Gimme Shelter II - 1

(It happened - part 2. One day i'm going to stop!)

Time passed. Weeks, months, years went by. Two years is a long time when you're 15! Ronnie never heard from Boy and didn't have a clue how he could contact him. He felt bad about that, they'd parted on bad terms but he missed him. He'd fix it if he could, but didn't know how to.

All he could do was to wait and hope. Boy knew where he was; he was where he'd always been. But, nothing happened, he never heard from or about him, not a word. Ronnie felt heart-sick, but what could he do?

He carried on living his quiet life, one day at a time. Then, something happened – something really bad. Late one night while the Martin family slept in their quiet rooms, there was a fire up-top and the old shop, dry and wood-clad, burnt to the ground

Safely ensconced down below, they knew nothing about it until one of the local volunteer firefighters came roaring and yelling up and down the corridors. Gran was outraged when she found that he'd kicked the door in on her beloved cottage in order to get inside.

She knew that he was worried about them and was trying to do the right thing, but he didn't have to smash his way in, did he? The blasted door wasn't even locked! It never was and he was never going to live that down. Gran was not one to forgive easily.

(She'd never forgive those bloody maoris either! Leaving like they had, just up and gone without even a 'goodbye', had hurt her grandson, very much. She could see it in his eyes and she was fiercely protective of her boys.)

Anyway, on the night of the fire, they were all perfectly safe where they were, they couldn't even smell any smoke, but once awake, of course they had to go up-top to see what was going on. There was no getting out through the burning building, they had to go up through the cottage and around the street corner.

When they got there, the fire was a raging inferno, the old shop was a pillar of crackling flames and the fire brigade weren't even trying to put it out. They were busy trying to save the other buildings around it. The paint was even blistering on the front of the hardware store along the street.

Ronnie saw the burning shop, saw the fire-hoses being directed everywhere except at the fire, and he wailed. “Nooo!” He would've rushed into the flames if his brother hadn't grabbed and held him.

Reggie though younger, was bigger and stronger than Ronnie, but he was struggling to restrain him. Both of them were yelling at the top of their voices, Reggie at his frenzied brother and Ronnie at the fire. Their father stepped forward, wrapped his strong arms around Ronnie and held him until he settled down.

“It's gone, Ronnie. It's too late to save anything, they're doing the right thing stopping it from spreading further. No great loss anyway, the old place was getting past it.”

“The books!” Ronnie yelled. “My books are in there. They're burning and no-one's doing anything about it!”

“Your old books – yes, they've gone. It could've been so much worse. Imagine if you or Reggie were sleeping up there. Forget the books, they don't matter.”

“They don't matter? Forget them? They were my books, Dad. Mine! They were all I had, they were my life!”

“They're not your life, Son, they never were. They were just an escape from your life, a shield for you to hide behind.”

“No!” he wailed. “You don't know. You don't feckin' know!”

“Oh, My Ronnie! I'm sorry, but forget them – your books were all ancient and you've been reading them for years. You must've read most of them by now. All that matters is that you are all right, you and Reggie. Your books are history, we'll buy you new books, better ones, as many as you want.”

“Mine! Mine, mine – gone!” Ronnie sobbed.

“There'll be new books. Son, this might not be the best time, but I've been thinking. Old Mr. Parkhouse can't go on forever. If you like, when you've finished school, we'll buy his bookshop for you. Would you like that? I think it'd suit you.”

“Really?” He lifted his head to look his father in the eyes. “You'd do that for me?”

“Of course I would. I'd do anything I can for you. We can't see you working in the garage, that's more Reggie's style, but a bookshop would suit you fine. Mind you, you'd have to actually sell the books and let people take them away.”

“I know that!” he grinned through his tears. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You're welcome.”

Later that morning, Ronnie was standing there, alone, forlornly poking through the still-warm ashes with a long stick.

“Hello, Young Ronald. What are you doing there?”

Sue Thompson, the town librarian, stood looking at him.

“”Oh, Hey Mrs. Thompson. I'm just looking to see if anything survived in there.”

“Not much chance of that. That was some fire! I could see the flames from my place and I'm way across town.”

“Yes. Quite a funeral pyre really.”

“Funeral pyre? For your books? You had quite a library, didn't you?”

“I did, but I haven't now, they're gone! So many stories, I had hundreds of them, now I've got none.”

“None,” she nodded. “And you're upset. They were your friends, weren't they?”

“Yes, exactly! No-one understands that, but they were my friends, the only friends I had.”

“I can understand that. They were your windows on the world too.”

“They were, they really were.”

“Of course they were, But I wouldn't say that they were your only friends you know.”

“You wouldn't?”

“I would not. Your grandmother rang me this morning and asked me to come and see you.”

“She did? Why would she do that?”

