, it just sits there, taking up space and gathering dust. Do you play piano?”

“Yeah, well, I used to. I had lessons for years and my mother had one. I haven’t played since I left home, it’s about the only thing I miss about the place.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start. I’ve got a guitar, an acoustic one, but I’m not very good at that either. Guess I’m just not musical. Are you any good?”

“I don’t know if I’m good, but I can follow a tune and I enjoy playing, I used to.”

“And you miss it? Why did you leave home anyway? You’re young to be living on your own.”

“I’m not that young. I’m 16.”

“That much? I’m still 15. That’s still young to be on your own. Why did you leave?”

“It’s a long story. The short version is that they kicked me out because I’m gay.”

“That’s rough. Mind you, I wouldn’t be surprised if my family did the same thing.”

“They don’t know about you?”

“Not likely! And I’m not telling them either. I suppose I’ll have to, one day, but not until I’m good and ready.”

“Might be wise. Anyway, if they do throw you out, you could come and live with me. I wouldn’t kick you out.”

“Yeah? Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to live in that old caravan with you and Joel. There’s not enough room in there for you two without me as well.”

“Yeah, it’s cramped, but you wouldn’t have to live in the caravan. I’d buy us a house.”

“How are you going to buy a house? You haven’t even got a job. What are you living on anyway? Are you getting a benefit?”

“No, I don’t need one. I’ve got some money.”

“Yeah? Must be a lot if you can buy a house.”

“It’s a lot. I could afford it.”

“Where did you get money? Did you rob a bank or something?”

“Nothing like that. I told you, it’s a long story. I’ll have to share it with you sometime.”

“Sometime, but not now. I’m going to have that shower; I’ll just be a few minutes. Have a play on the piano if you like. Just move all the junk on it onto the coffee table.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t know if it’s in tune; no-one’s touched it in ages. Try it anyway; I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it? No cracks about smelly fat boys?”

“Definitely not. Go away, Lachie.”

Lachlan went to the bathroom. Gary cleared the family photos off the piano.

‘Man, Lachlan was a nice-looking kid. Great smile.’

He adjusted the seat, opened the lid, sat down and spread and flexed his fingers He ran his fingers up and down the keys.

Kaimoana Tales, Lachlan & Gary 58

“Look at what, Gary?”

“Over there – the eye-candy. Nice!”

Coming down into the street from the Esplanade were 3 blond teenage boys. They were dressed identically in boots, tight blue jeans, plaid shirts and cowboy hats. They all looked very similar and were stunningly good-looking, but they were 3 different sizes – large, medium and small. Heads were turning as they passed.

“Vey nice,” Gary sighed. “Those guys would give William Scott a run for his money. He’s got competition if they’re staying around here.”

“They’re staying,” Jacob said. “They’re going to be living here now.”

“They are? Really? Cool! How do you know that?”

“We met them last night.”

“You did? Lucky Sods! How did you meet them? Where did they come from, and why are they living here? Also, how do we meet them?”

“They’re Peter’s cousins, the de Groot brothers. They’re from Canada and they’re going to be living with Peter.”

“Whoah! Lucky Peter. Where’re you going, Lachie?”

“I’m going home. See you later, Riley, Jacob.”

“What’s the big hurry?” Gary asked. “Wet your knickers or something?”

“No, but I think you might. I’m not sitting here watching you drool over the eye-candy.” Lachlan picked up his bag and walked away. Gary sat and watched him.

“What the hell’s got into him?” he shrugged.

Jacob and Riley looked at each other. Jacob grinned and winked. Riley nodded.

“Gary, do you like Lachlan?”

“Yeah, he’s okay. He’s a mate.”

“A mate. I think maybe you’d better buy 2 bunches of flowers – one for Dianne and one for Lachlan.”

“What would I want to buy flowers for him for?”

Jacob said, “You don’t see it, do you? You just hurt the kid’s feelings.”

“Lachlan’s feelings? He hasn’t got any feelings; he’s got a hide as thick as a pig-skin. We’re mates but we trade insults all the time, that’s what we do. I don’t see what I said anyway.”

“Please yourself, Gary, but if you want to keep your friend, you’d better do something.”

“Whatever,” Gary shrugged. “How do I meet the new boys?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Riley got up. “We’re not getting involved. We’ve got work to do, c’mon, Jake.”

“Okay, Slavedriver. Gary, forget about the new boys; go fix things with your mate.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“Whatever. Laters, Gary.” They went into the café.

“Whatever yourself.” Gary finished his drink and started walking. What was going on with Lachlan? He didn’t have a clue.

‘Must be his time of the month or something.’

He crossed the street and started walking along to where the cowboys had gone. However, they’d reached the end of the short street, turned around and were walking back towards him.

They really were nice to look at. He smiled as they approached, but got no response at all. They didn’t even look at him and just kept going.

‘Stuck up Pricks!’

He went around the corner and up to Virgil’s house. Maybe Lachlan had called in there. He hadn’t, so Gary walked on home to South Bay.

He was getting tired of living in a poky old caravan. It was fun for a while, but there was no room to move. It was about time he bought a house or something. He didn’t see why Joel was so against the idea, he could afford it.

It was all right for Joel living way out of town, he had a car, Gary didn’t. It was about time he did. He’d have to learn to drive first though.

There was no sign of Lachlan anywhere. He passed his house in South Bay, but didn’t stop. To hell with him. If he was going to be weird, he could do it on his own. He went home.

Next day, after school, Gary was waiting in the street outside, as usual. Peter de Groot was there as well. Gary didn’t know him well, but he knew who he was, it was a small town and Peter was a friend of Joel’s.

“Hey, Peter. How’re you doing? Waiting for Ashton?”

“No, I’m waiting for my cousins. It’s their first day here and Mother insisted that I came here to make sure that they get home safely.”

“They’re hardly going to get lost are they?”

“Of course not, but Mother worries, it’s what she does best. Who are you waiting for?”

“Oh, nobody, just my mate.”

“You shouldn’t say that. Having a friend is special, there’s nothing ‘just’ about it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Here they come.”

The kids came pouring out of the school like leaving there was the high-point of their day. A few of them greeted Gary in passing and a couple said, “Hey” to Peter, but no-one stopped.

Peter’s cousins came out together and walked away with Peter. Gary was disappointed that he didn’t get an intro, but they were in a hurry and didn’t stop. He stayed where he was, he was waiting.

In a surprisingly short time, the rush was over and everyone had gone. There was no sign of Lachlan. Oh well, he shrugged and wandered away down-town to see if anything was happening.

There was nothing much, but there was a furniture truck outside Mrs. Woods’ shop. A couple of guys and a big butch girl were loading it with the stock from the shop. So, it really was all over for that business then. Would anyone miss it? He’d been in there, for a look, but there was nothing there that interested him.

There was an empty shop in the street then. It probably wouldn’t be empty for long, it was quite a big building and was a prime-site, right in the heart of the main street.

Gary thought that, maybe, he should buy it and open a shop of his own. It’d be something to do. Selling what? What would appeal to locals and, more importantly, to tourists? Sex toys, party drugs and filthy movies? No, not in this town.

He wandered on up the Esplanade, and then went for a walk to the lookout on the top of the hill. He seriously had to find something productive to do with his days. He needed a job or something. Anything would be better than nothing.

Okay, driving lessons would be a good place to start. If he had a car, he could run Lachlan to and from school, and they could go away for trips together too. That’d be great.

Where was the Fat Boy anyway? He went to Virgil’s place to see if he was there. He wasn’t, Virgil didn’t know where he was.

And where was Lachlan? Still at school actually. He knew that Gary would probably be waiting outside for him, he usually was. Then again, he might not be. Peter’s American cousins had arrived and started at the school, one of them was in his class.

Maybe Gary had got lucky and got to meet one of them. Whatever, he didn’t care. He knew that he couldn’t compete with the good-looking new kids in town. Everyone seemed to want to know them, but not Lachlan. Fuck ‘em, anyway.

He finished his assignment of homework reading and looked out of the front windows. There was no-one there. Good. He zipped-up his book-bag, swung it onto his back and put his arms through the straps.

He went outside, walked out of the school and started the long, hard, run home. It was hard going up the hill, but at least the worst part came first, once he got over the top it was easy, down the hill and around into South Bay. He didn’t stop running until he got to the door at the back of his house.

He stood, bent forward with his hands on his thighs, recovering as his breathing slowed and feeling damm proud of himself. His gran came out of the door with a washing-basket under her arm.

“Hello, Sweetheart. Did you run all the way home?”

“Yeah, I did,” he grinned. “And I didn’t stop once. First time I’ve done that. There was a time, just a few weeks ago, when I didn’t think I could do it. Walking was hard enough, but I did it!”

“Good for you, Boy. I’m proud of you. Do you want something special for dinner to celebrate?”

“Gran! You know that I don’t.”

“Well you should. It wouldn’t hurt to break-out once in a while. I must say though, you’re looking good, really good. All your hard work is paying off. Well done, Lachlan.”

“Thanks, Gran. We’re not there yet, but we’re on the way.”

“You are! Well on the way. All the girls will be chasing you soon.”

“I’d better keep up the running then.”

“Don’t run too fast, Sweetheart. It might be fun to get caught.”

“Yeah, rite! I’ll get changed, and then I’ll chop some of that wood up.”

“There’s no hurry for that. Your dad’s left it out of the way, for once, and there’s plenty of firewood in the shed. It’s a nice day, why don’t you go and see your friends? Gary walked past here before, so he’s at home.”

“Gran, I don’t care what Gary is doing. I’ll chop some wood, it’ll be good exercise.”

“Please yourself, you usually do, but don’t neglect your friends. They are important and I like Gary, he’s a nice kid.”

“You go and see him then, I’m not.”

“Oh? Have you two fallen out?”

“No, I just can’t be bothered with him. I’d rather chop wood. Laters, Gran.”

He went inside and his grandmother went out to the clothesline, shaking her head. Lachlan had come such a long way in the last couple of months, she’d hate to see him slip back to the lonely boy he was. Diet and exercise was all very well, but there was more to life than that.

Lachlan changed out of his school-clothes and went out to start on the wood. Someone had to do it. The big ‘rounds’ of sliced-up logs had to be broken-down and stacked in the wood-shed. It was fun to do, except when the axe bounced off the knotty bits. It was good exercise and it was doing something productive.

He was tired of trading insults with Gary all the time, it was all they ever did. Then some good-looking kids walked past and Gary got all excited. To hell with him anyway! Why didn’t he look at Lachlan like that? He never had and he never would. Did he want him to?

No! To hell with him. Gary was just a waster, a total waste of time and they were going nowhere. He needed to find somebody, but it wasn’t going to happen while Gary was in the way. So, who would he like to get to know? Bloody no-one, that’s who. To hell with Gary.

The axe sliced satisfyingly into the wood.

Kaimoana Tales, Ashton 56

(Hey Guys, Here's the missing chapter. I skipped over it because i was teasing - you lot all saw through what we were doing with Ashton & Peter :(

You know me too well :) )

The BMW pulled up in the street outside and Ashton got out of it. He climbed over the gate and started up the path to the house. Mrs. de Groot stood and barred the way, glaring at him.

“Hey, Mrs. de Groot. Is Peter here?”

“Whether he is or not is no concern of yours. You are no longer welcome in our house. Go away and don’t come back here again.”

“Whoah! I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Get your sorry butt off our property. Go back to your laughing friends.”

“They’re not laughing now and they’re not my friends.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean they probably hate me now and I don’t care. I took them all out to a back-road behind Hapuku, told them all exactly what I thought of them and I left them there. There’s no cell-phone coverage out there, so they’ve got a long, long, walk home.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because of the way they were treating Peter. They all think they’re so cool and they’re not. The whole lot of them together is not worth 1/10th of what Peter is. He’s a very special boy and I love him. I’m sorry, but I do.”

The fierce old lady stood, still barring the way, arms folded and studying the anxious boy.

“You love him?” She demanded.

Ashton blushed. “I do love Peter. I probably shouldn’t say that to you, his mother, but it’s the truth, I love him.”

“Yes, you should say that. There is nothing else you could say that would get you into this house. Peter is in there and he has been crying because he thought you were laughing at him.”

“I wasn’t. I’d never laugh at Peter. I was angry – bloody angry, at all those other idiots, but never at Peter. He’s the only decent friend I’ve ever had. I love him.”

She stood there looking at him, and then she nodded and she smiled, at last. “Yes,” she said. “Peter chose well. He loves you, you know. Go inside and talk to him.” She stepped aside.

“I can? Oh, thank you, Mrs. de Groot! Peter’s right, he’s got the greatest mother.”

“Go and make my sad boy happy,” she smiled.

“I will. I hope. I’ll try.” Ashton hurried inside.

“Yes, you are a good boy.” Mrs. de Groot carried on working in her garden.

Ashton rushed into the house. Peter looked around, and then turned back to his book. Ashton stood looking at his back and suddenly all he felt was dread.

“Peter?” he ventured quietly.

He stood waiting. There was no reply for a long time, and then Peter sighed. “I’m sorry, Ashton. I can’t do this anymore. Go back to your world and leave me with mine.”

“Peter, no! Please. Don’t shut me out.”

