Peter & Ashton, 1

(Haven't a clue where this is going - but it's going.)

“Peter, my friend, I’ve made a decision. You’re not going to like this, but I don’t think I can see you again.”

“Not see you? You’re right I don’t like it! Ashton, why? What’ve I done?”

“Nothing! Really, it’s not you. It’s just not going to work with you and I and it’s best if I stay away. I don’t belong in your world.”

“Fucking Bullshit!”

“What? You know, that’s the first time I’ve heard you swear like that.”

“Well I’m swearing now and it won’t be the last time. How can you say that you don’t belong in my world? That is bullshit, that’s the only word for it.”

“It’s not at all, it’s a fact. Keep your voice down, Peter. Mrs. Braidwood’s looking at us.”

“I don’t care. Let her look.”

“If she throws us out of here, I’ll be banned for life. Mrs. Braidwood is your friend, not mine. She’d forgive you anything, but not me. She only puts up with me in her library because I’m here to see you.”

“Forget about the library, that’s not important. All that matters is you and me, nothing else. How can you say you don’t belong in my world? You are my world.”

“No, Peter, I’m not. Look, can we get out of here? We’ll go somewhere and talk.”

Peter looked around the one-room library, it was a busy day, there were at least 6 people there. Mrs. Braidwood, at the desk, and a couple of other ladies were looking at them.

“All right then, we will. We’ll talk and we’ll keep on talking until we sort this out. I love you, Ashton Woods, I’ve wanted you forever and now I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go, so you can get that idea right out of your head.”

“I think we have to let go, but, okay, let’s go and talk it out.”

Peter picked up his books, returned the reference books to the shelves, and said goodbye and thank you to Mrs. Braidwood. He went over to the white-haired and balding man sitting at the computer.

“Father, I have to go with Ashton. I don’t know how long we’ll be, so I’ll see you at home, okay?”

Mr. de Groot looked up and frowned at Ashton. “Why do you have to go with Ashton, Son?”

“There’s something we have to sort out, something really important, so I’ll see you at home later.”

“Very well, you go if you have to. Take care and don’t do anything silly.”

“I won’t, and Ashton won’t either, I’ll make sure of that. How is your problem going here?”

“Good, I think. I’m just waiting for a reply. Once this is settled, it will be all plain sailing.”

“You said that yesterday, Father, and the day before.”

“I did, didn’t I? It will work out, Peter. It’s nothing that you have to worry about and it’s not your problem.”

“I’ve got a problem of my own and I’m going to fix it now.”

He frowned at Ashton, smiled at Peter and replied, “Good luck then. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will. Thank you Father. Good luck to you and I’ll see you at home.”

“The best of luck to you, My Son. Goodbye then.”

Peter turned back to Ashton, nodded at the door, and they left.

Walking out to the car, Ashton said, “You’ve got such a good relationship with your father, and with your mother too, the best I’ve ever seen. Don’t ever lose it.”

“I don’t intend to, Ashton, and I am not losing my relationship with you, that’s the most important one of all.”

“I wish I agreed, but I don’t think I do.”

“You will, My Love. You will.”

They got into the car and buckled up.

“Any suggestions where we should go?”

“I have. Take us up to the cemetery.”

“The cemetery?”

“Yes. It’s quiet there and it’s a good place to think about life.”

“Okay, the cemetery it is then.”

Ashton drove up to the hilltop cemetery, but when he pulled in there, they saw his mother sitting by Damian’s grave. He circled around and drove out again.

“We can’t talk while she’s there. We’ll go down the road a bit.”

He went back to the main road, down the south side of the hill and drove a few kilometers along the coastal highway. He intended stopping at Geese Bay, but there were a couple of cars there and people fishing on the rocks, so he carried on, through the road tunnel and along. He pulled into, and stopped in, the first quiet pull-off they came to, between the road and the rocky beach below. He turned the car off and turned to look at Peter.

“Okay?”

“Not quite.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a quiet place, but we can’t cuddle here. Come over to the back seat.”

“That’s not why we’re here, Peter.”

“That’s what you think! Okay, Ashton, you tell me why we’re here.”

“To talk about us.”

“Damm right, about us. We are a couple, Ashton, a pair. When I gave myself to you, I gave my life. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Oh, Peter! Of course it does, it means a lot, but I think you made a mistake. I’m not the one for you.”

“You’re talking rubbish! Of course you’re the one for me. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. Ever!”

“No, you’re wrong. You can do much better than me.”

“Have you gone mad? There is no-one better than you – not in this town, not in this world! You’re the best there is and I love you, now and always.”

“Oh, Peter. I wish that was true, but it’s not. Look, I had a serious talk with my father this morning.”

“Your father? Is that where this came from? You should know better. Your father is a bitter twisted man and he can’t stand you being happy.”

“Yeah, that’s true but . . .”

“But nothing! That’s all this about. There’s nothing he’d like better than to break us up. I know that and you know it too.”

Peter, don’t. Look, just listen to me, would you? Let me say what I have to and then you’ll know.”

“I know that I love you. Do you love me, Ashton?”

“Totally! Now, be quiet please.”

“All right then, say it, but whatever it is, it doesn’t matter.”

“But it does. Right, first of all, you’ve got a bright and great future ahead of you. Your parents both love you completely and whatever they do, they do it for you.

You’re a bright, well-educated and well-grounded boy. You’re also hard-working, stubborn, patient and determined. You don’t take no for an answer. Whatever you do in life, you’ll do well, I have no doubt about that at all.

You’re also quiet, considerate and a damm nice person. Whether that’s got anything to do with your upbringing, I don’t know – it’s just who you are. You’re also gorgeous, which always makes it easier to get people to like you.”

“That works better for you than for me, obviously.”

“Shush, Peter. We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. We’ll get onto me in a minute.”

“Sounds good to me!” Peter grinned.

“Don’t, please, I’m being serious.”

“Okay, keep talking, I’m listening.”

“Thank you. Anyway, as soon as you’re old enough, the plan is for you to go to university.”

“To do Commerce, yes. I’m going to be an accountant.”

“You are, and you’ll be a good one. Accountants are never without work and they’re well-paid wherever they go. But even that’s not the top of their plans for you.”

“I know the plans, I’ve heard them for years and they’re all part of the Plan. I am to get qualified, take a job somewhere, for the experience, and then start taking on accounts for small businesses.

Once I’ve built up enough work, I’ll go into business for myself, preferably around here. I’ll do the accounts for Father’s business, which hopefully will be up and running by then, and then I will become manager for it and maybe, one day, even own a majority shareholding. That’s the plan anyway.”

“I know it is, your father told me. I’m sure it will all happen for you. You’ll do it and you’ll do it well. That’s your future all planned out.

On the other hand, there’s me. I haven’t got a future.”

“What do you mean? You’ve got a future.”

“Not like yours though. I’ll be lucky to get a labouring job somewhere. I’ll probably finish-up living in a caravan or something.”

“You will not! If I have my way, you’ll be living with me, wherever that is.”

“I can’t do that, Peter. You are headed for the top and I’d only bring you down. I’m not making a career out of living off you, it wouldn’t be right. I can’t and I won’t do it.”

“In that case, my parents will have to find another accountant because it won’t be me. I’m not doing it without you, Ashton. I can’t and I won’t either. If you live in a caravan, I’ll be there with you.”

“You bloody will not! You’re not giving up your future for me.”

“I already have. You are my future, Ashton. What good is money if I’m not happy? I’ll only be happy if I’m with you. I love you, just you and only you, always.”

“Damm, Peter! You’re way too good for me. But, yeah, I love you too.”

He kissed him.

“Okay,” Peter grinned. “Thank you, My Love. Now tell me why you think one-half of this couple has no future, and I’ll tell you that you are wrong.”

“I’m not wrong. Don’t let this get around, but my parents are even worse-off than we thought. They’ve got nothing and there’ll be nothing there for me. They’ve got some huge debts with taxes and overdue business loans, word is starting to get around and they’re under pressure. Or, he is. I don’t think my mother’s even on the same planet since she’s got all religious.”

“Someone said that prayer is the last resort of a scoundrel.”

“Someone wise. Certainly true in her case. Anyway, he’s quietly selling-up all the businesses and stuff and he plans on going back to Oz as soon as he’s got things sorted. He might finish-up back with his mother in the trailer-park. He doesn’t know if my mother will go with him. She’d probably rather be a nun or something.”

“Is it really that bad? I thought that they were rich.”

“They’re not and it is that bad. He said that Suzanne can go with him, if she wants to, but I can’t, I’m not wanted. I’ll be out on my ear with no home, no money and no income. There’ll be no university for me. My education is over and I’ll have to get a job and stand on my own ‘queer feet’.”

“Whoah! Okay, that doesn’t sound good, but it’s not all bad you know.”

“It looks all bad to me.”

“But it’s not! You’ve got ways around it. Maybe they won’t support you, but you’ve got assets – use them.”

“What assets? I don’t see anything.”

“Only because you’re not looking. For a start, you can sell your car. It’s all yours and it’s worth thousands.”

“I was planning on that. I don’t need it, but I have to make sure that they can’t get their hands on the money. I’m still a minor.”

“I doubt if they could. Dianne will know, we’ll ask her. Anyway, you could sell it to me for a dollar. I’ll sell it for what it’s worth and keep the money for you.”

“You would do that? That would work, but that’s all I’ve got.”

“No, it’s not! You’re also good-looking, intelligent, bright and charming. You have charisma. They’re all assets and you can use them. They’ll get you a job anywhere.”

“A basic job, as a shop-worker or something.”

“So? Start at the bottom and work your way up. You won’t get a free ride, but you’re young and fit and you can do it. Of course you can. You can always go back to study later, there’s student loans and things to help people get started. When you’ve got a good qualification, you can pay it back easy.”

“Oh,Peter! You’re great, thanks. My greatest asset is you and you’re right, I can do it.”

“You can, but that’s not all. There’s more yet.”

“More? Like what?”

“Like, say we got out of the car and went for a walk in the valley up in the hills over there, and say I fell over and broke my ankle or something. How would I get back to the car?”

“Well, that’s obvious. I’d help you of course. I’d carry you back if I had to.”

“So you wouldn’t walk away and leave me there?”

“I would not! I couldn’t do that.”

“Then why do you think I’d walk away and leave you?”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“It’s exactly the same thing. If I need help, you’d help me and if you need it, then I’d help you. That’s what being a couple is about. If we are together, then everything we have is ours together.”

“Well, but . . .”

“But nothing! Are we together, Ashton? You said that we will be always.”

Tears ran down Ashton’s face as he sat and looked at him. “I’m not alone,” he whispered.

Peter kissed the tears. “You’ll never be alone. I love you.”

“Peter de Groot, you are absolutely perfect! I love you very much.”

They kissed tenderly.

“Okay,” Peter beamed. “We’re two halves of the one whole. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t forget. Thank you, Peter.”

“Thank you too. Can we go back to town now? I’m hungry, but don’t tell Mother I said that.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. Okay, let’s go home.”

Linc

(Just a short story - written as another experiment - no dialogue!

"Steatopygous" means having protuding buttocks. It's the coolest word & i've been wanting to use it forever. Now we have.

cheers)

Linc was new in town, and he was not happy about it. He told everyone who would listen that he wasn’t, but he had no choice. You don’t when you’re a kid, bloody whanau think they own you.

He wasn’t a kid anyway, and he wished that they’d stop treating him like one. He was 16 years old already! And he was a father. He was not a child.

The baby was nearly 2 years old. He’d been whangaied and was being raised by his grandparents. Linc never had a lot to do with him, but he was his father; it said so on the birth certificate.

They were only 13 years old when his dumb girlfriend got knocked up. He thought the stupid cow was on the pill, she told him she was, but she wasn’t. Obviously. She thought that she was too young to get pregnant. How dumb is that?

Anyway, they got in SO much trouble! Well, she did. Linc, not so much, as long as he stayed away from her family. His father put on a stern face, but really, he didn’t care. Privately, he was quite proud of his son the stud.

That was a first. Usually, he didn’t give a shit about him. They got on okay, as long as Linc stayed out of his face and didn’t get in the way of his hard-drinking life. Suited Linc, he never had a lot of time for his drunken father anyway.

They lived in a gang house and there was usually someone around to feed him. Kids are survivors, they learn how to cope in any environment.

His mother didn’t think so. She came up north for his kuia’s tangi, (grandmother’s funeral), and she was horrified to see how he was living, so she took her first-born home to live with her. He had no choice.

Really though, he wouldn’t admit it, but he was pleased to get out of there. Now that Kuia was dead, he had no safe refuge to turn to when he needed it.

Who knew when he’d see the kid, or its mother, again? It was no great loss. They were never in love or anything, she was just a chick to screw. He’d had several others since her, he didn’t love them either.

He’d never loved anyone, except maybe his Uncle Ricki, and that had turned out all wrong. The bastard had raped him when he was 11.

Linc’s father, and the bros, beat the snot out of Ricki when they found out. They put him the hospital and promised him more when he came out, but they never did. As soon as he could, Ricki ran away from the hospital, and he’d never been heard of since. Who knew where he was?

Pity they never dobbed him in to the cops. At least they would’ve locked him up and everyone knew what happen to Kiddie-fuckers inside.

So, he recovered from the rape, kind of. The worst thing about it was the betrayal. His kind and cuddly uncle had turned into a monster. And it fucking hurt! It felt like he was being ripped in half.

Weird though, until Ricki actually shoved that thing up him, he was enjoying it. It was kind of exciting and naughty. He never told anyone that; he tried not to think about it.

After the rape, his father’s woman of the month felt sorry for him and she took him to bed and fucked him so that he knew he was still a man. That was a bit of all right.

She’d never done it again, but he soon found others who would. He hadn’t been keeping score, but there’d been quite a few. Sometimes the woman was so out of it she didn’t know, or care, who it was fucking her.

He was growing up, taking what he needed, hiding in the shadows when he had to, putting on a staunch face, pretending he was a man, and hiding the frightened little boy inside.

Then, his mother came and took him away. It was a relief really, but he couldn’t tell anyone that.

His mother had grown up in the same culture. She was only 15 when she had him and he was about 4 or 5 when she ran away to escape from it. Kuia had refused to let her take him then, and she’d gone without him.

She’d had several other men since then and she had 2 other boys, his little brothers with a different father. She had no partner now and didn’t want one. Over the last couple of years, she’d cleaned her act up and was now totally drug and alcohol free, except for cigarettes. But, as everyone knows an alcoholic is only one drink away from being a drunk.

So far, she was doing okay. She had a good support system around her and she worked at it. Her life was on-track and she wanted to do the same for him so that he didn’t go down the same path that his parents, and generations before them, had.

He was far from stupid, and he knew that he should be grateful, but it’ not easy for a city boy to be transplanted into a small town. Whatever.

His little brothers were not going to be a problem, he made sure of that. They were only half his age, 6 and 8 years old, and he let them know who was boss. Oddly enough, they took it really well, they liked having a big brother. He’d never been hero-worshipped before. Quite nice really, but he wasn’t telling anyone that either.

Being boys, they were very physical, and they wanted to wrestle, play-fight and cuddle all the time. He had to put a stop to that and keep them at a distance. They were beautiful boys, but they were his brothers and far too young to do what his dick was thinking. He was NOT going there, so he cuffed them and kept them away.

He’d been there for a couple of weeks, settling down and starting to enjoy the peace and quiet when, to his horror, his mother’s sponsor decided that he needed to be in school and not spending his life moping around at home. Interfering old bag!

He fought it, of course. He hadn’t been to school regularly for a couple of years and thought that he was finished with all of that. But, he lost. He had to go to school.

They enrolled him and bought him books, pens, a calculator, a bag and a smart new uniform. He told no-one, but he thought he looked good in the uniform. He liked the long dark-grey trousers that seniors wore.

So, nervous and excited, he went to school and got the shock of his life – he liked it there. It was a small school in a small town, he was the new boy, exotic and exciting, and everyone there was friendly and welcoming – even the teachers! It took less than an hour before he decided that he liked it. He could stare-down any of the boys he’d seen and the girls were lining up to ogle him. Some of them were hot too!

One of the boys was bothering him, a bit. Lance Wilson was a year younger than him, he was in year 11. He was quite a nice-looking kid, but there was something soft and girly about him. He giggled like a girl. He was always smiling and always looking at him. Every time he turned around, he was there, grinning, and with that same hungry look he saw in some of the girls. This Lance kid was weird.

Apart from the weird boy, Linc liked the kids there, especially the girls, they were like fruit ripe for the plucking. He could do all right there. It was an effort not to smile too much. He had a bad-boy image to maintain and a scowl made people back-off and not get too close.

In the afternoon, when school was over, he walked home with a group of kids. Things were looking up, he’d never been popular before, but he could get used to it.

It’s surprisingly easy to get yourself a reputation when you’re new in a small town. Okay, maybe he did over-play it, a bit, but it was what they wanted to believe and it was mostly true. He did grow up in a gang culture and survived it. They didn’t need to know how relieved he was to be away from it all.

Within a couple of days, everyone knew that he was a bad-boy, a big-city hard man washed-up in their quiet town. Quite exciting and fascinating to think how dangerous he could be.

Yeah, that was over the top, it was all a load of rubbish. He was a big softie really, but he wasn’t telling them that. He didn’t mind the image they had of him, he could hide inside it like a snail inside its shell.

The other advantage of the image was the ladies. The girls were falling over themselves in their rush to get at him. This handsome boy, with a hint of danger, was a wild beast that had to be tamed.

He was a handsome boy, despite the scowls. He had a great smile and when he smiled it was like the sun breaking through on a cloudy day. So he scowled at, and frightened off the boys, but he smiled at the girls and melted their hearts.

In the days that followed he dated one girl after another and was never without a companion. Oddly though, he didn’t have sex with them. Well, not many. He knew that he could, he just didn’t want to.

There’s no challenge in chasing star-struck girls who are throwing themselves at you. There was only one girl who he really wanted – the one, of course, that he couldn’t have.

Lyndal Wilson was easily the best-looking girl in the school. Tall, willowy and blonde, she was hot! But, there was a problem, Lyndal was a virgin, no doubt about that. The guys called the Ice Queen and no-one even tried to get in her pants, they knew it was hopeless.

Really though, the Ice queen name didn’t fit her. She was a warm and friendly girl, she just didn’t put out at all. She didn’t come across like she was frigid or anything, she just wasn’t interested.

That was a pity because Linc was interested. Very, very interested. Maybe it was because of the challenge, but she interested him far more than any of the others.

Not only was Lyndal all wholesome and virginal and everything, she lived on a farm, away out of town. One of her parents, usually the mother, drove her to and from school each day. She was rarely seen around town, when she was, there was always a parent with her and her father was a scary man, big, dark and gruff. Linc was rarely intimidated, he’d known plenty of hard men, but this guy was something else, and he guarded his daughter like she as a precious jewel. (Which she was!)

The parents were not around during school hours, but there was a problem there too – her brother always was. Lyndal had a twin brother and they stuck together like they were glued or something. The twin, of course, was the soft and giggly Lance Wilson who was always grinning at him.

It didn’t take long to figure out that he could use that. Lance was not someone he’d normally want to be mates with, but if he was, he’d be able to get closer to the sister, and then who knew what could happen?

That seemed like a plan, so, for the first time ever, he decided to court a boy’s friendship. That shouldn’t be hard to do. Turned out to be even easier than he thought it would.

Waiting to go into class one day, one of the few classes that he didn’t have with his sister, Lance was being hassled by a bunch of bullies. Two of them, working together, knocked him down. One shoved him backwards and the other’s foot flashed out, tripped him and sent the boy, and his arm-load of books, sprawling on the ground. Everyone broke into mocking laughter which was cut off suddenly when Linc stepped in.

He stood between the crying boy and his tormentors and glowered at them. Like every bully everywhere, when faced with a threat, they backed-off in a hurry. Linc helped the kid to his feet, they picked up his scattered books, they went to class together and they were friends from then on. It was that simple.

His plan was working fine. Lance was grateful and Lyndal was too. She liked her brother and anyone who was good to him was okay by her. Their close twosome was now a threesome and they were getting on great.

His only problem now was how to ditch the brother? Maybe if he found him another friend to hang with? Trouble was, Lance only wanted to be with him.

Lance was way too soft and girly, he needed to harden up. Seemed like it was his sister protecting him from the world, not the other way around. Linc told the pair of them that he was going to toughen Lance up. Lyndal thought it was a good idea, Lance giggled and wished him luck.

They went to the movies one night, the 3 of them together. It was a cheap date, he met them there and they all bought their own tickets. He sat between the twins and they had a great time – just good clean fun, nothing romantic happened with the stern parents sitting behind them. Still, he had a good night.

The parents were suspicious of him for a start, but they soon warmed when he was introduced as Lance’s best friend. So that was good.

Lance was telling everyone that Linc was his best friend, which he didn’t mind, but it wasn’t the point of the exercise, was it? Still, whatever got him in with the sister had to be good.

He found that he was liking Lance more and more, he was a nice kid and innocent with it. That was a breath of fresh air in Linc’s dark world. He liked him and was glad to have him for a friend, even without the sister.

Lance was still giggly, smiley and girly, but it didn’t bother him anymore. There was more to him than that. He was warm, caring and attentive and he had a wicked wit. Linc had never laughed so much. He was also very, very bright, but quiet and modest with it. He’d never had a friend like Lance. He wouldn’t last 5 minutes in the world Linc came from, but he liked him.

They came to town one Saturday morning when their mother came in to do her weekly shopping. When they went home, Linc went with them. They spent the day showing around the farm where they’d grown up. It was a whole new world to him, he’d never set foot on a farm before. It was a good day.

He spent the night there, sleeping in the guest room, alone unfortunately, but it was a step forward in his plan.

The following Saturday, Lance came in to spend the day, and the night, with him. Another step forward. One day, with luck, Lyndal might stay as well.

There was a slight problem and Linc almost cancelled, but he decided not to. The thing was, his little brothers usually spent the weekend at their father’s place, sleeping there on Saturday nights. Linc had planned for Lance to have his room and he’d sleep in the brothers’ one. They didn’t have a spare room, he could put up with their smelly room for one night.

But the useless, lazy lump of a father cancelled at the last minute. He’d had a hard week and he was too tired to have them for the weekend. Their mother didn’t mind, she was never happy about them going anyway.

Linc did mind, they were stuffing up his plans, but nobody cared about him. There was no spare bed, Lance would have to come another time.

Then he decided, no, dammit, they weren’t stuffing up his weekend. Lance could come anyway. He’d have to sleep in Linc’s bed and Linc would sleep on the floor. His mother had an old sleeping-bag that he could use.

He was real glad he didn’t cancel. When he arrived with his father, Lance was all excited, like a little kid. He’d never, ever, spent the night away from home on his own before. Linc thought it was cool that he could make the kid so happy.

Mr. Wilson came in to meet Linc’s mother. He was obviously checking them out, but he must’ve been happy because he went off and left his boy there. He’d be back for him, late on Sunday.

