Okarito - Jordan & Gene, 2

Then a strange thing happened. Jordan had been waiting for hours, watching the minutes tick past with agonising slowness. Ever since Gene had said that they could 'do stuff' in bed, he'd been longing to get there and do just that.

There was no way that he could concentrate on the old Playstation games that they were playing and Gene cleaned-up, bigtime. All Jordan could think about was how gorgeous the sexy boy beside him was – every last little bit of him! - and what he was going to do with him when they got naked and in bed together.

He didn't know that his dick could stand so rigidly to attention for such a long time.

It happened at last, they slid into bed, stripped their undies off, threw them out and they lay naked, side by side. He knew that he could do, pretty much, everything with Gene, except anal, and – he didn't want to!

His body agreed too – his rampant erection turned into a limp sausage. That was not normal for an ever-horny teenager, and he couldn't understand it.

Gene wasn't helping, he obviously didn't know what was going on any more than Jordan did and he lay there, on his back, like he was waiting for something to happen – and nothing was!

So, why? He didn't know, it just didn't feel right.

“Something wrong, Jordie?”

“Mmm? No, I was just thinking. It's late, Gene. It's late and I'm tired. Let's just go to sleep.” He reached up and turned off the overhead light.

“To sleep? But that's not what you . . . Okay, let's go to sleep. G'night, Jordie.”

“”Nite, Gene.”

They turned on to their sides ands lay back-to-back in the dark, but neither of them was sleepy now. After a couple of minutes, Gene rolled on to his back. “Jordan, what's wrong? Don't you like me or something?”

“Oh, Genie!” Jordan rolled over as well. “Of course I like you, I like you a lot – love you in fact, very, very much.”

“Why don't you want to do the sex stuff with me then?”

“Because, well, because I do love you. Yes, that's it! That's what's wrong here – I do love you and I don't want to make you do anything that you don't want to. You're my mate, my good friend, that's precious and I don't ever want to lose it. You love me too, I know you do and that's why you'd have sex with me even though that's not what you'd really like.”

“Yes, I admit it – you're right. I was only doing it because you wanted to and I do love you – heaps!”

“So – are we okay?”

“Oh, yes! We are very much okay. Now come here and cuddle me because I really do want that.”

“Not a problem.” Jordan rolled onto his side and put an arm across Gene's broad chest. “I totally want that too. Don't stop loving me, Genie.”

“Never! Don't you stop loving me either.”

“Not in this life.”

Arms around each other, they relaxed into sleep.

Gene woke in the morning, he opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Jordan, lying there studying him.” 'Morning. What time is it?”

“Good morning to you, and it's still early – just after 7am. Sleep all right?”

“Idid. How about you?”

“I had a great sleep and now I'm going to have a great day, with my mate. Thanks for coming to see me, Gene.”

“I came because I wanted to see you. Thanks for having me here. What's for breakfast?”

“Whatever we can find, but maybe we'd better put some clothes on first.”

“Sounds good to me. I tried frying sausages in the nuddie once, it was not fun! Never again.”

“Why's that? Did you stick the fork in the wrong sausage?”

“I did not! But fat spits and splutters.”

“Umm, yeah. I think we'll stop talking about that now. So, are we okay, Gerne?”

“We are very okay, Jordie. Better than ever. Now let's see what today brings. You've got a town to show me.”

“Best get moving then.”

They ate – toast, muesli and fruit. Well, you have to eat something healthy, sometimes. They cleaned-up the kitchen, which didn't take long – there was a dishwasher. It was always best not to leave a mess for that bloody Steve to moan about.

There was no-one else around, Sis was still in bed and Jordan's Mum was at work at the Diner, so he locked the door when they left. They walked down the street in the early-morning sunshine.

“It's a nice day. I thought it'd be raining all weekend.”

“Well it's not. You struck it lucky.”

“I did, didn't? It rains a lot here, doesn't it?”

“Way too much,”Jordan sighed. “It doesn't really rain here any more than it does in Brownsville, but when it does, it's hard-out. None of that sissy drizzle stuff that they get in Christchurch.”

“Right!”

“So where do you want to go to?”

“I dunno. You're the boss, we'll go where you want.”

“Oh – okay, back to bed? No? We'll go down to the beach then.”

“Right. Good beach, is it?”

“No, it's crap, more pebbles than anything, but it's famous for the surf and good fishing too – so they say.”

“They say all sorts of things. We're not surfing and we're not fishing, so – of course we'll go to the beach.”

“You see penguins down there sometimes. They're pretty cool.”

“Yeah, you'd like penguins – they're shorter than you are!”

“Zip it, Genie.”