“Please go. I’m simply not good enough.”

“What do you mean? You’re plenty good enough for anyone.”

“You were there, with all of your cool friends, laughing at me.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you.”

“You weren’t? It doesn’t matter anyway. Everyone else was. You are the coolest kid in town, I’m just a dork and a laughing stock. You need a friend but you can do so much better than me.”

“No way! There is no-one better than you. I love you, Peter.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Peter stood up and looked bewildered. “You don’t. You can’t!”

“I do.” Ashton closed in on him and put his hands on his shoulders. “I can.” He kissed him on the lips.

Peter was dumbfounded! “But . . but . . you, I. You’re not gay!”

“Want a bet?” Ashton smiled and he kissed him again. “Peter Perfect, I love you. I don’t know if I’m gay or not, I never thought that I was, but then, I’ve never loved anyone – not like I love you.

If you tell me to leave, I’ll go, but I really hope that you don’t.”

“Oh, Ashton! Please don’t go.” Peter kissed him.

He kissed him back, and on, and on. They broke apart and stood clinging together and both thinking the exact same thing – their lives had just got a whole lot better.

Peter sighed, “I’ve dreamed about this, but I never thought that it would happen. Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know where we’ll go, but wherever it is, we’ll go together.”

“Together. Oh, yes! Thank you, Ashton. It’s going to cost you, you know. Your friends won’t want you being around me.”

“It won’t cost me anything and they’re not my friends. I dumped them.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I drove them out to the back of Hapuku, told them that they’re a pack of stuck-up wankers and I left them there. They’ve got a long walk home. There’s no cell-phone coverage out there.”

“Oh, you’re mean.”

“They bloody asked for it. When Deidre leaned across and sounded the horn at you, I was so wild I felt like punching her.”

“I guess that they’re not your friends now.”

“They never were. You are the only friend I’ve got and the only one I want.”

“Oh, Ashton. Never in my wildest dreams . . .” He kissed him.

They broke apart when there was a cough behind them. Mrs. de Groot was standing, smiling at them. “Is everybody happy? That is much better. I’ll make us some tea, shall I?”

“Mother, you don’t have to do that. I’ll get the tea.”

“Nonsense, Peter. Getting tea is what I do. You boys sit down and talk.”

Mrs. de Groot busied herself in the kitchen area. The boys sat together in front of the fire.

“What are your parents going to think about this?”

“They’ll blow a fuse. Know what? I don’t care what they think. They don’t care about me anyway, they never have.”

“That’s sad.”

“Yeah, I suppose. That’s just the way it is. Stuff ‘em anyway.”

“I would hate to lose my parents.”

“I doubt if you ever will. Anyway, you can’t lose what you never had. You’re lucky, Peter. You’ve got a brilliant mother.”

“I have. I’m very lucky.”

“You deserve it. Is your father going to be the same?”

“Father will be fine. He’s like me, he does what he’s told around here.”

“That’s probably wise.”

“Oh, it is!”

The tea-trolley arrived.

“Eat up, Boys. The tea is almost ready. Is Ashton going to stay here tonight?”

Ashton and Peter looked at each other and smiled. “Yes, I’d really like to, if I may.”

“Of course you may – any time at all. In that case, I’ve got a job for you when we’ve finished here.”

“What is that, Mother?”

“You can make up one of the beds in the bus. Please yourselves which one. The sleeping-loft in the front has more room than the one in the back, but it gets the sun earlier and there are no drapes in there yet.”

“I, umm, I don’t need a lot of room.”

“Maybe not, but the two of you together will need some space.”

“Really? You don’t mind if we sleep together again?”

“I don’t mind. Why else why you want to stay here?”

“I could think of a hundred reasons why I’d want to. But, thanks, I’d love to be with Peter.”

“Then you shall. We don’t have to ask Peter, he would love to be with you too.”

“I would. Thank you, Mother.”

“Be happy, My Son.” She went back for the tea.

“Wow, Peter. Your mum’s amazing!”

“She is a good person,” Peter smiled, “and I am happy – very happy. Thanks, Ashton.”

“Thank you and I’m very happy too. Your coming and finding me up on the cliffs was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“We can thank Father for that.”

“Your father? Did he tell you to do that?”

“Well, kind-of. Father says that if you really want something, you should decide what you can do, and then do it.”

“Like he is doing?”

“Apparently, yes.”

Later, they were out in the house-bus. Peter was getting the fire ready for lighting and Ashton was getting the bed set-up in the sleeping-loft. They’d decided on the loft at the back because it was going to be Peter’s full-time bed after his cousins arrived. The boys were all going to be sleeping in the bus.

There was a knock on the door and Riley and Jacob came in.

“Hey, Peter. Your mum said that you were out here.”

“Riley! Jacob! Come in, my friends.”

“We already did. What is Ashton Woods’ Beamer doing in the street out there?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Is he here?”

“Look up, Riley,” Peter beamed.

They all looked up at Ashton grinning down at them from the loft.

“Wow. Ashton, what are you doing in Peter’s bus?”

“Getting the bed ready.” Ashton swung down and stood next to Peter.

“Your bed? Are you sleeping here, Ashton?”

“No.” He put an arm around Peter. “We are sleeping here.”

“Together? Really? Peter, what happened?”

“My dreams came true, Riley,” Peter beamed and Ashton kissed him.

“Our dreams came true.”

Riley stood with his mouth hanging open, Jacob nudged him. “Shut your mouth, Rye. You’ll catch a fly. Congrats, Guys. We’re really pleased for you.”

“Thanks, Jacob. We’re really pleased too.” Peter kissed Ashton, just so they all knew what was what. (And because he wanted to.)

“Wow! Great.” Riley recovered his wits. “Sorry, Guys. I’m a bit slow sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?”

“Shut up, Jake. It is just sometimes – just the important times by the look of it. Ashton, this boy loves you. He always has and I’ve always told him that it was never going to happen.”

“Well, Riley, you were wrong and I’m glad you were. Peter and I are together now, and that’s cool. I hope that we’ll all be friends.”

“Sure we will,” Jacob said. “You be nice to Peter and we’ll be nice to you.”

“Do we get orgies?” Riley grinned.

“Eww! Shut up, Riley,” came from all directions.

“Sheesh, Spoilsports! Seriously though, that’s great Peter, really great. At last! We’re delighted for you and you’re a lucky guy, Ashton. This is one special boy.”

“He is,” Ashton grinned. “Peter’s very special.”

“Let’s stop embarrassing me,” Peter blushed. “Have you finished up there, Ashton? I’ll light the fire and we can sit and talk. Do you guys want tea?”

“No way!”

“Not today, thanks, Mate.”

They sat around the pot-belly stove, Peter and Ashton in chairs on either side and facing each other, Riley in a chair in front of it with Jacob sitting on him.

“You two are very comfortable together,” Ashton commented.

“Sure we are,” Riley said. “There’s no point in hiding it from you two. This is the boy I love.”

“Yeah, good for you, Riley.”

“Good for me too,” Jacob said. “How on earth did you two get together?”

They shared their story.

Riley said, “And Peter’s mum is okay with it? Good! How are your parents going to take it, Ashton?”

“They’ll freak. They will probably throw me out and I don’t care.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

Peter said, “You can come and live here with us.”

“I’d love to, Peter, but I can’t. I can’t ask your parents to support me.”

“You may not have to,” Riley said. “Come and see my mum, she’ll sort things out for you.”

“Do you think she would?”

“Sure she would,” Jacob said. “Dianne’s great. She sorted our lives out.”

“That’s what Dylan said too. I don’t know what she could do though”

“Dylan James? He’s a good guy. You might not know, but Mum will. Come and talk to her.”

“Okay, I will if I have to. Thanks.”

“Welcome. Stick with us at school too. If anyone gives you stick, Jake’ll take his leg off and whack them with it.”

“Jake will do no such thing!” Jacob frowned. “I’m not getting dirt on my new leg. You’re making huge changes in your life, Ashton, and I’m glad you dumped the beautiful people out in the wop-wops, it’ll do them good.”

“They probably don’t think so,” Ashton shrugged. “But tough. They asked for it. Any changes in my life have got to be a change for the better. I’m not falling into the trap that Damian did.”

“Damian, yeah. Poor little bugger. His mate, William, is taking it really hard.”

“William will be all right. He’s got Dylan to look after him.”

“Dylan again. Do you think that Dylan and William are a couple?”

“None of your business, Riley. But if you’ve got to know, go and ask them.”

“Fair enough. I guess that you know what the de Groots are doing with this old bus now?”

“Yeah, I do. They’re filling it up with Peter’s cousins.”

Peter said, “There’s still room for you, Ashton, as long as you sleep in my bed.”

“Well I’m not sleeping in anyone else’s!”

Mrs. de Groot came knocking at the door. Peter opened it.

“Dinner is almost ready, Son. Do Riley and Jacob want to stay and eat with us?”

“No thanks, Mrs. de Groot,” Jacob sung out. “It’s time we were getting home, Dianne is expecting us.”

“All right then, as long as you are sure. You’re always very welcome here, Boys.”

Riley stood up, tipping Jacob off. “Thanks, Mrs. de Groot, but we’ve really got to go home.”

“Yeah,” Jacob said. “Plus we’ve still got to work on Coll.”

“What do you have to work on Colin for?”

“He’s got a new girlfriend and he won’t tell us who it is.”

She smiled. “You two could do with a good dose of ‘mind your own business’.”

“It is our business! If we’re going to be uncles, then we have to know who with.”

“Give the boy a chance, Jacob,” Ashton said. “Good looking kid like him might have a hundred girls before he settles down.”

“You calling my brother a slut, Ashton Woods? (But you might be right).”

“Shut up, Jake.”

“Okay, we’re outta here. Good luck, Guys, and be nice to each other.”

“Thanks,” Ashton grinned. “And we will.”

Jacob and Riley left, Peter and Ashton went inside for their meal. They ate, and then helped clean up. Peter washed the dishes, Ashton dried, and Mrs. de Groot put them away as well as sorting the scraps for her worm farm, the compost and the chooks.

The boys showered, separately, and then dressed in pjamas and dressing gowns, (Ashton borrowed Mr. de Groot’s one). The three of them sat by the fire, listened to the radio and played cards. Ashton had never done anything like that before, and he thoroughly enjoyed the evening. Also, he’d never played cards before, but he was a fast learner.

They had a light supper – melted cheese on bread toasted on forks held over the fire, potatoes and chestnuts roasted in the embers, and steaming mugs of hot chocolate. They finished, Mrs. de Groot took the mugs away and came back with a lighted candle for the boys to take out to the bus. She turned the radio off.

“Well, Boys, time for bed. Have a good night and please be careful with the candle. Don’t burn the bus down.”

Peter stood up and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mother. We’ll be careful. Good night.”

“Good night, My Son.”

Ashton stood as well. He was really embarrassed, but he was grateful, so he forced himself, he kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, Mrs. de Groot. Thank you for everything. You’re a fantastic mother and I’ve had a very nice evening. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I hope we will again, many times. You’re a good boy, Ashton, and you’ll always be welcome here. Put the spark-guard up, Peter. Good night, Boys.”

She went to her room. Peter put the guard in front of the fire. “Ready for bed, Ashton?”

“Oh yeah, very ready. You? Let’s go then.”

They turned the lights off and went out to the bus. Peter carried the candle and shielded it from the draughts with his other hand.

“Father is going to put the power on to the bus, next time he comes home.”

“It’s not a problem. I quite like the candle. Is your father an electrician?”

“No, just a handy-man. He can turn his hand to most things and he’s good at what he does.”

“Like father, like son?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well I do. You’re great, Peter. Really great, and I love you.”

“Oh Ashton! I love you very much. Today you’ve made all of my dreams come true. Thank you.”

“Hey! Thank you.” Ashton kissed him. “And, we haven’t finished yet. This is like our honeymoon here.”

“Sounds good to me!” Peter kissed him back.

They left the dressing gowns on the bottom bunk and climbed the ladder to the loft. Peter took the candle with him and put it on a ledge up there.

“You sure that’s safe?”

“It’ll be fine. I’m not snuffing it out yet, I want to look at you. I can’t believe that you’re here with me and I’m scared if I blow the candle out, you might disappear in a puff of smoke.”

“I’m going nowhere, Silly Boy. This is where I want to be – here, with you.”

“Oh, Ashton! I love you so much!”

“I love you more than that, Peter Perfect.” They kissed and cuddled and kissed, getting hotter and hotter together.

“Want to get rid of these pjamas?”

“Oh, yes!”

They stripped rapidly, and Ashton froze. He stopped and sat looking at him, the seconds dragged on and on.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Peter, absolutely nothing. You’re so, so beautiful. I never knew that a boy could be as beautiful as you.”

“Ashton!” Peter blushed, deepest red. “I’m not beautiful. You are.”

“Wrong!” Ashton, gently, pushed him down to lie flat on his back. He sat, bent over him and running his eyes, his fingers and his lips all over the beautiful boy’s body.

“Gorgeous, gorgeous, Boy!” He stretched out on top of him and Peter wrapped his arms and legs around him, like a baby possum clinging to its mother’s belly.

“Ashton, Ashton. Please, make love to me.”