They spent the day doing not a lot. The weather had crapped-out and it was cold and wet out there. It stayed that way all day. They just hung around inside. Lance baked a batch of cookies. That was fun – fun eating them.

Linc’s little brothers were being a pain. They hung around like blowflies and wouldn’t leave them alone. So he commandeered the PS3 and took it, and Lance, to his room and locked the door.

They spent the rest of the day, sitting on the floor together, talking and battling on the Playstation. Lance was good at it too, they were evenly matched.

He surprised him in other ways too. He told him things that he didn’t know. Lyndal was not a virgin at all. Lance was but she wasn’t, she’d done it years ago. She had a serious boyfriend and they intended getting married as soon as she turned 16.

Her parents, and his, all knew about it and approved. He was the son of the guy who used to pastor their church. They’d moved away but he was in daily contact with Lyndal on line. Lance liked the boyfriend, Lyndal loved him, so that was cool.

It was not cool at all! That stuffed that plan up then. He was so pissed, he, briefly, thought of telling Lance to go home. He decided against that. He did like the kid even if his sister was not available. They could still be mates.

Lance had a shower before they went to bed, so Linc did too. He didn’t usually. He couldn’t see the point of cleaning-up when he was only going to bed, but, for once, he did. They got some supper, took it to his room, ate it in there, and then got ready for bed.

Lance surprised him again. He’d expected that the kid would sleep in modest pj’s, but he didn’t. He stood, shucked all of his clothes off and slid into bed naked. Apparently he always did. Linc shrugged a whatever, unrolled the sleeping-bag, stripped to his boxers, turned off the light and got into the bag.

What was that line about the best-laid plans of mice and men? It was not going to be a good night. Sleeping on the floor was a dumb idea and he was never going to get comfortable. Who knew that a carpeted floor could be so hard? Also, the sleeping-bag was a cheap and nasty summer-weight one. He was cold!

He tried to be staunch, but it was not going to work. He got out and felt around for his clothes in the dark. At least they’d keep him a bit warmer. Lance sat up and asked him what he was doing? When told that he was bloody freezing, Lance said he could share the bed if he wanted to.

Did he want to? Hell, yes. So he climbed in with him. Lance moved across and left a delicious warm spot for him to lie in. That was much better. Their bodies touched. He was cold and Lance was so warm, he snuggled up against his back and draped an arm across to steal some of his body heat.

He was not into sex with a guy, and never had been, but, apparently, his dick had ideas of its own. It sprung to attention, nestled between the cheeks of Lance’s steatopyogous bum. It felt good in there, all warm and soft yet firm. Weird. It felt like his dick had come home.

Lance pushed back against him and wriggled, which snapped him out of the trance he was drifting into. What was he doing? No way in hell was he interested in sex with a boy! He pulled away but Lance moved back against him and put a hand on his back to pull him into him.

He wriggled again and Linc, with a mouthful of angry abuse and his choicest swearing, let him know that he was NOT interested. He climbed out of the bed and got back into the bag on the floor.

He lay there, fuming, cold and uncomfortable. He knew that he’d hurt his friend, but he didn’t care. The kid was a bloody queer! Then, as he calmed down, he heard Lance crying quietly and he felt bad.

He did care for him, just not like that. That was wrong. But, it felt good. Why was it wrong? It just was, that’s all. He didn’t want to hurt the kid, but he didn’t want to do that. Did he?

Old memories, long forgotten and suppressed memories, came flooding back. Memories of how it was with Ricki before he’d hurt him. They were good times. He used to like the cuddles and the closeness. Was that what Lance wanted with him?

The boy’s crying was cutting him up. He was about to get up and apologise to him when he heard him getting out of bed and searching around for his clothes. When asked what he was doing, Lance told him that he was sorry and that he was going home. He’d walk there.

Now he was really, really sorry for hurting him like he had and he didn’t want him to leave like this. He stood up and stopped him by grabbing and holding him. Lance was sobbing in his arms, so he did something he’d never done before. He kissed him.

Whoah! What was he doing? It wasn’t that bad actually, so he kissed him again.

Damm! He liked this. It didn’t feel wrong at all now; it felt good. He stood quietly trying to sort his swirling emotions.

Lance kissed him and he was surprised – surprised by the joy he felt inside. This was not wrong. His heart knew that this was very, very right.

He wanted this boy, he wanted all of him. He wanted to love and be loved by him. He lowered him back down to the bed and lay down with him.

He kissed him.


The end.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 11

Going over the bridge, William said, “Dills, those two back there, do you think they’re another couple?”

“Looks like it. There’s a lot around.”

“There is. I suppose they all stick together. Almost everyone around here seems to accept gayboys.”

“And why not? That Superboy guy is gay and everybody likes him. I guess if he’s accepted, that makes it easier for everyone else.”

“Yeah, probably. Watch you don’t lose sight of Speed Racer up there.”

“I’m watching him.”

“Anyway, if we do lose him, we’ve just got to watch for the red letterbox-drum, on the left, 25k’s from here. I like this town, Dills.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. It’s the people who make-up a town. Our one is cool too.’

“Yeah, Kaimoana’s all right. It’d be better if we could get rid of those Griffins.”

“It would. I guess every town’s got its share of jerks as well.”

“Love you, Dills.”

“I love you too, Gorgeous Boy.”

Roman behaved himself and they got back to the house with no trouble. The dog was delighted to see them. Christian fed him before doing anything else. The kitchen fire was all-but out, Roman got it going again.

It was cold in the big room, there were no fires going in there and it was too late to bother lighting one. They sat around the kitchen fire, had a drink and talked until they all agreed that it was late enough, and they went to bed. (Not necessarily to sleep!)

It did rain again during the night, quite heavily, but the next day dawned fine and clear. They had toast and micro-waved porridge for breakfast and, after feeding the livestock, drove into town in both cars.

Dylan filled his car in preparation for the trip home, and then followed Roman across town to the racecourse stable where they locked it up and left it. They all got into Roman’s car and he drove north, out of town.

Over the bridge, they went past the cemetery, (“Dead center of Westpoint!”), through Fairfield and out to Waimarie where they turned off and went up, up and up, the long and winding road up the hill to Dennistown.

There was no town up there. There used to be a coal-mining town but it had gone. All that was left was a few relics of the glory days, some sheds and bits and pieces of defunct mining equipment.

However, there was a fantastic view back down the hill to Westpoint, shining in the sunshine beside the wide river. It was almost like looking down from a plane, they were high enough.

Christian said, “It snows up here.”

“It does?”

“It does. That’s why there’s no trees, we’re above the tree-line. On cloudy days, you can’t see your hand in front of your face up here.”

“Nasty.”

“Yeah, it is. That’s why the town died. When transport got better they all moved down to live in town where it’s easier and the miners commuted up here to work.”

William grinned at Dylan. “Cars are good.”

“Definitely! Great view on a day like this though.”

“Yeah, when it’s good, it’s good. We’ll go up to Seddon now.”

They went back down to the main road and carried on, north, through the small mining towns along the narrow strip between the sea and the steep hills.

Seddon was a small town, really small. It was a couple of k’s back up a wide river valley. There was a pub, a church, some widely-scattered houses, and not much else.

Roman said, “This was another mining town. It was quite big once, but now it’s just a shadow of what it was. A lot of it was flattened by the Murchison Earthquake, in 1929. That was the death-knell for the place really.”

William, sitting quietly out of the window, said, “It was named after King Dick, but I don’t think he ever visited it.”

“King Dick?”

“Yeah, Richard John Seddon. Born in England, he was Member of Parliament for the West Coast. He was the longest-serving Prime Minister and the last Premier of New Zealand. His party started Old Age Pensions, which was the beginning of the Welfare State.

He’s the one who first started calling New Zealand, ‘God’s Own Country’, it was his motto.

There’s a statue of him in Wellington, in front of the Parliament Buildings.”

“Oh yeah, a big statue up on a pedestal, with his hand up in the air.”

“That’s the one. I think he’s pointing west. Superboy’s statue, in the Square, does the same thing.”

“He is too! I never thought of that. Superboy’s pointing west in Westpoint.”

“It’s ironic, King Dick was at an Imperial Conference, in Sydney in 1906. Before he got on the boat to come back, he sent a telegram saying that he was returning to God’s Own Country. He took sick and died on the way home, so he did, in a way.”

“Damm, William. You’re bloody amazing! How do you know all this stuff?”

He blushed. “I just know. I read a lot and Dad’s a teacher, he tells me things.”

“He’s done a good job. Do you go to school, Dylan?”

“Yeah, of course I do. Year 12.”

“I don’t know why you bother. You could just stay home and listen to William.”

“I would, if I could.”

“Dills?”

“Wills?”

“Kiss me.”

“Anytime.”

He did.

“All right,” Roman turned the car around. “Back to town. Christian, call Ross and Robert and see if they’re ready to come home yet.”

They went back to Westpoint and had lunch at Billy’s Burgers, because they had to really. The burgers were good, but they were no different to what they’d get anywhere else. It was always good kai – Simply the Best.

Ross and Robert were both ready for home. It would pay to be there when the mother returned. So, Roman drove down to Coach Street, on the way to the North Tiphead, stopped outside Mary Lamb’s small cottage, and tooted.

A dishevelled Robert came out, pulling his clothes together and with his sneakers in one hand.

“Sleep well, Romeo?” Roman grinned.

“Shut up, Dallas.” Robert got in the back seat with Dylan and William. “Home Jeeves, and don’t spare the horses.”

“Yes, Milord.” They went back to the stables.

Roman said, “One of these days, Robert Mathieson, you’re going to get in SO much trouble.”

Christian agreed. “He is, but it’ll probably be one of these nights.”

“You can both shut the fuck up and mind your own. I’ll go home with these two and you can go and get Ross.”

“Okay. At Trina’s, is he?”

“Where else?”

Dylan said, “Do you want me to follow you to get Ross?”

“No, you just hit the road. We’ll catch you before you get there.”

“’Kay, see you there.”

William got in the back-seat and Robert rode up front with Dylan.

“Car’s going okay, is it?”

“Yeah, it is. Better than ever. Thanks for getting your uncles to fix it.”

“No problems, it’s what they do. It took my sister to tell the Dorks how to fix it though. Classic! They’ll never live that down. So, how was your night?”

“It was good. We didn’t do anything, just got the car, went back out and had an early night.”

“Yeah? I had an early night too.”

“I’ll bet you did!”

“Shut up and drive.”

Roman caught up before they were halfway back. He overtook them and was back at home long before they got there. He grinned when they walked into the kitchen.

“Hello, Ladies. Stop for a picnic did you?”

“Blow it out your arse, Dallas,” Robert growled. “It wasn’t a race. One of these days, you’re going to wrap yourself around a tree. Just see that you haven’t got my brother with you when you do.”

“Oooo! Love you too, Grumpy. Didn’t you get a lot of sleep?”

Christian said, “Cool it, Guys. Don’t fight. Who’s up for a swim?”

“Great.”

“Good idea.” Ross and Roman agreed.

Robert did too, “Yeah, okay. It might help keep me awake.”

William asked, “Where do you swim around here?”

Ross replied, “The river is just down the back there. We’ve got our own private swimming hole. It’s choice. There’s a log to dive off and there’s a great rope-swing up in a tree.”

“Sounds like fun, but we didn’t bring any swimming trunks, did we Dills?”

“No. I didn’t think we’d need them.”

Robert said, “Who needs swimming trunks? It’s a private place and there’s just us. We always swim in the nuddie.”

Dylan said, “You all swim in the nude?”

He looked at William “I think we’ll give it a miss.”

“Aww. Come on, Dills. It’ll be fun.’

“No, Wills. You’re not.’

Christian, ever the peacemaker, grinned. “Have to do what you’re told, do you William?”

“I don’t HAVE to, but it pays. Dills worries about me.”

“Dylan loves you.”

“Yeah!” William beamed. “He does, and that’s good. We’re not swimming.”

Roman said, “Come and have a look anyway, so you know what you’re missing. It is a very cool place.”

Everybody, including the dog, went down the tree-lined track to the river. It was a rough track, a car wouldn’t get down there; not even Dylan’s one. However, it wasn’t long and they were soon out in the sunshine on the river-bank.

The swimming-hole was in an old loop where the river had cut in to the steep bank. It was now all-but cut-off from the main flow by a low bank of round stones. A small trickle of water ran down into it and another drained the far end.

“Very nice,” Dylan looked around. “What’s the fishing like?”

Roman said, “It’s a good trout river. Great spot for fly-fishing actually. They say that the whitebait used to come up this far, in the early days, but they don’t now. We get eels in the pool too, it’s best after dark for them.”

“Yeah,” Ross said. “Tip a bottle of blood in the water and they’re everywhere. The buggers are like sharks. We spear them.”

“Do you eat them?”

“Sometimes, but they’re hard to skin. Usually we just kill them.”

“That’s a waste. You can slice them into segments and fry them.”

“Yeah, whatever. Still too much work.”

Completely unabashed, Ross and Robert, Christian and Roman stripped their clothes off and plunged into the clear water. They splashed and played and fought and wrestled in the pool while Dylan and William sat and watched.

William watched them, Dylan was more interested in the river.

“Dills, why can’t we have a swim? That looks like fun.”

“It might be too much fun. We’re not, Wills. We still don’t know these guys that well and I wouldn’t feel safe if you were in there naked.”

“You’re trying to wrap me up in cotton-wool?”

“I would if I could. You’re more than beautiful, William Scott, you’re perfect – a work of art, you’re way too attractive and you have to keep yourself safe.”

“You love me, don’t you, Dills?”

“You know I do.”

“Yeah, I do. I love you too.”

He kissed him.

“Okay, if we’re not swimming, let’s go back to the house and get the fire going.”

“Good idea.” Dylan stood and brushed the sand off his jeans. “We’ll get the room warm. They’re going to be freezing when they get out of there.”

“Yeah,” William stood up. “Their boy-bits will be all shriveled up.”

“Never you mind about other people’s boy-bits. C’mon Wills.”

They went back to the house and lit the kitchen fire. They didn’t know where to find the wood, or the axe, so they used dead and dry fern fronds from the Pungas around the yard outside.

Neither of them had matches or a lighter, of course, so William turned on an element on the electric range and lit a taper of newspaper on that, to kindle the fire. Dylan filled the bucket from the coal-heap out the back.

“Gas heaters are easier and cleaner than fires.”

“They are, but a fire’s nicer to watch. That probably goes back to caveman days.”

“Cavemen didn’t have a lot of gas heaters.”

“Shut up, Wills.”

They sat together, watching the fire. A dark-haired woman, in a smart business suit, walked in the back-door, dropped her bag on the floor and looked at them. “And who would you two be?”

They got to their feet. “I’m Dylan and this is William. We put our car off the road and Robert and the others have been helping us.”

“And so they should. Where are the boys?”

“They’re all swimming in the river. Do you want us to go and get them? And, you must be Mrs. M?”

“Yes, I must be. Don’t worry about them, they can find their own way home. It’s a bit early for swimming, they’re going to be bloody freezing!”

“That’s what we thought, so we came back to get the fire going.”

“That’s good. Is there any coffee in the pot?”

“No, we haven’t been using it.”

“Shame. I’m dying for a coffee. Those bloody little planes have got nothing on them. Put the pot on for me, would you? I’ll go and get changed into something comfortable.

Relax, Boys. No problems. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

She left her laptop on the table, picked up her bag and went to her room.

Dylan filled the coffee pot. “I guess we should be hitting the road soon.”

“Yeah, soon. If we leave it too long we’ll be travelling after dark again and that gets boring.”

Ross and Robert came in and hovered over the fire. “Brr, cold! I see Mum’s home.”

“Yes, we just met her. Where are the other two?”

“They’re busy. They’ll be back when they’re ready. Have we got coffee?”

“It’s coming, I’ve just put the pot on.”

“We should keep you on, you’d make a good wife.”

“Cheeky Bugger!”

“I’m not the bugger, I thought that was you.”

Robert growled, “Knock it off, Ross! We came back because the other two were getting lovey-dovey. Don’t start anything here. Hey, Mum. What did you buy us?”

“The same as usual – absolutely nothing. How are you, Boys? I hope you’ve been behaving?”

“Well I have,” Ross grinned. He got such a dirty look from his brother, he caved immediately. “Yeah, everyone’s behaving.”

Their mother looked at their faces. “I don’t think I want to know. How’s Trina?”

“She’s good. How’s the business?”

“Busier than ever. Who wants coffee?”

They all had drinks and sat around talking. Christian and Roman returned and got their own drinks. Mrs. M opened the laptop to check her emails. She sat quietly reading. After a couple of minutes, she looked up.

“Dylan? You’re from Kaimoana?”

“Yeah, we live in Kaimoana.”

“That’s what I thought. It’s a small world.’

“A small world?”

“Yes. I’m coming over there next week to see some people. Do you know the de Groot brothers?”

“I know Peter de Groot, kind of, but he hasn’t got any brothers. Oh, it must be his cousins, I think their name is de Groot, they’re new in town.”

“Abel and Jan de Groot, master bakers.”

Dylan turned to William, “There’s 3 cousins, right?”

“That’s right, but they wouldn’t be bakers, they’re just kids. I think Peter’s father is a cook or something. Maybe it’s him and the cousins’ father.”

“Could be, I guess.”

Mrs. M said, “Oh well, we’ll find out soon enough. How many have we got for dinner here?”

“Not us,” William replied. “It’s time we were going if we’re going to get home before dark.”

“You’d better go soon then. I could get you something quick and easy. There should be pizzas in the freezer, if the Gannets haven’t cleaned us out.”

“No, really. Thanks, but don’t worry. We’re going home.” Dylan stood up. “Right now, Wills. Let’s go.”

“We’re going to have to talk about who’s boss in this relationship, Dylan James,” William got up.

“Relationship?” said Mrs. M

“That’s right. More bloody gayboys,” Robert said.

“Robert! You know very well that there is nothing wrong with that! What is natural for you may not be for others.”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry Mum, I didn’t mean anything.”

“You’d better not!”

“Mrs. M,” Roman grinned. “Sometimes it’s very obvious whose daughter you are.”

“And don’t you forget it, Roman. Okay, Boys, if you’re going, go. It’s lovely to meet you and anytime you want to come back, you’ll be welcome here.”

“Thanks, Mrs. M. We just might do that sometime. Thanks everyone, you’ve made our visit a good one.”

“Yeah,” said William. “We owe you. Come to Kaimoana.”

“Oh, we will,” the others replied.

They exchanged addresses and numbers and the boys followed them outside to say goodbye.

“Wow!” William exclaimed. “Your mum’s got a new BMW!”

“Yeah, well,” Robert said. “It’s her work-car. Mum says that with all the time she spends on the road, she needs a decent and comfortable car.”

“Fair enough too! Okay, Guys, thanks again and goodbye.”

Roman said, “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You don’t get out that easy.”

“Oh?” Dylan quizzed. “What do you mean?”

“We haven’t had our hugs yet.”

“Hugs?”

“Yes, hugs. Don’t you guys hug your friends? ‘Round here, everyone does it.”

“Well, yeah, I guess we can do that.”

They did.

They got into the car and left with toots and waves. The dumb dog chased them all the way out to the highway.

“Okay, My Wills. Eastward Ho.”

“Yeah, Eastward Ho. It doesn’t work the same, Dills. No-one said, “Go east young man.””

“It’s not the same. Thanks, Wills. It’s been a good weekend.”

“Yeah, it has, thank you. We’ve got some new mates and they’re good guys.”

“They are. We’re coming back here, and soon.”

“Okay, soon. Dills, as long as we’re together, I don’t care where we go or what we do. If we’re together it’s good.”

“It’s very good!”

“Yeah. Stop grinning at me and watch the road. There could be cows out there.”

“I’m watching. I’m watching!”

The sun at their backs, they went home.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 10

They went back to the car, walking around the corner where the art-deco clocktower building was. As they were passing the Westminster Chimes rang out, striking the hour; William looked at his watch.

Roman said, “Take no notice of it, William. It’s wrong as often as not.

Christian agreed, “It is, it’s about time someone did something about it.”

“Yeah, one day.”

Back in the car, they went straight ahead, across the main street to the parallel street behind it, between the backs of the shops and the quiet railway yard.

“Cement silos up there,” Roman nodded. “Obviously.”

“Yes, obviously,” Dylan replied. “What’s that big old building?”

Christian replied, “Impressive, isn’t it? Interesting anyway. That’s the old railway workshops. They shut down years ago and cost the town about 60 jobs, but they did bugger-all anyway. My father did his painting apprenticeship there, and learned to drink.

There’s just a couple of small businesses work out of there now, Billy's Burgers have got some of it, but the rest is empty.”

“It is,” Roman said. “They call it progress. That’s the old Railways’ Goods Sheds over there, they’re mostly empty too. The Railway Preservation Society are trying to get a museum going in there, they’re a bit late.

Railway station up ahead, and that’s all-but empty too. It’s all a bit sad really, this must’ve been a busy area once.”

Christian said, “Watch it, Roman. There’s the Dragon Lady backing out of the Adelphi. Bump into her and we’re in trouble!”

“We won’t do that then!” He swerved to avoid the car coming out into the street.

“The Dragon Lady?” William asked.

“Yeah, Mrs. Reynolds, Superboy’s grandmother. She really shouldn’t be driving, she’s as blind as a bat.”

“They should take her licence off her.”

“Maybe, but who’s game to do that? Everyone just gives her a wide berth, it’s easier.

The back street ended and they went around to and along the Esplanade to the bridge.

“What’s that big patch of jungle there?”

“That’s the Domain. It’s meant to be a park, but it’s just native bush with a few paths cut through it. The whole area was like that before they cleared it for the town. There’s a cool swimming-hole in the river behind it.”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Christian said. “At least you can swim there. Swimming on the beaches is mostly just fighting against the waves.”

“Don’t fight ‘em,” Dylan grinned. “Ride them.”

William said, “Dills surfs. He’s going to teach me.”

“You’re going to teach the teacher?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Good luck with that.”

Over the bridge, they went straight ahead, towards Carvers’ Beach. They passed a little old truck, heading into town with a huge load of straw. Roman tooted the horn and the two in the front smiled and waved. “Hi, Jinks!”

They got a casual wave and no smile in return.

“Jinks?” said William after they’d passed.

“Yeah,” Christian answered. “My boss, Mr. Jenkins. I’ll be shifting that straw next week. It’s for the stables.”

“Is he a good boss? He doesn’t look very happy.”

Roman said, “Jinks is okay. He’s a decent sort of guy, but you’re right, he’s not very happy. His live-in boyfriend walked out on him, years ago, and he’s never got over it, I think he never will. He just lives for his horses now.”

“Damm! The poor guy. Dills, don’t you ever walk out on me.”

“Why would I want to do that? I’m going nowhere, unless you come with me.”

“See that you don’t! I love you, Dills.”

“I love you too, even more.”

“Do not!”

“Do so.”

“Shut up, Dills. Shut up and kiss me.”

He did.

“Oi!” Roman objected. “Behave yourselves in the backseat. We’re giving you a fantastic guided tour here and you’re not paying attention.”

“We are, mostly,” William grinned. “What was that old bridge back there?”