They saw no penguins on the beach, just pictures on signs warning people to keep their dogs away from them. There were some surfers out where the waves were breaking, but they were so far out they were hard to see – just little black-suited figures way out there. There was no-one else on the beach.

They walked all the way along to the rivermouth where the lagoon drained out to the sea. It was hard walking on the loose pebbles but got easier as they went because there was more sand close to the river.

The old town was hardly visible from there, it was mostly hidden behind the scrub at the back of the beach. There was a couple of people with surf-casting rods out, but not much was happening.

The rivermouth was flat and not very wide, but it was way too deep to wade across. So they gave up on that and walked back up to the old wharf.

The river-port was busy once, but it was hardly used anymore, apart from a few small fishing boats. Most of the old wharves had been demolished but there was one small section left and one of the sheds there was being used as an office and reception area for the kayak-hire business.

They both had sand in their shoes, so they sat on a seat outside the wharf-shed to clean them out. A few people were milling around, inside and out, a group of kayaks was coming back in and a couple more were going out.

They sat watching, enviously. One day, they agreed, they'd do that, when they were richer.

A long, squat, broad and dark-coloured boat, something like a covered barge, was coming down the lagoon behind the kayaks coming in.

“Isn't she a beauty?” A teen boy sat on the wharf in front of them.

Jordan had seen this guy around a few times. He was famous in the school because he only turned-up when he felt like it. No-one else would get away with that but this kid did because he was super bright. It seemed like there wasn't much they could teach him anyway.

“Isn't who a beauty?” Gene replied. “Do you mean the boat? Looks pretty ugly to me.”

“Yes the boat. She's called The Lady. She is not ugly, she is a thing of beauty – long, low and elegant and perfect for what she's built for.”

“Oh yeah?” said Jordan. “What was she built for? Scaring the locals?”

“No way,” the boy smiled. “The exact opposite actually. She is designed to get up close to the birds out on the lagoon without scaring them off.”

“Why? Going to eat them?”

“No! We're going to be taking tourists out on sight-seeing trips around the lagoon.”

“Okay. But isn't that what the kayaks are all about?”

“Sort-of, yes. But, in The Lady, they don't have to do any work, they're out of the weather and they'll get a running commentary from the guide.”

“Okay,” Jordan shrugged. “That'd suit the lazy old buggers, I guess. Not as much fun as paddling yourself though.”

“Maybe not, if you're fit and strong. Not everybody is. Anyway, it's a new venture for the Kayak Kompany. We're launching it next weekend. Today we're just trying her out – sorting out the routes, times and turning points and so on. She'll be going out again in a few minutes, would you two like to come for a ride?”

“Yeah, right! Like we can afford that!” Jordan scoffed.

“Jordie's right,” Gene nodded. “It looks like fun, but we're just schoolkids. We can't afford that.”

“There's no charge. I'm offering you a ride for free. So, do you want to? It'll take a couple of hours.”

“Don't think so,” said Gene. “Thanks but no thanks.”

“No? Why not? It's perfectly safe. If The Lady did sink, which she's not going to, the water is so shallow, she could sit on the bottom and the roof would be high and dry. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Yeah, c'mon, Genie. Don't be a wuss!” said Jordan.

“I'm not a wuss! That's not what worries me.”

“What then?”

“When something looks too good to be true, then it probably is too good to be true. Why would a total stranger offer us a ride on his boat for free? All seems a bit too suss to me.”

“Hey!” the boy laughed. “I'm not suss. My sister's piloting the boat and there'll be about a dozen more people on board.”

“Why are you offering us a ride then?”

“To fill up some seats. A photographer's coming out to take some shots for publicity brochures and stuff. You're a couple of good-looking kids, especially Blondie here, and you'll make our adverts look good. All you've got to do is sit there and smile and wave. You get a free trip. What do you say?”

“Free sounds good,” Jordan nodded. “Seems legit, Gene. They just pictures of your handsomeness.”

“You want to do it, don't you? Okay then, we will, but there'll be no taking off of clothes or anything like that.”

“Of course not. That's not what we're doing. Anyway, have a look at some of these people here – that'd be disgusting!”

Jordan looked at the group, milling around and waiting for the boat to come in. Some were old and wrinkly, some were real fatties. One kid, about 8 or 9 years old, was a right little blimp! “You got that right,” he grinned. “Clothes are good.”

“Sometimes they're real good,” the boy agreed. “I'm Bevan, by the way. I've seen you around, you're new in the school. Who's your mate?”

“This is Gene. He lives in Brownsville, where I used to live in the good old days. I'm Jordan.”