“I’m trying to, you Dork!” Ashton grinned.

“No! I mean all the way. Make love to me please”

“Oh yes!” He kissed him. “All the way and always. I love you Peter.”

“I love you. Umm, do we need protection? I don’t have any condoms or anything.”

“Condoms? I’m not going to get pregnant, are you?”

“Hardly! But you’re supposed to use them, aren’t you? I’ve never done this before.”

“Never? Cool, neither have I. Well, apart from a couple of blow-jobs with girls, so we don’t need condoms.”

“What are blow-jobs? Is that like sucking off?”

“You don’t know? You soon will. Gorgeous Boy, you’ve got a lot to learn. I’ll show you what I know and we’ll learn together.”

He kissed him. He blew the candle out.

Kaimoana Tales Lachlan & Gary, 57

“Hello, Fat Boy. Break any scales today?”

“Not yet. How’re you, you Unemployed Bum? Got a job yet?”

“Nope. Still haven’t found one that’s good enough.”

“Good enough for you? Thought of shoveling shit at the racecourse?”

“Why? Been crapping in the stables, have you?”

“No, but if you were working there, I’d shit on your shovel.”

“Eww. You’re disgusting, you know that?”

“I try. How’s it going, Gary? How’s your day been?”

“Not bad; I’ve had worse. How was your day? Learn anything in school?”

“Yeah, heaps. You should try it sometime.”

“And turn out like you? No thanks.”

“We can’t all be brilliant. They’ve got a Special Needs class, for the retards. You’d fit in well there.”

“How come you’re not in it then? Oh, I know, their seats are too small for wide loads.”

“Will you two cut it out? Honestly! You’re worse than Mac and Joyce!”

“Yes Sir, Mr. Cain, Sir!”

“Damm, Lachlan, anyone would think that you two couldn’t stand each other.”

“He loves me really,” Gary grinned. “Trouble is, I’m just not into Fat Boys.”

“Well I wouldn’t want a boyfriend who’s too lazy to get his butt out of bed in the mornings.”

“Stop it! Stop it right now!” Virgil demanded. “Lachlan is not fat. Once, maybe, but not now, and Gary doesn’t have to get a job if he doesn’t want to. If I was in his position, I wouldn’t be in any hurry either.”

“His position? His usual position is with his head up his butt.”

“As long as it’s not up yours. I could get lost in there.”

“You wish.”

“You think? Scatology is not my thing.”

“Oooo! Big words. I bet you’ve been waiting all day for a chance to use that one.”

“Not really. At least I know some words. Your biggest word is ‘wheelbarrow’, innit?”

“Wheelbarow-innit? I don’t know that one.”

“Shut up, Lachie! Do you guys want to come down-town for a drink? The Craypot is doing thickshakes now.”

Virgil shook his head. “No thanks, Gary. I’m going home. Gran’s due back today and I want to see her.”

“You want to see what she’s brought you, you mean. How about you, Lachie?”

“Yeah, okay, Gazza. I’ll come so that you don’t look like a sad git with no mates. I’m not having a fatshake though, I’ll have a coffee and thanks.”

“Yeah, okay. Wouldn’t want to see you fall off the wagon – you’d break the road!”

They parted at the corner. Gary and Lachlan went down to the main street, Virgil carried on up the hill to home.

Those two were something else. They were both gay and single, you’d think that they’d at least try to get along. But, no, they seemed to spend all their time trying to gross each other out. They did spend a lot of time together though. Gary was usually waiting outside the school everyday, and it wasn’t Virgil he was waiting for.

Also, Gary seemed to spend a lot of time in the Craypot Café. If he wanted a job, he should get one there, he must know how the place worked by now. Maybe he was into redheads? The twins, Colin and Jacob, were redheads and they lived at the Craypot – well, up the back of it.

No, he was out of luck there if he was. Colin was into the girls and Jacob only had eyes for Riley. They were a pair of lovebirds if ever he saw one.

There was another pair, walking up the hill ahead of him, Dylan James and his cousin, William. Virgil suspected that they might be a couple, but he wasn’t sure, William was only year 9 and Dylan was a senior.

They were both good-looking kids, especially William, he was stunning! But, he was only half the size of Dylan – he towered over him. They were always together when out of school, you never saw one without the other, especially since William had lost his other mate.

Damian Woods had flipped his lid and hung himself. Poor little bugger. Silly little bugger.

That had knocked the hell out of his big brother too. Ashton Woods was like a whole different person now and all the ‘beautiful people’ stayed well away from him. Virgil didn’t know what to think of that.

Ah well, they were all interesting, but he wasn’t interested. He had the best boyfriend in town. Joel was the greatest and he was all his. How cool was that? Very cool!

He went home.

“Hey, Betty. How’re you on this lovely day in paradise?” Gary sauntered in to the Craypot Cafe like he owned the place.

“Hello, Gary. I’m fine, how are you?”

“I’m good. I’m extra good. I’ll have a thickshake please, lime flavour, and an extra low-fat coffee for the boy here.”

“Who are you calling a boy? I’m just as old as you are.”

“Some of us grow up faster though.”

“You reckon? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Shut up, Lachie. Find yourself a seat – one that’s not going to break.”

“I’ll break one over your head! We’ll sit outside then.” Lachlan headed back out of the door.

“Gary, Honey, get your own drinks, would you? I’m busy here.”

“Sure. Where are Dianne and the boys?”

“Dianne’s gone fishing. I don’t know where the boys are, they’re not back from school yet. It’s about time that they were.”

“They’ll show. They don’t go far. Well, Riley and Jacob don’t, Colin could be anywhere. He’s got a new girlfriend, you know.”

“I know – Missy Waipouri! The boy must have a death-wish.”

“Come on, Betty. Missy’s not that bad. She’s all talk really.”

“If you say so. Help yourself, Gary, I’ll be out the back.”

Gary got the drinks, rang-up the sales and paid with plastic. He took them out to the front and put them on the table in front of Lachlan.

“Thanks.”

“Welcome, Fat Boy. Don’t know how you can drink coffee like that – no milk, cream or sugar. It’s foul.”

“No? Well you just suck on your fat and sugar. What are you doing?”

Gary straightened up from looking under the table.

“Just checking. We wouldn’t want you to go through Dianne’s deck.”

“I’ll put your bloody head through it! Sit down and shut up, Gary.”

“Who said you could wear the king’s hat?”

“I did.”

“Oh, okay. Yes, Boss.”

Gary sat down and they grinned at each other across the table.

“Fatty.”

“Lay-about.”

“Jealous.”

“Of you? Get real. What’s going on over there?”

“Over where?”

“Over the road, in Mrs. Woods’ Tasteful Souvenirs shop? The windows are all covered in white paper.”

“Well I don’t know. Here’s Riley and Jacob, why don’t you ask them?”

“I will. Hey, guys. How’s it going?”

“Going good, Lachlan.” Riley and his mate came in from the street. “I see you’ve got your favourite sparring partner with you.”

“Yeah, well. I feel sorry for him sometimes. He’s got no mates you know.”

“Shut it, McLaughlin. I’ve got mates – better ones than you too.”

“Fantasy Friends don’t count. Riley, what’s Mrs. Woods up to? She planning a ‘tasteful exhibition’ or something?”

“No, not that. We do know, but I don’t think we should tell you. You’ll have to wait and see.”

Jacob said, “Don’t be such a wet blanket, Rye. Everybody loves gossip, and that’s a juicy one. She’s shutting down, Lachlan. Dianne made her.”

“She what? Dianne made Mrs. Woods shut her shop? How did she? Why did she?”

“Mum did not make her shut her shop down. Well, not intentionally, it was their choice.”

“But why did they choose to?” Gary was very interested now. “There’s definitely some juicy gossip here. Spill it, Riley!”

“Yeah. Come on, Rye. You know you’re dying to tell them.”

“Well,” Riley grinned as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “It seems that a certain family is nowhere as rich as they like to make out they are. They’ve been cutting corners and indulging in illegal activities.”

“Like what?”

“Like, dealing in black-market booze, and other junk like ‘P’, from their liquor store. Like falsifying the records of hours worked by farm machinery they’re selling, and winding-back the meters on second-hand cars. Like building and operating unauthorized motel units – definitely not a good look for people who are on the council.

Even worse, their 3 storey mansion, up on the hill, is all flash and no substance. It was built on the cheap and it’s not up to earthquake standards. They paid a council inspector to sign it off when it should’ve been demolished.

The list goes on and on and that’s all without even looking at the way they’ve been treating their kids. They owe a fortune in back taxes too, they couldn’t afford to have the IRD looking to closely at their accounts.”

“Whoah! And Dianne found all this? Why would she even look at their business?”

“My Mum’s a lovely lady, but you really don’t want to get on the wrong side of her. We asked her if she could do anything for Ashton, and she’s having a ball! Anyway, Mr. and Mrs. Woods are sorting their shit out and they’re having to make economies. The shop’s losing money, so it’s shutting down.”

“They’re making changes then?”

“Bigtime! Ashton and his sister have moved out of the horrible boxes they were sleeping in and they’re in the fancy guest-rooms now. Plus, any work they do from now on will be paid at the rate that Dianne negotiated for them. They’re even getting back-pay.”

“She’s getting stuck into them.”

“She is,” Jacob grinned. “Ashton’s Beamer is really his now. They had to pay for it and give it to him legally. It’s in his name now and he can do what he likes with it.”

“Amazing,” Gary said. “Thanks, Guys. Finish your drink, Lachie. We’ve got shopping to do.”

“Shopping? What shopping?”

“We’re going to buy a big bunch of flowers for Dianne.”

“Okay, but why?”

“To say thanks for what she’s doing.”

Riley said, “Gary? Mrs. de Groot has already done that. She arrived around with a huge bunch of flowers from her garden. Mum cried.”

“Well, we might make her cry some more. I want to say thanks and also make sure that we’re on her side. Call it insurance.”

“You don’t have to do that. Mum knows that we’re friends.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be doubly sure. Anyway, I want to. Dianne’s great. When I need a lawyer, I want it to be her.

Whoah! Tottie alert! Look what’s coming down the street.”

Kaimoana Tales, Ashton 55

She left them sitting around the fire, went to her room and closed the door.

“Do you know what the Plan is, Peter?”

“Yes, Jacob. The Plan is for my parents to be wealthy again.”

“But, what about the details? Do you know how they’re going to do it?”

“No I don’t. No-one’s shared that with me yet. I think that they don’t want me to worry.”

Riley said, “Well, you know, if those cookies are part of the Plan, they just might do it. Have you been wishing on a star, Peter? All of your dreams might come true – rich parents and Ashton in your bed!”

“If I have Ashton for a friend, I’ll be more than happy. I don’t care about anything else.”

“Damm, Peter,” Jacob said. “If Ashton doesn’t come back for you, he needs his head read.”

They didn’t stay long; they just spent a few minutes catching-up on each other’s news, and then Riley and Jacob said that they had to go. “Coll’s out somewhere. We’re trying to crack his MSN Messenger to find out who he’s been chatting to.”

“That’s not nice! If it’s private then you should keep your noses out of it.”

“Should,” Jacob grinned, “But we’re not going to. We think Coll’s got a girlfriend and he won’t tell us who it is, so it serves him right.

“It does,” Riley nodded. “We need to know who our new sister-in-law is going to be.”

“Leave him alone you pair of rogues! Are you trying to marry him off or something?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a plan too you know.”

“We have,” Jacob agreed. “We want to be uncles. We should find his condoms and put pin-holes in them.”

“Jacob Richardson! You bloody better not. Don’t think that I won’t tell him. Colin is my friend.”

“Spoilsport. You’re a good friend, Peter.”

“That he is,” Riley agreed. “Want to fool around while your mum’s not here?”

“You know that I don’t.”

“Yeah, dammit. Well, stand up and give me a hug, and then I’ll go home and fool around with my Jake.”

Riley and Jacob both hugged Peter, wished him luck, and then they left.

Peter tried to read for a few minutes, but couldn’t get into it. After reading the same page for the third time, he gave up. He closed his library book, put the spark-guard up at the fire, locked the door, and went to bed, to, hopefully, dream about Ashton again.

It wasn’t late, so he left the outside light on in case Ashton came back. His mother would growl when she found out, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want Ashton hurting himself in the dark. He didn’t come back.

Peter woke in the morning before his mother did. He got the fire going to warm the room before she came out. He made himself a drink and sat with it, thinking quietly.

He had to go to the library later. If Ashton hadn’t come around before he went, he’d email him while he was there, just to let him know that he was thinking about him, and so that Ashton would have his email address.

He didn’t have to find Ashton’s addy, he already knew it. Silly boy had it on his Facebook page, didn’t he? Not a wise move. He was risking getting mail from any sad lonely gits – like Peter de Groot for instance.

Now that he was away from him, he was aware that Ashton was a star, he was popular and he didn’t need Peter for a friend, not like Peter needed him. But, he had spent the end of a day and a night with him and he saw things about him that, apparently, no-one else did. They were friends weren’t they? Sure they were. They’d made a connection, hadn’t they?