“That was Marvin’s Creek and the old railway bridge. There used to be a railway line from town out to the Cape. They got the stone for the tipheads from the quarries out there.’

“Railways again?” Dylan said. “Are you a fan of railways, Roman?”

“I guess I am. My granddad was once stationmaster for Westpoint, back in the days when they had stationmasters.”

“The good old days?”

“Something like that.”

William said, “One day, today will be our good old days.”

“Very deep, William.”

“I’m not shallow!”

“You’re not, Wills. Kiss me.”

He did.

Christian sighed, “Much more of this and we’ll have our own adult movie in the backseat.”

“You will not!”

“Yeah, shut up, Christian.”

“Sheesh! It’s not me who’s misbehaving.

This is Carvers’ Beach. Go around the back way, Roman, past the Domain.”

They drove slowly through the new, and growing, suburb of Carvers’ Beach. A kids’ rugby game was happening in the Domain, with a crowd of parents and supporters, barracking for and abusing them.

“Rugby!” William snorted. “Stupid game. They should call it ‘Thugby’.”

“Someone’s not a fan,” Roman grinned.

“He’s not,” Dylan agreed. “Wills plays soccer.”

William said, “I do. That’s proper football. Why is this area called Carvers’ Beach, do Ma’s family own it?”

“They used to,” Roman replied. “The Carvers had a farm out here. It fell down because they didn’t look after it. Here’s the cement works coming.”

He drove slowly past the sprawling cement works complex. It was big, dirty and dusty looking. “How do they make cement, William?”

“It’s basically limestone with a bit of coke and gypsum. They crush it and roast it in the coal-fired ovens. All the ingredients are local, except the gypsum, that’s imported from Australia.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wiki.”

“Shut up, Christian.”

The car stopped in the park near the Tavern at the Cape. They all got out and looked down the rugged cliffs to the beach far below them.

William said, “Cape Foulwind was named by Captain Cook. He sailed past on a rough day.”

“He got that right,” Roman nodded.

“He did. They never landed, just sailed past. He called it a ‘land uplifted high’. He thought he saw farms here, with big grassy fields. He got that wrong –it was just the flat Pakihi swamps. Where to now?”

“We go up the track here, through the paddocks, around to the Cape. It’s a bit of a walk, but it’s worth it.”

They walked around the track, passing the small monument commemorating Abel Tasman’s first sighting of New Zealand on the way.

Roman said, “It was a bit presumptuous of the Europeans really.”

“What was?”

“Coming here and claiming that they’d discovered it when there had already been people living here for hundreds of years. It would be the same thing if you guys went home and claimed to have discovered Westpoint.”

“Well we did, in a way. We discovered it for ourselves.”

“Yeah, we did,” Dylan agreed. “And we had native guides too. Thanks for showing us around, guys.”

“No probs. We’ll send you the bill next week.”

“Yeah, do that. Just address it to ‘crime’.”

“To crime?”

“Crime never pays, don’t you know?”

“Ooh, he’s quick!”

“Not just a pretty face, My Wills.”

“Shut it, Dills.”

They stopped in the viewing area, looking down at the seals on the rocks below them. The visitors were not impressed.

“There’s a much bigger colony in Kaimoana, you can drive right up to them and walk in amongst the seals when the tide’s out.”

“Wouldn’t want to get too close those mothers anyway. They’re wild animals and they’ve got big teeth.”

“They have, but they’re okay if you don’t upset them. The main thing is not to get between them and the sea, that really upsets them. What else have you got?”

“We’ll go down to the Bay.”

They went down the short track to the big car-park on the beach. This time they were impressed, especially Dylan.

“Wow! Look at the surf – very cool. This is a great area. We’re camping here next time we come and I’m bringing my board.”

“That’s cool!” William exclaimed. “Look, Dills, penguins!”

“Yeah, Little Blues, waddling up the beach,” Christian said. “They nest up in the grass. You can look but don’t touch. They’re vicious little sods and they can give you a good bite.”

They strolled along the beach for a bit. “That’s the Bayhouse, over there, art gallery and restaurant. Daniel and Tony own it – Superboy’s brothers. They’re in Whozzat too.”

“Is that the Tony with the garage in the main street?”

“That’s the one. He’s a busy boy.”

“He must be. How many brothers has Superboy got anyway?”

“I dunno, heaps. He collects them.”

“Or they adopt him. Ross did years ago, when he was just a kid.”

“Yeah, he did, but Jonathan’s his only real brother by blood. He’s his other half. Time we were getting back into town. We’ll go and see how the car’s going.”

“If it’s going.”

They went back to the car and returned to Westpoint by the other route, through the wind-swept farmland to the Coast Road, and back through the Crossroads, by-passing Carver’s Beach.

They cruised around the back-streets and made their way back to the Carvers’. The party was over, Ma was back inside, but there was still a lot of people around. “There always is.”

Dylan’s car was not there, they’d towed it away.

Christian grinned, “They’ve probably sold it!”

“They wouldn’t, would they?” Dylan worried.

“No, not really. Once they might have, but not now. They’re all reformed, kind of.”

“Yeah,” Roman said. “Kind of. Come and see Ma, she’ll feed us.”

“I was hoping that someone would.”

“Shut up, Wills.”

Ma greeted them, asked how their day was, and told them to help themselves to the food. There was plenty left over, there always was. Meat and fish were in the oven, plates, salads and drinks on the bench.

There was no room on the table. Ma had the Westpoint News, the evening paper, spread out on it, so they went through to the other room and sat on the floor to eat there. There were kids all over the place, but no sign of Jeremy.

William smiled at the young girl who was staring at him.

“Hi. Has Jeremy gone home?”

“No,” she blushed. “Jeremy’s sleeping at his Uncle Jonathan’s tonight. It’s their turn.”

“Their turn?”

Roman said, “They’re moving him around the family. He slept here the other night. A little bit of Jeremy goes a long way.”

“Really? I thought he was a great wee boy.”

“He is, I guess. He just never stops! We’ve got him next week. He is NOT sleeping in our room.”

“The kid’s got a big family.”

“That he has. A great family too.”

The little girl caught William’s eye. “Have you got a girlfriend?”

“No,” he replied. “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“Bugger!” She got up and left the room.

Dylan chortled at the look on William’s face.

“Don’t, Dills.”

Stretch came into the room. “There you are, Boys. Your car’s outside, we fixed it.”

“You did?” Dylan jumped to his feet. “That’s great! Thanks, umm, Stretch. How much do we owe you?”

“Owe? You owe us nothing. Put your money away, Boy.”

“But you guys spent all that time on it, and you had to get a new part. We have to pay you something.”

“No, you don’t. It’s a gift. Don’t insult us by offering money”

“I don’t want to insult you, but it cost you.”

“It didn’t. Laurie had the distributor anyway. Look, Boy, Ma said fix it, so we did. Just say thank you and pass it on when someone else needs a hand, that’s the way it works.”

“Well, I, ah . . . I do thank you. We really appreciate it and we will pass it on, when we can. Thanks.”

“No problems, you’re welcome, Kid.”

Stretch went to the front of the house, Dylan and the others took their empty plates back to the kitchen. Ma looked around.

“Finished already? Lots more there if you want it.”

“No, thanks Mrs. Carver, that was plenty. Thanks for getting the guys to fix the car.”

“Not a problem. Time they did something useful. Throw your plates and stuff in the fire and get yourselves a drink. There’s no coke left, but there’s plenty of OJ, there always is.”

William and Christian took the paper plates and plastic cutlery back and put them in the open fire in the living room, while Dylan and Roman poured OJ into paper cups.

William looked down at the fire. “Everyone has big fires going around here.”

Christian said, “Yeah. Well, it’s a mining town. Coal’s dirt cheap around here, and the wood is free, the beaches are covered in it.”

“That’s one advantage of living around here. I guess water’s cheap too?”

“Water? The only problem with water is getting rid of the damm stuff. Okay, they’re burnt. Come and get a drink.”

Their drinks were waiting for them. Dylan and Roman were outside talking to Butch, so they went out there with them.

“Righto,” Roman said. “Time we were getting home. Bruno must think his throat’s cut by now.”

“Bruno?”

“Mrs. M’s dog. He’s home alone with no-one to feed him.”

“We’d best get going then.”

“My car’s out in the street, back-out there and you can follow me home.”

“Slowly!” Christian demanded

“Well, sort-of slowly.”

“You take it easy, Roman. Their car is not as powerful as ours, you lose them and they’re stuck.”

“No probs. You go with Dylan and William can ride with me.”

“No thanks,” said William. “I’m staying with Dills. I only feel safe with him.”

“Do you think I’m going to ravish you, or something?”

“No, I don’t, but we’ve heard about your driving. I’m staying with Dills.”

“I’m a good driver!” Roman protested.

“You’re a bloody wicked driver,” Christian replied. “Okay, you’re not bad, but you’re too fast. Take it easy, Roman.”

“Yes, Mum,” he sighed.

They said goodbye and thanks again. Ma told Dylan and William to come back anytime. They followed Roman out of town. He went straight along Derby Street, passed the school, passed the hospital, crossed Brigham Street, the main road north out of town, and turned right into Richards Street.

Five blocks down there took them to the main street. The St. John’s Theater was on their left on the corner. There were lights and scaffolding along the big side wall, with two guys up there, painting a mural on the theater.

“Bloody Vandals!” Christian yelled from the car.

The guy on the bottom level looked around and grinned. “Get away back out to the bush, you young hooligans!”

“Hooligans?” Roman stood at his side of the car. “We’re not the ones putting graffiti all over the St. John’s.”

“Graffitti? I’ll have you know, Mr. Dallas, this is going to be a work of art to dazzle the people of Westpoint for generations to come! Well, it will be if Jordie stops dropping bloody paint on me.”

The other guy looked down from his level and grinned. “Suck it up, Jase! Move faster and I’ll miss you. How’s it going, Roman? Mrs. M looking after you?”

“Always, Jordan. Jason looking after you?”

“No, I have to look after him.”

“Nice work if you can get it.”

“Oh, he . . . no! We’re not going there. Get away home.”

“We’re doing that. See you Jason and Jordan.”

“Bye, Roman. Be good to your boy.”

“Always!” He got back in the car, around the corner and headed out of town.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 9

Three of them went into the shop, the others sat at two of the tables.

“Brothers eh?” William grinned at Christian.

“Yeah, shocking isn’t it? You haven’t got any brothers?”

“No. Dills has got one, but I haven’t. Have you got any?”

“I did have, 2 brothers and 2 sisters. They’re all just little and they still live with THEM.”

“Tough.”

“Yeah, tough on the kids.”

“You wouldn’t go back then?”

“Not without Roman.”

The others came back with the drinks and they sat at the two tables, watching the world go by. An older woman, pushing a little girl in a pushchair, came along, stopped and looked at them. It was probably not her kid, she was a bit old. It more likely belonged to the younger, very pregnant, woman with her.

“Hello Boys. Behaving yourselves, are you?”

Roman answered, “Always are, Mrs. Lewis, in public anyway.”

“We won’t ask about the rest then. Since when do you boys mix with movie stars?”

“Movie stars?” Robert said. “Do you mean with Whozzat? We’ve always known them, everyone does.”

“Around here they do, yes. But I wasn’t talking about Whozzat. You are William Scott, aren’t you?”

William blushed and said, “Damm!”

“Busted!” Dylan laughed.

Robert said, “His name’s William, but he’s not a movie star, he’s just a kid.”

“Thank you, Robert. I show the movie, ‘Rocks on the Roof’, to my year 9 classes every year, as a film study. Now we know how much attention Robert paid to it.”

The Westpoint kids all stared at William.

“Well, bugger me!” Christian grinned. “That was you, wasn’t it? That little blond guy in Rocks on the Roof. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It was just one little film and it was years ago,” William blushed. “It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s my Wills!” Dylan beamed proudly.

Mrs. Lewis said, “I’m pleased to see that it never went to your head, William, and it was a big deal. It’s an excellent little film, one of the best to come out of New Zealand in years.

I’m Emily Lewis, I teach music and drama at Westpoint High. Your drama teacher, Geraldine Crase, is an old friend of mine and she told me all about it.”

“Mrs. Crase told everybody, but I didn’t know she told the whole country!”

“Maybe not the whole country, just those she knows, and why not? She was very proud of you, William. I still tell people about Whozzat’s Movie, and that was years ago.”

“So was mine.”

“Not as many as Whozzat’s though.”

“Were you involved in Whozzat’s Movie, Mrs. Lewis?”

“Not really, but our boys, Peter and Jay, are in Whozzat. Crispian filmed and produced it. He used me for a sounding-board, because he had no-one else, but that was all.”

“I had no say at all in my movie. I just did what I was told.”

“Of course you did and you did it well. It’s something to be proud of, William. You haven’t done any acting since?”

“None at all. But we’re going to be in the Operatic Society’s show this year – just as chorus members.”

“That’s important too. I hope you enjoy it.”

“Mum,” the younger woman said, “We’ve got to keep moving. Justine’s getting bored again. If she dirties herself, she’ll stink the car out.”

“We don’t want that! We’d better go. It’s lovely to meet you, William. That will be something to tell my year 9’s. Enjoy Westpoint and don’t let these young hooligans corrupt you. Goodbye, Boys.”

“Bye, Mrs. Lewis.”

“Bye, Claire.”

“Bye Hooligans!”

They walked away. William said, “The little girl is another ‘Justine’. Is she named after Superboy?”

“She is!” said Christian. “Claire is Justin’s best friend, after Billy of course.”

“It’s a small town.”

“It’s a great town.”

Robert said, “Her next baby’s going to be named after Billy.”

“They must be good friends.”

“Simply the best.”

“It’s a shame that we won’t meet Superboy.”

“Yeah, shame. You’re meeting his town anyway.”

Dylan said, “It’s not really his town, is it?”

“Might as well be.”

William finished his drink and put the cup down. “So, Villains, going to corrupt us, are you?”

“No!” Dylan stressed. “They are not.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Behave yourself, Wills, or we’re going straight home.”

“How are you going to do that? The car’s broke and it’s a long walk.”

“We’d get there. I could ring your dad and he’ll come and get us.”

“Okay, I’ll behave. I love you, Dills.”

“I love you too – very much!”

“Oh, aren’t they sweet,” Roman grinned.

“Sickly sweet,” Robert replied. “Maybe we could corrupt you, I have got these.” He pulled some DVD’s out of his pocket.

“What’ve you got there?” Dylan asked suspiciously

“Grown-up movies – adult stuff.”

“Pornos?”

“No, not porn. These are real films, but they’re R18’s, so hopefully they’ve got a story as well as the good stuff.”

“You’ve got R18 movies?” said Ross. “Where did you get them?”

“From the Music Center of course.”

“The Music Center? I didn’t see you at the counter with them and I was there the whole time we were in there.”

“Counter? What counter? I just used the old five-finger discount.”

“You stole them?” William was horrified.

Ross exploded. “Fuck it, Robert! You can’t do that. They belong to Superboy’s other brothers and you’re taking food out of their mouths.”

“Settle down, Brother. Peter and Jay have got lotsa money anyway. No big deal.”

“It is a big deal, and it’s not right! You take them back right now – or else!”

“Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll tell Ma.”

“Fuck! Don’t do that. She’d kill me.”

“Take them back then.”

“I will. I will. I’ll take them back on Monday, I was going to anyway.”

“Why did you nick them?”

“I didn’t nick them, I just borrowed them. They’re all rentals anyway. Mum’s away, Sandie’s away, we’ve got to do something with the weekend. George and Crispian are a couple of old fuddy-duddies, they’d never let us have R18 stuff, so what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“Well . . . all right then. But you bloody take them back and pay the rental fee. I won’t be watching them anyway, I’ve got better things to do.”

“I’ll pay for them – later. You can stick with the Cartoon Network if you want to.”

“Cartoon Network!” Ross huffed. “I’m not coming home, we’re going to a party tonight.”

“A party? Where?”

“At Sammy Swan’s place, just me and Trina and you’re not invited.”

I wouldn’t go anyway. Swan’s a jerk and their parties are boring. You’re welcome to it.”

“Thank you very much.”

“Welcome!”

The twins sealed a truce with grins.

Dylan said, “I don’t think we’ll be watching them either.”

“Don’t be a prude, Dylan. They’re just films. I’ll bet there’s nothing in them that you two haven’t already done.”

“Are they gay films?” William was interested.

“One of them is, they others aren’t. Never know, you might learn something.”

“Doubt it!”

“Yeah, so do I,” Dylan grinned.

“Well then,” Robert shrugged.

“No, we’re not watching.”

“Aww! Dills.”

“No, Wills, we’re not. We could stay in town anyway, there’s a place down by the beach there. The sun’s out, so we could put the tent up.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Christian looked at the sky. “Those clouds are coming over, you’d get wet again. No, come back with us. Robert can watch his filthy movies on his own.”

“I will then,” Robert shrugged. “It might be educational, and, for gayboys, you’re all a pack of old ladies.”

“Shut it, Mathieson,” Roman grinned. “We’ll watch something else and you can take your DVD’s, and your tissues, to your room.”

“Tissues?” said William. “Oh. Those tissues.”

“Shut up, Ladies!”

“What are you lot fighting about now?” Another woman, with a little boy in a stroller, came come along the sidewalk.

They all looked up and Robert beamed, “Mary! Where’ve you been?”

“Never you mind,” she smiled. “I was busy. I had an appointment with Roman’s father actually.”

She grinned and winked at Roman. “How are you, Big Boy?”

“I’m good, Mary. Never been better.”

“That’s good. Still gay?”

“Definitely!”

“Dammit. And who have we got here? A couple of fine-looking boys, especially you, Sweetie, you’re gorgeous!”

Robert said, “They’re William and Dylan and they’re gay too.”

“Oh, what a waste! Robert, Sweetie, we’re going home now. Want to come and mow my lawns for me?”

“Yeah, sure. I can do that.” He jumped to his feet. “See you later, Guys. I may not be home tonight.”

He started walking with her, but stopped and came back. He picked up the DVD’s with a sheepish grin and slid them into his pocket. “Nearly forgot! Be good, Ladies.” He hurried after the honeypot.

“Bloody Idiot!” Ross stood up. “Okay, Guys, I’m gone too. Have a good day.”

Christian said, “Back to just us then. What’re we going to do now?”

“We’ll go out to the Bay,” Roman stood up.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 8

(There ya go - probably full of typos!)

“Oh, oh. Sit up straight, there’s a cop coming.”

“A cop?” Robert looked around. “Oh. It’s only Lucas. Don’t he look nice in his smart new uniform? Hey, Lucas. How’s it going?”

“I’m going okay,” the tall young policeman stood looking up at them. “What are you villains up to? You’d better not break our Grandstand!”

“Who, us? We’re all angels, don’t you know?” Ross grinned.

“Angels? That’s not what your mum says. Who’s this you’ve got here?”

“These are William and Dylan, they’re from Kaimoana.”

“Oh, of course, the stranded travellers. How’s the car going, Boys? Have they fixed it yet?”

“Umm, not yet,” Dylan replied. “But they will. They’re waiting to get a part off some guy who’s out at sea.”

“That’ll be Laurie. He should be back around dinnertime. Okay, I’d better keep moving. See you around, Guys. Be good.”

“We’ll be careful anyway,” Robert grinned.

“Villains!” He walked away.

“It really is a small town,” William said. “How did he know about our car?”

“It’s smaller than you think,” Robert replied. “That’s Lucas, he’s married to our sister, Margaret. She’s the one who told the uncles that your distributor’s missing.”

“He’s a good guy, Lucas,” Ross said. “He’s probably the first cop ever to marry a Carver.”

“They were married before he was a cop.”

“Shut up, Robert. You know what I mean. Here comes Super-breeder.”

“Super-breeder?” William looked at the guy coming around the track with a cloud of kids. He had a baby on his back, two toddlers in a double pushchair and four little kids dancing around him.

“He has been busy. Is he a Carver too?”

“Not quite, but the kids are Jeremy’s other cousins. That’s Jonathan, Superboy’s brother.”

“Is everyone related in this town?”

“Not quite, but we’re working on it. Hey, Jonathan. How are ya?”

“I’m good, Boys. How are you?”

“Oh, we’re fine. How many kids have you got? It looks like you’re going for a record.”

“I hope not! These are not all mine. That one belongs to Dee, hence the curls. I’m just taking the kids for a walk while their mothers are at preggy classes.”

“Preggy classes? I think they already know how to do that.”

“So do I! I told them that, they said rude things to me. Claude and Lana are not pregnant, I think. They’re just there to support Dee.

Justine! Marty! You wait for us!

See you later, Guys. We’ve gotta go.”

Jonathan walked on, William watched him go. “So 6 of those kids are his? He really has been busy.”

“Yeah, he has,” Ross nodded. “But he has got 2 wives.”

“He has? He needs 2, I guess. How many kids has Superboy got?”

“Just the one. They’ve only got Jeremy, but they say that’s enough.”

“A handful, is he?”

“He can be. Bright kids often are.”

Christian said, “I’ll bet William was a handful too, he’s bright.”

“Yeah?” Robert said. “Got any brothers?”

“Nope. But I have got a sister, she’s 15.”

“You’ve got a 15 year old sister? Does she look like you?”

“She doesn’t,” Dylan answered. “Emmy is different to Wills, but she’s a real looker. She’s gorgeous.”

“She is? Ross, I think I know were we’re going for our next holiday!”

“Sounds good,” Ross grinned. “Trina and Sandie will like that, as long as you don’t bring Mary too.”

“Not bloody likely! I’m not sick of living just yet.”

“You want to be careful then, Brother.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

William said, “You seriously should come to Kaimoana sometime, all of you should. Then we could pay you back by showing you around our town. Well, Dills could, he knows it better than I do.”

Dylan agreed. “Yeah, you should do that. We haven’t got a huge house, like you guys have, but we’d fit you in somehow.”

“That’s a plan.” Roman stood up. “But we’re not finished showing you around here yet. Let’s go up the main street.”

Ross and Robert came with them, and they out of the Square, through the arches of the Memorial Gates to the street. There were short blocks in the town. There was a house on the corner, a lawyer’s office, the I Site, tourist information office, and then the Music Center on the corner of the main street.

So, of course, they went in to check-out the music shop.

“This is one of the oldest businesses in the town,” Roman said. “James Hargreaves Williamson started it. My family owned it once, they sold it a few years ago. It’s been here for about a hundred years.”

“A hundred years? Wow. They must have some old music,” William said.

“Maybe there is, out the back somewhere, but the shop’s as up to date as anywhere.”

“It’s hard for small-town businesses to compete with the chain stores.”

“Not around here, it’s not. There are no chain stores in Westpoint.”

“None? We got a few in Kaimoana.”

“Lucky you.”

“Or, not.”

The store sold mostly CD’s and DVD’s, with a range of players and instruments and also computers and accessories. The music was well laid-out by category, but Dylan couldn’t find any he liked.

“That should tell you something, Dills.”

“It does, it tells me that Westpoint people have got poor taste in music.”

“Or, maybe they’ve got good taste.”