“Okay. Hey, Gene and Jordan. Here's The Lady now. Jump in and take a seat. Sit near the back, if you can. You'll be closer to the camera there.”

Bevan went off to talk to some more people who'd just got out of their cars.

“Busy place,” said Gene. “Didn't you say that this is a new business?

“I did. They must be doing all right if they're expanding already, they've only been going a few weeks.”

“Yeah, they must be. Let's get on board then.”

It was a good way to pass a couple of hours, having lots of photographs taken of them and being informed and entertained by the girl called Cassie as they cruised around the lagoon and into primeval rivermouths. Out on the water, the lagoon looked even bigger than it did from the shore.

It was almost lunchtime when they got back to the wharf and Jordan led the way downtown. “Hungry yet, Genie?”

“Hungry enough. This is the way we went last night. Have you got more vouchers for pizzas?”

“Nope, they've all gone. Sally kept the lot of them.”

“Where are we going then? I could buy something, I've got some money.”

“No need. We'll go and see Kim, he lives in the pub where the pizza place is.”

“Right. We're not scrounging for food, are we?”

“No, we won't have to. Wait and see, Mrs Springer tries to feed me something every time she sees me. She thinks I'm too little and Mum must be starving me.”

“But she's not. You eat heaps – more than me, probably.”

“Probably. I need it for the energy. Mrs Springer's trying to fatten me up.”

“Oh? For Christmas, like a turkey?”

“No. I'm not a pig either – Don't say it! Mr Springer is a big guy and she's not little and she thinks that everybody should be like them. Except for Miss Clayton of course. She's a skinny little thing and no-one's trying to fatten her up.”

“Why not?”

“Because she's Miss Clayton – you'll see. So, there y'go – Okarito in the sunshine. Have a good look, it's not often like this.”

“Looks good in the sun.”

“Better from a distance – the more distant the better. In this way now.” He walked through the open front-door of a hotel. They went down the hall to the owner's flat at the back.

“Oh, hello Jordan.” Mrs Harrison looked out when he knocked on the door. She had her painting overalls on again. “You're looking for Kim? He doesn't live here anymore.”

“He doesn't? Have you kicked him out, Mrs H?”

“No,” she smiled. “Not yet. He's moved back up to his room on the third floor, much to his delight. You know where that is, don't you?”

“Sure do. So he's up there now? Thanks, Mrs H. Come on Gene, this way now. Oh yeah – Mrs H., this is my mate, Gene, from back home. Gene, Mrs H., she's Kim's mother.”

“Hello, Gene.”

“Hey, Mrs H. I, umm . . gotta go I think!”

Jordan was already on his way up the stairs. Kim was coming down, he met them at the foot of the top flight. “Hey, Jordo. Up to?”

“Not much. We're bored, so we thought we'd come and see you.”

“To use Mrs Brown's catchphrase – 'that's nice.'” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JddNDtC-Yrs )

“You're learning! Will you be going back up again?”

“Later, yeah.”

“We'll wait for you. We'll go and admire the view from the balcony up the top.”

“No, don't do that. Come down and say hello to Mrs Springer. You know you want to.”

With his most innocent look, Jordan said, “Oh? Is it lunchtime?”

“You know it is!” Kim grinned. “Come on, then she won't try to make me eat everything. Hey, Gene. Keeping Jordo in line, are you?”

“Hey, Kim. Not a chance.”

“He's not gay, Kimbo. Don't go getting your hopes up.”

Together, Kim and Gene said “Shut up/Zip it, Jordo/Jordie!”

Okarito - Jordan & Gene

Jordan Houston – Granny Panties!!!

Ashton Morris - New style, Jordie?

Jordan Houston – No! I saw them when walking home from school.

Gene Crestani - And you thought ud like some?

Jordan Houston – Not really. I just posted the pic so you guys'd have something to Fap to.

Lucas Breene – Oh Yes! Fap O'Clock!

Jordan Houston – Lol!

The Cat – That's disgusting. Pull your pants up. You're all totally gross! Don't you ever think of anything else?

Ashton Morris – Not at Fap O'Clock.

Lucas Breene – Show us your panties, Cat!

The Cat – In your dreams, Little Boy.

Ashton Morris – You're always in my dreams, Cat.

Gene Crestani – Nightmares, more likely.

The Cat – Watch it, Genie – I know where you live!

Gene Crestani - *is scared now*

Jordan Houston – Love you, Cat

The Cat - Love you too, Jordie.



Jordan settled in to his new life in his new town, kind of. It was not where he'd rather be, but it was where he was, for now. He tried to make the most of it.