His mother was still not out of bed, so he stoked the fire and went out the back to collect the morning’s eggs from the chook-run. While he was out there, he pinched a couple of ripe strawberries, and then filled the basket with tomatoes that were ready for picking.

The gardens at the back of the house didn’t get a lot of direct sunshine, so they brought the tomatoes inside to ripen, sitting on the house windowsills. They’d need to be making sauce soon, they were running out of room!

Back inside, the kettle was boiling over the fire, so he took it off and left it to the side. His mother came out and took over her kitchen and their day began.

He spent most of the morning doing schoolwork and some gardening. He really should have been collecting driftwood, but gave that a miss. He didn’t want to be away from home in case Ashton came back. There was still no sign of him.

It had never worried Peter before that they didn’t have a phone. Lately he was starting to think that they should.

After lunch, he couldn’t put it off any longer, so he went to the town library. Before he left, he made sure that his mother knew where he was going and when he’d be back.

He returned his books and selected some new ones. Mrs. Braidwood had one of the ones she’d ordered for him! He spent some time on the computer, remembering, of course, to send an email to Ashton. It didn’t say much, just that he was thinking of him and hoped that he was okay.

He hit ‘send’, it worked, so now Ashton would have his address. Computers were great. He logged-off, thanked Mrs. Braidwood, and left for home, carrying his new books.

He knew that he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist, so he opened his book and started reading as he walked along the street. He’d been waiting and waiting for this one, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

After the main street, he started along the Esplanade, but on the wrong side of the road. Lost in the book already, he was walking on the grass verge on the side of the street away from the sidewalk along the waterfront.

At the intersection of the first street coming down from the hill, he glanced up the road. A car was coming, but it was way off in the distance, so he kept walking, out across the side-street, still reading his book.

A car came up the Esplanade behind him and went to turn into the side-street. It had to stop and wait for Peter to cross in front of it. He didn’t even see them there until the car horn sounded, loud and long, and it startled him. He got such a fright he dropped his arm-load of books. They hit the ground and scattered everywhere.

He looked around and it was the BMW! It was full, as usual, of teenagers and they were laughing. They were laughing at him! Well, most of them were.

The driver, of course, was Ashton and he wasn’t laughing, he wasn’t even looking at him. It was hard to see them all in there because of the tinted windows, but he could see Ashton’s white face. He was saying something to the blonde girl sitting next to him.

Peter was so embarrassed. He wanted to scuttle away and hide somewhere, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave Mrs. Braidwood’s books scattered over the road, they’d get run over. He dropped to his knees to start gathering the books together, and trying not to cry, that’d just make it worse. He should be used to being a laughing-stock by now, but he never would.

One of the girls in the back, stood up with her head and shoulders out of the BMW’s sun-roof and yelled at him. “Come on, you Bloody Dork! Move your pansy arse! We haven’t got all day while you’re farting around.”

The windows came down and others were leaning out and yelling abuse and laughing at him.

The car started with a jerk, reversed and turned back down the street where they’d come from. With a roar and a squeal of the tyres, they sped off back towards the main street, breaking all the speed limits and with all the beautiful people still yelling and laughing.

Peter picked up all of the books and carried on home, feeling lower than he ever had in his life. That was so embarrassing! He knew that he wasn’t cool, but why did they treat him like that? He was totally humiliated, yet again.

He was crying his eyes out by the time he got back to the sad little shack that he lived in. He walked into the living-room and threw himself, face down, on his cot-bed.

He’d been laughed at a thousand times before, but it never hurt as much as it did this time. That absolute worst thing about it was that Ashton was there and he felt so betrayed by him.

He’d thought that they were friends now, obviously, he was wrong. Ashton didn’t care about him, he was just using him when he needed somebody. Peter was such an idiot! Why did he ever hope for better?

His mother came in and stood by the bed, looking down worriedly, at him. “What is wrong, My Son? Has someone been upsetting you?”

“Ashton!” he wailed.

“Ashton? I thought he was your friend?”

“So did I, Mother. I’m such a fool! He’s gone back to his friends and they’re all laughing at me. I thought . . . I thought . . . I’m so stupid!”

“Oh, Peter.” She sat down and held him while he cried on her shoulder. “You’re not stupid, My Son. You’re a wonderful boy. If Ashton Woods can not see that, then he is the stupid one – really stupid.”

“No he’s not, Mother. It’s me.” Peter turned away and got some toilet paper to clear his eyes and nose. “I knew that he would be feeling bad about his brother and I thought that I could help him. How stupid is that? I’m just a nobody and he’s Ashton! I’m just the town dork. He doesn’t need me, he’s got hundreds of friends. All of the cool kids are Ashton’s friends, not me. I was a fool to think that it could ever be any different.

I’ve got school work to do, I’d better get on with it. This is my life.”

“My poor boy! We have asked a lot of you, and you’ve never complained, but I know it hasn’t been easy for you.”

“I’ve got nothing to complain about. I’ve got you and Father and I know that you love me. I don’t need anything else.”

“But you do. You need so much more than we have given you, and you deserve it too. We are going to make it up to you. Just a little longer and things are going to change. Your life will get better.”

“My life is fine just the way it is.”

“Now you are being foolish. Your life is not fine, but it will be – I promise.”

Peter blew his nose again and gave a little grin. “The Plan, right?”

“Yes, Son, the Plan. I used to think that Father was dreaming, but not now. He was right all along. Things are starting to come together and it is going to happen.”

“I hope you’re right, Mother. You deserve it too, you both do.

“You are the sweetest boy!” She kissed his head, and then stood up. “You are a very special boy and Ashton Woods is the biggest fool in town. You do your schooling. I’ll do some gardening, and then we will have something nice for dinner. I’ll just be outside if you want me.”

“Thank you, Mother. Thanks for everything.”

“Thanks for what? It will get better, Peter. Wait and see.”

His mother went outside to her work and Peter sat at the desk to get on with his. She was a lovely old thing really, and he knew that she loved him. He didn’t doubt it for a minute, he never had.

She just didn’t understand him and this obsession that he had with Ashton Woods, nobody did. He didn’t understand it himself. He knew that it was impossible, but he loved Ashton. He always had and he always would. What a waste of a life!

Kaimoana Tales, Ashton 54

Mrs. de Groot woke them in the morning with a tray of tea and toast. “Good morning, Boys. It is time that you were awake. Did you sleep well, Ashton?”

“Umm, yes, I did, thanks. Thanks for the tea.”

“Enjoy it. Peter, you need to get the fire going please. I will have scrambled eggs for you when you are ready.”

“Thanks, Mother. We’ll be there soon.” Peter sat up and took toast in one hand and tea in the other. “Are you okay, Ashton?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for letting me stay.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Ashton sat there, feeling awkward. Nobody had said anything, but he felt a bit strange being in bed with Peter when his mother was in the same room. He was sure glad that he’d worn the pj’s.

“Do you, ah, do you have friends staying over often?”

“Friends?” Peter smiled. “What friends? No, I’ve never had anyone stay the night before. Ever. It’s a whole new experience for me. Thanks, Ashton.”

“Thank you. I really didn’t want to go home last night. I still don’t, but I’d better.”

“Will your parents be worried about you?”

“Not likely! They won’t even know I’m not there. They don’t give a damm about me; as long as the work’s done, they don’t care.”

“They’re mad! Maybe things will change now that they’ve lost a son?”

“I can’t see it. They won’t change, but I bloody will!”

“That is good,” Peter nodded. “It’ll be good if something good comes out of your poor brother’s dying.”

“Yeah? I think something good has already happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve got you for a friend, haven’t I? That’s good.”

“It is! Very good. You could’ve always had me, you just didn’t know.”

“No, I didn’t. I was blind. You’re a good one, Peter.”

“I’m just me,” he blushed. “You are the special one. Our worlds are so different, we just didn’t come together.”

“Now they have. I’ve got to go home, there’ll be a mess to clean up, but I’ll be back if I can.”

“You can come back any time you want to. You’ll always be more than welcome here.”

“Thank you, My Friend.”

“Now I’d better get up and light the fire. Your clothes are on the chair, I folded them and Mother has left a towel for you. You could get dressed in the bathroom and have a shower if you want to.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.”

They cleaned up, and then sat at the table and Mrs. de Groot served up big plates of scrambled eggs on toast. They were light and fluffy, but they were almost like omelets, they had chopped onions, tomatoes and herbs in them.

“This is great, Mrs. de Groot. I’ll be as big as a house if you keep feeding me like this.”

“Nonsense. Growing boys need their food. Enjoy it, Ashton. I like to see people eating good food.”

“This is very good food. The eggs are a rich colour.”

“Of course they are, they’re free range and organic fed. We have our own hens, on the hill out at the back. Now, I’m going to clean-up my bedroom. There’s a box of food there. Take it home to your mother when you go. The poor woman won’t be feeling like cooking.”

“She never does, but thanks. That’s nice of you.”

(He’d take it home all right. Suzanne could have some, but the parents wouldn’t – stuff ‘em. It was too good for them.)

When he left, Peter walked out to the car with him. “You’re not going to school today?”

“No. I couldn’t stand that. I’m having the rest of the week off. How come you never go to school?”

“I’m home-schooled, I don’t even have to leave the room. I do my schooling on the desk by my bed.”

“That’d be nice on a wet day.”

“It is nice. I get a bit lonely though.”

“Wrong! Maybe you used to, but not any more. I’ll be back so often you’ll get sick of the sight of me.”

“That is never going to happen. You’ve made me very happy, thanks, Ashton.”

“Thank you, Peter. I’m sad for my brother, but you’ve made me happier than I’ve been for a long time, maybe forever. Thanks for coming and finding me yesterday. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t there.”

“I don’t even want to think about that. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Yeah? I think you would too, and that’s good!”

Ashton hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. He got into his car and left before he started crying. Peter went back inside, grinning from ear to ear. Riley was so not going to believe this! His impossible dream had come true – wicked!

Peter hung around home all day, which was not unusual. He did have some errands that he should’ve been doing, but they could wait. It was more important for him to be there if Ashton came back. However, he didn’t.

He was disappointed, but decided that that was just being selfish. He wanted to see him, but Ashton was probably busy. They’d just buried his brother and his family probably needed him there. The Woods would, wouldn’t they? Yes, of course they would.

Even so, he couldn’t help looking up hopefully ever time a car went past. He didn’t show.

After dark, he was lying on his bed, reading a book – on it not in it as he usually did. He had still not quite stopped hoping that Ashton would come back. There was a knock on the door and he flew across the room and opened it before his mother was halfway there.

“Oh. It’s you.”

It was only Riley. Only? Any other time he would’ve been delighted to see his friend.

“Sorry. I was expecting . . .someone else. Hello Riley, how’re you?”

“I’m good. Nice that you’re so pleased to see us. Can we come in for a minute?”

“Of course. I am pleased to see you, I always am. Please come in.”

“Okay. Come on, Jake! Shake a leg or whatever!” He grinned at Peter. “He’s in the toilet.”

“I don’t want to think about that. Come and sit by the fire.”

Riley stepped in the room, Mrs. de Groot looked up and beamed. “Riley! How nice. Come and sit down and I will make us some tea.”

“Hey, Mrs. de Groot. No tea, thanks. We’re not stopping, we just called in for a minute to say hello.”

“Nonsense. It’s chilly out there. Some nice hot tea will warm you up. I’ve got cake.”

“You’ve always got cake. Really, thanks but we don’t want anything. We haven’t got time.”

“Yes you have. There’s always time for tea. Sit down and talk, it won’t take a minute.”

“Well, umm, yeah. Maybe just a taste then.”

“Good boy! Boys need to eat.”

“Mother!” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Shush, Peter. Talk to your friend.”

Jacob appeared out of the dark. “Hey Guys. Sorry about that, I was busting!”

“That’s okay, Jacob. When you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go. At least you didn’t do it on the vege garden.”

“I thought I was going to have to do it out in the street! We just got here in time. Hey, Mrs. de Groot, how are you?”

“I am very well, thank you Jacob. Thank you for asking. Take a seat by the fire; I am just getting tea.”

“There’s a surprise! No, sorry. Tea would be great, thanks, but we’re really not hungry.”

“Of course you are. Of course you are. Boys are always hungry.”

“Not around here, they’re not.”

“Don’t be cheeky, Jacob.”

“Cheeky? Who, me?”

“Yes you, you scamp. Go away before I have to smack you.”

They exchanged grins and Jacob joined the others by the fire.

“So, Peter, who were you expecting if not us? Is your father due home? No, he wouldn’t knock, would he?”

“No, not Father. I thought that you were Ashton actually.”

“Ashton? Not likely! We don’t even look like him; and we haven’t got a Beamer.”

“I had noticed that.”

“Everyone’s smart tonight. Peter, my friend, why would you think that it was Ashton knocking on your door? Seriously, you’ve really got to get over this obsession with Ashton Woods. He’s got his world and you’ve got yours, and there’s no way that he’s going to come knocking on your door.”

“Don’t you believe it, Riley,” Peter grinned. “Ashton was here yesterday. He gave me a ride home in the Beamer.”

“No! Really?”

“Yes, really. He stayed the night here too; he slept with me.”

“He did not!”

“He did so. Ask Mother, she woke us up this morning.”