“Because she's worried about you and doesn't know what to do.”

“And you would?”

“Maybe. Come with me, Ronald. I want to show you something.”

She led him over to her car and, once he was seated, drove a short distance up the street and stopped.

“The library?” Ronnie looked at the building that they were parked outside.

“Yes,” she smiled. “Your other library, the one you've never used.”

“It's not mine.”

“Oh but it is! It belongs to the town and you are part of our town – born and bred here. Come inside, Ronald. Come and I'll show you what you've got here.”

“Ronnie,” he nodded. “Please call me Ronnie, not Ronald. Thanks Mrs. Thompson.”

“You're very welcome. Good to see you smile at last. Now come and see.”

Gimme Shelter, 7

(Here we go - last part. There should be a part 2 where everyone lives happy ever after, but i dunno if that's going to happen).

Time went on and they were making no progress at all on where Ronnie, kind-of, wanted to go, but it was still good. Boy was a good mate and they were becoming really close friends.

Summer was coming, they both turned 13 within weeks of each other and their families celebrated in their separate ways. It was a good time in their lives; everything was fresh, new and exciting as their childhood world opened up, though they didn't realise that at the time. Ronnie was to look back later and think that those were his Golden Days. They ended all too soon.

Boy arrived at the cottage door, unexpected, early one Saturday evening. Ronnie was delighted to see him, as always, and they went through the corridors and up to his reading room.

There'd been changes made up there, not a lot, but some. The old couch had been ejected, dragged downstairs and into the old shop. A couple of old mattresses, heaped with big cushions, took its place. They made a sort-of big couch/day bed – a great place for two boys to stretch out side by side, to read, to talk and sometimes to sleep together.

They went up into the room and flopped on the mattresses together.

“Ronnie, we hafta talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“About us. Can I stay here tonight?”

“Sleep here? Yeah, of course you can.”

“Cool. Thanks. Have you had dinner?”

“Yeah, we're just finished. Have you eaten?”

“I've had some. I'm not that hungry anyway.”

“You're not? You sick or something?”

“No, I'm not sick,” Boy laughed. “I'm just not hungry. I stuffed myself at lunchtime and I'm a bit nervous.”

“You're nervous? What about?”

“About us.”

“Us? I'm not with you.”

“Ronnie, well, we're mates, right?”

“Yeah, sure we are. Best mates forever, you and I.”

“Best friends, yeah. But I'm not so sure about the forever part.”

“But . . Why not then?”

“Because. Ronnie, sometimes life gets in the way and things don't go the way you want them to.”

“They don't?”

“They don't. Look, remember when I told you that I'd had sex?”

“With your brother, yeah, I remember.”

“Mostly with my brother. But remember that I said I'd like it if it was with you?”

“Oh yes, I remember that! But we haven't done it.”

“No we haven't. It's about time that we did. You do want to, don't you?”

Ronnie grinned and kissed him on the lips. “I want to,” he whispered.

“Cool!” Boy beamed his wide smile. “Let's do it then – right now!”

“Boy, I, umm. I don't know what to do.”

“Lie back there then and I'll show you. I love you, Ronnie.”

“I love you too. Show me, Boy.”

He showed him, oh man did he show him! Ronnie thought that he knew about sex, in theory anyway – he didn't. Boy showed him more that night than he'd ever dreamed of.

He didn't go home afterwards, which was choice. They slept together in a sweaty tangle of arms and legs and, even better, when they woke in the morning they did it all again. Ronnie thought that he could SO get used to this; he'd never had a better time in his life.

Later, they cleaned-up in the old bathroom up there. There was no hot water, only cold, but they used it, sponging themselves standing in the bath, drying off quickly and diving back into bed where it was warm..

They could've gone downstairs to shower in comfort but Boy wouldn't. There was no need to, he said. However, he did come down to Gran's underground kitchen at lunchtime. “Well – you hafta eat!”

They didn't move again for the rest of the day. Why would they? They had everything they wanted up there in Ronnie's reading-room. Thgey missed dinner because they were sleeping and no-one woke them up. That was a first!

Finally, at 10.30pm, Boy said that he had to go home. “No, no-one will be looking for me. They probably don't even know I've gone. But if I'm not there in the morning the kids won't get to school.”

“Really? But that's your mother's job, isn't it?”

“After a party weekend, she'll be lucky to get herself out of bed, never mind anyone else. No, I've gotta go, Ronnie. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay – if you have to.”

“I have to.”

They dressed and Ronnie went downstairs with him, to open the front-door and let Boy out into the street. Before he did that, he took hold of Boy's head and kissed him one more time, because he could. “Bye, Boy. Sleep well.”

“Oh, I will! Bye, Ronnie and thanks!”

“Thanks? Thank you! Really thank you, it's been great.”

“Oh yah!”