His new school was okay and he made some friends there. They were all right, especially Bonnie, she was a good guy, but they were not the Tight Five. He missed those guys so much! He even missed Mr. E, no teachers in Okarito were as classy as him.

He was on-line, every chance he got, talking to his friends on Skype and on Facebook. Which was good, but not as good as being there would.

He'd even found someone to make music with. Kim Harrison was an amazing muso and a good guy too, but he was a bit of a kid. He was only year 9. Jordan was in year 10 and Bonnie in year 11 – there's kudos in hanging out with older kids, but not with year 9's.

Anyway, lately, every time he saw Kim he was with Jethro, the Dog Boy. They were as thick as thieves, but Jethro was not much into music. Kim was trying to teach him guitar, but he was hopeless. He was so bad he made Jordan look good, and that's bad!

His mum said that, given time, he'd learn to like Okarito and he'd forget all about Brownsville. Like that was going to happen? Brownsville was home and that's where he wanted to be. (“Know why Okarito starts and finishes with an 'o'? It's like a picture of what it is – a shithole!”)

Bonnie growled every time he said that. It was her hometown he was talking about! Well, it wasn't his and he'd be outta there and back where he should be, just as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, his mother wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.Amazingly enough, she liked it there. Also, even more amazingly, she liked that bloody Steve too. It wasn't all beer and skittles, they had their moments, but mostly they were getting on like a house on fire.

Sometimes they were all lovey-dovey, like a couple of love-struck teenagers. That was gross! Jordan almost preferred it when they were fighting, as long as that bloody Steve stayed away from him. Which he did, mostly.

He didn't know what his mother saw in the creep – he must have a big dick or something. 'Eww, Eww, Eww!! Think about something else – right now!'

The best thing about that bloody Steve was that he was not always there. He was a truck driver and he had to work long hours because his basic pay rate was stink. So, he was away a lot and that was good.

There was no WiFi in the house and they weren't getting it because, apparently, they weren't rich. He had to use the PC in the living room for his computer time, which was a pain. It could be worse, at least they weren't on dial-up. Bonnie was and that was primitive. He didn't know how she lived with that, but she had to so she did.

So, he'd been there, in Oka - bloody- rito, and he'd survived for two long months when, finally, he got some news and it was excellent! Gene was coming to see him and he'd be staying for almost a whole weekend. Choice!

Jordan hadn't been this excited since, well, since the last time. But it was way good – he couldn't wait!

Gene's message said that his mum and her sister were going down to Haast and they could drop him off on the way through, about 6pm on Friday, and pick him up again late Sunday afternoon. Was that all right with Jordie and could he stay at his? He couldn't afford a hotel or anything.

Jordan replied, of course it was all right with him. It'd be great! His mum said that Gene was welcome to stay, they'd fit him in somewhere. How did he feel about sleeping in the bathtub?

Gene said, “What??”

Jordan said, “Joking.”

They were late. It was nearer to 7 than 6 o'clock by the time Gene's mother's car appeared. Jordan was standing, waiting, at the corner of Victoria and Wharf Streets, near where the kayaks could be hired for going out on the lagoon. One day, he was going to do that, when he could afford it. They weren't cheap, but people said they were well worth it.

It was getting dark and he was getting worried by the time they arrived – well, woman drivers! But it was okay, this time.

Gene poured out of the back seat and grinned at him. “Hey, Jordie.” He was nearly knocked over when Jordan flew at him and hugged him.

“Whoah, Jordie! Settle.” He laughed, lifted him off his feet and swung him around as he bear-hugged him back.

“Genie! Oh, Gene, it's so great to see you!”

“Good to see you too. Say hello to Mum while I get my bag out of the back.”

They said hello and goodbye and the car turned around and left with a 'toot' – they were in a hurry now.

“So here I am. Is your house far away?”

“It's not. Nothing's far around here, but I thought we could go and eat first. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Haven't you got any food at home?

“Course we have. We've always got heaps. Mum works the morning shift at the Diner and she brings the leftovers home. But I thought I'd buy dinner to celebrate.”

“A party for two, is it?”

“Something like that, yeah. There's a new pizza place just opened in a pub down the main street and I've got vouchers for their opening specials.”

They started walking.

“Good old, Jordan – as cheap as ever.”

“That's me!” Jordan grinned. “I've got extra vouchers too because the owners are friends of mine. Well,. Their son is, so that's the same thing, nearly.”

“The son of owners of pizzas and a pub? I thought you had no friends around here.”

“I've got a couple. Not as good as my old ones though.”

“Yeah! What can I say? We're the best!”

“You are – the best ever. Love you, Genie.”

“Love you too. What's that smell?”

“Smell?”

“Yeah. Can I smell the sea?”