“Shut up, Wills.”

“We could ask at the counter. They might have some of your stuff hidden away out of sight somewhere.”

“No, better not. There’s nothing I’m particularly looking for and we don’t know how much the car’s going to cost. We’d better not spend too much.”

“No worries, Dills. I’ll just dip into the savings.”

“You bloody will not! That’s for your education.”

Christian was talking to 2 guys behind the counter. One was an older guy and the other was a kid with long, limp, blond hair. William and Dylan wandered over there.

“Find anything you like?” Christian greeted them.

“No, nothing decent,” Dylan replied.

“From what I hear, that won’t worry William at all. William and Dylan, these are George and Crispian, our best friends.”

“Your best friends? I thought that’d be Ross, Robert and Mrs. M?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s different. We wouldn’t be living out there if it wasn’t for these guys. I don’t know where we’d be.”

“Rescue you, did they?”

“Exactly. The parents found out that I was gay and with Roman, and they kicked me out. More because it was Roman than anything else.”

“They don’t like him?”

“They don’t. Mostly because he’s a Dallas. My father and his hate each other with a passion. Anyway, they showed me the door; I had nothing and didn’t know what I was going to do or where I could go. I had a relative who was thrown out, years ago, because he was gay too. He’s buried in the cemetery, so I went out there to talk to him.

I was sitting, crying, on Jeremy’s grave.”

“Jeremy?”

“Jeremy Carver – the first one. He was a distant cousin, I never knew him but I knew his story. So, I was sitting there bawling, and George and Crispian turned up. They both knew Jeremy and they came to visit his grave.

They found me there, I told them what was wrong and that I was a Carver, so they took me to Ma. She decided that I could go and live with Mrs. M. She’s Ma’s daughter, and her house was getting empty.

Roman got thrown out too. He came and found me and Mrs. M said he could stay as well. So, everything’s sweet now and it’s thanks to these two.”

“More heroes!” said Dylan. “Robert said that everyone’s a hero in Superboy’s town.”

“I don’t know about heroes,” the boy, Crispian, said. “We do what we can. Superboy would do the same.”

“Superboy’s a friend of yours too?”

“Certainly is! I first met him, out there in the cemetery, when we were burying Jeremy. I’ve met some great people in the cemetery.”

He exchanged a smile with George, who said, “I know that I have!”

Dylan looked at them, puzzled. Surely not. These two would be an unlikely combination. He looked at William, who caught his eye and shrugged.

‘It takes all sorts.’

William said, “Did Superboy name young Jeremy after your one?”

Crispian said, “No. There was another Jeremy in between. He was Billy’s cousin and his best friend. He died young – way too young.”

“Yeah, people do,” William said glumly.

Dylan hugged his shoulders. “Don’t go there, Wills.”

Now all the others were looking puzzled. Dylan said, “Wills lost a friend, just a couple of weeks ago. He was 14.”

“Oh, I am sorry,” Crispian said. “That’s hard. Young Jeremy was 14 too. It takes time, but it does get better.”

Ross had joined them; he decided it was time to change the subject. “Crispian, I think that lady over there is looking for help.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks, Ross. See you, Guys.” He went to the other side of the shop.

Ross turned to George. “What are you two doing here, anyway? You’re meant to be retired. Didn’t Crispian sell the shop to Peter and Jay?”

“Yes, he did,” George replied. “But you know Crispian. He can never decide if he wants to be retired or not. Peter and Jay are away tramping, up the Gorge somewhere.”

“Tramping?” Robert walked up. “Stuff that for a joke. Come on, Guys. We’ll go and get a coffee.”

“Good idea,” Dylan agreed. “Bye, George. Nice to meet.”

“Bye, Boys. Behave yourselves.”

“Like you do?” Ross grinned.

“Out!” George grinned and pointed at the door.

They waved to Crispian, went outside and looked up and down the street.

Robert said, “Cool. They’ve got the tables out at the Doo Duck Inn. We’ll go there.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Shut up, Roman.”

Walking down the sidewalk, Dylan said, “Christian, those two back there, George and Crispian, they’re not a couple are they?”

“Yes, they are. They’ve been living together for years.”

“As a couple? Eww!”

Ross and Robert both stopped and looked back. Ross said, “Don’t judge by appearances, My Friend.”

“Yeah,” said Robert. “why ‘eww’?”

“Well, he’s years older than him, isn’t he?”

“So? You’re older than William.”

“Only by 2, nearly 3, years.”

“There’s about the same between them too. Crispian’s the oldest.”

“He is? Damm. I thought he was a kid.”

“Well he’s not. You can never be sure how old someone is these days, especially around here.”

“Found the Fountain of Youth, have they?”

“No, but we’ve got the next best thing. You’ve heard of J &J’s R &R stuff, they make it here. There’s a factory, in the old school building, just around the corner there.”

William said, “Who are the J and J, anyway?”

“Justin and Jonathan.”

“Superboy and his brother own that stuff? Damm! They must be rich. No wonder he can afford all those kids.”

“It probably helps,” Ross agreed. “He never seems to spend money on anything else, just his kids.”

Robert said, “Jonathan’s a good guy. He has to be or his brother will be on his case. Here’s the Doo Duck. Ross, William and Christian, grab those tables. The rest of us will get the drinks.”

“Who said you can give the orders? I’m the oldest you know.”

“By 10 minutes you are. Big deal. Do you want to get the drinks in, Ross?”

“No, I’ll let you do that.”

“Sit down and shut up then.”

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 7

“That’s the school over there.” Christian said. “Want to have a look around?”

William said, “At your school? No thanks.”

Dylan agreed. “We see more than enough of our own one. What else have you got?”

Roman said, “Jump in the car and we’ll go down to the tiphead.”

They got in, William and Dylan in the back and Christian in the front next to Roman. He drove west, along Derby Street. There were houses on the left, for a while. The school was on the right, followed by the racecourse. The Gypsy Fair had arrived in there and they were setting up.

Next, they passed the stables, where Christian worked, and a small sportsfield, (Kilairney Park). They turned left into Coach Street at the end and went past a line of beachside cottages. Most of them were small and old but there were bigger and newer ones amongst them, it was a growing area.

Then, there was a sportsfield set-up for horses, some paddocks with horses in them and the big and smelly fish-processing plant, which Roman’s family owned.

“Really?’

“Yes, really.”

“Your folks rich, Roman?”

“They like to think they are.”

The road went up on to and along the top of the rock-wall between the river, on their left, and the North Beach on their right. He didn’t slow down at all, just drove right up to the end of the road, jammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop.

“Damm, Roman!” Christian complained. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. One of these days the brakes will fail and we’ll sail out to sea.”

“No worries, My Boy,” Roman grinned. “I wouldn’t drown you.”

“You bloody better not!”

“So, Dylan and William, this is the North Tiphead. North Beach is out there, the South Tiphead over there across the river and Carver’s Beach beyond that. Australia is straight ahead of us, somewhere.”

“Very cool,” Dylan replied. “Is this a surfing beach?”

“Sometimes, yeah. It’s the nearest place to town where you can surf, but it’s no good when the river’s in flood. The surf gets full driftwood and trees and stuff. The best surfing is out at the Bay, around the other side of the Cape to the south there. We’ll go and have a look out there later.”

William said, “What’s that big factory place down past Carvers Beach over there?”

Christian said, “That’s the cement works. It’s one of the town’s biggest employers. The coal barge is coming down the river.”

The big, black, box of a barge, looking ridiculously huge behind the small tugboat, passed alongside them, rocking as it left the rivermouth and went out to sea.

“Whoah, that’s a lot of coal,” Dylan commented.

“It is,” William agreed. “A couple more thousand tonnes on its way to Japan. They make all sorts of stuff out of it, steel, plastics, paint and explosives. It’s Westpoint’s biggest export by far. Of course, most of it is railed to Lyttleton to be shipped out of there.”

The two in the front swung around to look at him.

“Damm,” Roman said. “You really are a bright kid, aren’t you? How do you know all that?”

“I just . . . know stuff,” William blushed.

Dylan slid an arm around him and hugged him. “He’s a bright boy, My Wills. He’s gonna be a teacher.”

“He’s going to be a good one,” Christian smiled.

“Okay,” William shrugged. “Dills is going to be a musician, of sorts. What do you guys want to do with your lives?”

“Haven’t a bloody clue,” Roman replied. “We haven’t really thought about it.”

“It’s about time you did.”

“I guess. Something will turn up. I don’t care what I do. As long as I’m with Christian, I’ll be happy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Christian nodded. “We could just build a cabin out in the bush, live there together and be happy for the rest of our lives.”

“Wouldn’t work,” Dylan said. “We know of brothers who tried that, they lived in a cave. They got horribly sick and had to be rescued before they died.”

“Brothers?”

“Yeah, twin brothers, about Ross and Robert’s age.”

“Damm. Were they gay?”

“One is, the other is very not gay.”

“But they stuck together? That’s cool. Are they doing all right now?”

“Oh yes!” William grinned. “They’re doing very all right now. What are those people on the rocks doing with those big net things?”

Roman said, “You don’t know everything then. They’re whitebaiting, or trying to. There’s not many left these days, they’re almost fished-out.”

“Oh yeah, the Whitebait,” William said. “The juvenile form of the Common Galaxias, or Inanga. They lay their eggs in the tidal grasses, the larvae get swept out to sea and they live and grow out there for 6 months before returning to live in freshwater, breed and die. They are almost fished out but it’s more because their habitats are being destroyed by land development. They can sell for up to $200 a kilogram.”

Christian and Roman both said, “Damm!”

“That’s my Boy,” Dylan beamed proudly and hugged him again. “If you want to know anything, ask my Wills.”

“Shut up, Dills. I don’t know everything. I just read.”

“A lot, obviously,” Christian said. “There’s an old story here about a kid who used to swim up and down the river, chasing whitebait into people’s nets. But, that’s all it is, probably, just a story.”

“Yeah, probably,” Roman agreed. “They could do with him here today though.”

They got out of the car to stretch their legs and look around. It was a glorious sunny day and there was not a breath of wind. The landscape shone in the sunshine and everything looked fresh and clean, probably because it’d just had a good wash-down. There were clouds over the hills inland though, and a rainbow arced over the back of the town.

A small fishing boat was coming down the river, heading out to sea, and another one was coming back in. Two jet-skis played in the wake of the outgoing boat. They would not be popular with the whitebaiters.

There were several cars parked on the South Tiphead, looking across at them. Some little kids were paddling in the water on the small beach inside the river-mouth, under the watchful eyes of their parents, and there were more people on the long, gray, beach north of the river. Some of them were building a hut out of driftwood sticks.

The beach stretched away into the haze in the distance. A couple of dirt-bikes were racing along it. Several camper-vans were parked in the grassed area at the back of the beach and two people were fishing, with surf-casting rods, from the low rocks at the front of the tiphead.

It was a busy but laid-back scene – Saturday at the beach with the locals basking in the sunshine, while they had it.

“Very cool beach,” William summed it up.

“It is that,” Christian said. “Cold water though, and no-one’s surfing. There ‘s probably too much debris in the waves.”

“Yeah, most likely,” Roman said. “That’s the beach, one of them anyway. Now you’ve seen it. Let’s go uptown now.”

They got back into the car and retraced the route they’d come from. In Derby Street, they turned right at the second intersection, went along 3 blocks, turned right again and went up and over an embankment. They stopped in a gravelled parking area at the edge of a lagoon.

There were a couple of old sheds with a tangled heap of burnt and rusty roofing iron between them.

“That,” Roman pointed to the mess, “is the remains of the Westpoint Yachting Club’s shed. It burnt down a while ago; it’s about time someone cleaned it up.”

“It’s a sore point with Roman,” Christian said. “His old boat went up in the flames.”

“Yeah,” Roman sighed. “It was just an old dunger and not worth much, but it used to be mine. My Jackass father tried to have me blamed for the fire. We weren’t even in town at the time.”

Dylan said, “There really is not much love lost between you guys and your families, is there?”

“Definitely not! How are your family going to take you two being together?”

“We don’t know, but I hope it’s better than yours.”

“Couldn’t be much worse,” Christian said. “They’re all just jerks anyway. Our new family is much better.”

“You’ve landed on your feet there,” William said.

“We have,” Roman said. “They’re good people; most of the Carvers are. They’re not as rough as they look.

Anyway, to continue our tour – this is the lagoon. The fishermen’s wharves over there, obviously. You can get cheap fish here, under the table. It’s a good safe place for their boats, out of the river because that floods.”

“Biggest river in New Zealand when it’s in flood,” Christian nodded.

“Is it? How do you know that?”

“William told me.”

“Of course he did. You’ll make a good teacher, William. Come and teach in Westpoint, we could use you.

Okay, we’ll go up to the Square now.”

They went back over the embankment and straight ahead, up the street to where it ended at the town’s central park and sportsfield. He turned right, parked next to the kids’ playground and they all got out of the car.

“So, this is the Square,” Christian said as they walked across the playground to the edge of the sealed oval track around the sportsfield. “This is the heart of the town. Everything that happens, happens here.”

“The Gypsy Fair doesn’t,” William grinned.

“Well, if you’re going to be pedantic, almost everything happens here. That’s the skateboard ramps there. They’re not bad, but there’s a better one in Brownsville and Riverston, of all places, has got the best one in the country, so they say.”

“The best one is definitely not ours,” Dylan said. “There’s one on the waterfront in Kaimoana, but it’s crap really.”

“It’s not crap,” William objected. “But it is little; this one’s much bigger. What’s behind the hedge?”

“That’s the outdoor bowling club, green and clubhouse. After that is the pavilion for the Old Boys’ Rugby Football Club. Apparently, they used to have exclusive use of the whole of the Square, but there was some sort of rebellion and the people pulled the fences down and took the square back for everybody. Good job too, this is a great place.

After them is the miner’s memorial – a sunken garden with water features and stuff. There’s a statue of an old-time miner in there but some clowns kept breaking his head off, so now he’s got no head.

Over the far corner is the Westpoint Croquet Club’s greens, the Bandstand and the Grandstand, with the old swimming baths behind it. The next corner is the old War Memorial Gates, with some gardens and a couple of statues. Then, the new toilets, unisex and wheelchair accessible of course, and back to the Skateboard ramps. There used to be a shelter shed and an old jungle-gym there, but they bowled them to build the ramps.

So, that’s the Square, and it’s all one block away from the main street. They have street parties, games and all sorts of events here. It’s a cool place.”

“It is, very cool,” Dylan agreed. “We’ve got nothing like this at home. What’s the track around the football field for?”

“Running,” Roman said. “I think it was built for the Cycle Racing Club, but they’re defunct, so it’s just runners who use the track now. It’s a good place for training. People have been killed running in the streets. There’s talk about putting a rubber surface on it, which would be good. The tar-seal is hard on the feet.”

Christian said, “Ross and Robert are up in the grandstand, let’s go over there.”

The Grandstand was directly across from them but they walked to it by going around the track.

“Why are we going there the long way?” William asked. “We could just walk straight across the field.”

“I suppose you could,” Roman answered. “You just don’t. It’s normal to walk around the track.”

“It’s probably better for the grass or something,” Christian said. “See that statue there – the big white bust? That’s James Hargreaves Williamson, he was one of my grandfathers.”

“Was he? Why did he get a statue?”

“I’m not sure. He was one of the first mayors and he gave the Square to the town. Or, maybe it was because he started the Carvers, we’re all descended from him.”

“We?” said William. “Are you a Carver too, Christian?”

“Yeah, kind-of. My mother was a Carver.”

“Sounds like everybody’s mother was.”

“Well, almost. Roman’s wasn’t. Anyway, Mummy Dearest has nothing to do with them these days. She thinks she’s better than them – she’s not.”

“Definitely not,” Roman agreed.

Dylan said, “What’s the other statue? The small bronze one on the stone plinth?”

“Oh, that’s Superboy,” Christian said. “He hates it. They put it up after he died.”

“He died? I thought you said that he lives in that hotel with Robert’s brother?”

“Yeah, he does. He came back from the dead.”

“Rubbish! Nobody does that.”

“Justin did. Told you he was super.”

“He bloody must be!”

“He didn’t really die,” Roman sighed. “Everybody thought he did. He got swept away in a flood in the river when he was rescuing some kids. They had a funeral service for him and he turned up alive and well the same night.”

“And they put the statue up anyway?”

“Yeah. Well, why not? The money for it had been collected and he is Superboy.”

“Of course he is!” Christian said. He started up the steps into the grandstand where Ross and Robert were sitting at the front, behind the safety fence. “Hey, Robert. What are you doing here, run out of condoms?”

“Shut the fuck up, Squires. None of your business. What are you lot doing here?”

“We’re showing our tourists around the town.”

“Yeah? What do you think of it so far? And don’t say ‘rubbish’.

“It’s not rubbish,” said William “It’s a pretty cool town, for a small town.”

“It is a cool town, and it’s not that small. Kaimoana’s no bigger.”

“Wills used to be a Wellington boy,” Dylan said.

“Wellington? Yeah, well, the less said about that the better.”

“You can shut up too, Robert Mathieson!”

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 6

There was some sort of party going on. A group of adults were sitting around on the wooden deck on the back of the house, and there were kids all over the yard, dozens of them!

Dylan said, “Wow! Are these all Carvers?”

“Probably,” Christian said. “Maybe some of them are just friends, but they’re most likely Carvers. There’s a lot of them.”

“There really is!” William said. “They don’t all live here, do they? I mean, it’s a big house, but it’s not that big.”

“No, they don’t all live here, just some of them. They live all over town. This is Ma’s house, she’s the head of the family. That’s Ma there, they’ve brought her table and chair outside! We’d better go and say hello to her first.”

They got out of the cars and Robert led them over to his grandmother.

“Hello, Robert. Who’ve you got here?” Ma looked up.

A long, skinny, guy sitting on the edge of the deck chortled. “Robert’s brought some fresh meat for us.”

“Shut up, Stretch!” the old lady snapped. “You’re not funny. Go and make yourself useful somewhere. Robert, who are your friends?”

“These are William and Dylan. They put their car off the road last night, near Windy point. Roman pulled it out of the ditch this morning, but it’s not going. We were hoping that someone would have a look at it.”

“You put your car off the road and into a ditch, in the rain? Bugger. Stretch, there’s a job for you. Go and fix the boys’ car.”

“Yeah, okay, Ma. Sure.” Stretch got to his feet. “We’ll have a look. Whose car is it?”

“It’s my mum’s car actually,” Dylan answered.

“You broke your mother’s car? Hoo boy! We’d better fix it then.”

Dylan followed Stretch back to the car and opened it. They stood looking at the engine.

“What’s the party for, Ma?” Robert asked.

“Do we need a reason? No, it’s Butch’s birthday next week. I can’t believe that my baby is 50 already! Make sure you wish your uncle a happy birthday. He’s cooking steaks on the barbeque, down the back.”

She looked down the yard and sighed, “Jeremy! Robert, go and get Jeremy and bring him here. I want to talk to him.

William, is it? Where are you boys from?”

“Umm, we live in Kaimoana, in North Canterbury.”

“By the sea. Yes, I know Kaimoana, nice town. Crappy beaches though, ours are much better. What brings you to Westpoint?”

“Well, Dills did. We just came over for the weekend, to have a look at the Coast.”

“It’ll take you more than a weekend to see all of it, it’s a big area. I’ve lived here all my life and I haven’t seen all the Coast. Still, you’re in the best part of it.”

“Everyone says that,” William grinned.

“Because it’s true, Boy. Ah, Jeremy!”

Robert came back with a tiny blond-haired boy in tow.

The old lady smiled, dotingly, “Jeremy, Sweetheart, you can’t play football with the big boys. They are too rough and you’re too little. You stay away from them.”

“But they need me!” he protested. “I’m not little. I bash them if they rough.”

“I’m sure you would, but you mustn’t do that. Your daddies would not be happy.”

“My daddies are not here. They’ve gone. They won’t know, so I bash them!”

“They’ll bash you back. Don’t fight with your cousins, Jeremy. They are your best friends.”

“They not! My daddies are my best friends.”

“Don’t make them sad then. You’ll make me sad too, and that’s not good.”

“That’s dangerous!”

“Yes, it is,” she laughed. “So don’t do it, you Scamp. This is William. Take him down to the Barbie and tell your Uncle Butch to feed him. Okay?”

“Okay, Ma. You love me, Ma.”

“I do. Now go away, Little Rascal. No fighting and no football.”

The little boy looked William up and down and he grinned and said, “Race ya!” and he took off at full speed, down to the far end of the yard.

Robert sighed, “That’s our Clown Prince. One day he’ll own everything; there’s a scary thought. Come and see Butch.”

Walking down the busy yard, William asked, “Why do you call him a prince? Is he Ma’s favourite?”

“No. Ma doesn’t have favourites, I think. Jeremy is Superboy and Billy’s boy. Everything they’ve got will be his, if they haven’t already given it away.”

“Oh, I see. He’s the heir to Billy’s Burgers then?”

“That and others, yeah, one day.”

“Lucky kid,”

“Yeah, he’s lucky. Hey, Butch. Happy Birthday. Got any food for some starving men?”

“Starving men?” the big guy at the barbeque looked around. “What men?”

“Shut up, Butch. We’re hungry.”

“When aren’t you? Grab some plates and I’ll fill them up. Who’s this then? Got yourself a boyfriend, Robert?”

“Shut up! I have not. This is William and that’s his mate, Dylan, up there at the car. They put it off the road last night, at Windy Point. Roman pulled it out this morning, but now it won’t start. Stretch is having a look at it.”

“Stretch is having a look? Good luck with that. He’s bloody useless.

Here, you boys take over the Barbie and I’ll go and see what’s wrong. Don’t burn the steaks or Ma will kill you.”

He handed over the implements and went up to the car.

“Stretch is useless?” William worried. “I thought you said they’re all good with cars.”

“Well they are! Don’t worry, they’ll fix it. It’s just what they’re like, they all think that they’re the only one who knows anything.”

“Except you.”

“Yeah, except me, I know nothing. I don’t need to, I’ve got uncles. I’ll do this, until I can get out of it. You get some plates, coleslaw and bread, bring them here, I’ll fill them and you can take one up to Dylan. Tell Christian and Roman to come and get their own.”

William got plates for Dylan, himself and Robert, put coleslaw and slices of bread on them and took them to the cook. “What happened to Jeremy? Oh, there he is – playing football again.”

“He what?” Robert looked around. “Oh, Jeremy. So young to die!”

“To die?”

“Yeah. Ma’s on her feet. Watch Ma stop the party.”

“JEREMY CARVER!!!” Ma stood at the front of the deck and roared.

Everyone there, from the adults to the smallest children, froze in their tracks and it was like the crowded yard was full of statues. The little blond-haired boy dropped the ball and meekly walked up to the deck. He stood below his great-grandmother with his head hung down and not looking at her.

Ma said, “Inside.” And she gestured at the wide-open glass door behind her.

Jeremy walked up the steps, went inside, quietly slid the door shut and everyone relaxed, or tried to. Ma huffed back to her chair.