Back to school next day and Ronnie was happy. Very happy. It was an effort to keep the big soppy grin from breaking out on his face, but he tried. Only dorks walk around grinning all day.

They ate lunch together, sitting on the edge of the sportsfield at the back of the school. They were all aone there but in full view of the whole school, so there was no kissing or anything. Worse luck.

After school, Boy left with his cousins, riding on the back of his uncle's old truck. They had things to do, but he wasn't saying what. Ronnie went home alone. It was kind-of okay, he was used to it. Just as well too, because it happened again on Tuesday.

Wednesday was different though. Boy walked home with him and he was staying the night – sleeping up in the reading-room of course. It was all his idea, but Ronnie wasn't complaining. It was choice! Shame he couldn't come and stay every night.

They ate with the family, in the cottage, which was nice of his gran. She didn't understand it either, but she knew that Boy didn't like being down in the underground rooms. After dinner, they went for a wander up and down the main street, and then went up-top, stripped their clothes off and slid into bed together. It was a great night – the best ever. The last ever. Damm.

They woke in the morning, had sex one more time, and then went downstairs to shower and eat breakfast. They walked into the kitchen, Gran looked around and smiled.

“Good morning, Boys. I'm doing pancakes, or trying to anyway. Just take a seat, they're nearly done. Did you sleep well, Boy?”

“Yeah, I did thanks, Mrs. Martin. It's a lot quieter here than it is at home.”

“Well, good. What's the weather like up top?”

“It's pissing down out there.” Ronnie answered.

“Watch the language, Ronnie. You know I don't like you talking like that. Why can't you just say that it's raining?”

“It's more than raining, Gran. It's hosing down out there. We're going to get soaked on our way to school.”

“Not necessarilly. I'm going to the Home to see my mother this morning, I'll drive you all to school if you like.”

“Oh, yeah, we'd like that! Thanks, Gran.”

“You're welcome. Are you coming with us, Reggie?”

“No. I'll just walk, get cold and wet and catch a cold and maybe even the flu and spend the rest of the week in bed, sick.”

“Really?”

“No, not really. Of course I'm coming. Don't ask silly questions, Gran.”

“Smartie-Pants. Be careful or you will be walking.”

“Right. Love you, Gran.”

“You'd better!”

Lunchtime at school, Ronnie and Boy sat on the covered verandah outside the library, it was sheltered there and out of the wind. Only trouble was, about a dozen others were there as well. Ronnie did his best to ignore all of the others, but it wasn't easy because people kept talking to them. A couple of Boy's girl cousins and, over and over, kept chanting, “Hey Boy! Told him yet?”

“No! Not yet.”

“Oh? Hey Boy! Told him yet?”

“Shut up, Queenie. I'll tell him when I'm ready.”

“Better hurry or you'll be too late. Hey Boy! Told him yet?”

“Maybe you'd better tell me whatever it is,” Ronnie grinned.

“'Kay, I'll tell you. We're moving.”

“Oh? Where are we moving to? Not out in the rain, I hope.”

No, Ronnie. Not us, you and me, but us all the family and me – we're moving. We're going tomorrow.”

“Where are you moving to?”

“Patamahoe.”

“Patamahoe? Where is that? Never heard of it.”

“Damm, you're an ignorant honky! It's a small place, south of Auckland. It's where our family are from. Koru has decided that he's dying, so he wants to go home and be buried on the marae with the ancestors.”

“And you're all going?”

“Of course. Koru won't go on his own. He wants his whanau with him.”

“Fair enough, I guess. But you're going tomorrow? That doesn't give us much time. How long have you known and why didn't you tell me?”

“He decided last Saturday and I didn't want to upset you any sooner than I had to.”

“Thanks, I think. So you knew before you came around to mine on Saturday?”

“I knew. That's why I came. I always knew we were going to do it one day, so we did before it was too late.”

“Damm! Well, at least we did it. Thanks, Boy.”

“Thank you. I'm glad we did too.”

“You're going tomorrow? When will you be coming back?”

“Umm – we won't be back.”

“You won't? Not ever??”

“Probably not. We're going home, back to where we belong.”

“You don't belong here?”

“No, I never did. Ronnie, I've got no choice. The family are all going so I have to go with them.”

“Shit! I wish you didn't.”

“I wish I didn't too, but I have to.”

“I guess. It's goodbye then?”

“It's goodbye tomorrow. We've got tonight and that's all.”

“We've got tonight? Know what? We have not got tonight, you can fuck off! We've got nothing!”

Red in the face and insanely angry now, though he was not quite sure who he was angry at, Ronnie yelled as he rose to his feet not caring who was looking at them.

Boy stood up to face him. “Ronnie, don't. What're you mad at me for? It wasn't my idea.”