“Probably. It's just over there. Most of the older buildings on the main street are on the left of the road because they were right by the beach when the town first started. The land has built up since then, but it's still not far away.”

“Oh. Funny though – I thought it'd smell like something else.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like poos – you did say it's a shithole.”

“It is, but it doesn't smell that bad. That's the Diner there – 'Dinah's Diner', where Mum works.”

“How come we're not eating there then?”

“No vouchers – cheap, remember?”

“I remember. You're nice though.”

“To my best mates I'm nice, if they're nice to me.”

“Always nice to you, Jordie.”

“As you should be. Here's the pub. Told you it wasn't far.”

“You didn't lie.”

“I never do.”

“Liar.”

“Faggot!”

“You wish.”

Jordan did wish, actually. Gene was a great guy, one of his best-ever friends and easily the best-looking boy he'd ever known. The kid was as gorgeous as they get, but not gay, unfortunately. They'd fooled around a bit when they were younger, but Gene had decided that that was not for him. Shame!

They pushed into the brightly-lit and busy cafe. There was a crowd in there, eating at tables and waiting for take-aways. They went up to the counter and Jordan greeted the lady there.

“Hey, Mrs H. Got room for a little one?”

“Hello, Jordan. We've always got room for you,” she smiled.

“That's cool. And Gene too, of course. Are these vouchers still good?”

“For you, they are. Have a seat and someone will come and see you soon.”

“Cheers, Mrs H. C'mon Genie – over there.”

They got seats in a booth by the front window – the previous group were just leaving. There wasn't a lot to see outside, it was dark already, but there were a few cars and people going past. A waitress come over to take their order.

Jordan looked up. “Sally! I didn't know you work here, I thought you worked with Mum, at Dinah's Diner?”

“I do, but that's in the mornings. I work here in the evenings, sometimes.”

And you do a mail-delivery run, and clean at the pre-school. How'm I ever going to get a job when you've got them all?”

“I haven't got all of them. You could get work at the retirement home, washing old people's bums.”

“Eww! Not likely.”

“Stop moaning then. What're you having?”

“What's good?”

“Everything's good.”

“We'll have some of that then.”

“Come on Jordan. Stop mucking around, I'm busy here.”

“Yeah, you are. Okay, I'll have a meat-lovers' pizza, small fries and a large coke. No dessert. How about you, Genie?”

“Sounds good. I'll have the same, thanks. No ice in the coke.”

“Why no ice,” Jordan pondered. “Oh yeah – no ice means more coke. I'll have no ice too, Sall.”

“Right then. A couple of big spenders here.”

“That's us,” Jordan grinned. “Real big.”

“Cute too,” she said, with a second look at Gene. She left.

Jordan said, “I suppose you get that a lot?”

“Get what a lot?”

“Waitresses admiring you.”

“No. I don't see a lot of waitresses.”

“Guess not. But I bet the ones who do see you like what they see!”

“Why would they?”

“Oh, Come on, Gene. Look in a mirror sometime. You're bloody gorgeous, y'know. You were a good-looking kid and just keep getting better and better.”

“You think? You're not too bad yourself, you know.”

“Me? Had your eyes checked lately?”

“Don't need them checked, I can see just fine.”

“So you think. Thanks for coming, Genie – it's so good to have you here. I've missed you.”

“I've missed you too and it's good to be here, Jordie me mate. Ah – pizzas! That was quick.”

Sally laid the food down and took Jordan's handful of vouchers as payment. “Keep the change,” he said loftily.

“What change?” she laughed. “You might still owe us something. I'll let you know.”

“They don't owe anything,” said a voice behind her.

“Says who?” She looked around. “Oh. Says you. Okay, Kim, but you clear it with your mum.”

“I already did, she said it's okay – this once. Hey, Jordan. Good pizza?”

“Excellent pizza, Kimbo. Sit down.”

“Just for a minute. I'm a bit busy.”

Kim sat down and Jordan said, “Gene Crestani, this is my friend, Kim Harrison. He lives here because his parents own the pub. Kim, this is my old friend, Gene, and he's a very cool kid but a crap musician.”

“You'd know what that sounds like. Hey Gene, I've heard lots about you.”

“Not too bad, I hope. Hello, Kimbo,. Want some pizza?”

“No, I do not. Thanks, but I'm sick of the sight of it already! This place is Mum's dream come true, not mine.”

Jordan said, “And what is your dream, Young Kimbo?”

“Well . . I do wish that you'd stop calling me that. My name is Kim.”

“I thought it was actually Kimberley?”

“No, not that either – just Kim.”

“Oh well, Kimbo. It may never happen, but it's good to have a dream.”