“Whoah. Scary,” William breathed.

“Yeah,” Robert grinned as he put steaks and sausages on the plates. “Let that be a lesson to you, Young Man. Don’t mess with Ma Carver.”

“I won’t,” he agreed. “The poor wee boy.”

“Jeremy? Give him 10 minutes and he’ll be back, charming Ma and laughing like it never happened.”

“Okay. I’ll take this food to Dills.”

By now, there were 4 guys standing around the car, poking and prodding at the innards. Dylan was standing there too, looking hopeless. He didn’t have a clue, but he felt he should be there.

“Hey, Dills. I brought you some food. How’s it going here?”

“Good, I think. What would I know? Yeah, let’s eat.”

They sat down together, on the lawn in front of the deck. Christian and Roman came over.

“Hey! Where’s ours?”

“Robert says, go and get your own. He’s at the barbeque, down the yard there.”

“Of course he is. He won’t admit it, but he likes cooking. C’mon, Christian.”

Another couple, a boy and a girl, stood looking down at them. The boy squatted down.

“Hi. You must be Dylan and William. I’m Ross, Robert’s twin.”

“Hey, Ross. Yeah, we are, I’m William. Nice to meet.”

“Yeah, it is,” Dylan said. “And, I can see you’re twins. Robert’s got red-hair and you’ve got blond, otherwise you look identical.”

“We do,” Ross grinned. “We pinched some of Ma’s hair-dye once and dyed each other’s hair black – confused the hell out of everybody. How’s the car going?”

“It’s not, but there’s plenty of guys trying.”

“Yeah, they’re all triers. Maybe I can do something, that’d annoy them. Laters, Guys.”

He stood and joined the group at the car. His girl went down to the barbeque, William and Dylan sat eating and were soon joined by Christian, Roman and Robert, all with heaped plates and plastic cutlery.

A young woman walking past, with a red-haired baby on her hip, stopped. She put the baby down next to William and smiled, “Watch Carl for a minute for me.”

She joined the group of guys looking into the car. “Where’s the distributor?”

“Sheesh, Margaret!” Butch said. “What would you know about cars?”

“I know they need a distributor. Where is it?”

“Well, it’s . . . umm . . . damm! Where’s the distributor?”

“Dumb men,” Margaret came back and picked up her baby. “You’ve lost your distributor, Boys. Once they find another one, you’ll be back in business.”

“Really?” Dylan stood up. “Thanks.”

“No problems. You want anything done around here, ask a woman. The blokes are all useless!” She went up on to the deck and disappeared inside.

There was a lot of talking around the car and some were on their cells. Ross came back and sat next to his brother. “Problem solved. As soon as they find one, they’ll be right. Where’s Trina?”

“She got volunteered to take over the Barbie. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.” Ross jumped up and headed down the yard.

“Ah. It must be love,” Roman grinned.

“Well he loves his food, not sure about the girlfriend.”

“Okay,” Butch came over. “There’s good news and there’s bad news. Laurie’s got a distributor, he’s been wrecking a Toyota, but he’s out at sea and won’t be back until about 6 tonight.”

Robert said, “Can’t we just go and get it?”

“No, we can’t. He’s got his shed locked up as tight as a drum.”

“So?”

“So he said that if anyone breaks in there he’ll friggin’ shoot them. He’s sick of having his gear ripped off and his tools taken. No, he’s being cranky, so we’d better wait.”

Roman said, “We could go back and search around where they crashed. We might find the original one.”

“Then again, you might not. It could be anywhere between there and here and if it hit the road it’s broken. No, it’s best if you just wait. We’ll fix your car by tonight, meantime, go and have a look around the town.”

“Thanks, Butch. We’ll do that. Thanks for all your help. We really appreciate it.”

“No problem, Kid. Our pleasure. Go and enjoy Westpoint.” He went inside to clean up.

Ross and his girl came back with drinks for everyone – coke of course.

“Okay, we’re out of here, Ross. Dad wants you.”

“Oh? Am I in trouble?”

“Not yet. No, he wants a hand with his truck.”

“Okay, sure. Gotta keep him sweet. See you later, Guys. Be good, Robert.”

“Have to, don’t I? Sandie’s away for the weekend.”

“I know. Don’t go near Mary Lamb’s place. Sandy would kill you.”

“Probably. I’ll be good.”

“You’ll probably be good?”

“Shove it, Ross.”

Ross and Trina walked away, hand in hand.

“Mary had a little lamb?” William grinned.

“She sure did,” said Roman. “Mary had a little lamb called Robert. Sore point. Change the subject. Is there anywhere in Westpoint that you want to go?”

“No. We don’t know the place at all. Any suggestions?”

“Not really. What say we just get in the car and cruise around? We’ll be your guides for the day.”

Dylan said, “That sounds great, thanks.”

“No probs. It’ll be something to do and it’ll be fun.”

Robert stood up. “You can count me out; I’ve got something I’ve got to do. I might catch up with you later. Don’t go home without me.”

Christian looked up at him. “What’ve you got to do, Robert?”

“I, umm . . . never you mind. Later.” He walked away.

Christian and Roman looked at each other and shook their heads.

“The boy’s an idiot!”

“He is. He’s thinking with his dick again.”

“As usual. Someone should tell Ma.”

“Someone’s not going to. Mind your own, Christian.”

“Why’s this Mary Lamb so bad?” Dylan queried.

“She’s the town bike. She’s nearly old enough to be his mother and she likes young boys – really likes them.”

“Eww!”

“Yeah, eww. Well, Robert’s busy for an hour or two. Want to go?”

“Will the car be all right here?”

“Safer than Fort Knox. Come on then.”

Roman had already put his car out in the street, so they said goodbye and thanks to Ma, (Jeremy was sitting in the chair with her), and they walked out to the street.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 5

While they were busy, Dylan and William had a good look around the car. There were a few small scratches around the front – no big deal. A can of spray paint would fix that. One small dent, but no other apparent damage anywhere. They were lucky. Dylan might even survive to drive another day.

Back inside, Robert made them another drink. William said, “Do you want us to strip the sheets off the bed?”

Robert said, “Why? Did you piss the bed?”

“No, we did not! And nothing else either.”

“Nothing? You must’ve been tired. No, leave the bed. You might want to come back and sleep again tonight.”

“Could we? That might be good, but we were planning on going down to Brownsville today.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Roman came in. “Brownsville’s a crap town. Stay in Westpoint, you can’t see it all in one day.”

“Dead right!” Robert agreed. “Stay here and have a rest. You can go to Brownsville some other time.”

“Yeah, we’ll do that,” Dylan nodded. “We’ll stay around here. Thanks, Guys.”

“No probs. It’s going to be a good day, the sun will be out soon and there’s nowhere like the Coast on a fine day.”

William looked doubtfully at the gray sky outside. “How do you know it’ll be sunny? It doesn’t look like it.”

“It will,” Christian said. “Everyone’s an expert on the weather around here. Besides, Robbie, on the radio, said that it will be and he’d know. The weather forecast is never wrong.”

“Yeah, right,” the others chuckled. “The weather forecast is as reliable as a two-dollar watch.”

Dylan said, “It’s the same at home. They just keep saying that it’s going to rain, until it does, and then they say it’s going to be fine.”

“Has your town got its own radio?”

“No, but we can get Christchurch stations, and I think there’s a repeater.”

“Good for you. We can’t get Christchurch stations here, too many mountains in the way.”

“Who’d want to anyway?” Robert said. “West FM’s as good as any of them.”

“Yeah,” Christian agreed. “And they’ve got the Seeker.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” Roman grinned. “I could get worried this crush of yours. Just as well the Seeker never goes anywhere.”

“Why doesn’t he?” William asked.

“Don’t know. He’s on the radio, at school or at home. That’s about it really. The Seeker’s like Superman, his alter-ego is a nerd.”

“Has Superboy got an alter-ego?”

“No, Justin’s always super. Okay, if everyone’s finished here, we’ll go to town.”

They covered the fire, closed the house up, (but didn’t lock it), and got into the cars. Robert rode with Roman. Christian sat next to Dylan and William had the backseat, because he was the smallest and they had far too much junk in there.

“You okay there, William?” Christian looked back.

“Yeah, I’m fine. There’s enough room for me.”

“Just enough. You guys have got so much stuff! Were you planning on staying a month?”

“No,” Dylan replied. “Just two nights. I was a boy scout, I like to be prepared.”

“Weren’t prepared for a cow on the road though, were you?”

“Well, no. No-one expects a cow on the road.”

“Like the Spanish Inquisition then.”

“The Spanish Inquisition?”

“Yeah. No-one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition. Look it up on Youtube, Monty Python and the Spanish Inquisition. Very funny.”

There was just enough room in the wide backyard to turn the cars in a circle, one towing the other. They crawled out to the highway, turned right and headed west, to Westpoint.

Dylan had expected that it would be a slow trip, but it wasn’t. It was a good road, there still wasn’t much traffic around, and they travelled at normal speed, maybe even faster than usual.

“It’s weird, travelling like this with no engine noise.”

“It is,” William agreed. “It’s very quiet. Funny how much noise the tyres make though. I thought we’d be going slower than this.”

“I was thinking the same thing. It’s okay, but he’s not wasting any time, is he?”

“That’s Roman for you,” Christian said. “Roman’s the best guy and he is a good driver, but he thinks he’s bombproof. This is slow for him. I blame his parents.”

“His parents?”

“Yeah, it’s the way he was raised. Roman’s family think that they’re better than anyone else and normal rules don’t apply to them.”

“We’ve got people like that in Kaimoana too,’ William grumbled.

“Yeah, Damian’s family,” Dylan said. “They’re finding out they’re not though, aren’t they? Dianne Sullivan’s getting stuck into them.”

“She is, and bloody good thing too. I hate those people!”

“Let it go, Wills.”

“Umm, yeah,” Christian changed the subject. “Here’s the Crossroads. Only about 5k to go now. That’s the road that takes you down the Coast to Brownsville.”

“Wills knows that. He reads maps.”

“Shut up, Dills! At least I read.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“There’s Westpoint,” Christian pointed ahead. “Best town in the country.”

“Well, maybe one of them. And there’s the sea. It’s the Tasman Sea on the west, isn’t it? We’re on the Pacific on the east coast. New Zealand’s not big, is it? You can drive right across it in a few hours.”

“If you don’t run into any cows, yeah. Some people run it. They have a race every year, the Coast to Coast, from Kumara Beach to Sumner Beach, in Christchurch – running, biking and kayaking. Most people take two days, but some do it in one. Roman says he’s going to do it next year. He’ll be doing it on his own.”

“Not for you, Christian?”

“Definitely not. Cars are good.”

“They are, when they’re going.”

“And, here we go. Down the hill, past Lover’s Lane, over the bridge and we’ll be in Westpoint.”

“It’s looking good. Good that the sun came out. That’s a big river.”

“It’s big. You should see it when it’s in flood!”

William spoke-up from the backseat. “It’s the 5th biggest river in the country, but when it’s in flood, it’s the biggest by far.”

“Is it? I didn’t know that and I’ve lived here all my life. How do you know that?”

“Wills knows everything,” Dylan nodded. “He’s got a computer for a brain and he’s a bright boy, my Wills. He’s educating me.”

“He must be bright. You’re older than him, aren’t you?”

“Only on the outside,” William grinned.

“Yeah,” Dylan grinned back. “That’s probably true too.”

“Okay,” Christian grinned as well. “Carver’s Beach is out that way. That’s a suburb, with the airport, golf links and a really cool beach. And, here we are. Slow down, Roman. Dammit!”

They crossed the wide bridge over the placid river. On the left, they could see all the way down to the sea. After the tangled banks of willows on the riverbank, was the long line of old wooden wharves with a couple of old cranes reaching for the sky.

A cement-company boat was tied up at the silos and a huge coal-barge further along. Down off the bridge, a sweeping corner took them over the railway line and around into the main street. Then Roman slowed down, right down.

He had to because they’d caught up to the rear-end of a long line of brightly-coloured house-trucks, buses, trailers and caravans.

“Hey! Very cool,” Christian said. “The Gypsy Fair’s in town!”

“The Gypsy Fair?” Dylan said. “They come to Kaimoana too, about once a year. They parade around the town, and then they set-up at the race-course for a couple of days.”

“That’s what they do here too,” Christian replied. “They camp at our race-course too, Pattinson Park. That’s just down the road from Ma’s place. I work at the race-course, I’ve got an after-school job there.”

“Yeah? Doing what?”

“Shovelling shit, mostly. I clean the stables. Roman helps me, but he doesn’t get paid, he just does it for love.”

“Ain’t love grand?”

“It surely is!”

William said, “Dills, would you shovel shit for me?”

“You know I would.”

Christian continued, “I love the Gypsy Fair. I don’t think I’m too keen on this though.”

“You’re not too keen on what?”

“It looks like we’re joining the parade. Trust Roman! He couldn’t resist that. Oh, well. Smile and wave at the locals, Guys.”

Music playing, horns blaring, flags and banners waving, the line of vehicles started moving down the street. Roman drove slowly along behind them. The big house-truck just ahead of them had a sun-deck on the roof and there was a gaudily-dressed, teenage boy sitting on a chair up there.

At least, they thought it was a boy, it was hard to tell, it might easily have been a girl. He, (She? It?), had very long black hair and was wearing a long-sleeved yellow shirt, open down the front and knotted at the waist, a red and gold scarf and, very, tight and brief blue shorts. He had bare feet and his long and slender, tanned and golden, legs were propped up on the railing around the sun-deck.

“Whoah!” said William. “What is that up there?”

“Probably one of their whores,” Christian replied. “They’ve always got a few – boys as well as girls.”

“Oh?” Dylan queried. “And you know this how? Customer, are you?”

“Shut up! I am not. I just hear the talk around the stables.”

“Yeah, sure. We’ll believe you.”

“Well you’d better – it’s true.”

“Okay then. Wills, you stop looking. You’re too young for that sort of thing.”

“That’s not what you said this morning, Dills.”

“Shut up, Wills,” Dylan blushed while the others laughed.

“Damm, Roman,” Christian complained.

“What’s he done now?”

“That’s the last street where you can turn off to avoid the busy area, So we’re going to do the whole length of the main street. Smile and wave.

Oh, priceless! There’s Roman’s grandmother. The snobby old witch hates me. Give her a big cheesy grin.”

The houses and motels ended and they started passing shops and offices. Most of them were old, but well-kept, and had wide sheltering verandahs over the sidewalks.

“St. John’s theatre there, our movie theatre. Some of Whozzat’s Movie was filmed there. Roman and I were both there, but we weren’t together. It was years ago and we were just kids. Have you seen Whozzat’s Movie?”

“”I don’t think so,” William replied. “Whozzat were a group weren’t they? A New Zealand band.”

“They were a Westpoint group. They still are but they’re mostly retired now. Most of them still live here in Westpoint. You should watch it sometime, there’s lots of good shots of Westpoint in there.

See that garage there? That’s Tony Duncan’s. He’s the singer in Whozzat.”

Dylan said, “Of course you know Whozzat, Wills. They did the theme song for Billy’s Burgers adverts – Simply the Best.”

“Oh yeah,” William grinned. “That’s whose Whozzat are.”

“There’s Billy’s Burgers, on the left there,” Christian said. “There’s another one, in Derby Street near the schools, but that was the original – the first Billy’s Burgers ever.”

“The first ever?” said Dylan. “Not very big, is it?”

“Well, no. It’s not a very big town. They’ve got a couple of factories around town too. There’s the Adelphi hotel, that’s where Superboy and Billy live, with their kid.’

“They’ve got a hotel as well?”

“It’s not theirs, they just live there. Superboy’s grandparents own it.

There’s my mother. Hello, Mummy Dearest! Cheesy grins, Guys. She hates us too.”

“You don’t get on with your families?”

“Not at all. They don’t want to know us. No great loss, we never did get on much anyway. ‘Bye, Mummy Dearest.”

“Is she a snob too?”

“No, just a nasty drunk.”

It took a long time, but they reached the end of the long street. At least they got a good look at the business area of the town. The house-trucks etc. were going around the block to go back for a second time, but Roman, (finally!), left them and carried on up to Derby Street and the Carver’s house.

He turned in off the street and down the drive to the back of the house.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint

“You’ve got your own chooks here?” Dylan asked.

“Yes, dozens of them. They roam around everywhere and sometimes the eggs are old when we find them. There’s no way of telling until you crack them open.”

“Nice suprises then?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Christian and Roman went out and returned with Robert and plates of eggs & chips for everyone.”

“Here you go. Hot, fast and easy – like me! Eat it before it’s cold.”

And, they did. There was no conversation while the meals were demolished. Roman took the empty plates away and they sat back with their drinks.

“So,” Robert began. “How did you put your car off the road and where did it happen?”

“We had a nut behind the steering wheel,” William grinned.

“Shut it, Wills. We did not! We were coming around that place called Windy Point and a gust of wind caught the car. I was fighting to control it and there was a bloody great cow on the road! I braked and swerved to miss it, skidded off the road, into the scrub and into a ditch, and here we are. Damm. I hope it wasn’t your cow? It took off like greased lightning.”

“Yeah,” William agreed. It’s a wonder it didn’t jump over the moon. It’s probably in Westpoint by now.”

“No, it’s not ours. We haven’t got any cows, just chooks, ducks, goats and pigs. It’s probably from Van der Geest’s, down the road a bit. Their fences are pretty shoddy. Long way from home though.”

“Yeah? So are we.”

“Where are you from?”

“Kaimoana. Heard of it?”

“Course. Little town up the east coast – whales, seals, fish and stuff.”

“That’s us. It’s a pretty cool town.”

“Yeah? So’s Westpoint”

They sat around talking. Christian flicked the radio on.

“What’s on the news?”

“Probably just more car crashes.”

The track playing finished and the announcer came on.

“Oh, yeah! Way cool. Local music for local people. That was for Bruce who’s got a huge crush on Loretta, but that’s a secret, so don’t tell anyone. You’re tuned to the Seeker, on West FM, the Voice of the Coast. Go Westpoint. Now, it’s news time.”

“The Seeker is the voice of the Coast?” William nodded at the radio.

“No, West FM is the Voice of the Coast,” Christian replied. “The Seeker is the new early-night DJ, Conrad Keenan. He’s really cool.”

“And Christian’s got a huge crush on him,” Roman grinned.

“Shut up, Roman! I have not. I just think he’s cool. How many teens have got their own radio show?”

“Not a lot. Probably just the one’s who’ve got an uncle who owns the station.”

“Robbie’s got nothing to do with it. Anyway, the Seeker’s way better than he ever was.”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember when Robbie was a kid, he’s been there forever. And, you have got a crush.”

“I’ll crush you!”

“Anytime, Kid.”

Robert frowned. “Behave yourselves! We’ve got company here.”

“Yes, Mum. Sorry, Mum.”

“Shove it, Dallas.”

“Eww!”

“Behave. If you guys are finished there, come and I’ll show you where you’re sleeping. Bug’s room is right next to the toilet, so that’s handy. Do you want some boxers, or are you happy to sleep naked?”

“We don’t need boxers, we always sleep in the buff,” William replied.

“Yeah? I’ll bet you do. Come on.”

“Hey, Guys,” Roman said. “Before you go, do you want to phone your parents and tell them what’s happened?”

“Hell no,” Dylan replied. “They’re not expecting to hear from us and what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“Yeah,” William agreed. “We’re not ringing them until we know what’s going on. They’d only worry and Dills’ mother would have all night to think up a list of punishments for him. It’s her car y’know.”

“You’re going to be in trouble?”

“Majorly! With a bit of luck she might throw me out and I’ll go and live with Aunt Sarah.”

“Aunt Sarah?”

“Yeah, Wills’ mum.”

“I don’t think you’d mind that a bit.”

“He wouldn’t!” William grinned. “And neither would I.”

“Oh well. Get some sleep, and then we’ll go and see what we can do in the morning. With a bit of luck, I might be able to pull you out with my car.”

“It’d be great if it’s that easy. Thanks, Guys. G’night and we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay. Not too early, the first one up has to light the kitchen fire.”

“And it’s never you, Roman Dallas.”

“Not often. I don’t see you rushing out to do it either, Mr. Mathieson.”

“Shut up. Goodnight.”

“’Nite all.”

Christian and Roman went to their room in the small cottage across the backyard.

Robert said, “If you need me, I’ll be in my room, over there in that cottage.”

“So, no-one’s sleeping in the house? You didn’t lock the doors.”

“Mum sleeps in the house, but she’s not here. We never lock anything, there’s no need. No-one’s going to break into a Carver house, unless they’re sick of living.”

William said, “A Carver house? I thought you said your name was Mathieson?”

“Yeah, it is, but we’re still Carvers. Mum was a Carver and Ma Carver is our gran. Nobody, but nobody, messes with Ma. She’s a scary lady and she’s got her own army. Toilet’s in there and you’re sleeping in here, off the back verandah. If you’re up first in the morning, help yourself to coffee, or whatever, but you’ve got to light the fire. See you in the morning.”

“Yeah, g’night, Robert and thanks again. You’re a lifesaver and our hero.”

“Pah!” he said, walking away. “Everyone’s a hero in Superboy’s town.”

“Superboy’s town?” William mused. “He must be something else, this Superboy. Shame we’re not going to meet him.”

“Yeah, shame. Boo-hoo. Come on, Wills. Let’s go to bed.”

There was no sex that night, they just got into bed, cuddled-up together and went to sleep. The next day started with a bang though. Dylan woke in the morning to find his hard dick in William’s mouth and the most beautiful boy in the world going down on him.

He said nothing, just responded with a grunt and, very soon, let go. A grinning William crawled up and kissed him, and then kept going up until he presented his dick to Dylan’s welcoming mouth. Dylan’s hands slid around the boy’s beautiful body as he returned the favour. William was soon doing all the work though. When he was drained as well, he came back down and they kissed again.

“Good morning, My Dills.”

“Good morning, Gorgeous, and, yeah, so far it’s very good.”

“Plenty more where that came from! Come and have a coffee and we’ll find our clothes.”

They got out of bed, wrapped in the blankets and went to the kitchen. The open fire was blazing merrily, but there was no-one there. Dylan switched on the electric kettle to make 2 instant coffees while William went back to the other room next to the toilet out the back.

It was, as he suspected, the laundry and the clothes dryer was in there. He recovered their clothes and took them to the kitchen.

He and Dylan both dressed quickly and they were sitting drinking the coffee when Robert came stumbling in. He went straight to the bench and picked up the coffee pot.

“Damm! This thing’s empty.”

“Good morning to you,” Dylan grinned. “We didn’t use the percolator, I just made instant coffees.”

“Better than nothing, I s’pose.”

Robert made himself an instant coffee and stood by the fire to drink it. He drained the cup, and then said, “Yeah, good morning. Good you got the fire going.”

“It wasn’t us,” William said. “It was already going when we came in.”

“It was? I thought I heard a car.”

He looked out of the window, and then took out his cell, tapped-out a number and held it to his ear. After a minute, he closed the phone and returned it to his pocket.