“Yeah? Whose idea was it not to tell me. Damm it, Boy. You've known all bloody week. What were you going to do, leave and not tell me at all?”

“I was not. I was going to tell you but I knew you'd be upset, so I kept putting it off.”

“I'm upset! Why aren't you too? Don't you even care?”

“Of course I care. Settle down, you'll blow a fuse.”

“And that's how much you care – not much. Fuck you, Manawatu. Fuck you and fuck the horse you rode in on!”

Ronnie stormed away and left him there. He walked straight out of the school and went home in the rain. Oh joy! His life sucked. He was, kind-of, hoping that Boy would come running after him, but he didn't.

Yeah, he should've known that Boy wouldn't come crawling, he wouldn't do that, it wasn't in his nature. Well, he wasn't crawling to him either. Fuck him.

Boy didn't come around after school either, or that night. Ronnie slept up in the reading-room in case he showed up, but he didn't.

Next was a brilliantly fine day. Ronnie walked to school, alone as usual, Reggie was busy somewhere else. There were a lot of missing faces at school. As the morning went on, Ronnie realised that not only was Boy not there, none of his family were either.

So they really were going. He believed Boy when he said they were, but it was different to have it confirmed.

He didn't go back into class after lunch. It didn't look like Boy was coming to say goodbye, so he'd better go to him before it was too late.

It was too late. When he got there, there was no-one there, the house was empty. They'd gone. Boy had left without even saying goodbye. Screw him anyway.

That was the end of his first relationship – nice while it lasted. Was it worth it? No, not really.

Gimme Shelter, 6

So Boy's brother had been forcing him to have sex with him? That's not nice, but – lucky brother! Ronnie would've loved to do that stuff with him, to touch him, hold him and cuddle him, to kiss him and peel off his clothes and do whatever else it was that people did together, when they did sex stuff.

It happened, he knew that. Lots of people did stuff together; he just didn't know much about it really. Mostly, he'd just like to get as close as possible to him. He'd get inside his skin if he could, but only if he wanted to. He wouldn't force him or anything, he wouldn't do that to Boy.

He wanted this beautiful boy to love him. How was he going to tell him that? He hadn't a clue. There was no way of telling it, of course, but Boy was feeling exactly the same way about him. They were both a bit whakama, so they both sat smiling quietly and just delighting in being with each other.

Boy really was a beautiful boy. He was 100% gorgeous. He had medium-length, dark-brown, almost black, hair with big sweeping curls in it. His eyes were brown, big warm and soft and perfect, totally flawless and hairless golden-brown skin.

He was long and lean and kind-of elegant. His butt, when he saw it, and Ronnie certainly looked, was high and firm, small, shapely and a little protruding. It was pert and perfect. When he walked, he almost bounced, like he was walking on springs, he was that full of life and energy.

Apart from his warm, rich, colouring, the only obviously 'maori' thing about his features was his mouth – thick, dark-red lips, usually parted in a smile. His infectious smile was his best feature.

Boy was also looking at a beautiful boy, slight build, dark hair and dark eyes with fresh-faced porcelain skin. He was a cute kid, but maybe a bit pale, like he needed to get out more. The wire-rimmed glasses didn't spoil his looks at all, they made him look studious and intelligent.

They both sat looking and grinninmg at each other, both thinking, 'Beautiful boy!' They didn't say it out loud, of course, but if they had they would've slapped hands and cried, “Snap!”

“So. Umm.” Ronnie was starting to feel a bit awkward, like he had to do something to entertain his guest so he'd want to stay a while and come back another time. “This is good.”

“Yeah, it's good,” Boy grinned back. “What d'you want to do?”

“We could go down and see the trains.”

“The little toy trains? Whose are they again?”

“They're models – toys for big boys. They're Dad's trains really, but we're allowed to work them. There's a big room full of them with little houses and cars, streets and everything. They are downstairs.”

“Down underground?”

“Well, yeah, kind-of. You have to come and see.”

“Yeah, some other time I might. This is nice, being up here. Can we sit in the window and watch the street?”

“Sure we can. Do you want a coke?”

“The coke is downstairs, isn't it? No, I don't want a coke, thanks. Let's just sit and talk.”

“Okay. Talk about what?”

“Anything!”

They sat together in the open window, with their legs hanging out in the sunshine, looking down over the front street.

“Those books,” Boy asked. “Any dirty ones amongst them?”

“Dirty ones?”

“Yeah, you know – nude pictures and stuff.”

“No there's not!” Ronnie laughed. “There's nothing like that, not likely! It was a public lending library.”

“Public? I thought you said it was private?”

“Well, yeah it was owned privately, but they were rented out to the public. That's how the guy made his living. There's no nudie magazines or anything; it was a long time ago and they wouldn't have been allowed.”

“Shame. I bet they would've been popular.”