“She did? Really?? Damm, Peter, that’s fantastic! How did that happen?”

“Ashton has a place where he goes when he’s feeling down and needs to be by himself. I thought he’d go there after Damian’s funeral and I was worried about him, so I waited there for him. We talked, he brought me home, he didn’t want to go back to his house, so he stayed here. He slept in my bed. Nothing happened, we just slept. He went home this morning; he said that he’d be back, but he hasn’t yet. He’s probably busy with family stuff.”

“Wow! Just wow. That’s great, Peter, really great. Ashton Woods and Peter de Groot!” Riley beamed his approval.

Jacob agreed. “It is great. You’re a fantastic kid, Peter. Ashton is a lucky boy. If I didn’t have my Riley, I’d be chasing you too.”

“Oi!!” Riley protested.

“Shut up, Riley. I’m all yours and you know it, but who wouldn’t want a love like Peter has for that kid?”

“Yeah, you’re right, and Ashton is very lucky. So he hasn’t come back yet? He’s an idiot if he doesn’t. Has he got a big dick?”

“Eww! Shut up, Riley – really shut up! I don’t know and I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”

“Fair enough, I suppose. Dammit. Can I be your Best Man?”

“Yeah, right! I can’t see that ever happening, but if I ever need a Best Man, of course it would be you.”

“Yeah, we love you too, don’t we, Jake?”

“Sure we do. You’re our mate, Peter, and we love you.”

“As you should, as you should.” Mrs. de Groot came over with the dreaded tea-trolley, but this time there was surprisingly little on it. She handed them each a small plate with a single, large and round, cookie on it.

“Now, Boys, as you all insist that you are not hungry, I want you to try these and tell me what you think of them. Don’t say that they are nice to be polite. Tell me what you really think. The tea is in the pot, help yourself when you are ready.”

They watched each other as they all took a taste and chewed thoughtfully. They all bit bigger mouthfuls. Jacob swallowed, looked at what was left, and looked up. “Wow!”

“Definitely,” Riley agreed. “You’ve got it, Jake. Wow says it all. Mrs. de Groot, these are fantastic – incredible! You always make good food, but these are something else. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

“Yes, wow,” Jacob grinned. “Got any more? I never want to eat anything else again.”

“It’s wonderful, Mother. Really wonderful. Is this the recipe that Father emailed to me?”

“Yes, it is. Thank you, Boys. It is a recipe that Father and Uncle developed together. Would you like another one?”

Jacob held up his empty plate. “Does a bear shit in the woods? No, sorry, but yes! Please, more!”

“Seriously.” Riley held his plate up as well.

“Just one more then.” She replenished their plates. “If you are still hungry, there is fruit-loaf on the sink-bench.”

“Mrs. de Groot, would you consider selling these in Mum’s café?”

“I don’t think so, Riley, but thank you for asking.”

“But, well, why not then? If people get a taste of these, they’d buy all that you could make. You could make a lot of money.”

“I hope that we do. That is the Plan. You know.”

“The Plan? I hope it works for you.”

“So do we all. If all goes well, we hope to sell thousands of these every week.”

“Thousands?” said Jacob. “How do you plan to do that?”

“Ah, that is for me to know,” she smiled. “Thank you, Boys. I am going to bed now; have a nice visit.”

“’Night, Mrs. de Groot.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mother.”

Greetings from New Zealand

Kick arse!

Kaimoana Tales, Ashton 53

(Just because).

Mrs de Groot busied herself in the kitchen area, the boys sat and looked at the fire. It was all driftwood burning, like a beach-fire brought inside. So that was why he saw Peter pushing a cart full of wood around.

Ashton looked around the crowded, cluttered, little room. It was a big room for the little house, it was probably more than half the floor area of the whole house, but it was small compared to what he was used to.

The kitchen and dining areas were at the end by the backdoor and there was a bed (!) at the opposite end. It was all very full, there wasn’t an empty space anywhere. The floor was covered in a dozen bits of mis-matched carpet pieces.

At first glance, it looked like it had been furnished from a junk shop. However, Ashton had grown up in a house full of objects d’art and he knew quality when he saw it. Some of the bits and pieces here were very high-class stuff. His mother would love to get her hands on them.

There were books everywhere, and they were good books too. There was no sign of a computer, there wasn’t even a TV.

“What are you thinking, Ashton?”

“Eh? Oh. This is a nice room, it looks like a home.”

“It is a home,” Peter grinned. “We live here.”

“Of course you do – you’re lucky. So there’s just your mum and you?”

“And Father, when he’s home. Soon he won’t have to go away for work and he’ll be here all of the time. That will be great.”

“It will? You like your parents, don’t you?”

“I love my parents and they love me too.”

“Really? You don’t know how lucky you are.”

“Oh, but I do. I’m very lucky.”

“Yeah, you are. My parents don’t give a shit about me.”

“I’m sorry, Ashton. Your parents must be blind. You are their greatest treasure.”

“Yeah? I wish they thought so, but they don’t. They think more of their dogs than their kids.”

“They must be mad!”

“Something like that.”

Mrs. de Groot came over, pushing an old-fashioned tea-trolley which was laden with trays of cakes and goodies.

“Here we are, Boys. Eat up, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Ashton’s eyes popped. “Wow, this looks great, thanks, but there’s way too much here for just the two of us.”

“Nonsense. You eat. We don’t want you going away hungry.’

“Not much chance of that,” Peter grinned. “Eat what you can, Ashton. Mother is a great cook and she likes feeding people.”

“That’s great.” Ashton took a piece of apple crumble. “Did you make all of this, Mrs. de Groot?”

“I did indeed, this and more. I’ve got some savouries heating in the oven, they must be nearly ready. Would you like some vegetable soup, Boys? There’s hot soup on the stove.”

“Well, maybe just a taste would be good, thanks.”

“Wonderful!” she beamed. “You are a good boy. Stay there and I will get it. You will have some too, Peter. You don’t eat enough.”

“Mother, I eat plenty.”

“You are a growing boy. You need more. Are you warm enough, Ashton? Put some more wood on the fire, Peter.”

“Mother, the fire is fine. Don’t fuss.”

“I do not fuss. We don’t want your guest to get cold. I’ll get the soup and savouries, just wait.”

She hurried back to the kitchen and Peter shrugged. “Sorry. Mother can be a bit much sometimes.”

“No she’s not! You’re mother’s great. She’s a nice lady.”

“She is really,” Peter smiled. “There’s never a cross word around here.”

“Never? Wow. You wouldn’t want to see my house.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, but it is.”

Mrs. de Groot came back. “Here you are, Boys. Nice hot soup and bread fresh out of the oven. Have you eaten some cakes? I’ll get some more.”

“Mother! There’s no need. We’re never going to eat half of what you’ve got here.”

“You must try harder, Peter. The savouries are ready, I’ll get them now.”

She went back and Ashton grinned. “I’m starting to see what you mean. There’s so much food here! You must have a lot of waste?”

“No. Not at all. A load goes to the Old Folks Home, twice a week.”

“That much? I hope she gets a good price for it.”

“No, she just gives it to them.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Mother loves baking, it’s her one extravagance.”

“You’ve got a great mother, Peter.”

“Yes, I have. It’s a shame that they never had any more children. Mother and Father would have been great grandparents.”

Ashton wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but Mrs. de Groot came back and he let it pass.

“Nice hot savouries. Please be careful and do not burn your mouths. Oh, I am a silly old thing – I forgot the tea!”

When she returned with the tea-tray, there was nowhere to put it, so it went on the hearth in front of the fire.

“There now, the fire will keep it warm until you are ready for it. Now, have you got everything you need? Did you see the funeral today? There was a huge turn-out for that poor boy.”

Ashton gulped and turned to look at the fire.

“Sorry, Ashton. Mother, the funeral was for Damian Woods, he was Ashton’s brother.”

“He was your brother? Oh, I am so sorry, you poor lamb! That is so sad. What a terrible, terrible thing to lose your brother. Your parents must be devastated.”

“Well, umm, yeah. Thanks.”

“Awful, just awful.” She went back and got a tray for herself.

“I am going to bed with my book now, and will leave you in peace. Have a nice visit, Boys. It’s lovely to meet you, Ashton and I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Thank you and thanks for the great food. Nice to meet you too. Goodnight, Mrs. de Groot.”

“Goodnight, Boys. Lock the door after Ashton leaves, Peter. Perhaps he’d like to take some food when he goes?”

“No, Mother, he wouldn’t. Thanks anyway. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my Lovely Son.” She went into the other room.

Ashton looked up at the grandmother clock on the mantelpiece above the fire. “It’s early to be going to bed, isn’t it?”

“It’s early, but she’ll read for an hour or two. She’s not really going to bed, she’s just getting out of the way so we can talk.”

“That’s nice of her, but she shouldn’t have worried. We could go to your room, couldn’t we?”

“Ashton, this is my room.”

“Oh.” He looked around. “That explains the bed then. So you sleep in the living-room?”

“Yes, I always have. There’s only one bedroom. Mother and Father sleep in there. I like sleeping by the fire.”

“Yes, that would be pretty cool – or warm really. You have an interesting life, Peter. It’s so different to mine.”

“We are different. We’re two extremes – the richest kid in town and the poorest one.”

“I think you’re right, but it’s not the way people think it is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the rich boy is you, Peter, not me.”

“Me? Oh, no. To be rich you’d have to have money and I don’t have any. Look around you, Ashton. You live in a palace, I live in a shack.”

“No you don’t! You live in a warm and comfortable home with parents who love you. I live in a cold art gallery with parents who don’t love anyone but themselves. You’re the rich one, Peter. I’d swap places with you anyday.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“It’s worse. I hate my life. Damian hated it so much. He killed himself to escape from it.”

“That’s so sad, but it’s no escape. Damian was being stupid.”

“He was. He snapped and he lashed out, but the only person he really hurt was himself. They don’t care. Neither of them has shed a single tear. They’re pissed at him for embarrassing them but they don’t care about him. No-one cares about Damian.”

“That’s not true. You care about him.”

“Oh, sure! Now I do – now that it’s too late. Doesn’t do him any good though, does it?” He swung around and sat staring into the fire. “He was my little brother; I should’ve been there for him and I wasn’t!”

“You didn’t know.”

“I should have known! I knew the shit he was going through and I did nothing.”

“Ashton, what could you do? You were in the same place and your life was no better than his.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Well, I’m not going to do it anymore. I’m done with playing their games. Fuck ‘em!”

“Now you’re talking. You’ve got rights, stand up for them.”

“Yeah.” Ashton turned to look at Peter. “You know, that’s the exact same thing that William said.”

“William?”

“William Scott. He was Damian’s best friend – his only friend really. He said that I should demand what I’m entitled to.”

“William knew what your life was like?”

“He knows; he said that Damian showed him. William and his cousin, Dylan, came down to Christchurch to see Damian. They were too late, he died before they got there.”

“So now William is crying for him too?”

“I guess. Yeah, he was crying. He was bloody angry too.”

“That’s understandable, he’s lost his friend, poor kid.”

“Yeah, poor William. At least he’s got Dylan to hold him while he cries. Know who I’ve got? Nobody!” Ashton dropped his head, covered his face in his hands and cried, sobbing and shaking.

Peter cried as he watched him. He wasn’t sure what he should do, but he had to do something. This aching boy was the boy he’d been in love with forever. He dropped out of his chair, knelt on the floor next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Ashton?”

“Oh, Peter!” Ashton grabbed hold of him and slid out of his chair. “Hold me! Please hold me,” he sobbed.

Peter wrapped him in his arms and they knelt together, crying together.

“Okay.” Ashton pushed away as he recovered his composure. “That was so not cool.”

“You don’t have to be cool around me, I never believed it anyway. Of course you need to cry for your brother. You cry all you want to.”

“Thanks, Peter. You’re a good guy, you’d be a great friend.”

“Ashton, I’d be your friend anytime you wanted me to.”

“Oh, I do; I really do. I need a friend.’

“You’ve got one. Please don’t go back to the top of the cliff again.”

“Why not? That’s where I go.’

“I know, and you never look happy when you’re up there. If someone was to jump off there, they’d smash into the rocks and die horribly.”

“I’ve thought about it.”

“I know you have. Please don’t go back there.”

“Would you cry if I did it?”

“You know that I would.”

“Yes, I think you would. I’d better get back to my cold and loveless house now.”

“You don’t have to. Stay the night here if you like.”

“Could I? But where would I sleep?”

“You can have my bed, I’ll go and sleep in the bus.”

“You would do that? But it’s cold and dark out there.”

“I’ll take a candle.”

“No. You can’t do that. I’m not putting you out of your bed. I’ll sleep in the bus.”

“You’re not sleeping in the bus. We haven’t got the power on out there yet.”

“Okay, we’ll both sleep in here then.”

“All right, we’ll sleep in here. You can have the bed and I’ll sleep in a chair.”

“You will not! We’ll both sleep in the bed.”

“There’s not a lot of room in there. It’s only a small bed.”

“So we’ll get close.”

“No, sorry. I can’t do that.”

“You can’t? Why not? I thought you liked me. I thought that we were friends. I’m not putting the moves on you, I’d just like you to hold me some more.”