“No reply, so they’re not heading into town. They must’ve gone the other way – up to where your car is. We’ll just have to wait and see. I’ll make us a proper coffee. I don’t eat breakfast, do you want anything?”

William said, “No breakfast? Oh well, we’ll survive, I guess.”

“Not keen are you? Have a look in the fridge. Make yourself a sandwich or something.”

“Cool. Thanks, I will.”

“Wills will,” Dylan said. “Sorry about this. He’s always hungry. Claims he’s growing.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t look like it. It’s okay, there’s plenty there. I’m always hungry too, just not in the mornings.”

William found cold, sliced, roast beef in the fridge, so he made sandwiches for himself and Dylan. Robert didn’t want any, coffee was quite enough. They were sitting at the table, eating, when a car pulled-up outside. Robert stood up and looked out of the window.

“It’s Christian and Roman,” he said. “They’ve got a surprise for you.”

“They have?” William stood and looked out. “Dills, they’ve got the car! Very cool. That’s great!”

William rushed out of the door, closely followed by the others. Roman was in his own car and had towed Dylan’s one, steered by Christian. They stood next to the cars, grinning proudly.

“Good morning, Guys,” Christian beamed. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, very well,” Dylan grinned back. “Wow, Guys! This is great. We never expected this. Thanks!”

Roman said, “No problems, Mate. We never expected it either. We just went out to find it and see what we’d need. The rain’s stopped and it looked easy enough, so we slung a rope on it and the sucker popped right out of there. No trouble at all.”

“Yeah,’ Christian agreed. “It’s only a little car, Roman’s one moved it easy. Doesn’t seem to be much damage. You were lucky.”

“They were,” Roman said. “If you had’ve hit that tree, it would’ve been a different story – you just missed it. We probably could’ve driven it back, but we didn’t have the keys. Have you got them?”

“Yeah, I have.” Dylan pulled the keys from his pocket. “I don’t remember taking them. Force of habit I guess.”

“Phaw!” Robert huffed. “You don’t need keys to start a car. Why didn’t you hot-wire it?”

“Spoken like a true Carver,” Roman replied. “We wouldn’t know how to hot-wire a car.”

“It’s easy. I’ll show you sometime. Dylan, why don’t you get in and try it?”

“Yeah, no trouble.”

He got into the driver’s seat and tried the car. And tried, and tried – it wasn’t happening. He gave up before he flattened the battery, popped the hood and got out again. They all stood around the engine, looking at it cluelessly. There was nothing obviously wrong, no obvious damage, it just wasn’t going.

“Robert?” They all looked to him. “Any ideas?”

“Not a bloody clue,” he shrugged. “Sorry, but I’m probably the only Carver who knows nothing about cars.”

Dylan said, “Oh well, can’t win them all. I’ll ring the AA and get someone to come out and have a look.”

“No, stuff that. That’ll cost you money,” Robert said. “I want to go to town anyway. We’ll all go. Roman can tow you in and we’ll go to Ma’s. There’ll be someone there who can fix it. They’re all good with cars, except me.”

“That’s a plan,” Roman agreed. “We’re going to town too. We’ll clean-up, have something to eat, and then we’ll go and see the Carvers.”

“Brilliant! Thanks. You’re lifesavers.”

“Yeah well. You have to really. It’s good to help.”

(Actually, no-one had any intentions of going into town, it was just easier to pretend that they did.)

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 3

"Si hoc legere scis, nimiam eruditionem habes" - Anybody? Lloyd?


A dog immediately started barking loudly. Someone yelled at it.

“Shut the fuck up, Bruno! Dumb dog! We can hear a knock too. Some bloody watch-dog you are! Get out of here!”

The door opened and a tall, skinny, red-haired boy looked out. “Hello!” he snapped.

“Whoah,” William said. “Sorry to disturb you. We’ve had a bit of trouble - put the car off the road and into a ditch. Can we please use your phone to call for help?”

“The phone? You’re off the road? Look, I’m sorry. The dumb dog upsets me. Come on in out of the rain.”

“Dylan said, “Do you think we should? We’re awfully wet.”

“And getting wetter. Come inside where it’s warm.”

They stepped into the warm kitchen. The boy closed the door and grinned at the pair of them standing there, dripping water and embarrassed.

“Sorry,” Dylan said. “I did tell you that we’re wet.”

“Of course you’re bloody wet. It’s not a problem. I don’t think you’re going to flood us out.”

“Robert? Who’ve you got here?” Another boy came through from the next room.

“Well I don’t know. Just a couple of strangers who’ve run off the road and want to use the phone.”

“A couple of very wet strangers! Are you hurt, Guys? Is anyone else with you?”

“No, there’s just us and we’re fine. Maybe a bit shaken up.” Dylan replied.

“Of course you are. You picked a bugger of a night to do it!”

“We weren’t planning on it,” William said.

“Of course you weren’t. Look, come and sit by the fire in the big room and Ill get you some towels.”

“We don’t want to be a bother,” Dylan said.

“It’s not a bother. The fire’s going and you’re cold and wet. Come and sit by it. Robert, could you go and get Roman? I think he’s out in the workshop.”

“He will be. He lives in the bloody workshop. I’m not going out in the rain. I’ll call him on his cell.”

“You’ve got cell-phone coverage here?” William said. “We tried just up the road and there wasn’t any.”

“No? Well there is here. Just as well too. You guys go and dry off and I’ll make some tea.”

Dylan said, “Tea? Not for me, thanks. I’m a coffee drinker.”

“Tonight you’ll have tea, it’s medicinal, hot and sweet, it’s good for the nerves. Everyone knows that.”

“Okay. Maybe just one then.”

“Good thinking,” said the other boy. “Come through here.”

They followed him through to the other room. ‘Big’ did not even begin to describe it. This room was humungous! It even had two fireplaces.

“Wait there, by the open-fire, and I’ll get some towels.”

He went back to the kitchen and returned with a handful of towels. He handed them one each, telling them to dry their heads, and spread a couple on the couch facing the fire.

“There you go. Now you can sit down without getting Mrs. M’s couch wet. My name’s Christian, what’s yours?”

“I’m William and this is Dylan.”

“William and Dylan. Are you brothers, or what?”

“No, we’re just mates. We are cousins, but mostly we’re friends.”

“Mostly? Yeah, Robert’s our friend too, sometimes.”

“I heard that, Squires!” Robert called from the kitchen.

“Suck it up, Mathieson!” Christian replied with a grin.

Another boy, ‘tall, dark and handsome’, came into the room.

“What’ve you got here, Christian? Strangers in the night, is it?”

“Something like that, yeah. Guys, this is my mate, Roman. Roman, these are William and Dylan. They just turned up at the door; they’ve put their car off the road.”

“You’ve had an accident? Are you hurt?”

“No, we’re fine,” William replied. “We’re just wet and stranded. We’ll call a tow-truck, and then we’ll be on our way.”

“I don’t like your chances.” Robert came in with a big teapot and a bottle of milk. “If you’re off the road, you’re not blocking it. There’s only 2 tow-trucks in Westpoint and I can’t see them coming out on a night like this.”

“Too true,” Roman nodded. “You’re probably going to have to wait until the morning.”

Dylan said, “Damm. Oh well, I guess we can go back and sleep in the car.”

“In the rain? I thought you said it was in a ditch?”

“Yeah, it is, but it’s upright and not broken or anything, just stuck.”

Christian said, “You’re not sleeping in your car. You can stay here with us. We’ve got 14 bedrooms and just the 3 of us at home.”

“Fourteen bedrooms! Have you really got that many?”

“Yes, really. Eight in the house and six in the sleep-outs. We had a big family,” Robert grinned.

“You must’ve!” William exclaimed.

“Yeah. Not that many, but we had a lot. Most of them have left home now. There’s just Mum, Ross and I, and these 2 refugees left. Ross is my twin, he’s in town for the night. He’s meant to be at Ma’s, but he’s more likely at his girlfriend’s. Mum’s away working, she won’t be back until Sunday.”

“So there’s just you three here then. Where’s your father?”

“In the cemetery, pushing up the daisies. He died, years ago, and left Mum with 8 kids.”

“That must’ve been tough on her.”

“Yeah, it was. But she came from a big family too; they helped. Our grandmother lives in Westpoint and there’s heaps of uncles and aunties and stuff.”

“Stuff is good,” William grinned. “How far is it to Westpoint? We were hoping to get there tonight.”

“Well, you won’t be. It’s 25k’s, not that far – Superboy runs out here sometimes.”

“Superboy?”

“Yeah, our brother. He lives in town with our brother, Billy. I’ll get the mugs and stuff and we’ll have that tea.”

Robert went out, and returned with the mugs. William and Dylan sat on the towels on the couch and watched as he poured the drinks, shovelling plenty of sugar into them. Dylan shuddered, which wasn’t hard to do, he was still shivering anyway.

Roman said, “Actually, I’ve got a car; I could run you into Westpoint. Is anyone expecting you there?”

“No, we don’t know anyone there,” Dylan replied.

William said, “We’ve got a tent, but that won’t be happening. It’s too wet for that. We’ll find a motel somewhere.”

“No, stuff that,” Christian said. “Stay here with us. You’re here now anyway.”

“Well, yeah, thanks,” Dylan replied. “It’s good to be out of that rain.”

They sat and drank the tea. It was sickly-sweet, but it was hot and that was good.

“Okay,” Roman said. “You stay here with us and tomorrow, in the daylight, we’ll see what we can do about your car. It’ll be all right there for the night, won’t it?”

“Guess so. It’s not going anywhere.”

Christian said, “That’s a plan then. You two are still shivering. Finish your drinks and you can get in the shower. That’ll warm you up. Leave your sneakers here, by the fire, and I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer.”

“That’ll work,” Roman agreed. “I’ll get some blankets and you can wrap-up in them. Have you eaten?”

William said, “Not for a couple of hours!”

“Time you did then. Robert?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll rustle up some food – something hot.”

“Sounds great. Thanks. We can pay you.”

“There’s no need for that. Rescuing refugees is what we do here, isn’t it, Guys?”

“Right!” Christian and Roman agreed. “And you do it well.”

“You two were refugees?”

“Yeah, we were. Our parents threw us out, Mrs. M took us in, so we live here now.”

“That was good of her,” William said. “Why did your parents throw you out?”

Roman said, “Because we’re gay – gay and together.”

“You two are together? So are we.”

“Damm!” Roberts said. “More gayboys. I’m always surrounded by them. Well, you’ll only need one bedroom then. You can sleep in Bugs’ room. That’s already seen plenty of action.”

“Bugs’ room?”

“Yeah, Bugs. He’s our other gay brother, we’ve got heaps of them. Him and his partner are away at ‘varsity, flatting together of course.”

Roman said, “That will save on the hot water too. It’s a big old shower so you can both get in there together. You’ve must’ve done that before.”

“Yes, we have,” Dylan replied. “Guys, we’re grateful for your help and everything and we are gay, but we’re together and we don’t play around with anyone else.”

“Good job too,” Roman replied. “Because we don’t either. Christian would kill me!”

“Yes he would,” Christian agreed. “Okay, come and I’ll show you where the shower is.”

They had a quick shower, which was great. There’s no better way to warm up. After that, they went back to the fire, wrapped in blankets, sat on the couch and talked and drank more tea.

William was quiet as he sat studying Robert. Robert finally had to ask, “Something wrong?”

“I was just thinking. You’re a local, Westpoint’s the home of Billy’s Burgers, isn’t it? Are you related? You look like their logo.”

“He does!” Dylan agreed. “I thought you looked sort of familiar. It’s not you, is it?”

“No, it’s not me, but that’s good spotting. The logo is a cartoon of Billy, he’s my brother.”

“Billy is your brother? Wow! You must be sweet for burgers.”

“Yeah, sweet – sometimes. Sometimes he’s as tight as a fish’s bum.”

“Billy is not!” Christian protested. “He’s a good guy, Billy. He and Superboy both are. They do a lot of good for a lot of people.”

“Yeah, okay, they do. He’s still just my brother though. They both are.”

“Damm,” Dylan said. “I wish I had a brother who had a million burger bars.”

“They haven’t got a million of them, yet. But they’re working on it, or, Mum is anyway.”

“Your mum is working on it?”

“Yeah, she works for them. She the General Manager, or whatever. That’s why she’s away now. She’s up in Auckland, on business again.

Actually, they’ve got so many businesses around Auckland, Mum reckons that they should move the Head Office and distribution center up there. But Superboy says no, it stays in Westpoint.”

“So, is this Superboy the real boss?”

“Kind of, yeah. He’s Billy’s partner.”

“He’s gay too, is he?”

“Only with Billy. They’re a couple, have been for years.”

“Good for them. Why do you call him Superboy?”

“Because he is. He’s super and he’s a boy, kind of. You won’t see them around, they’re away on holiday again. I think they’re in America.”

“They are,” said Roman. “They’re running in the Boston Marathon. Superboy could win it too, easy, but he won’t because he won’t run away from Billy.”

“Sounds like they’re a good couple.”

“Oh they are!” Christian said. “They’re an inspiration to us all. Robert, are you going to feed us, or what?”

Robert stood up. “Yeah, I am; I was just waiting for the fryer to warm up. Eggs and chips okay with everybody?”

“Sounds good,” said Dylan. “Unless you want to do burgers?”

“Not in this house! I don’t do burgers; I’m not Billy.”

“You’re pretty super though.

“Shut up, Roman.”

Christian and Roman both went with Robert to the kitchen, leaving William and Dylan in front of the fire.

“You okay, Wills?”

“Oh, yes. Very okay. You?”

“I’m good. Very comfy. These are good guys.”

“They are. You couldn’t have picked a better door to knock on.”

“There wasn’t a lot to choose from, but, yeah. We struck it lucky, I think.”

“We did! Certainly beats putting up a tent in the rain.”

“You can say that again.”

“Beats putting up a tent in the rain.”

“Shut up, Dork! Wills, you keep that blanket wrapped tightly around you.”

“Why? No-one’s going to try anything. Christian and Roman are a couple and Robert’s straight.”

“Gorgeous Boy, the way you look is enough to make any guy think twice.”

“It is not.”

“It is too!”

“I love you, Dills.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

“Bloody do!”

“Bloody don’t!”

“Mum! The children are fighting.” Roman came back and stood in front of the fire, facing them. “And what are you two squabbling about?”

Dylan said, “Not a lot. Just who loves who the most.”

“Yeah. And it’s me,” William grinned.

“Not!”

“Is too!”

“Ah,” Roman grinned. “Ain’t love grand? Kicking me out was the best thing my dumbass parents ever did. Now I get to live with my Boy, full-time.”

“You wouldn’t go back then?”

“Not without Christian.”

“Very cool. We used to live together full-time too.”

“You used to, but not now?”

“No, not now. Wills’ parents moved out, to their new house, so he had to go with them.”

“You lived together and his parents were there too?”

“Yeah, and my parents. We’re cousins. Wills’ father is my mum’s brother.”

“I see, I think. So you’re like ‘kissing cousins’ then?”

“Oh yah!” William grinned. “Very like. One day we’ll live together again, just not yet. For now, we have to grab all the time we can get.”

“Like this weekend?”

“Exactly. It started off bad, but it’s getting better.”

“That’s good. You’ve come to the right place.”

Dylan said, “We were just saying that. Thanks for letting us stay.”

“No problem. Stay as long as you like. We know what it’s like to be wandering around with no place to go. I don’t know what we would’ve done if Mrs. M hadn’t taken us in.”

“She sounds like a good lady.”

“She is, she’s the best.”

William said, “She must be pretty cool, having gayboys living in her house. And she’s got gay sons too?”

“She has. Well, 2 out of 5 of them. Of course, the first one to come out was Billy, and he’s with Superboy. Any mother would be glad for her boy to be with Superboy, she’d be mad not to.”

“Because he’s rich?”

“No, because he’s super. Superboy’s not rich, I think. He’s got some money but he works for it. They both do. They were still at school when they got together.”

“Yeah? So were we – we’re still there.”

“We are too, so far.”

Christian came in with a big plate of bread and butter, the tomato sauce, (Watties’ of course), and a handful of cutlery for everyone.

“You guys want more tea, or should we have OJ or coke?”

“Coke!” Dylan stressed. “Definitely coke, thanks.”

“No probs, we’ve got plenty. Roman, coke or Billy’s OJ?”

“Thanks, I’ll have OJ.”

“Of course you will.” He returned to the kitchen.

“Billy’s OJ?” William queried.

“The orange juice that they sell in Billy’s burgers, honey-sweetened and carbonated. They make it in Westpoint and we get it for free.”

“Must be nice being related to Billy’s Burgers.”

“I guess it is. We’re not really, but it’s close.”

Christian came back with the bottles of drink and glasses. “Robert’s bloody disgusting!”

“Why, what’s he done?”

“He cracked an egg, there was a chicken in it and he’s deep-frying it.”

“He’s disgusting.”

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 2

They were soon out into a wide valley and they could see the lights of some widely-scattered farms. They had pine trees around them, naturally.

The next place they came to was Springs Junction, where a road branched off to Murchison and Nelson. There were a few big buildings there, a service station and a shop, and a lot of smaller buildings – houses and holiday homes.

“Holiday homes? In the mountains?”

“Yeah. Well, near the mountains. Some people like the high country for tramping, climbing, skiing, shooting and stuff.”

“And freezing their butts off in the snow and ice. Not for me, thanks.”

“No, nor me. I’d rather be down by the beaches, it’s warmer there.”

“It is. Dunno why you like the beach, you don’t swim much and you don’t surf.”

“I swim, when it’s warm, and I’m going to surf, you’re going to teach me.”

“Oh yeah!”

They left Springs Junction and its valley and the road started climbing up again.

“Hey! I thought it was all downhill from the top of the pass?”

“Mostly downhill. We have to go up the Rahu Saddle – not as high as the pass, but we’ve got to go up and over it. Then it’s downhill.”

“Mostly.”

“Yeah, mostly. This is the last big hill though.”

“It is? How far have we got to go?”

“A hundred and something kilometers. Still too far to walk, but we’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

“The sooner the better.”

“Yep.”

“Try the radio again, Wills. We might get something now.”

They didn’t.

“Oh well. More show tunes?”

“Yep.”

There were more kilometers and kilometers of wilderness and nothingness, broken only by the occasional farm. Then, they came to Riverston, which was a fair-sized town, probably nearly as big as Kaimoana, but more concentrated in its river valley. They saw no chain stores there, apart from a Billy’s Burgers.

“Are we not stopping here to eat?”

“No, we’re not. Only an hour to go now and we’ll be there. Then we’ll stop and eat.”

“I can’t wait! Drive faster, Dills. I’m starving.”

“You always are.”

“Told you, I’m growing.”

“You’re gonna be huge!”

“Shut up, Dills.”

A couple of kilometers past Riverston, there was a big old cemetery on the side of the main road and next to the railway line. William went very quiet.

“Wills? You’re thinking about Damian, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sighed. “Bloody Damian! You think that place has got any stories like his?”

“Probably. Every town has its tragedies.”

“Our one did.”

“Yeah, it did. Love you, Wills.”

“Thanks. I love you too.”

They went down the Inakoina Valley, farms on both sides of them, through Isherwood, a tiny town, and soon into the Lower Bulls River Gorge. They were back in wilderness again – just the road and the river, with the railway line over the far side of it, and high bush-clad hills on either side.

The bush was no longer the mountain beeches, this was the dense and tangled West Coast rain-forest. There was hardly any other traffic on the road, it was very quiet for a Friday evening. At least it had stopped raining – for now.

The boys were both quiet as they went along. They were sick of travelling, they were tired and almost mesmerized by the trees flicking past in the headlights. They would both be glad when they came to the journey’s end.

It ended sooner than they expected.

At the lower end of the gorge, a road sign warned that they were approaching ‘Windy Point’, and it had a cartoon of a car being lifted sideways by a gust of wind. They weren’t kidding because that is almost exactly what happened.

Dylan came around the corner and an errant gust of wind caught the car and nearly lifted it. He took his foot off the gas and was struggling to keep the car on course and on the road, when suddenly there was a bloody great cow on the road in front of them!

A cow! In the middle of nowhere. They’d seen no farms for ages.

He jammed on the brakes and swerved to avoid it – too far and too fast on the wet, slick road, and they went right across the other side, off the road, crashed through the foliage and stopped suddenly when they nosed-down into a ditch, The engine died instantly, but the lights were still on, lighting up the bush all around them. The speakers were still singing about how Chicago was a mighty fine town.

Dylan stabbed the button and turned the noise off, and then the lights. It was dark and quiet.

“Oh fuck! Wills? Speak to me, Wills. Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “I’m all right. A box of birds. Really, I’m fine. How are you, Dills?”

“I’m good. This is a fine bloody mess I’ve gotten us into. Sorry, Wills.”

“Hey, it’s not like you planned it. Accidents happen and it could’ve been worse. Where did that cow come from anyway?”

“Dammed if I know. There’s no farms around here.”

“There’s not. Maybe it’s going to Westpoint for the weekend?”

“At the rate it took off, it’s probably there by now. Oh, Wills, what are we going to do?”

“Make love?”

“Shut up. We are not! Come on, we’d better get out of here and have a look.”

They got out of the car. William couldn’t get his door open because it was hard-up against a tree trunk, so he had to climb over and out of the driver’s door. They helped each other up and out to the side of the road.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Wills?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe a bit shook up But are you okay, Dills?”

“I’m okay. It shook me too. Oh, Wills. I need a cuddle.”

“Me too!”

They moved into a hug and stood crying into each other. That felt better, so they stayed there for a long time.

A car came around the corner from the other way. It didn’t stop. As it approached, Dylan pushed back so he could have a look at his mate.

“Wills, you’re bleeding!”

“Am I? Oh, yeah. Just a scratch. A branch got me on the way out.”

“Bloody branch!”

“Yeah, the swine!”

“I’m sorry, Wills. I’m so, so sorry. Lord! I’d die if I really hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“Dills, it’s okay. We’re both alive and walking. Stop beating yourself up. It was an accident and you couldn’t help it.”

“I didn’t help at all. A better driver might have.”

“Doubt it. So, what are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know. I suppose we’d better call for help. It’s going to take a tow-truck to get the car out of there. We couldn’t shift it.”

“Not a show. What’s your mum going to say?”

“You mean before or after she kills me?”

“Yeah, we might be walking for a while.”

“I won’t be walking anywhere. I’ll be grounded for life! Have you got your cell? Mine’s in the car, somewhere.”

“Yeah, sure I’ve got it.” William took the cell-phone out of his pocket. “Who do we call?”

“Call the AA. 027326426.”

“Alcoholics Anonymous? You been drinking, Dills?”

“No, Dork! The Automobile Association. Mum’s a member and they have tow-trucks.”

“You think? Damm. There’s no coverage here.”

“No coverage? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Look, it’s not working. There’s too many hills around us, or something.”

“Bugger! So what do we do?”

“Start walking, I suppose. How far to Westpoint?”

“Not that much. About 20 or 25k’s. Still a long way to walk.”