“Yeah, probably, with some people, but they would've been illegal way back then, he would have got shut down.”

“Hell, if I had a library, I'd have lots of pornos and make a fortune from horny kids.”

“You might, but you'd be in huge trouble if you got caught.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Still a shame though. I suppose they'd all be old ladies anyway and – eww!”

“They'd be old ladies by now and, yeah, eww!”

“Is there any nudist club magazines? They've been around forever.”

“I think they have, but I haven't got any. They'd be all tits and front-bums anyway – doesn't interest me.”

“Yeah, me either. Eww!”

“Yeah, eww.”

They sat and talked for hours, watching the day slide into night. Ronnie was as happy as he'd ever been in his life. They lived in different worlds and had next to nothing in common, but it didn't matter. He really, really liked this boy and he knew that he liked him too. It'd be great if they were to have sex together, he'd love it! But if they didn't, it didn't matter, (much). He'd still be happy to just be with him.

Their idyllic time together ended with a pounding on the door and Reggie burst into the room.

“You are here. I knew you would be. Why isn't the intercom turned on?”

“Is it off? Sorry, I didn't know. Do you know Boy? Boy, my brother, Reggie.”

“Hey Reggie,” Boy smiled.

“Boy Manawatu, right? Hey Boy. Ronnie has to come for dinner before Gran explodes. Do you want to come and eat with us?”

“Thanks, but no. Some other time, maybe. I'd better get home, I should've been there ages ago and they'll be looking for me, so I'd better go. Thanks, Ronnie. I've had a great day.”

“Thank you and me too. When can we do it again?”

“If I can get away, I'll come back tomorrow, but I might not. There's lots of family around but they're all on the booze and someone's got to watch the little kids and make sure they don't get into trouble.”

“Well, yeah. Great if you can, but don't worry if you can't and I'll see you at school. I'll be up here tomorrow and I'll leave the street door unlocked, okay?”

“Yeah, good. See you, Ronnie. 'Bye, Reggie.”

Boy came back again the next day. He was early arriving, so early that Ronnie hadn't even come up yet. When he did he was delighted to see Boy already there waiting for him.

They spent the rest of the day sitting in the reading-room, talking about everything and anything, almost. They were both at the age when sex is supremely important for the first time. They were attracted to each other but too shy to talk about it. They both wanted to but didn't know how to begin, so they didn't.

Almost anything else was open for discussion including the hundreds of books that Ronnie wanted to share with his new friend. In the days that followed, and right through the winter school holidays, most of their free time was spent together, mostly up in the reading room but sometimes out walking and fishing off the wharf. (They never actually caught any fish but they drowned a few worms).

When Ronnie finally persuaded Boy to come and see the rooms downstairs he went, reluctantly, looked and wanted out. Not even the trains could get him to stay for long. He agreed that the rooms were all very cool, especially the enormous living-room, he just didn't like being underground. He'd never be a miner, no matter how well it paid.

Ronnie tried to tell him that the rooms were as safe as any others, but he wasn't buying it. There was no logic in it, he just felt like he was buried alive down there and didn't like it one little bit.

Boy slept over on a few nights, but they slept on cushions in the reading-room. Ronnie was too shy to sleep-over at Boy's house, but he ate there a couple of times. The people there made him welcome, well, some of them did, most of them ignored him, kind-of. Carrie's parents, (and they looked far too young to be her mum and dad), were real nice to him and couldn't stop thanking him for saving their girl. So that was good.

Boy's Koru, his grandfather, was just a little old man but there was something impressive about him. He was very much the head of the family and his word was law. Impressive.

Gimme Shelter, 5

Later in the evening, after dinner but still before dark, Ronnie was sprawled on the couch up in his reading room with his nose in a book.

“Ronnie, you there?” Reggie called on the intercom.

“I'm here. Where else would I be?”

“Well, good! There's a kid here at the cottage door, he wants to talk to you.”

“Someone wants to talk? Who is it? What does he want?”

“Come down and find out. I dunno what he wants. It's just some maori kid, I don't know his name.”

“A maori kid? Tell him to fuck off! I've had enough of them for one day and I've got nothing to say to any of them.”

“All right, I'll tell him but you're being a bit harsh, he came to talk to you.”

“Probably just wants to swear at me. Thanks but no thanks. 'Bye Reggie.”

In a couple of minutes, Reggie called again.”Ronnie? He says please come down, he wants to thank you for what you did.”

“Whatever. I'm not. 'Bye.”

“Please yourself. You usually do.”

Ronnie turned the intercom off. He really had had enough of those people. He tried to help and all he got was abuse. They were all the same, they were clannish, stuck together and shut everyone else out. Whatever! He was having no more to do with any of them.

He still had to stand up on a chair and have a look out of the side-window though. From there he could see right along the front street and, he wasn't talking to him but he still wanted to know which one it was who'd come to see him.