“Ashton, I’m sorry. I can’t. It’d be too hard – I’d be too hard. I’m gay you know.’

“You’re gay? Really? Peter, I think you’re just about perfect actually. Being gay would not be a problem, believe me.”

“Not a problem? Damm. Ashton, are you saying that there might be a chance?”

“There’s a very good chance, My Friend. Sometime, we’re going to talk about that, but not tonight. Tonight I just want you to hold me. Please?”

“Okay, of course. I’d love to hold you. We’ll do that. Do you want to shower before we go to bed?”

“You’ve got a shower?”

“Yes. Father put one in over the bath. The bathroom is over there, next to the kitchen.”

“I don’t want a shower, I don’t think I’m too smelly. Maybe in the morning? I do need to use the toilet though. Is that in the bathroom?”

“No, it’s outside the back-door. Don’t worry, it’s not a long drop; we’ve got a flush toilet, it’s just outside.”

“Good! I’m pleased about that. I’ll find it then.”

When he came back inside, Peter went to use it as well. “There’s some pjamas on the chair by the fire. They should fit you; you’re taller than me but you’re no bigger.”

“Thanks. I’ll try them.”

Peter went outside, carrying pj’s for himself. When he returned, he was wearing them and carrying his clothes. He locked the door and turned the light off.

The room was still well-lit by the open fire.

“You get into bed, Ashton. I’ll fix the fire.”

Ashton lay in bed and watched the very blond boy load the fire up with big chunks of wood. He put the spark-guard up in front of it. (“So we don’t burn the house down.”)

He came over and climbed into bed with Ashton. It was a small and narrow bed, so they were pressed up against each other, which neither of them minded.

“We are just going to go to sleep, but I have to tell you – I’ve dreamed of this, so many times! I can’t believe that you might be gay too.”

“I don’t know if I am or not. Let’s just say that I’m interested, okay? From now on, I’m going to live my life the way I want to. But, not now. For now all I can think about is Damian.”

“Of course it is.”

“He looked so small and sad lying in that box; and now he’s in the ground!” Ashton cried.

They clung together and cried together until they went to sleep.

He woke once during the night and sat bolt upright, sweating and shaking. Damm! What a weird dream. He was back at the top of the cliffs, in his rental suit, and there was an open, empty, coffin on the rocks below him. Damian appeared, suspended in the air in front of him, swinging on the rope around his neck. He was beckoning and calling to him, telling him to come with him.

It was just a dream. A horrible, vivid dream. Now he was awake.

He hadn’t been asleep long, the fire was still burning brightly, it was crackling softly. The clock on the mantelpiece ticked. This was a nice warm room, so much better than his own.

He looked down at the beautiful blond boy sleeping beside him. Peter was gorgeous and he wasn’t a dream. He was real, warm and alive. Beautiful. He kissed him softly on his sleeping lips, and then lay back down, snuggled into him and went to sleep with a smile on his face.

Kaimoana Tales, Ashton 52

(Hey Guys - just a short one. It's way too busy here - school holidays and i live in a mad-house! There's 12 kids here, i think - hard to count heads when they won't keep still.)

They stumbled and slid down the gully to the foot of the hill. Peter was much faster, he reached the bottom long before Ashton did and stood waiting for him to catch up.

“Wow, Peter. I would never have picked you for the athletic type.”

“I’m not really. I just work and play hard. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“There is, but I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to find out.”

“I hope so.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They made their way along the rocks at the foot of the cliffs. Ashton felt like they’d only been there for a few minutes, but it must have been longer than that, the tide had risen a long way since he arrived. Much longer and they would’ve been getting wet feet.

They didn’t, but it was close in places. Back at the car, he pointed the keys at it and it unlocked with a ‘beep’ and a flash of the lights.

Peter was impressed. “Whoah. Does it have an alarm too?”

“Sure it does. It’s got all the bells and whistles. The alarm’s off when the doors are unlocked. Do you drive, Peter?”

“No, I’ve never learnt. We don’t have a car.”

“None at all?”

“No, we never have.”

“We’ve always had lots. They get them cheap because he’s a car-salesman.”

“The only one in town. Our lives are very different.”

“I think they are, and the more different to mine your life is, the better off you are.”

“Do you not like your life, Ashton?”

“I bloody hate it! Damian did too, that’s why he did it.”

“That is sad. He was a silly boy. I hope that you never do what Damian did.”

“I’ve thought about it. Jump in, Peter, and we’ll get going.”

They got in and buckled-up.

“Are these seats real leather?”

“Yeah, some poor cow had to die so that you could sit there.”

“That’s not nice.”

“It’s not. Especially not for the cow. But they’re all going to die anyway.”

“I suppose so. Whoah! What are you doing?”

“Just adjusting your seat. They go up and down and in and out at the touch of a button.”

“Very cool. Is that a TV screen?”

“No, that’s the GPS. The TV’s down there.”

“I’m so ignorant. What’s a GPS?”

“Global Positioning Satellite, I think. The car’s computer reads where it is from a satellite up there somewhere, and puts it up in a map on the screen. And, you’re not ignorant.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. Your car has a computer in it?”

“Lots of new cars have these days. No big deal.”

“It is a big deal. You have an amazing car, Ashton. What else does it do?”

Ashton took a few minutes to show him all the different features and toys in the Beamer – the TV, the music etc.

“The stereo has even got a remote. Why, I don’t know. It’s not like you can’t reach the buttons on the dash. All that’s lacking really is a big flashing sign on the roof, saying, “Look at me!””

“You’re not in love with your wonderful car then?”

“No, I’m not. It’s just a car. Let’s get you home then.”

He drove back into town and pulled-up outside Peter’s little house.

“Thanks for the ride. That was something I’ll remember. It must be comfortable on long trips.”

“I guess. I wouldn’t know really. I’m only allowed to drive it in the town. The only time I’ve been anywhere in it was to Christchurch, for Damian, and Dad drove then.”

“You don’t drive it out of town?”

“No, never. South Bay is as far as I’m allowed to go.”

“Oh. Are you coming in?”

“Into your house? Are you sure I’m welcome?”

“You’ll always be welcome here, Ashton.”

“Thanks. But, what about your parents? Are you allowed visitors?”

“Yes, of course I am. Father is away, working, but Mother is here. She will make you very welcome. Just don’t tell her that you’re hungry.”

“But I am hungry. I’ve had nothing to eat all day. Still, I can wait; there’ll be plenty of food when I get home. There always is after a party, we get the left-overs.”

“I think that you won’t be wanting any left-overs. Come inside.”

Peter untied and opened the driftwood gate and they walked up the side of the house on the new brick path. Well, the path was new, the bricks were old. They’d re-laid the path after the yard was dug-up to get the old bus up there. Ashton followed Peter’s lead and they stopped at the back-door and took their shoes off, putting them up in the box screwed to the wall.

Peter pushed the door open. “Hello, Mother. I’m home.”

The old lady looked around and her face lit up with a big smile.

“Hello, My Son. It’s about time you came home. You know that I worry.”

“No worries, Mother. This is my friend, Ashton.”

“Another new friend! That is wonderful. Hello Ashton.”

“Hey, Mrs, ah, de Groot. Are you sure that it’s all right for me to be here?”

“Of course it is. Of course it is. Come and sit by the fire and I’ll make us some tea. Are you hungry, Ashton?”

“No, he’s not, Mother!” Peter leapt in. “He’ll have something to eat but he’s definitely not hungry. Please don’t over-feed him.”

“Nonsense, Peter. I don’t over-feed people. Anyway, Ashton is a growing boy. Teenagers are always hungry. Is that not right, Ashton?”

“Well, yeah, I guess I am a little bit hungry.”

“Of course you are! Wonderful.”

Peter grinned and shook his head. “Oh, dear.”

“Sit by the fire and I’ll put some more wood on it.”

“You’ll cook us! I’ll look after the fire, Mother. You could get us that drink.”

“Peter worries me, you know. You do not eat enough, My Son.”

“Mother, I eat plenty. You’d have me as big as a house!”

“I would have you happy and healthy. Boys need their food

KaimoanaTales, Ashton 51

They buried him on Wednesday. It was a long time to wait, the whole town had been talking about nothing else since Sunday morning. No-one knew why he did it, but there were a hundred theories. The general consensus was that the boy was insane. What other reason could there be?

He was only 14 years old, not much more than a child. He had a good home and a good family – one of the leading families in the town. He had all the opportunities any kid could want to build a great life for himself, and he’d thrown it all away. He must’ve been mad!

William was ropeable. When he wasn’t crying, he was practically spitting sparks. He hated those people so much! Dylan, concerned about him, spoke to Emmy and she agreed with him. She totally agreed and, together, they made William sit down and tell his parents everything he knew.

They were disgusted with what they heard of Damian’s parents and his home situation, but they agreed with Dylan. It would do no-one any good for Wills to go sounding off. What was done was done and they hadn’t broken any laws, apart from the laws of common decency.

Paul said, “Wills, that’s a sad and shocking story, the poor kid, but that’s still a stupid thing he did. There were other ways of dealing with it. Killing himself was no answer. It hasn’t fixed anything, all it’s done is to hurt everyone and especially himself.”

Sarah looked at her boy, sitting on the sofa, wrapped in Dylan’s arms and crying into his chest. “I hope you know, Wills, just how much we all love you – all of us and especially Dills. You’ve got a good friend there.”

“I do know that!” William sobbed. “Dills is the greatest. Best friend anyone ever had, and I love you guys too. Thanks. I just wish I could’ve done something, anything, for Damian.”

“You did, Wills,” Dylan said. “You were his best friend and that’s a lot.”

“It wasn’t enough!”

“It was what you had. You didn’t know.”

“I suppose. Thanks, Dills.” William looked at his parents and sister. He stood up, took Dylan’s hand and pulled him to his feet.

“Thanks, Mum, Dad, Emmy. Now you know. Dills, come with me, I’ve got something in my room.”

They left the room with their hands still linked.

“Well!” Paul said. “Wills is right, Damian’s parents were bastards, but what he did didn’t fix anything.”

“At least the poor boy’s out of his misery now. It’s a shame that Wills didn’t bring him to us, but, as Dills says, he didn’t know.’

“No-one did. Sarah, those two, Wills and Dills, they’re very close. Do you think that they’re having sex together?”

“Paul! They’re two teenage boys, full of hormones and testosterone. They obviously love each other, they’ve been sharing a room for 4 months and they spend their days together as well. What do you think?”

“Well, yes. I think they are.”

“Of course they bloody are!”

“And you have no problem with that?”

“Why should I? Do you have a problem?”

“No, I don’t actually. They’re going to do it somewhere and Wills is a very good-looking boy, he’d be a predator’s dream. If they’re together, that’s good.”

“Yes it is, so leave them alone. Dylan’s a good boy. Wills has never been more settled and happy and he’s safe with Dills.”

Emmy smiled at her parents. “Wow. You guys are great. Does that mean I can get a boyfriend and bring him home and do it too?”

“No, it does not! Your situation is completely different and you know it.”

“Dammit!”

“Behave yourself, Emmy.”

They all went to the funeral and Dylan’s parents came with them too. None of the adults knew Damian, they were there to support their boys.

The church was packed, but they managed to get seats near the back. A lot of people didn’t and they stood behind the pews and outside the front doors. It was a huge turn-out for a weekday afternoon. Damian was a quiet, private, boy, but his family were very well known, they had a lot of connections and the crowd was there to support them.

Dylan sat next to William and shushed him when he snorted as the Woods family walked in and up to the front. Ashton and his father wore conservative black suits and ties with white shirts. Suzanne wore a simple black dress and shoes. Mrs. Woods was swathed in black; she even had a broad-brimmed hat with a heavy black veil.

“Who does she think she is? Queen, bloody, Victoria or something?”

“Hush, Wills. You can rant all you like after, but not here.”

Ashton smiled and nodded at them as he passed. At least he appreciated that Damian’s friend was there.

It was a full-blown Catholic ceremony with all the ritual and rigmarole, and it seemed to take forever. When, at last, it was over, the pallbearers went out with the coffin, followed by the family and preceded by the priest. The crowd shuffled out behind them, those from the front pews going first.

When William, and his family, went out the door, Mr. and Mrs. Woods were standing there speaking to the people and receiving their condolences, like it was a bloody debutantes’ ball or something!

William snorted and Dylan kept him walking, straight past them and to the car.

They went to the burial at the hilltop cemetery. There were great views up there, but the residents didn’t appreciate them. Afterwards, they didn’t go to the customary afternoon-tea, which was at the council rooms. That’d just be asking for trouble. They took William home.


Ashton left his parents and joined the long line of people moving past. He took his turn to trickle a handful of dirt onto his brother’s coffin. It looked so sad and pathetic down there at the bottom of the deep hole.

Just 14 years and it was all over. The box, and his young flesh, would rot away and Damian’s bones would lie down there, forever. Too sad.

The line kept moving and he passed the grave. His parents were standing back there, looking sad and pathetic too. Bloody hypocrites! This was all their fault and were they sorry? They were bloody loving it, especially the sadly-bereaved mother. Cow.

He didn’t go back to his place in the reception line. He’d had enough of this bullshit. He walked away, got in his car and left.