“Yeah, it is, on a wet night. But we’d get there. We might come into cell-phone range, someone might pick us up or, if we come to a farmhouse, we can ask to use their phone. It’s not that late. It’s only about half past eight.”

“Okay, I’ll walk. You can wait in the car if you like.”

“No, I don’t like. I’m not staying here on my own in the dark. Where you go, I go. C’mon Dills, let’s walk.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Sure I am. It’ll do us good – settle the nerves down.”

“Okay, C’mon then.”

They started walking down the dark and quiet highway. It started raining again, just to make it even more enjoyable.

“Dills?”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you said we’d get wet if it rains? It’s working.”

“It is. Don’t we have fun?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes, not now. This is bloody wicked.”

“As in wicked bad?”

“Well, it’s not good. Sorry, Wills.”

“Shut up, Dills.”

Pretty soon they came to a red-painted drum mounted as a letter-box on the right-hand side of the road. A graveled driveway snaked off into the trees.

“You think there’s a house in there, Wills?”

“Could be. Let’s have a look.”

They started up the drive, around the first corner, and there was a light showing through the trees ahead of them.

“Cool. Civilization.”

“Yeah, let’s hope it’s not the wicked witch.”

“I already do!”

There was a big old house with trees growing close around it. They walked up to the door and it was a relief to get under the verandah and out of the rain.

They looked at each other in the light, and both thought that the other looked like a drowned rat.

“Oh, well,” William said. “Here goes nothing.”

He knocked on the door.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint

(Because Alastair was wondering - )

"Hey, Mr. James. How're you doing?"

"Hey, Ms. Archer. I'm good. What are you doing here?"

"Not a lot." She sat down beside him. "The same as you, just watching the kids' soccer practice. My brothers are out there. I didn't know that you were into soccer."

"I'm not really; I'm just waiting for Wills."

"Wills? Oh yeah, your cousin, William. He's a cute kid."

"He is. He's not just my cousin, he's my best friend too."

"Yeah? You two are pretty thick these days. You and him are like Siamese twins. What about Brodie? I thought he was your best friend."

"Brodie? Nah. Brodie's a mate, but he hasn't got a lot of time for me lately, he's far too busy."

"Busy doing what? Oh, don't tell me, I know. He's got a thing for Suzanne Woods, hasn't he?"

"He surely has! She's got a thing for him too, it's all good."

"Yeah, good for them. Man! There's been some changes in the Woods family. The mother's gone all religious, she's all-but living at the church. Suzanne's come out of her shell and got herself a boyfriend and Ashton's gone into a shell. He never goes anywhere or sees anyone now, just spends all his time at the de Groot's place. Maybe he's got a boyfriend too?

There's certainly some rich pickings there. Have you seen those cousins? Way cute, all of them. Mind you, the only one you ever see him with is Peter. He surely can't be into him."

"And why not? Peter's a nice enough kid."

"You think? No, Ashton's Mr. Cool, or he was, Peter de Groot is a bit of a dork, isn't he?"

"He's not at all. You just don't know him, Joyce. Would it worry you if they were boyfriends?"

"No. Why should it? Good luck to them, if that's what they want. None of my business anyway."

"You're right. It's not. You've got enough on your plate with Mac anyway. Where is Mac?"

"Over the other side there, being a dork."

"Yeah, I see him. Mac's not a dork."

"Okay, he's not. Don't tell him I said that."

"Don't tell him you said he's a dork?"

"No, Dylan. Don't tell him that I said he's not. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. What about you and your cousin? You've got me wondering now. Are you boyfriends too?"

"Joyce! That's none of your business either."

"Guess you're right. But that's not a 'no'. No, he's too young for you anyway. What is he, about 12 or something?"

"No, he's not. He's just turned 14 actually."

"That much? He doesn't look it."

"Maybe not, but he is. Sometimes I think Wills is more grown-up than I am."

"Wouldn't take a lot."

"Shut up, Joyce Archer!"

They exchanged grins.

Their practice run finished and Joyce's brother ran over to where Mac was. William came towards Dylan and Joyce.

Joyce picked up the bags next to her and stood up. "Okay, that's it - at last! I thought they were never going to finish. The idiot brothers have gone the wrong way. I'd better take their clothes over to them. Catch you later, Dylan. Be good."

"I'll be good, you be careful. Laters, Joyce."

"I, umm, yeah. Laters, Dylan. Hello William, Goodbye William."

"Hey and goodbye, Joyce."

She walked away and William took her place on the seat, next to Dylan. "What's this then? You chatting up girls while I'm not looking, Dills?"

"As if! Why would I want to do that when I've got a gorgeous boyfriend?"

"Oh have you just? So have I and he's all mine."

"All yours, My Wills. Put your pants on and we'll go home."

"Yeah, we'll go home and take them off again."

"Randy little shit."

"That's me! You wouldn't want me any other way."

"I'd want you any way you were."

"Yeah, you would. I love you too, Dills. So, are we on for the trip to the West Coast?"

"It's all on. Mum says we can have her car, but we have to pay for everything ourselves."

"That's okay. We can afford it, can't we?"

"Sure we can. We'll take a tent and sleep in that. That'll save us heaps." "A tent? Are you sure? It rains all the time over there, doesn't it?"

"Not all the time, just a lot. They are in a rain-forest. Mum says that they don't get many more wet days than we do, it's just when it rains over there, it really rains."

"Something to look forward to then. What are we going to do if we get caught in a rain-storm?"

"Dunno. Get wet maybe?"

"Shut up, Dills. Come on, let's go home. I'm starving!"

"You're always hungry."

"Yeah, well, I'm growing. I've got a long way to catch up to you."

"No hurry, Wills. You'll get there and I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for you."

"Thanks. And, you'd better! Let's go."

William shrugged into his camouflage jacket, Dylan slung the bag over his shoulder, and they started walking, out of the park, along the Esplanade to the main street and around to the hill up to William's house.

"I'll be glad when you get a car, Dills."

"Yeah, so will I. I'm thinking that a van would be better than a car. There'd be much more room and we could sleep in the back."

"We could, and do other things too."

"Yeah, I thought of that too."

"Of course you did. You call me randy - you're just as bad."

"You complaining?"

"Not likely!"

Their weekend trip started on a bit of a 'downer'. Dylan had their gear already loaded in the car and he brought it to school on Friday afternoon so that they'd be able to get on the road as soon as. It was only about 4 to 5 hours driving to Westpoint through the Lewis Pass, so by getting away straight after school, they planned on getting to there on Friday evening.

They'd find somewhere to sleep, have a bit of a look around on Saturday morning, and then drive down to Brownsville for the night. They'd sleep there, go over the Arthurs Pass to Christchurch and get back home by Sunday night.

So, as soon as school was over, a very excited, and impatient William was standing by the car waiting to go, but there was no sign of Dylan, he'd been delayed somewhere.

A pair of older boys, on bikes, came over, stopped and studied him and the car. William sighed and looked the other way. He could do without attention from the Griffin brothers. Like it or not, he had it.

"What's this?" Dougie Griffin sneered. "Off for a dirty weekend with James are you?"

"Looks like it, " Steven agreed. "He's fucking you, isn't he? Dirty queers."

"Yeah, the filthy bastards. I suppose, if you're into that sort of thing, this one's nearly as pretty as a girl. You're not though, are you? I mean, you have got a dick, haven't you?"

Willam thought of a dozen things he could say to that, but he kept his mouth shut. The goons were both twice as big as him. He wished they'd just go away and leave him alone, but they weren't going to.

Dougie continued, "Someone should do something about this. Cousins fucking, that's got to be illegal."

"Piss off, Griffins. Leave him alone!" Another boy came running over.

"Little Stevie Archer. What's it to you, Jerk? Are you fucking the pretty boy too?"

"No, I'm not. William's my friend and you can leave him alone."

"Like you're going to make us? Get real!"

"Yeah," Steven sneered. "Fuck off and mind your own business, unless you want a hiding too."

"Do you goons ever pick on someone your own size?" Lachan McLaughlin stopped. Virgil Cain was with him too.

"Oh, Gawd! More of them," Dougie said. "What is this, the Kaimoana Queer Club?"

Virgil said, "If there was a club, you'd be in it. It's all you two ever think about. Fuck off and leave the kids alone. Hassle them again and you've got big troubles."

"Oh, no! The Virgin Pansy is threatening us. I'm so scared! Bring it on."

Virgil grinned and said, "Hey, Missy."

"Missy? Is she here?" The Griffins looked around.

"Come on, Steve. Time we weren't here."

"Yeah, we've got better things to do." They got on their bikes and left.

Virgil nodded," Pussies! Lachie, sooner or later, we're going to have to do something about those two."

"It'll be a pleasure," Lachlan agreed. "You okay, William?"

"I'm okay. Thanks for that."

"Not a problem. We can't stand bullies, especially those two. Where's Dylan?"

"Don't know. He should be here, but he's late. Oh, here he comes now."

"Yeah, there he is. You'll be okay now. See you." They walked away.

William said, "Laters, Guys. Thanks again." He turned back to the other boy. "Thanks, Stevie. That was brave, rushing in like that."

"They don't scare me, well, not much anyway. Of course I came over. That's what friends do, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is, but thanks. I'd be glad to be your friend."

"I thought you already were. See you, William. Have a good weekend."

"Oh, I will! Hope you do too. Hey Dills, where've you been?"

"I got held up, sorry. What's been going on here?"

"Let's get going and I'll tell you on the way."

They drove up to William's house to get changed and get something to eat before they hit the road. They had a long way to go. Dylan asked several times what William was doing, but he brushed him off and didn't tell him until after they'd left town.

As it was, they were approaching Oaro when he told him about the Griffin brothers. Dylan turned into the next farm driveway and stopped the car.

"Dills, what are you doing?"

"We're going back."

"Back? What for? Come on, Dills, we're on our way now."

"So we'll go later. I'm going back to see those Griffin bastards."

"No, you're not! Dills, nothing happened and it's over now. Please, just leave it and we'll go and enjoy our weekend."

"Well. . ."

"Please, Dills?"

"Okay then, I'll leave it, but I'm still going to talk to them. I'll see them on Monday and tell the pair of them that if they touch you, they're touching me and I'll take it real, real personal. I'll kill the bastards."

"Dylan! You will not. Sheesh, you tell me to behave myself."

"That's different, Wills, and you know it. We're a couple and what hurts one of us hurts the other one too."

"All right then, but please don't do anything stupid. If you get in trouble, that'll hurt me too."

"I guess. Thanks, Wills. I love you."

"I know you do. I love you lots, My Protector."

"Always."

At Waipara, they turned on to State Highway 7 and headed west.

"Westward ho!"

"Yeah, westward ho the wagons. But I'm glad we've got a car."

"Yeah, cars are good. A wagon would take all week to get there."

"Probably. In the early days, some people walked all the way over there. That would take a week."

"At least. They bred them tough in the old days. How far have we got to go now?"

"Bloody miles. Just keep driving, Dills, we'll get there."

At Culverden, they stopped for a pee and a pie, which they ate as they carried on up the road. After the Hanmer turn-off, the signs of civilisation got more and more sparse as they headed up into the mountains. The sun was low in the sky now, which was a pain as it was directly ahead of them as they headed west.

"Must be a pain living on the West Coast, sometimes."

"How do you work that out?"

"Well, Christchurch is the nearest city, every time they go there for a weekend, they'd have the sun in their eyes all the way home."

"Damm, Wills. You're not just a pretty face, are you? You really think about things. You're a bright kid. Anyway, there's one thing you haven't thought of."

"What's that?"

"Well, there's no sun in your eyes when you're driving west and it's raining."

"There wouldn't be. You're not just a pretty face either, Dills."

"Not as pretty as you though."

"You think? I wish I wasn't. I hate my fucking face sometimes!"

Dylan pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car.

William said, "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something's wrong. You shouldn't say that, Wills."

"That I hate my face? Well I do! Everyone just sees a pretty face and I get hassled by creeps like the Griffins. There's more to me than that."

"Damm right there's more to you! You're bright and funny and really, really smart - well, usually. You're warm and caring and loving and I think that you're the nicest person I've ever known. You're just about the perfect boy, and that's without even thinking about what you look like. I love you, Wills - the real you and not just the face you show to the world, but that's pretty damm good too.

You look good. You look really, really good, but that's not what I love. Usually, I don't even see what you look like. I just see Wills and I love you. Okay?"

"Okay."

William undid his seat-belt and climbed over and sat on top of Dylan, face to face.

"There is one perfect boy in this car and it's not me. Thanks Dills. I love you very, vey much." He kissed him.

He pulled back and grinned widely. "Let's fuck."

"No, Wills. Not now. We've still got a long way to go and I don't want to be too late arriving somewhere where we've never been before. Anyway, we don't fuck. That's just crude. What we do is making love."

"Yeah, it is." He kissed him again, and then got back into his own seat.

"Okay, My Dills. Let's get going then. The sooner we get there, the sooner we get down to making love again."

"Sounds good."

"Oh, yah!"

He started the car and headed west again. They hadn't gone very far before the sun disappeared behind a big, black, bank of clouds over the mountains.

"Oh, oh. Looks like we spoke too soon about the sun."

"Yeah, it's raining up there. Dammit."

"Double dammit. I hope we're not in for a wet weekend."

"So do I, but I don't like our chances. What are we going to do, Dills? Maybe we should turn back and try again another time."

"No, to hell with that. We're going to Westpoint. A bit of rain won't kill us. We've got the car and we've got a tent. We can always put it up and stay in the one place for two nights."

"I suppose so. We can always go to the movies. We might see Indie again."

"Yeah, maybe. Did you bring a coat?"

"No. Did you?"

"Of course I didn't."

"Of course. Oh well, we can always buy some raincoats."

"You think? We're not rich, you know."

"Yes we are, we just haven't got much money."

"Shut up, Wills."

They drove into the rain. It didn't start gradually, it was more like driving into a curtain of water. It got dark all of a sudden and the windscreen wipers were struggling to cope with the deluge.

"Damm!"

"Yeah. Just as well we're not walking."

"Just as well. A motel is starting to look good."

"A motel is starting to look very good!"

They lost the radio reception as they headed up the mountain valleys, so William put a CD on.

"Oh no. Do we have to listen to this old stuff?"

"Yes we do. This is show tunes. We have to learn some of this stuff."

"I wish we didn't. Why can't they have decent music in the show?"

"Because it's a show. It's not that bad. It's just different to what you're used to. Enjoy, Dills."

"Yeah, right!"

They drove along in silence, listening to the CD.

William suddenly said, "Whoah!"

"Why whoah?"

"That sign we just went past, that was the summit of the Lewis Pass, the highest point on the road, so we're over the top now."

"Cool. Are we halfway there then?"

"No, we're way past halfway, but it's all downhill from now on."

"Maybe we should turn the engine off and save on the petrol?"

"Shut up. Dills. It's not that steep. It's only more or less all downhill"

"Oh. You should've said that then."

"I'm not even going to answer that."

They definitely were going downhill now and the road wound and twisted down the mountain pass. There was a high hill on one side of them, possibly a mountain, and on the other side, there was a huge drop down into a valley. It was swirled with mist and rain so they couldn’t see the bottom of it, but they were looking down at the tops of big trees.

The trees, as William pointed out, were still mainly the mountain beeches, but they were growing more densely together and there was a heavy undergrowth, mostly ferns. It was like they were in a different country already.

“Beech trees have got a special trick to stop snow settling on them. Their leaves are small and round and attached with very thin stems so that they shiver in the slightest breeze and shake the snow off. This road’s often closed by snow in the wintertime.”

“That right? Y’know, Wills, if I keep hanging around with you, I’m going to get well educated.”

“You are going to get educated!”

“Yeah, but it might take a few years.”

“That’s okay, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“We have!”

Around a sweeping downhill corner, they suddenly came to a big well-lit building, next to the road in the middle of nowhere. The sign identified it as “Maruia Springs Thermal Resort.” It was all on its own and they passed it and were back among the trees.

“What was that place?”

“Maruia Springs – natural hot pools and a big pub. It’s like Hanmer Springs, but on a smaller scale.”

“Hanmer must be big then.”

“Yeah, kind of. It is a town.”

“There must be a lot of hot springs around.”

“Probably. They’re not everywhere, but there are a few. Most people don’t know about them.”

“But you do, of course.”

“Of course! They’re marked on maps. I like reading maps.”

“Of course you do.”

“Shut up, Dills.”

The Kaimoana Operatic Society

(Wasn't sure what to call this one. Just a one-off).

"Well, Paul, I'm afraid I've got some news for you."

"Oh? It must be bad news if you're afraid?"

"Yes, it is. Good news for me, but bad for you. I hope so anyway."

"Now you've got me worried. What is bad news for me, Julie?"

"Well, it's this."

Ms. Stewart pushed a folded sheet of paper across Paul's desk. He picked it up, opened and scanned it.

"Oh. You're resigning. You're right, it is bad news. Can I ask why, Julie?"

"We're moving. My partner, Steve, has landed a promotion at last. He's going to be Assistant Manager of the Bank of New Zealand, High Street branch in Christchurch.

We are going to miss Kaimoana, but this is too good to miss. It's a big step up for him and could open all sorts of doors."

"That is good news, for you, but you're going to be missed here. You'll be a hard act to follow."

"Thanks, Paul. I'm sure you'll find someone, but we've got to go soon. I won't even be able to see the term out."

"We'll cope, somehow. Judith Morrison said that she'll come in to relieve whenever we need her."

"That's good, but there is your problem."

"Problem?"

"Yes. Mrs. Morrison will do relief teaching, but she's not prepared to do extra-curricular activities - says she's too old and she's not interested."

"Ah. So what extras will we have to cover?"

"There's the girls' netball team. That won't be a problem. Karen has been taking the juniors, she's happy to pick-up the senior team as well. No, your problem is the choir. I don't know who could take them on."

"The choir?"

"The kids' choir. We've made a commitment to supply a group of 12 kids for Mrs. Braidwood's Operatic Society. They're doing a musical comedy about the story of Kaimoana. They want all ages involved and a singing group of the little ones is always a big hit."

"And it's normal for the school to be involved?"

"Yes, we usually are. It's a tradition around here. It's a good experience for the kids and it’s good for the school to be involved in a community project. We have a choir, but they need a teacher to supervise and coach them."

"I see. Well, no problem, Julie, I'll do it myself."

"You will? Do you have any experience, Paul?"

"Yes, of course I have. I've taught kids' music for years, plus I used to be a member of the Kelburn Community Players. I wasn't always an old fuddy-duddy you know."

"I'm sure you weren't. No, forget I said that. You know what I mean."

"I hope I do," Paul laughed. "Don't worry, Julie. I'm sure we'll do fine. I'll look after your choir and it'll be good for me as well."

"It will. Everyone likes to see authority figures being normal people. Olive Braidwood is also the town librarian. If you like, we could go around there and see her in the lunch hour. I'll introduce you and tell her the good news.

She'll be delighted to have you on board. She's been getting a bit stressed."

"Okay. We'll do that then."

"Fine. I'll see you here at lunchtime. One thing though, just a word of warning. Olive can be a bit pushy. Don't let her overload you. They've got the kids and plenty of older people involved, but they're short of males willing to appear in the show."

"Thanks, but I can handle Mrs. Braidwood. I can be pushy too, if I have to."

So they went to the library and Paul met Olive Braidwood. She was sorry to hear that Julie was leaving, but delighted to get Paul for the show.

"It's so good to have another man with us. We really are short of males. If we have to, we'll dress some of the girls up in men's clothing, but it wouldn't be the same. It's going to be a great show this year. We've got an amazing pianist, a new boy in town, Gary Stafford, do you know him?"

"No. I don't think I've met him."

"Wait 'til you do. He'll blow your socks off! He really is that good."

"Okay. I'll look forward to meeting him.

She was right, the boy was good. Paul had been involved in amateur musicals for years and he'd never heard better. He played all styles of music and was easily good enough to be a professional. He was a nice kid too, not at all up himself. Paul liked him a lot.

He soon found that he was getting very involved in the show. It was a good thing to do and he was enjoying himself, but he had much more on his plate than just the choir. Olive Braidwood and her partner-in-crime, Patsy Tanner, were a pair of bulldozers. They were both dynamos and they weren't shy about delegating and finding more and more for willing hands to do.

It seemed that he'd lost his customary day of rest, on Sundays, for the forseeable future. The fishing was going to have to wait a while.

After a busy but enjoyable weekend, which he'd spent most of in the Memorial Hall, Paul was relaxing on Sunday evening when William finally came home. He'd been with Dylan all weekend, which Paul didn't mind at all. Dylan was a good boy and he was good for Wills.

But, he did worry that they spent all of their time together to the exclusion of everyone else. He hated to think what either one of them would do if they were to lose the other. They'd be totally lost! William had only made one other friend since coming to live here, and he'd lost him. Poor little bugger.

"Wills, come and sit here for a minute. I want to talk to you."

"Oh? About what?"

"Nothing bad. I've been thinking."

"And that's good?"

"Sure it is. About you and Dylan. You two spend all of your time together."

"Yeah, we do. Dad, don't even think about telling me to stop seeing Dylan. That is NOT going to happen. Dills is my best friend and he's the best friend I've ever had."

"He is. Don't worry, Wills, I wouldn't try to stop you seeing Dylan. I wouldn't do that."

"You couldn't anyway."

"Don't push it, Son."

"What's your problem then, Dad?"

"It's not a problem. I wouldn't want to see it become one, that's all. The fact of the matter is, Dylan is a couple of years older than you and you've made no other friends around here at all.'

"Dills is always saying the same thing and I tell him that it doesn't matter. I don't need any other friends."

"Dylan's a good kid. You should listen to him. The time will come when you need friends. In another year or so, Dylan will be away at university and you'll still be at school here. What are you going to do then?"

"I don't want to think about that. He'll be back for weekends and holidays anyway."

"I'm sure he will, but you do need to think about it. What are you going to do for 2 or 3 years when he's not here? You need some other friends, Wills. I'm not saying instead of Dylan, I'm saying as well as."

"Okay, maybe you're right, but now Damian's gone, there's no-one my age who interests me. They're all just kids."

"Give them a chance, Wills. They might suprise you."

"Yeah? Maybe. Damian's the only one who ever approached me."

"And you were glad of it, weren't you? If the mountain won't come to Mahomet, then Mahomet must go to the mountain. Wills, I'd like to see you more involved with the people in the town."

"How can I when they don't want to know me?"

"Get involved. I've joined the Operatic Society and it's a lot of fun. They are desperate for more boys to join them. They're doing a show, it's going to be good, but they are top-heavy in females. Why don't you come and join us? You're a born performer. I think you'd love it."

"Hmm. Well, all right, I will but only if Dills comes too."

"That'd be good. Dylan would be welcome too, but tell him to leave his guitar at home. I don't think they're ready for that."

"Who is? Yeah, it'd be good if Dills tried something new. His music is bloody awful."

"You'll get no arguments from me there. So you'll come?"

"I will if Dills does. I'll go and ring him and see what he says."

"Good boy, Wills. Thanks."

"Thanks, Dad. Thanks for worrying about me."

"That's my job. It always has been and always will be."