A figure came around the corner from the side street where the cottage was and, Wow! It was Boy Manawatu.

That was different. He'd talk to Boy anyday, he wasn't like all the others. Maybe he wasn't even related? No, he must be. He ran downstairs and opened the front door of the shop before Boy came along past there.

When he did, Boy looked at him, puzzedly.

“Hey Boy!”

“Hey Ronnie. Thought you didn't want to talk to me?”
 
“I didn't know it was you, I thought it was one of that other lot."
 
“One of my cousins? Yeah, I don't blame you. I wouldn't either, but I have to sometimes."
 
“Yeah? Lucky you.”
 
"You think? Ronnie, I'm sorry about the cousins, they're a pack of idiots. I think they're ashamed that they did nothing and you had to save Carrie. It was a really good thing you did. She would've drowned but she didn't because you saved her. You saved her life! Thanks. You're a good guy."
 
“I'm not you know.”
 
“Yeah, you are.”
 
“Wrong! I was just there, I saw her fall in and I had to do something. No-one else was, so I did. Not a big deal.”
 
“Wrong yourself. It is a big deal – a really big deal. Carrie would've drowned.”
 
“Someone would've done something.”
 
“Someone did – you did and thanks.”
 
“Yeah, well. Thanks for coming around, I feel a whole lot better about the whole thing now. Do you want to come in?”
 
“Come in?”
 
“Yeah. Come up and see my room.”

Ronnie led the way up the old stairs. “Do you like books?”

“Sometimes, yes”.

“Wait 'til you see what I've got!”

“You got around here quick,” Boy commented.

“Around here? I was already here.”

"But didn't your brother call you in your room when I was at the door around in the other street?”

“Oh, I see. Yeah he did. He called me on the intercom, it's connected to my reading room up here and I've been here for hours.”

“The intercom is connected from the other building?”

“It is. It's all one building really, they're joined together.”

“No they're not. Reggie was in the yellow cottage in the other street, you're here in this old shop in the main street.”

“They're connected underground.”

“There's tunnels?”

“Well, corridors. Most of our home is underground, it's an old air-raid shelter.”

“And you live down there? Yuck!”

“It's not yuck, it's great. It's all lined and furnished and evereything. It's like a big house, but it's all underground so there's no windows. It's really cool. Well, not cool, it's quite warm actually, but it's a great home.”

“If you say so. I wouldn't like it – living down in tunnels like a worm or something. Still, you have got this place. A very cool old shop. Why don't you just live up here?”

“It's too small and it's exposed to the weather and everything. It's way better downstairs, warm and dry and lots of space. People did use to live up here, in the old days. This was the kitchen, bathroom is through there and the toilet back there. That was their living-room, Gran uses it for a sewing-room, and there was two bedrooms at the front. Reggie has that one for whatever he does in there and this one is my reading-room. I like to sit up here and read in the daylight and there's a great view down over the main street.”

“Yeah. You've got a view over the rough end of town. Whoah! You've got a lot of books!”

“These are just some of them,” Ronnie grinned proudly. “There's a whole room full of books downstairs at the back. There used to be a private lending-library here, a long time ago. There's hundreds of books, they're old but there's some great stuff amongst them. They're all mine now, no-one else is interested.”

“I'm not surprised, but pretty cool, I guess, if you're into books. I'd rather watch a DVD.”

“You're not a reader then? I'd rather have a good book any day. When you read you make up your own movie in your head.”

“Good for you. I watch real ones.”

“They're just someone else's idea of what a story looks like.”

“Yeah, okay. So who all lives here? You, your brother and your gran, anyone else?”

“Yes, there's Dad. He's got his workshop around in Adderson Street.”

“Is that connected to the tunnels as well?”

“Well it was. It was built on top of one of the entrances.”

“Hells Bells! It must be a big place down there.”

“Biggish. Do you want to come and have a look? I'll show you around.”

“No thanks. Some other time, maybe. I'd hate to live down there, I'd never sleep.”

“”It's not that bad. It's just like any house except there's no windows – like any house is at nighttime.”

“It'd be nighttime all the time down there. That's just weird. What if it caves in on you?”

“That's not going to happen, it's as solid as a rock. It was built for air-raids during the war. Bombs wouldn't collapse it so nothing else will.”

“Still could happen. What if there's an earthquake?”

“Hasn't happened yet.”

“But it could. It could happen today.”

“I guess. A Quake that big would probably knock your house down as well.”

“Maybe, but at least we wouldn't be buried.”

“You will be if it kills you, if you're not cremated.”

“Earthquakes don't kill people.”

“If they're big enough they do.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“So how many people live in your house?”