Back at the house, he got out of the monkey suit and into casual clothes. The suit was a rental. It’d be more than his life was worth if he got it dirty.

He went out of the house – it was not a home. They’d be partying there all night, he couldn’t be bothered with that. He got back into the Beamer and left.

He knew that no-one would believe it, but he was lonely. He had absolutely nobody who he could really talk to. He was pissed at Damian for doing what he did, but he could kind-of understand it.

Did Damian’s mate, William, understand it? He didn’t know. He’d have to talk to him sometime, but not now. William was, obviously, still angry about it all. He’d be all right, he had his cousin, Dylan, looking after him. Ashton wished that he had a cousin, or anyone, like that. William didn’t know how lucky he was.

He drove the short distance out of town, past Taylor’s Beach and out to the north-end of the Peninsular. He was going to where he always went when he wanted to be alone. He didn’t really want to be alone, but he was. The only other choice was for him to play the game and be the wonderful Ashton Woods, richest kid in town. Hah! If only they knew. He was more like the poorest kid really.

He left the Beamer in the carpark near the seal colony and locked it up. It wouldn’t pay to have it stolen. They’d be burying him too! He started along the Peninsular Track, went around a couple of the small bays, and then veered off and climbed up a steep and narrow little gully up to the top of the cliffs.

It was not easy getting up there, but he’d done it many times before. This was his private place where no-one could see him cry. He hauled himself up on to the ridge near the top and stood looking down the cliffs to the surging sea breaking on the rocks below.

How many times had he stood up there, wishing that he had the guts to just drop off and be done with it? Way too many, but not enough. Even now, he couldn’t do it and he’d never felt lower in his life. Well, not often anyway.

Damian was 2 years younger than him, he was just a kid, but he’d done it – he’d dropped off. And what a way to do it – right in their drunken faces! He hoped he’d hurt them, they deserved it. No, they’d only see it as it affected them. They always did.

He stood there, thinking about Damian. Stupid little shit! He could understand him wanting to lash-out at them, but what did he get out of it? Well, release, he supposed, but at what a cost. It had cost him everything. Nothing was worth that. Was it?

Dumb kid. He wished that he was a better brother for him, like Dylan was with his cousin, William, protecting and caring for him. They weren’t brothers, they were cousins, but that’s pretty close. He wished that he had a cousin like that, or a big brother. Now he had no brothers at all, it was too late.

The long, rubbery strands of the seaweed, swirling in the sea below, were calling to him. It was hypnotic, watching them. They were like mermaid’s hair – giant mermaids. He could just jump and it’d be all over, forever.

“Thinking about your brother, Ashton?”

What? Where? Who?

He swung around and Peter de Groot was sitting there, looking down at him. He was squatting on top of a big rock on the top of the hill, looking like an elf – or, rather, like a little blond, wingless angel. He was back-lit by the late afternoon sun and his fair hair shone like a halo on his head.

What was he doing here? He’d often seen him, going past, collecting seaweed, on the rocks below, but never up here in his place on top of the cliffs.

“I. . yeah, I am. What are you doing up here, Peter? This is where I come to think.”

“I know you do. I thought you might need someone to talk to today. Sorry. I shouldn’t intrude; I’ll go and leave you alone.

I’m really sorry about Damian though, poor kid.”

“Yeah, he was. Thanks. Don’t go, I do need someone to talk to.”

“I’m here for you.” Peter slid down off his rock and came down to Ashton on the narrow ledge. They sat, side by side, looking out to sea.

“How did you know I’d be here?”

“I didn’t know, but I thought you might come here after burying your brother.”

“Did you really?”

“Yeah, I know that this is where you come when you want to get away from everything, and you must be upset today – sad for your brother and angry with him too.”

“I am! Bloody angry with him. But, how did you know that I come here?”

“You always do. I’ve seen you sitting up here for years now, always alone.”

“You’ve never come up and spoken to me before.”

“You’ve never buried your brother before.”

“Too true. You’re always alone too.”

“I was. All my life I was alone, but not now. Since Riley moved to town, I’ve got a friend.”

“Riley Sullivan. You’re lucky, Kid. I wish that I had a friend.”

“You’ve got hundreds of friends.”

“Not really; not real friends. I’ve got hangers-on and fans, they’re not friends, they don’t even know me. It’s all just a game we play.”

“I thought so. I’d be your friend, Ashton, if you wanted me to.”

“You think you know me, do you?”

“I know you’re not happy.”

“Of course I’m not bloody happy, my brother just killed himself.”

“I know. I hope that you never get as miserable as he must have been.”

“How do you know that he was miserable?”

“I just know. Sometimes he used to sit up here too, on his own and looking sad.”

“He did? I didn’t know that. So Damian used to sit here like I do?”

“Yeah, like you do.’

“And looking sad? Not just a pretty face are you?”

“I’m a nothing and a nobody, but I have got eyes.”

“Lots of people have got eyes and they see nothing. You’re not a nobody, Peter. I think you’re a nice guy actually. Riley’s a lucky kid too.”

“Riley is a good guy. He doesn’t need me the same now, he’s got his new brothers.”

“The cave-boys?”

“Jacob and Colin, the ex cave-boys.”

“Fair point. So, do you think you’d have room for me in your life?”

“I’d always have room for you, Ashton.”

“Even if I’m not really Ritchie-Rich?”

“Even if you were the poorest kid in town.”

“I think I am actually.”

To his horror, Ashton found that his eyes were leaking. This was so not cool. Cool kids don’t cry in public. He turned his face away and tried to will himself to bloody stop it. Feeling sorry for himself had never helped before, why would it now?

Maybe it was the occasional sob escaping, something gave him away. Peter knew that he was crying.

He put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Let it out, Ashton. Don’t try to bottle it up, cry it away.”

“Damm, Peter.” He shook him off. “I never cry.”

“Maybe you should. Maybe you need to.”

Ashton looked him in the eye and his face crumpled. “Maybe you’re right.”

He dropped his head and cried. Peter draped an arm around his shaking shoulders.

He turned, clung to Peter and cried over his shoulder. He finally calmed down, pulled away and wiped his eyes.

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yes you should’ve. You needed to.”

“Thanks, Peter. I guess you don’t think I’m Mr. Cool now?”

“I never did. I think you’re a great person, but I never believed the image. That’s not you.”

“You are so right! How come you see what no-one else does?”

“I just see. Maybe because I’m on the outside, looking in.”

“I wish you weren’t.”

“You wish I wasn’t looking?”

“No, I wish you weren’t on the outside. Riley was right; he said that you’re a great kid, and you are.”

“I’m just me – Dorky de Groot.”

“You’re not at all and the next person who says that to me gets a punch in the face!”

“I’d better not say it again then.”

“Shut up, Dork! I didn’t mean you.”

“Going to punch yourself now?”

“No, I’m not. I’m allowed to say that because you’re my friend.”

“Am I, Ashton?”

“You are. Well, if you want to be, you are.”

“Oh, I do. I never thought it would happen, but I’ve always wanted that.”

“Always?”

“Ever since I can remember.”

“Damm, Peter! I wish I knew that years ago. You should’ve told me.”

“I couldn’t. You’re Ashton Woods, I’m just Peter de Groot. I’ve got nothing to offer you.”

“You know what? I’ve got nothing either, nothing but me.”

“I don’t need any more than that. Thank you, My Friend.”

“My friend. I like the sound of that. I’ll be proud to be your friend, Peter, and thank you.”

“Thank you. The sun’s gone down now and it’ll get cold pretty quick. We should be getting back to town now.”

“You’re right, we should. I’m not going home though. They’ll be partying there and I couldn’t stand it. I’ll park-up somewhere for a few hours.”

“You could come and park-up at our house if you like. It’s nothing flash, but we’ve got a big fire, it will be warm.”

“Sounds good to me, thanks. Our house is as flash as and it’s as cold as ice.”

“Really? Don’t you have heating?”

“Well, yeah. Downstairs they do. I mean it’s cold because there’s no love there.”

“There’s plenty of love in my house and more than enough for you too.”

“You mean that, don’t you? Thanks, Friend. Let’s go then.”

“I’ll take the short-cut back through the farms and I’ll meet you there.”

“No. Come with me, please? My car’s back in the car-park, I’ll drive us from there if you like.”

“In the BMW? Hell yes! I like. I’ve never been in a car like that.”

“It’s about time you did then. C’mon, Peter.”

Kaimoana Tales, Dills & Wills 4 (last one)

They woke in the morning and grinned at each other, which was a bit of a tradition by then.

“Good morning, Gorgeous.”

“Hello, Handsome.”

“Funny what a day brings, Wills. I never thought yesterday morning that we’d be waking up together today.’

“No, me neither, and not in Amberley either! I wish yesterday had never happened.”

“Yeah, me too, but it did.”

“It did. Bloody Damian!”

“You’re still angry with him then?”

“I’ll always be pissed at him and his parents too.”

“But not Ashton?”

“No, not Ashton. He’s in the same shit-heap that Damian was.”

“Be thankful for the parents you’ve got.”

“I am, and you should be too. We’ve got a great family.”

“Yeah, we have. Hope they don’t kick us out.”

“Couldn’t see them doing that. I hope not. They must have some ideas about us by now.”

“You think? No-one’s said anything.”

“Good job too. Don’t ask, don’t tell works for me.”

“Me too – for now. Want to have a shower.”

“Together? Great idea! We can use up all the hot water with no mothers yelling at us.”

They weren’t that long in the shower. Neither of them was interested in sex after the hot and heavy night they’d had, and there’s not a lot else to do in there, apart from washing yourself, (or your mate!) They came out, got dressed, stripped the bed and rolled the sheets up for the laundry, and then went out to find something for breakfast.

“Never thought I’d say this, but I could get sick of takeaways.”

“I know what you mean.”

They bought apple pies and OJ, and then walked back to the motel to hand-in the keys and collect the car.

“There’s no hurry to get home, is there Dills?”

“There’s not. We’ve got all day. We can’t leave yet anyway, the garage is not open and I want to get some petrol before we go.”

“Haven’t we got enough to get home?”

“Well, maybe, but I’m not taking Mum’s car back empty, it’d be more than my life’s worth.”

“What are we going to do then? Park outside the garage until it opens?”

“No. Let’s go and have a look at Amberley Beach. I’ve never been down there and always wondered what it’s like. We usually just shoot straight past on the highway.”

“Fine, we’ll go to the beach then. Don’t you know what’s there?”

“No, but we’ll soon find out. There’s some sort of settlement there. The maps show some streets by the beach.”

“Not a city then?”

“Hardly, it’s just little.”

It wasn’t that little. At the end of the straight road from Amberley to the beach there were several streets of small houses and cottages clustered close together, each on a small, flat section.

They were very individual and brightly coloured, but they were all of the same distinctive style of beach-side buildings that could be found in similar settlements all over the country. Oaro was full of them and the older parts of South Bay were the same.

They were small, low to the ground, mostly flat-roofed and built of the cheapest materials. Obviously not for full-time living, these were owner-built weekend cottages and holiday homes. It was easy to tell the few that were permanently occupied, they tended to be larger and their grounds and gardens were better kept. Most places had nothing more than rough lawns, shrubs and trees.

Most of the surrounding, sheltering, trees were the ubiquitous pine trees, they were everywhere.

“They’re American, you know.”

“What are, Wills? The cottages?”

“No, the pine trees. Pinus Radiata. They originally came from the Monterey Peninsular area in California. Apparently, they’re rare there and you’re not allowed to cut them down.”

“You’re not? Just as well that doesn’t apply here. Pine trees are everywhere.”

“They are, they grow up in the snow-grass in the mountains right down to the beaches with their feet in the sea. Nine out of ten trees planted in New Zealand are Pinus Radiata.”

“Really? That’s a lot. Why don’t people plant native trees?”

“Some do, but not a lot. They’re too slow growing and pines are fast and easy. There’s more money in Pinus Radiata; they grow in any sort of ground and it’s only 25 years to maturity. Fast turnaround means more profit.

It’s a soft-wood, useless it’s treated to stop it rotting. Builders call it ‘long grass’. The original tree was a slow-growing hardwood, but ours are about 30 generations of development away from them.

The timber is easy to build with, if it’s treated. It’s light and it doesn’t split. It makes good firewood, when it’s dry, but most of them finish-up getting pulped to make paper. You’ll hardly ever see a plantation in NZ that’s not pines, apart from orchards. The Kaiangaroa Forest, up in the central North Island, is the largest man-made forest in the world.”

“In little New Zealand? Wow. How do you know all this stuff, Wills?”

“I’ve got a head full of useless information. Probably comes from growing up with a teacher for a father.”

“Yeah, probably. Is that what you want to be – a teacher?”

“Maybe. I’m thinking about it. What are you going to do, Dills?”

“I’m going to be a rich and famous rock-star.”

“Yeah, right! Good luck with that. I’ve heard your music.”

“Hey! Some people like my sort of music.”

“You think? I don’t, I think it’s bloody awful. You’re lucky that I love you.”

“I am, very lucky.”

“Yeah, so am I. Don’t worry, Dills. Teachers make pretty good money. I’ll be a teacher and support you while you try to make music.”