“Shut up, Jordo.”

“Oh,” Gene grinned. “I could tell you a name he hates worse than that!”

“You bloody better not or we're not mates!”

“Touchy! Don't worry, I won't do that to you.”

“You'd better not or you'll be sleeping out on the lawn.”

“You wouldn't do that to me.”

“No, of course not. I love you, Genie.”

“Well good! Love you too.”

“Of course. What're you up to, Kim?”

“I'm waiting for Miss Clayton so we can do the music practice. Mum told me that you were here and that I should say hello to you.”

“Do it then.”

“Hello to you.”

“Hello to you too. See why I like this boy, Gene - he's mad.”

“A good match for you then.”

“Ooooh. I'm thinking about that lawn again.”

“Zip it, Jordie.”

They finished there, then strolled down the main street. There was a lot of dark areas where businesses were closed down and boarded up. The brightest area was around the newly-restored Majestic Theater where hundreds of small bulbs on the marquee lit up the night.

They turned off at the end and went back up Palmerston Street to Jordan's house.

“Here it is – nothing special, it's just a house. It keeps the weather out.”

“Looks okay to me. Very tidy.”

“Yeah, it's tidy. Mum never stops tidying and guess who mows the lawns.”

“Surely not you, Wee Jordie?”

“Wrong! I get paid for it though. I wouldn't do it if I didn't.”

“Yeah? You should be doing it for love.”

“Not likely! They are that bloody Steve's lawns and I definitely do not love him! Funny isn't it – how doing something for love means doing it for nothing, zilch, zip and zero? Come on in.”

They went inside and Gene was welcomed by Jordan's mother and sister. That bloody Steve wasn't at home, so that was good. Jordan led the way to his bedroom, out at the back.

“Here's my room – the smallest one in the house, but I've got the biggest bed – go figure. We're sleeping in here.”

“This is good.” Gene dropped his bag on the single mattress on the floor. “So I'll be sleeping down here then.”

The mattress and the queen-size bed filled most of the floor area in the room.

“What? No, I'm sleeping there. You can have the bed.”

“I can not. I'm not putting you out of your bed, Jordie.”

“You're not putting me out. I choose the mattress. You're not sleeping down there, you're the guest here. Besides, the bed's bigger and you need more room than I do.”

“This is insane. All right, there's more than enough room, we'll both sleep in the bed.”

“Together? I don't think so!”

“Why not?” Gene said. “I don't smell, do I? Not much anyway.”

“Why not? I'll show you why not.” Jordan took hold of Gene's arm and pulled him in front of the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door. “Have a good look. That is why we're not sharing the bed.”

Gene shrugged, as he looked at his own reflection. “I don't get it. Something wrong with me?”

“No, there's not and that's the problem. You're gorgeous, Gene, and you've got a perfect body. Dammit, you're just perfect all over.” He tapped his own chest. “Gayboy here, remember? I'd get no sleep, I'd be lying there struggling to keep my hands off you.”

“Why is that such a problem?”

“Because, Gene Genie, you're not gay. I know that and you wouldn't like it. You're not just a major hottie, you're my mate, my very good friend and I don't want to stuff that up.”

“Oh, I see. I think. Well, Midge – Jordan, you are stressing about nothing. We've been there before and it didn't mess up the friendship, did it?”

“No, but it could have. That was ages ago . . . and . . wait a minute! Are you saying that it'd be okay?”

“It would be okay, I think. Seeing as it's you. We could do what feels good – cuddles and shit, but no anal. Okay?”

“Okay?” Jordan beamed. “Hell yes! Cuddles and shit is good! Way good.”

“Well Jordan, we'll see how that goes. Don't you dare tell anyone about this or that will stuff up the friendship. Understood?”

“Jawohl, Mein Fuhreur!” Jordan threw a mock salute, but he couldn't stop grinning. “Want to go to bed now?”

“No, I don't want to go to bed now – it's way too early. Have you got any new games – Playstation games, I mean.”

“No, not new ones,” he shook his dark mop of hair. “But I've got something better.”

“Oh? What's better than new games?”

“Old games! I found my old Playstation 1 and all the games – spiro, crash bandicoot and all that. Fun stuff from way back.”

“Playstation One? The classics! Let's crank that up then.”

They played for a couple of hours, then showered, separately of course, got a drink and a sandwich and went to bed - together!

Charlie

“Evil, evil man!”

Oh yeah? Stupid woman should've minded her own business and stayed the fuck out of his way. Now she knew – interfering old bats got what was coming to them.

Admittedly, the old country pub was not the best place for stair-dancing, it was only two storeys high, but the pickings were so rich! Who could resist?