“Seven, sort of. There's Koru, Mum and Dad, my 3 brothers and me, but there's usually other people staying as well. We've got lots of whanau and they come and go all of the time.”

“A busy house.”

“Yeah, way too busy sometimes. You're lucky having all of this space to yourself.”

“I suppose so. I've never known any different. Do you get a room to yourself?” Ronnie sat down on the old sofa.

Boy sat next to him. “A room to myself, not likely! I don't even get a bed to myself.”

“You share a bed? Who do you sleep with?”

“With my brothers usually, but sometimes with cousins too. It's bad enough with my little brother, Rangi, snoring and farting all night. Tane's worse, he always wants to do sex stuff.”

“You don't want to do that?”

“I don't. I'm sick of it. Bigger boys have been pushing me around for years, well I'm bigger now and I've had enough of it.”

“You're not going to do it anymore?”

Ronnie was confused. How could anyone who'd been having sex not want to do it again?

“Maybe, but not with him. He's my brother, he's too big and too rough. All he wants is to get his rocks off and he doesn't think about me at all.”

“And you don't want to get your rocks off?”

“With the right person I would, just not with Tane.”

“Oh? Who would the right person be?”

“Well, umm – you maybe.” Boy blushed! Ronnie didn't know that maori kids could blush.

“Me?” He grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. If you wanted to, I would.”

“Wow! Damm right I want to!”

“I knew it,” Boy grinned back. He kissed him.

Gimme Shelter, 4

Saturday morning, at breakfast, the boys' grandmother told them both that it was about time they got outside in the sunshine. “We've had so many cloudy days lately ands it's glorious out there today. Go out and make the most of it. You need sunshine sometimes.”

“No probs, Gran,” Reggie replied. “I'm going body-boarding. Russ and Terry are coming and we're going out to the South Beach.”

“Fine, Reggie. Are you going with them, Ronnie?”

“With that lot? I don't think so! No, I'll just go fishing over at the wharf.”

“Okay. Don't fall in and if you catch any you're cooking them.”

“I'll try not to then.”

Ronnie went fishing in his usual way. Fishing to him meant sitting on the wharf, dropping a line in the water and holding it with his legs while he read a book. He would've been just as happy without the line, but it was an excuse for sitting there. Gran thought that he was doing something when all he'd really done was to relocate his book, so that was good.

He sat and enjoyed the sun, the warmth and the fresh air and his story. A few people wandered past. Sunshine always brings them out, especially after long wet spells. A group of kids came along, 4 boys and 2 girls, all maori.

Ronnie stopped reading and studied them in case Boy was with them. He wasn't, these were younger kids, about 10 or 11 years old. He looked back at his book.

“Cut it out, Tommo. You have to let us come with you, you know you do!” a girl yelled at one of the boys.

“I don't hafta do nothing!” he replied. “Go home, Liz.”

“I'm not going home. We're coming with you.”

“You're not.”

“We are!”

“Shove off, Liz.”

Tommo pushed her, she staggered back, bumped into the other girl who reeled, tripped on the beam along the edge, and fell off the wharf and into the river. Her scream cut when she disappeared underwater.

Shocked, Ronnie rose to his feet, looking at the kids. They weren't doing anything, just standing there like statues.

“Ohmigod! Do something, Wankers!” Liz screamed.

They still weren't moving. Someone had to do something, so Ronnie did – he dived off the wharf.

The dirty green water closed over him and it got darker as he kept going down. It was really hard to see anything and he was about to give up and go back for a breath when he saw her. He nearly missed her. Her dark hair and skin didn't stand out at all in the gloom below the wharf, but her clothes did. She was wearing pale-blue shorts and a pink, yellow and white t-shirt that stood out like a neon light. She wasn't moving. Surely not dead?

He swam over for a closer look. She was caught in some driftwood rubbish lodged against a wharf-pile. He pulled frantically at the sticks. Some came free, and then he was able to push her leg down and free her. He grabbed her by the waist and kicked for the surface.

His head broke into the air and he gasped for breatrh. At last! It must've been even worse for her. The girl was still – unconscious? That wasn't good.

There was a rough wooden platform suspended on the wharf plies, just above the water-line, and a second one under the surface. Thank goodness for the whitebaiters! He crawled up out of the water, dragging the limp girl with him.

He rolled her on to her side and opened her mouth, and then on to her back. Holding her nose closed, he breathed hard into her mouth, inflating her lungs. They'd been taught mouth-to-mouth resusitation at school. He'd never expected to have to use it but he was glad that he'd been paying attention that day. (He didn't always!)

Seconds seemed like hours, but he kept at it, forcing her to breath, blowing into her mouth and doing it for her. He'd almost decided that it was hopeless and he was about to give up when, like an engine firing, she suddenly coughed into life.

Talk about relief. He'd never been so pleased in his life!