Dylan was reluctant, it was SO not his scene, but after Paul spoke to him, he agreed to come for Will's sake.

Mrs. Braidwood was delighted to see them walk into the hall on Monday afternoon and she welcomed them with open arms.

"Dylan! Have you come to join us? Great! And this must be your cousin, Paul's boy? Welcome, William. Welcome to the both of you. We knew it was going to be a good year, but we didn't think we'd have a movie star with us."

"Hey, Mrs. Braidwood. Thanks, but I'm not a movie star, I've just done some acting. It was different to this, but I'd like to give your show a go."

"You're very welcome and I'm sure you'll do fine. Maybe you could teach the rest of us about acting."

"I doubt it. It was a long time ago and I was just a kid."

"And now you're so old? Sorry, William, but to me you are a boy. Hell, so is my son and he's a father already. Do either of you play any instruments?"

Dylan's eyes lit up. "Well . . " he began, but William leapt in and cut him off.

"No we don't! Dills has got a guitar but you seriously don't want to know."

"Spoilsport."

"Hush, Dills. It's not that sort of music."

"I guess you're right."

"It's not?" said Mrs. Braidwood. "It's always good to try something new. Now, it's great to have you with us, but we're still short of males. If you could bring your friends along, that would be good. We have got a few though. Do you know Lachlan and Gary?"

William shook his head, but Dylan nodded. "Lachlan McLaughlin? Yeah, I know him. Is Gary that kid who hangs around with him?"

"I suppose that he must be. He's Gary Stafford and he's an amazing pianist - a very, very good musician. You'll meet them, they'll be here soon.

I've got to go. Have a seat, Boys, and I'll be with you shortly. Have a look at those scripts there. They're just rough copies and subject to change. Dr. Stevens wrote our show, but it's a work in progress. We have to adapt to suit the talent we've got."

She hurried away and left them sitting at the side.

"Talent?" Dylan sighed. "Maybe you've got talent, Wills, but I don't know what I can do. Stand and fill up the background, I suppose."

"You're better than that, Dills. We could do a love scene, a boy-boy clinch up on the stage. That'd wow them."

"That'd bloody shock them! I don't think Kaimoana's ready for that. Won't be happening."

"Yeah? Maybe you're right. Here's Dad coming."

Paul came into the hall, looking like a mother duck with his troupe of little ones. He smiled and nodded to the boys, but kept going to the back. They went up on to the stage to practice a dance routine.

Lachlan and Gary came in and came over to say "Hey". Lachlan and Dylan introduced their friends.

"Wow, William Scott! Didn't know we'd have a star in the show."

"Shut it, Gary. I'm not a star, I've just done a bit of acting."

"That's more than any of us have. Well, except for Lachie, he's been here before."

"You have, Lachlan?"

"I've been in a show before, years ago, when I was a kid. We did Robin Hood, Men in Tights. At least we won't have to wear panty hose this time."

"Let's hope not!"

"Ah, yeah. Watch it, here's the Can Can girls."

A group of 4 highschool girls came over to say hello. They were all wearing full, calf-length skirts on top of their street clothes.

"Hey, Girls," Dylan greeted them. "Is that your costumes? You look ridiculous."

"Shut up, James," Sally Griffin grinned. "These are just our practice skirts. Our real costumes are going to be sensational. We'll look like a pack of Parisian hookers."
"Oh. Just the usual then."

"Shut up, James! Anyway, don't laugh too soon. The story line has a bunch of whaling men trying to do the Can Can before the girls show up."

Gary said, "Don't look at me. I just play the piano."

"And you do it so well! No, you'll be safe from that. You all will. They want a bunch of fat and ugly old men. They'll probably use the old-age pensioners, the older the better."

"Yeah, you're safe," Fern said. "You're all far too good-looking, even Lachlan. Damm, Lachlan! You're looking good you know. Whatever you're doing, keep on doing it."

"Well, umm, yeah, thanks, I think." Lachlan blushed.

"Fern!" Sally laughed. "I thought you had your eye on Ashton Woods?"

"I'm just saying. Anyway, Ashton's off the scene these days. He's spending all his time with Peter de Groot. Speaking of which, have you seen Peter's cousins? Whoah!"

"Yeah, whoah. They're pretty cute all right. I think they're all snobs though."

"When they look that good, they can afford to be."

"All right, Girls." Mrs. Braidwood came back. "Paul's using the stage with his kids. We'll go and use the lunch room to practice. The Kapa Haka group can have the entrance lobby. Gary, we've got a keyboard set up, would you come and do the music for us? Lachlan, you could go and help Mr. Jackson. He and his crew are painting flats behind the stage."

"What can we do?" William asked.

"You two just wait there. Patsy Tanner will be with you in a minute. She needs you both to sing so that we can decide where to use you.

Sally, where is Joyce?"

"I don't know. She should be here by now. She's probably scrapping with Mac somewhere. They usually are."

They all went, leaving William and Dylan sitting alone again.

"Singing!" Dylan said. "I didn't know there was going to be singing involved."

"Of course there is, Dills. It's a musical. Don't worry, they'll just put us in a chorus if we're no good."

"Oh, I'm good enough, but I don't like this sort of crappy music."

"We know what sort of crappy music you like."

"Shut it, Wills. It's not crappy, it's good music, not like this stuff."

"If this is not like your music, then that's good."

"Watch it, Wills."

"Dylan James, I'll have you know, this is not crap music we're doing here." Mrs. Tanner had walked up to them unseen. "We're doing show tunes - some of the best songs from the best shows ever written."

"Yeah, yeah. Couldn't we, at least, do a couple of hip-hop tunes, Patsy? It doesn't all have to be old stuff, does it?"

"You'd have to talk to Dr. Stevens about that, but I don't like your chances. It's a show, Dylan. We do show tunes. Come on over to the piano and we'll see what you can do."

They went over to the piano which was down on the floor in front of the stage. Patsy sat down and William and Dylan stood next to her.

"Now, Boys. What have we got here?"

She shuffled through a pile of pages of sheet music. "Aha! Maybe William could try this," she said with a grin.

William looked at the sheet she'd selected and shook his head. "I Feel Pretty? I don't think so. That's a girl's song, Mrs. Tanner. I'm not singing that, I'd look stupid."

"Dead right!" Dylan agreed emphatically. "We're here to have fun, not to make complete dorks of ourselves in public."

"Okay, okay. I was only joking. How about this, from the Phantom of the Opera - The Music of the Night?"

"Well, I'll try. I'm not a great singer you know."

"Just do your best, William. It's only a trial to see how you go."

She played and William stood behind her where he could follow the words. He sang okay, nothing startling, his voice was just average. While he was waiting, Dylan looked through the sheet music that she'd left on top of the piano. The song finished and the boys grinned at each other.

"Okay, William," Patsy nodded. "You're not too bad, I've heard a lot worse. Front row of the chorus for you, I think."

"Thanks, Mrs. Tanner. That'd suit me, I couldn't see over the heads from the back."

"You wouldn't. You wouldn't be seen front the front either, and I think that's important."

"Important?"

"Yes. You're a fine-looking boy. If you've got it, flaunt it I always say. Now, Dylan, do you want to try the same song?"

"No thanks. Could we try this?" He handed her a page. "I know the words to that one."

"Really?" she queried. "The Impossible Dream from The Man of La Mancha? Dylan, this is probably the most difficult song we've got here."

"If I've got to sing, I'd like to try that one. I know it, our grandmother used to sing it."

"Yeah, she did," William said. "She sang it to me too. She wasn't very good."

"I'm not suprised," Patsy said. "This is a difficult song. Lots of great singers have tried it and failed. Have you heard Elvis' version? He made a mess of it in my humble opinion. Think you can do better than Elvis, do you, Dylan?"

"No, I don't. I think this was a bad idea. There must be something I could do without getting up on the stage. I could sell tickets or something."

"Any dork could do that!" William protested. "Come on, Dills. Don't be chicken. You wouldn't have to be much to be better than me and I want to hear you sing something different."

"Well."

"Please, Dills?"

"Okay, just for you."

"Great! That's my Boy!" William beamed.

Patsy looked from one grinning face to the other and she thought, 'Hmmm.' She wouldn't blame them either. They were a pair of nice-looking kids and obviously very close.

"All right then. Let's try it, shall we?"

Patsy played and Dylan sang. The kids up on the stage were taking a break and they sat/stood and watched and listened. Paul, in his 'director's chair', sat up and took notice. He knew this song well. The Impossible Dream was an impossible song for amateurs. When he was with the Kelburn Community Players, years ago, they used it in one of their shows. They made a right hash of it.

Dylan was doing quite well actually, he suprised him. He'd heard the music that he usually murdered. Patsy's playing was quite pedestrian. She was nowhere near the standard of the boy playing out in the supper room, but she was doing okay.

The song built to the finish, Dylan was getting a bit breathless and he missed the climatic note entirely. He fell flat, and he knew it. He looked at Wills and made a wry grin.

"Sorry," he said. "I stuffed that up, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did." William grinned. "Better than I could do though."

Patsy said, "It wasn't that bad, Dylan. Okay, you missed the high note. That's nothing to be ashamed of, most people do, it's bloody difficult. Elvis missed it too.

But, you're not too bad you know. Given a simpler song, you'll do fine. We can use you in the chorus, you're tall enough to see over the heads from the back. I'll talk to Olive and Dr. Stevens, I think you're good enough, with a bit of practice and training, for a solo or two. Definitely good enough for a duet. Do you know Summer Nights from Grease?"

"I've heard it. I wouldn't say that I know it."

"That'll be your homework then. Learn Summer Nights. I think that's your song."

"Okay, I will. Thanks, Patsy."

"Thank you, Boys. I'm not sure what you're going to do now. Go and watch the Can Can girls and Mrs. Braidwood will find you a job to get rid of you."

On the stage, Paul nodded to himself. He agreed with Patsy's verdict. Neither Wills nor Dills was ever going to be a star, but they were good enough for an amateur production, especially Dills. That was a difficult song he'd attempted and while he didn't shine, he was not too bad. Still, he couldn't help feeling disappointed. He was hoping that his nephew was going to show a hidden talent - he didn't.

Then he heard it. Real talent and really hidden. A voice was coming from behind the curtain at the back of the stage. Someone back there was singing The Impossible Dream, and he was good. He was very, very good.

Paul sat spellbound and listened to the amazing voice of the unseen singer. The song built and built and he easily soared through the crashing climax. Paul had, unconsciously, risen to his feet and he stood there, amazed, stunned and very, very impressed.

"Bloody Hell!" he whispered. "Who is that?"

He lifted the curtain and looked backstage. It was disappointing that Dylan didn't prove to be an unlikely star, but here was one even more unlikely and he was a real star - an incredible singer!

A tall, well-built boy, blond hair, blue eyes and a wide smile, was standing on a step-ladder with his arms flung out wide and looking down at the gobsmacked boy looking up at him. He had bare feet and was clad in paint-splattered blue overalls. They didn't see Paul looking back at them.

"And that's how it's done," the boy on the ladder said. "It was in the version I heard anyway. Jim Nabors, I think."

"Fuck me!" the other boy said. "I didn't know you could sing like that. I didn't know anyone could sing like that. That was awesome!"

"Hey! I'm not just a pretty face. I've got talents."

"You have!" They both looked around at Paul when he spoke. "You've got real talent. I've never heard better. What the hell are you doing back here?"

"Doing?" the blond boy shrugged. "Nothing much. We're meant to be helping Mr. Jackson, painting flats, but he's gone and disappeared on us. We think he's probably smoking a joint somewhere."

"A joint?"

"Yeah," the dark-haired boy said. "Drugs - marijuana, you know. Mr. J's a bit of an old hippy."

"Oh, okay as long as you two are not doing it with him."

"Not bloody likely! We don't do that shit. We've seen where it gets you."

"I'm pleased to hear it. That's a dead-end street. Your parents have taught you well."

"Oh, you've got no idea!"

"Anyway, I didn't mean what are you doing back here right now. I meant, why aren't you out the front and center-stage? With a voice like that, you should be starring in the show, not painting backdrops."

"It's gotta be done and someone's got to do it," the blond boy said. "That’s what we've signed up for. Our job is scenery, props and costumes."

"You're going to waste. I'm Paul Scott, I'm here with the kids' choir. And your names are?"

The dark-haired boy replied. "Joel and Virgil. I'm Virgil Cain, that's Virgil not virgin, and this is my mate, Joel Stafford."

"Joel Stafford? Are you related to Gary, our pianist?"

"Yeah, I am," Joel grinned. "He's my cousin. Music must run in the family."

"It really must! Gary is very good, but you are - well, incredible actually. Has Mrs. Braidwood heard you sing?"

"No. No-one asked us. Our job is back here."

"It should not be. We haven't got that much talent that we can afford to waste it, and you are definitely going to waste. Do you sing, Virgil?"

"I sing like a dog. But Joel, you've got to get out there. You don't belong backstage. He's right, you're being wasted."

"You think?"

"I do. Why haven't you sung for me before?"

"Well, I was busy."

"Oh yah! But you've blown your cover now. You've got to do it, Joel. You have to!"

"Well . . if they want me, I will."

"They're friggin' mad if they don't."

"They certainly are," Paul said. "Come with me, Boys. We'll go and see the Boss."

"I thought I was the Boss."

"Shut up, Virgil. You're not. Come on, we'll go with the Man."

"The Man? The Boss? What am I?"

"You don't want to know."

"Watch it, Joel Stafford. You're still on trial you know. Come and be the Singer."

Paul led the way, across the stage and down to the floor of the hall. He stopped at the piano and picked up the sheet music, and then they went through to the supper room at the side.

The girls were still practicing their routine, coached by Mrs. Braidwood and Gary was playing a keyboard. William and Dylan had gone, Mrs. Braidwood had found a job for them. Gary grinned a welcome and finished the tune.

"Hey, Joel. Hey, Virgil. You guys want something?"

"No they don't, but we do," Paul replied. "Olive, you've got to hear this. Girls, take a break, and Gary, would you play this for us please?" He handed Gary the music.

He took the page and looked at it. "The Impossible Dream? Big song. Yeah, I think I can play it. It's not an easy tune."

Paul said, "Hard for some people, maybe. Are you ready, Joel? Let's do it. Blow their socks off, Boy!"

"Joel is going to sing this?" said Gary. "That'll be interesting. Okay, let's see if you can blow the socks off."

He could and he did. By the time they reached the end of the song, even Gary had stopped playing and he stood, like everyone else, in open-mouthed shock. Joel grinned at the stunned faces around the room. No-one was saying a word, so he took a bow.

Virgil was the first to recover. "Wow! That's my Boy. Awesome, Joel. Frigging Awesome!"

"He certainly is," Paul beamed proudly. He felt a proprietal interest in his discovery. "Olive, you've gone very quiet. What do you think?"

"I'm in shock. Very nice. Thank you, Joel. I'm sorry we can't use you in the show."

"What?"" Gary squawked. "Not use him? But you have to! Joel, you're incredible. Mrs. Braidwood, please say that you're joking."

"Yes, of course I'm joking. We can't not use you in our show. Joel, you're unbelievable. First Gary and now you. I don't think I can take any more shocks like that."

"So, he's in then?" Paul was a little confused.

"Of course he's in, Paul, as long as he's willing. With Gary on piano and Joel singing, we don't need anyone else and we'd still have the best value for money show that this town's ever seen. Are you in, Joel?"

"Yeah, I'm in," Joel grinned. "I'm getting sick of painting flats anyway."

"Great! I'll paint the flats, if I have to. You're too good to lose. Girls, thank you. You can go home now, we've finished for today. You boys stay where you are, I'll be back. I'll ring Dr. Stevens and tell him to get down here right now!"

Kaimoana Tales, Lachlan & Gary, 62

“I’m not making any promises though,” Gary said earnestly. “I’ll try to play, but I might freeze up if everyone’s looking at me.”

“You’re doing well so far,” Mr. McLaughlin said. “Can you play something else?”

“Okay. If Lachlan sings with me, I will”

“Deal!” Lachlan said. He leafed through the sheet music to find something suitable. “But, I warned you, I’m nothing great – just adequate. Yeah, this’ll do.” He put a page on the rack on the piano. “Can you play this?”

“Really? This old thing?”

“Yes, really. I know it’s old and corny, but it’s a fun song. We used to do it at primary school.”

“Okay, let’s have fun then.”

He started playing and Lachlan sang. They did have fun, clowning around and camping it up, laughing together and playing off each other. Lachlan’s mother, and 2 other women, came back into the room behind them. Gary didn’t see them there, he was busy.

They finished with a flourish and grinned at each other as their audience applauded. Gary realised that there was too much applause and he looked around at the others there.

“Patsy! Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Nature Boy. Jenny rang and told us to get our butts out here and we’d hear something special – and we did! This is Olive Braidwood, she is chairman and musical director of the Kaimoana Operatic Society. I’m the secretary/treasurer and general dog’s body. I didn’t know that you were an artist.”

“An artist? I’m no artist, I just play around a bit.”

“Rubbish, Gary,” Lachlan grinned. “You’re a real artist. Please play Whispering Hope again - show them what you can really do.”

“Well, I, okay. I’ll try.”

He played the intricate tune again and, when he finished, there was the now-usual reaction – gobsmacked silence. He looked around the quiet people.

Patsy caught his eye and she grinned. “Well! Here was I thinking that I’d seen all of you. I hadn’t. I hadn’t even begun to see the real you. You’re bloody amazing, Kid. Olive, what do you think?”

“What do I think? I think that we’re wasting our time here. But, thank you, Gary. That was very nice. Patsy’s right, you’re amazing.”

“I don’t get it,” Lachlan’s mother said. “You agree that he’s a great musician. Why do you say that you’re wasting your time?”

“Because we are. Jenny, you told us to get around here to hear this pianist that you had for us. The boy is a pianist, there’s no doubt about that, but he’s not suitable for us.”

“Why not then? You agree that he’s good.”

“Oh, he’s good. He’s too good. Our society are just a bunch of amateurs, this boy is a maestro. He’s way too good for us.”

“Olive, that’s insane,” Mr. McLaughlin said. “We’ve got a talent like this in our town, why the hell wouldn’t you use him?”

Lachlan had to get involved. “Yes, why not use Gary? With him in the cast, you’d have a show that Kaimoana will never forget.”

“We would! Okay, I’m kidding you, Gary. We would absolutely love to have you in our show. I do worry though, that you’ll show up our group of housewives, schoolkids and old age pensioners as the bunch of amateurs that we are.

We’ll have to talk to Dr. Stevens and see if he can work you in as a soloist. You’re far too good to be just a back-up musician.”

“Well, Nature Boy, are you with us?” Patsy smiled.

“I’ve never done anything like this; never played in public, but, yeah. I’ll give it a try, as long as Lachlan comes with me, I’ll be there, if you want me.”

“Of course we want you!” Mrs. Braidwood said. “Lachlan, are you with us too?”

“Yes, sure I am. Gary’s not going anywhere without me.”

“Great, we’ve got a pianist then, and another chorus member.”

“I don’t want to be the star though,” Gary said. “I’d be happier just being one of the crew.”

“We’ll talk about that,” Patsy said. “You’re far too good to be just part of the background.”

(As it turned out, Gary was part of the show, his music was enjoyed, but he was far from being the star. There was more talent in their town than anyone had dreamed of.)

They played around for a while, and had an old-fashioned sing-along around the piano. Mrs. Braidwood and Patsy said that they had to be getting home, and arranged for Gary to meet them at the Memorial Hall the next day. They’d try to get Dr. Stevens to come down, if he had time.

Cherie and Grace wanted one more song, but Lachlan said, “No” and he closed the piano.

“C’mon, Gary. We’ll go for a walk and get some fresh air.”

Gary agreed and thanked everyone for the evening. He’d had a good time. They told him that they had too, of course, thanked him and said to come back anytime.

Lachlan’s Gran said, “Treat the piano like it’s yours. Come and play it any time.”

“I will. Thanks. ‘Bye everybody. C’mon, Lachie, we’re walking.”

They left the house and went out to the road in front.

“Which way do we go?”

“Is Joel at home?”

“No, he went to Virgil’s. He won’t be back ‘til late.”

“Cool. Let’s go to the caravan then.”

“The caravan? That’s not far to walk.”

“It’s far enough and there’s no-one there.”

“No. Oh, right! Let’s go to the caravan!”

They walked together, the couple of hundred meters along the road. It was a quiet, peaceful, windless evening. There weren’t many streetlights, but it was bright enough, there was a big, bright moon up there.

They went into the dark yard near the workshop, (Gary had a key to the gates at the front), and back to the caravan. The yard was full of hulking objects, dark and mysterious in the moonlight.

“Don’t you worry about being in here on your own?”

“Not really. I’m not usually on my own, Joel is here mostly.”

“But not always.”

“No, but – whatever. It’s a quiet place and there’s friendly neighbours just across the road.”

He opened the caravan, stepped inside and turned the lights on. “Come inside and make yourself at home, Lachie.” He closed the drapes over all the windows.

Lachlan stood looking around. “Seriously, Gary, you two are a pair of slobs. This place is a mess.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit lived in. I’m trying to train Joel, but he’s not listening. When he lived with his father he was too scared to make a mess. Now he’s making up for lost time.”

“He’s doing well. Which bed is yours?”

“I have the one back here. Joel’s one is at the front.”

“I don’t see a lot of difference; they’re both a mess.”

“Just a bit untidy. We’ll straighten it up.”

“Just a bit? I hope you don’t think I’m here to do your housework.”

“No way! I hope you’re here for something better than that.”

“Like what?”

“Like, well – sex?”

“Wrong!”

“Wrong? But . . . you . . . I . . .well. We’re not? I thought. Aren’t we going to make love, Lachlan?”

“Yes, no, maybe. I don’t know. If you think that I’m here just so you can get your rocks off, you can think again. If it’s just sex you want, go and put your name and number in the shower block at the camping ground. That’s the best hook-up place in town.”

“No, Lachlan. That’s not it. That’s not what I want at all.”

“What do you want then?”

“Want? I want you, nobody else. I want to get closer to you. I want to love you and I want you to love me. That’s all I want, now and always.”

“Oh, yeah! Now we’re talking,” Lachlan grinned and he kissed him. “Love me, Gary.”

“Oh I do. I really do love you, Lachie.” He kissed him.

Lachlan broke away. “Can we, well, can we sort this damm bed out first?”

“Sure we can.”

They pulled everything off the bed and straightened the covers up. Gary sat down, took his sneakers off, and then lay back across the bed.

“Okay? Are you with me now?”

“Yeah, I think.” Lachlan toed his sneakers off and stood looking down. “Gary? I’m a bit nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Never?”

“Never. Well, except in my dreams.”

“Was I in your dreams?”

“You were actually. All of the time lately.”

“Cool. I dream about you too.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?’

“No, I’m not. Lachie, I dream about you all the time. You don’t have to worry, we’re not going to do anything that you’re not ready for. Just, come and kiss me – please?”

“Oh, yah! I’m ready for that!” Lachlan beamed. He lay down and stretched out beside him. They kissed.