There really is nothing better than a crowd of middle-class, middle-aged, post children and at the height of their earnings power. When they're together for a boozy weekend away, well – the possibilities are endless.

They tend to be busy having 'fun', besotted all weekend and someone with their wits about them can have a lovely old time. Very profitable it was too.

Sunday morning they were all back down in the public bar, having 'the hair of the dog that bit them' – the world's most effective hangover cure – a couple of drinks and they're drunk again. That suited him because drunks are not careful with their belongings.

The security in the pub was all-but non-existent. Well it used to be – they were probably having another look at their systems by now. As an example, the cleaner's key fitted every lock and opened every door on the second floor. How convenient was that?

It didn't take a minute to lift the keys and unlock some doors while she was down scrubbing the floor in a bathroom. He slipped into an empty room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Wearing gloves was a pain but it had to be done. His fingerprints were all too well-known by the wrong people – the ones in blue uniforms, that is. He took everything worth taking, including a nice fat wallett, and moved on to the next room.

Both he and the dozy cleaner were cleaning the rooms out in their own ways. There is no perfect crime, but this came fairly close. He had one more room to go when she clattered away down the stairs with her trolley. She hadn't seen him and didn't have a clue.

Then it went to crap. A stupid woman came back to the room early and saw him rummaging through her suitcase. He just knew that she was going to start yelling, so he shut her up before she did.

Contrary to popular belief, a good whack over the head does not always result in unconsciousness.
However, it does tend to shut stupid Bints up, especially when followed by a sharp knife brandished in the face.

It worked on this one. She really, really did not want her nostrils enlarged, so she shut up and just whimpered. He tied and gagged her with her own lingerie, stuffed her into the wardrobe and got the hell out of there.

She didn't know who he was or where he was from, but she'd had a good look at his face and the cops knew it, all too well. He'd had a good haul, but now he had to make himself scarce, asap.

He grabbed his bag from his own room, slipped down the fire-escape at the back, smashed a window and hot-wired a car and he was gone. As far as he could tell, no-one had seen him going, but there'd be an uproar before too long. They wouldn't all drink all day.

Last time he did a pub over like this he didn't run but stayed hidden, up above the ceiling until things settled down. Not a good idea and he was never doing that again – staying still and breathing dust and struggling not to sneeze for bloody hours on end!

He headed south, towards Christchurch, for a few minutes, then cut across to a back-road and turned north again. GPS was a great invention – so handy for a man in a hurry.

He ditched the car, literally in a ditch, north of Woodend and walked back to Pegasus. He stole a better car there, from the car-park at the golf course.

Back on the road, he was intending to head back up north, he knew his way around better there than here in the South Island. But, on reflection, he was too well-known up there and too many people had unfinished business with him.

North of Amberley, near Waipara, a secondary road headed west, so he veered off there. The wilds of Westland would be a good place to lie low for a while. He wasn't known over there – yet.

Today's haul wouldn't cause a major melt-down, rooms were robbed and cars were boosted, pretty much everyday, but there was the matter of the boy-whore back in Christchurch. If he was still alive, he'd be a mess and cops tended to get excited about things like that. The Silly Little Tart brought it on himself, but he'd rather not have to try to explain that to a judge. So, west he went.

He went in and had a quick look at Hanmer, but didn't stop there. The small town was full to bursting with tourists, holidaymakers and easy pickings, but it was still too close to where he'd started from. He decided to give it a miss and, maybe, check it out again when he was on his way back up north.

Today it was more important to get lost and stay lost. His pockets weren't exactly empty anyway.

At Springs Junction, the road branched, west to the West Coast and north to Nelson. He filled the car at the service station and made a point of askling the guy there the best way to get to Golden Bay, which was miles away from where he was going.

He left there, going north, stopped and waited for an hour, then followed behind a truck & trailer back to the Junction and turned-off, west. The dork at the garage didn't see him come back through, he thought. He hoped.

He stopped before Riverston and changed his clothes and hairstyle. Police reports describing a wanted person always concentrated on the clothes, so that was easily confused.

He spent a few minutes cruising around Riverston, but decided that the place was just too damm small. A stranger there stuck out like a sore thumb, people were already noticing him, so he bought some food and moved on again.

The cemetery just north of the town was as good a place as any to stop, so he did. He pulled in and parked under the trees there to eat, drink and rest a bit. There was no hurry, he preferred travelling at night anyway.

He scored a purse, a ladies' handbag, from a car left unlocked and unattended, (The Fools!), then left quietly before their loss was discovered. There was nothing much of value in the bag anyway, just a few dollars, which he kept. Everything else was stuffed back in and thrown off a bridge a few kilometers up the road.