“Thanks, I think, but I’d rather be a rock-star and you can be my groupie.”

“I already am! I love you, Dills.”

“Cool. I love you too, bigtime!”

Dylan drove slowly up and down the flat streets. There was nothing but cottages and a few overgrown empty sections. There were no shops, hotels or motels, no parks and not even a community hall. This was obviously a quiet place for family holidays. The boys thought it was all a bit boring really. He stopped the car at the end of one of the sandy tracks going up and over the sand-dunes.

“Let’s go and have a look at the beach.”

“Okay. I’m not swimming though, it’s too damm cold for that.”

“You got that right.”

Over the low sand-dunes, they walked out on to the long, long, gray beach. Wide, flat and sandy, it stretched off in either direction as far as the eye could see, fading into the haze in the distance. It was an overcast day, so the sky was grey and so was the sea, except for the white-capped waves.

“Boring!”

“Yeah. Looks good for surfing though, there’s good waves and no rocks anywhere.”

“Maybe. Do you surf, Dills? I’ve never tried.”

“I surf, sometimes. I’ll have to teach you. There’s some good beaches up north of Kaimoana.”

“Okay, let’s do that, but I’m waiting ‘til the summer. It’s cold here.”

“The sea is always cold, but, yeah, that wind’s got a definite chill in it. Always seems to be windy on beaches around Christchurch.”

“Bummer! I hate cold winds.”

“That’s rich, coming from a Wellington boy.”

“Shut up, Dills. It’s not always windy there. It’s not as bad as people think.”

“Just as well too. Want to go for a walk?”

“Yeah, straight back to the car. I’m friggin’ freezing!”

“Toughen-up, Wills. No wonder they say that youth today are getting soft.”

“I can get hard too. Come back to the car and I’ll show you.”

“Randy little bugger. Do you ever go 5 minutes without thinking about sex?”

“Sometimes, when I’m sleeping.”

“That’s probably the only time too. Let’s go back to the car.”

“Yes!” William took off, running back to the track.

Dylan followed at a slower pace. He stopped for a pee in the bushes, and when he came around a corner, William was standing there facing 2 rough-looking characters who were blocking the track.

One of them leered, “Aren’t you the pretty little thing? What’s the big hurry, Darling?”

“Oh, yeah,” the other one said and held up his tray of cans. “We’re going to party in the dunes. Why don’t you come back there with us?”

“Why don’t you fuck off?” Dylan walked up to them.

“Think you can make us, do you?”

“If I have to, yes.” Dylan stood tall. They looked him up and down, one of them stepped aside.

Dylan took hold of William’s arm. “Come on, Wills.” He led him past them and down to the car.

“Dirty bastards!” William hissed.

“Just keep quiet and keep walking, Kid.”

They got to the car and looked back up the track. The others had gone. Dylan got in. William got in the other side, and then climbed over to sit on him. He snuggled in.

“Thanks, Dills. You’re my hero.”

“Any time, My Love. I’ll avoid a fight if I can, but I’ll fight if I have to. While I’m around, no-one touches you unless you want them to.”

“No-one touches me – no-one but you, always.”

“Always.”

They kissed.

“Maybe I should’ve though, with Damian. He wanted me to love him.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. You can’t think like that. It was not your fault.”

“I can’t help feeling that I should’ve done more for him.”

“Wills, you didn’t know. You’re not a mind-reader. All you knew was what he told you.”

“He told me plenty. I should’ve known.”

“When Brodie came and told us, it was a surprise, wasn’t it?”

“It was a total surprise. No-one expects that.”

“Well, then. You didn’t know.”

“You’re right, I didn’t Thanks, Dills. I really need you, you know. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I hope you never find out.”

“So do I.”

They kissed again.

“Okay, my Beautiful Boy – time we got this show on the road.”

William climbed back into his own seat and they went back to the bigger village on the highway. The Service station was open for business, so they pulled in there to fill the car up. They bought some munchies and cans of coke as well.

Dylan pulled out on to the highway and started towards home.

“Don’t go too fast, Dills.”

“What? Are you worried about my driving?”

“No, your driving’s fine, I just don’t want to go home.”

“Yeah, but we have to. Besides, I’d like to see the family now.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

At Waipara, they passed the turn-off to State Highway 7 – the Lewis Pass road to the West Coast.

“You ever been over there, to the Coast, Dills?”

“No, never. Have you?”

“Nope, but I’d like to. They say it’s very different.”

“We should go and have a look sometime, just you and I.”

“Yeah, let’s do that. How about next weekend?”

“Next weekend? Why not? We could do that, as long as Mum will give us the car, and as long as the funeral and everything’s out of the way by then.”

“Damian’s funeral? Damm. Do you think we should go? I think I’d be sick if I had to watch his parents make a big fuss about him.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that, but I think we should be there. You definitely should, you were his best mate and I should be there to make sure that you’re all right.”

“I’ll be all right if you’re with me. Yes, we’ll go. It’d be good for Ashton to see us there too. He knows that we know what Damian’s life was really like.”

“Good Boy. He could do with friends at the moment. Never thought I’d be saying that about Ashton Woods!”

Over the hills, they came down to the coast at Oaro. There was a blond boy there, hitch-hiking, but he was going the wrong way, so all he got was a friendly wave.

“He’s a dork!”

“He is? Do you know him, Dills?”

“Nope, never seen him before.”

“How do you know he’s a dork then?”

“Because he is – he’s hitching on his own. Only a dork would do that.”

“You think?”

“I do. Who knows who’s going to pick him up? It could be someone like those creeps you ran into this morning. Don’t you ever do that, Wills. If you want to hitch anywhere, I’ll come with you.”

“I love you too. I won’t do it on my own.”

“Good! We’re getting close to home. We’ll be there by lunchtime at this rate. Do you want to stop and park for a while?”

“No, I don’t think so, unless you really want to. I think I want to go home to my family.”

“So do I. We’ll go home then.”

Kaimoana Tales, Dills & Wills 3

It was late afternoon when they arrived; they drove into the center of the city, stopping for take-aways from a Burger King on the way, and arrived at the hospital on the edge of Hagley Park. Dylan found a parking space and left the car. They walked around to the main entrance and Ashton was there, sitting on the steps outside. Red eyes looked up as they approached and Dylan spoke.

“Hey Ashton. How are you?”

“Not good, Dylan. No bloody good at all.”

“How’s Damian?” William asked.

“He’s dead.”

“Dead? No!” He sank down to sit next to him.

“He died half an hour ago. They’re taking him to the morgue. There has to be an autopsy because it was suicide.”

“It wasn’t. It wasn’t fucking suicide – it was murder!”

“It was suicide, he did it himself, everyone saw him do it.”

“Yeah, but why did he do it?”

“I know why he did it. I wish I had the guts to do it myself. Oh, Damian!”

William sat looking at him, his face white, his fists clenched and his mouth shut tight.

Dylan sat down and put an arm around his shoulders. “Wills, don’t.”

“Yeah, I won’t,” he sighed.

He turned, hugged Dylan and cried into his chest. Dylan rubbed his back. The three of them sat in a row, William crying, the other two looking glum. William lifted his face off Dylan and looked at Ashton. He wanted to lash-out, but he couldn’t. Ashton didn’t look like the cool kid now, he looked like a boy grieving for his brother. “I know why too.”

“You do?”

“I know, he showed me, I saw his room. I’m sorry, Ashton, really sorry for him and for you too.”

“Thanks, William, and thanks for coming. You’re a good friend.”

“Damian was my friend. He was my best friend, apart from Dills.”

“And you were his. You were all he had.”

“Damm, I wish . . . I just wish.”

“Yeah, so do I. Wish I had a friend like you.”

“You’ve got hundreds of friends.”

“You think? I don’t see anybody here, do you?”

“No, but it’s a long way to come.”

“You and Dylan came.”

“Well, I had to. Dills came because he brought me here.”

“He’s a good friend too.”

“He is. Dills is the best ever.”

Ashton looked from one to the other. “Yeah, that’s good,” he nodded.

“Is there any chance that we could see Damian?” Dylan asked.

“You can’t now, they’ve taken him away. I suppose that the funeral will be back at home, you might see him then.”

“You think there’ll be a funeral?” William asked.

“I guess so. There’ll have to be, won’t there?”

“Not sure. But then, it’d be a chance for a public show, wouldn’t it? Lots of weeping and wailing and being all sad and everything to make people sorry for you.”

“Probably right. I could see some people getting right into that.”

“Your parents are bastards, Ashton.”

“Yes, they are.”

“I don’t know why you put up with it. Why don’t you walk out on them? I would.”

“I can’t. Don’t think I haven’t thought about it, but I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

“Nowhere at all?”

“Nowhere. Well, except for our grandmother’s and that’d be worse. I’m not going there. One thing I do know, I’m not playing their games anymore – fuck ‘em!”

“Good for you. You’ve got rights, bloody stand up for them. Be strong for Damian, and for yourself too.”

“Yeah, I will, and for Suzanne too. She gets the same crap that we did.”

Dylan nodded. “Now you’re talking, Ashton. Do you know Riley Sullivan’s mother? She’s actually a lawyer, and a good one. She sorted Colin and Jacob’s lives out, maybe she’ll do the same for you. You should go and talk to her, she’ll know what you can do.”

“Thanks, Dylan. I might do that. Do you guys want to come up and see Dad and Suzanne? They’re still up there somewhere.”

“No,” said William. “We’re not. We don’t know your sister, but tell her we’re sorry. You can tell your father to get stuffed. I don’t want to see him. We’re going home; do you want to come with us?”

“No, thanks but I’d better not. We came down in my car, I’ll have to go back with them.”

“If I was you, I’d throw the bloody keys at him and tell him to shove the car.”

“Maybe I will, one day, but not yet. I’ve got to think of Suzanne.”

“Well, okay. That’s what I’d do, but you’re not me.” William got to his feet. “Dills, I want to go home now please.”

“Yeah, we’ll go home. I’m really sorry, Ashton, and if you ever want to talk, we’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Dylan and thank you, William. Umm, tell me something, are you two a couple? I mean, I know that you’re cousins, but is it more than that?”

Dylan and William looked at each other and William grinned. “Oh yes! It’s much more than that.”

“I thought so. Good luck to you. So you weren’t like that with Damian?”

“No, it was never like that. I did love him, but we were just mates.”

“I’m glad you were. Silly little bugger needed a friend.”

“He had me. Didn’t do him a lot of good though, did it?”

“I’m sure it didn’t do him any harm. Shame he never reached out to you.”

Dylan said, “Don’t you make that mistake, Ashton. You’ve got friends, us and others.”

“I won’t. Thanks Guys.”

They all stood, hugged and said goodbye. Ashton went inside, Dylan and William went back to the car.

“Thanks, Wills. You did good and I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. I still want to hit someone, but not Ashton. He’s not the enemy.”

“He’s not. He’s a boy crying for his brother. I hope he sorts his own life out.”

“Yeah, me too. Get us out of here, Dills. I want to go somewhere and fuck.”

“You what? Are you sure about that?”

“Totally sure. I want to love you and I want to feel your life in me. I need it.”

“Oh, my Beautiful Boy! Yes, I think I need that too.”

Dylan drove the car out of the city, turned down a side-road and parked on the bank by the Waimakariri River. William was totally naked and climbing over to the back seat before the car stopped.

“Come on, My Dills. Get your gear off and get over here!”

He wasted no time in doing that. He stripped off in record time and climbed back into his boy’s welcoming arms. There wasn’t a lot of room in the back of the small car, but they found a way and they managed.

William was always an enthusiastic and gleeful lover, but this time it was different. This time he was hungry and desperate, like he needed to confirm the life in himself and his lover.

Dylan was on top, but he didn’t feel at all in control. It was over and done in a short time, but when he came he flopped, drained and exhausted.

William kissed him hard. “Thank you, My Dills. I so needed that and I love you very much..”

“Likewise, My Love.”

They lay quietly, cuddling. William kept an ear against Dylan’s bare chest. “Dills? Know who I’d really like to hit? Damian! I’d punch his lights out if I could. Bloody stupid shit. He let the bastards win.”

“Nobody won, Wills. Everybody lost, especially him.”

“Yeah, I’ll never lose as long as you love me.”

“You’ll never lose then. I’ll always love you.”

“Good! Dylan, I don’t want to go home. Can we get a motel somewhere and spend the night together?”

“Sooner or later, we’re going to have to sleep alone you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but not tonight. Please, Dills?”

“Yes, of course we can. I don’t want to be alone either.”

They went on up the highway as far as Amberley, stopped there and booked into a motel. It was a cheap place, there was only one room in their unit, but it had a big bed and that was all they wanted.

They walked up the road, bought takeaways for dinner and sat and ate them in a small roadside park. While they were there, they both phoned their respective mothers to tell them the news and that they were staying the night in a motel.

They carefully didn’t say where the motel was, because if they knew that they’d come as far as Amberley, the mothers would, for sure, want them to come home. They grinned at each other, across the table, when they both said at the same time, “Yeah, of course I’ll be all right, I’m with Dills.” (“I’m with Wills.”)

The day was getting on, the sun was setting behind the mountains, so they went back to the motel, shut the door, closed the drapes and shut the world out.