“Carrie! Carrie!” The sounds of the world came back, the other girl was screaming up on the wharf.

“It's all right,” he gasped. “She's okay, I've got her.”

“Carrie!”

A boy dived off the wharf, burst back to the surface and crawled up to join them on the platform. The other kids all came chattering down a ladder at the back.

The girl, Carrie, grabbed the first boy to arrive and sobbed over his shoulder. He glared at Ronnie like he'd done something wrong.

“She's okay, I think. We have to get her up top and warm her up or something. I'll go and get a blanket.” Ronnie started up the ladder.

“Think you're a big hero, don'tcha?” a boy sneered. “You can fuck off. We don't need you, we look after our own.”

“Yeah, fuck off, Big Man,” a second one agreed. “We don't need you.”

“Aunty's coming. She's got her car,” trhe other girl cried.

“Well, umm, I'll get that blanket.” Ronnie started up the ladder.

“Fuck off with your blanket. We don't want it. Mind your own.”

Ronnie rushed to the top and over the road to his house, his head spinning. He didn't know what he'd expected, but not this. He wasn't looking for a medal, he just wanted to do the right thing, to do what was right, but not to get abused for it. Screw them anyway!

He ran into home, downstairs and pulled an old blanket out from the linen cupboard. He bundled it up and started back to the wharf. The other kids were emerging from the trap-door. He shook the blanket out and put it around the crying girl.

One of the boys pushed him away. “Fuck off. Leave her alone!”

“I'm just trying to help.”

“Okay, you did. Now go away or I'll do ya”

“Bring her over to our place. The fire's going there.”

“Go sit on it then. We don't need you. Aunty's here.”

A car pulled up, the kids all piled in and it roared away leaving Ronnie standing alone and feeling a bit dazed.

“That's gratitude? Some bastard could've at least said thanks. Bloody Maoris! Screw them anyway.”

He found his book and went home. In the down-stairs bathroom, he stripped his wet clothes off, leaving them carefully on the floor, dried himself and went to his room for dry clothes. He felt cold all over! He wrapped-up in the duvet off his bed and went up to sit by the fire.

His gran looked up when he sat down by her. “What's going on? Did you fall in the river?”

“Not exactly. I didn't fall, I jumped off the wharf.”

“Yeah? Why would you do that? That's dangerous.”

“A girl fell in. There was a bunch of kids on the wharf, they were fooling around and she fell off. She didn't come up and nobody was doing anything so I jumped in and pulled her out. I had to give her mouth-to-mouth.”

“You did? Well done! I'm proud of you, Ronnie. Is she all right now?”

“Yeah, I think so. She's walking and everything. A car came and got them and they've gone home.”

“Well that's good. You are a life-saver! I hope they said thank you.”

“They didn't. I wasn't looking for thanks, just as well too because I didn't get any. They all yelled at me like it was all my fault or something.”

“Was it your fault that she fell?”

“No! I was just sitting there, reading. A kid shoved her and she fell in. It was nothing to do with me. I just saved her and got abused for it.”

“They probably didn't know what they were doing, they'd all be in shock. You did the right thing, Ronnie, and good for you. I'm very proud of you.”

“I had to do something.”

“You did well. Stay there and I'll get you a hot drink. Where's your book?”

“I've got it, it's in my room.”

“Good. It'd be no great loss if you lost it, I guess. You've got hundreds of them.”

“I have, but that's the one I'm reading. I haven't finished it yet.”

“That's all good then. Wait there, My Hero.”

Gran made him feel a bit better. She was all right, his gran. Those kids were just jerks. Next time someone fell in, they could get themselves out. He had a drink, and then went back down to his room. He'd had enough of the great outdoors for one day.

However, he did have to go out again later, briefly. Gran was doing pasta for dinner and needed milk, for the sauce. There was no-one else around, Reggie still wasn't back, so he had to go out to get it.

It wasn't far, the supermarket was just around the corner and a couple of blocks up the street. It still took far too long though, the place was packed. When he, finally, came back outside he had to walk past a group of teens who were standing there, hanging-out, looking tough.

Two of them were a couple of the maori boys who were on the wharf earlier on. He kept his mouth shut and looked the other way.

“Think you're so bloody cool, don't you?” One of them sneered.

“Whatever,” he shrugged.

“Fuck off, back to your rat-holes, Big Man.”

“Look,” Ronnie stopped. He'd had about enough of this. “What exactly is your problem? I did nothing to you.”

“Yeah, you did. You made us look bad.”

“I did not! You were doing that yourselves.”

“It was none of your bloody business! No-one asked you to stick your nose in. Next time you can just fuck off and mind your own.”

“Don't worry, I will.” He started walking again.

“See you do, Big Man. No-one needs you.”

“Ain't that the truth,” he sighed. “No-one needs me.” He went home.