He arrived in Westpoint late at night and did his good deed for the day. A drunk came out of one of the many pubs and staggered off up a dark alley to relieve himself. There was no-one else in sight, so he followed him in there and relieved him of his car keys – the man was far too drunk to drive.

He wasn't running a charity, so, as payment for that good deed, he also relieved him of his wallet and loose change. There wasn't a lot of money, the drunken sot had drunk most of it, so he kicked him in the head and left him lying there in his own filth.

He did some after-hours shopping in a bottle store – not too much because that'd get the Pigs too worked up. He just took a couple of whiskies and a pocketful of cigarettes.

He left the door open on the way out – someone else might come in and get blamed for the lot.

He syphoned petrol from a couple of cars and refilled his one, and then left town. It was always good to leave before the excretment hit the circulatory device.

He drove over 100k's and stopped in a rest area south of Brownsville. He finished the bottle of whisky that he'd been sucking on, then curled-up and went to sleep on the back seat.

He slept late in the morning, until the passing traffic woke him, then had a late breakfast, or brunch, in Hoki – fish of course because that's what Hoki is, a fish.

He paid for it in cash, which hurt a bit. It was against his principles to pay for anything. But it was only money and there was plenty more where that came from. He filled the car again, and paid for that too, then headed south again, into the wilds of South Westland.

He was planning on stopping in Franz Josef, a wealthy little tourist town, but there was a little incident and he never got there.

Going down a bush-clad hill, a few k's north of Franz, he was overtaken by another car and a couple of snot-nosed brats in the back of it were laughing and jeering at him. He shouldn't have let it get to him but it did, so he sped up, overtook them and cut them off and drove them off the road and into the scrub. That'd teach the little Shits!

That put paid to his plan for the day. They were sure to go to the cops in Franz Josef and his car was far too obvious now with the dents and scrapes along the side of it. So he turned around and headed back up the road.

He made a sudden decision at the turn-off and went west, down the road to Okarito. A couple of k's before there he went down a bush road to the riverbank and parked there out of sight. He smoked, drank and slept a bit while he waited until after dark.

Before he left to go into the town, he syphoned petrol from the tank, splashed it around and set fire to the car. He walked away, leaving it a raging inferno.

It was the only thing to do, he'd been in it for a couple of days and it'd be full of his fingerprints. The cops would probably be able to identify the ruins, if they tried hard enough, but that wasn't likely. They wouldn't be doing it with the number plates – he'd already removed them and thrown them out into the river. It paid to think ahead, always.

His bag over his shoulder, a bottle of whisky in his coat pocket and another in his hand, he walked off into the night and into Okarito.

Kim & Jethro, 2

(East, West - West's best!)

“That's my sister, Aleysha. The other one is Kaylee, but she's not here.”

Aleysha jumped up. “Yes she is, she's up in our room. I'll go and get her – she has to see this, it's freaky!”

She ran upstairs. Kim shrugged and grimaced. “Sorry. It is amazing though, our faces, I mean.”

“It's amazing,” Jethro smiled. “Maybe you should say 'our face' though – we've only got one between us.”

“Yeah, nearly. I've been thinking about that. Maybe we are related somehow, we must be!”

“Maybe, maybe not. Have you asked your dad if he played around?”

“I did not. I mean, you can't ask that, can you? Have you asked your mum?”

“I did actually. She's still not saying anything and she doesn't believe it about you. She needs to see for herself.”

“That can be arranged. Miss Clayton says that everyone's got a double, maybe it's as simple as that.”

“Could be, possibly. Oh, hello.”

“Oh yeah, this is Kaylee. Kaylee – Jethro.”

“Ohmigosh! I thought Aleysha was having me on, but she's not! Wow. You look just like Kimmy, you poor thing!”

“That's Kim and shut up! I think he's real good-looking actually.”

“Yeah, well you would. Mum's got to see this, I'll get her!” She left running as well.

Kim said, “Sorry about this.”

“'Sokay. You'd probably get the same at our place. The resemblance is pretty cool, eh?”

“It's cool, but weird!”

“Yep, that too.”

“Right then. What is this that I have to see?” Kim's mother walked in the door and looked at Jethro who was across the room, facing her. Kim was sitting with his back to the door. He looked around and grinned. She looked from one to the other.

“Oh my giddy aunt! I'll take it all back, Girls. This is incredible. Hello Boy, what's your name and where did you pop up from?”

“Hello, Mrs . . umm, Kim's mother. I'm Jethro and we met out in the street, yesterday. We think it's amazing too.”

“Yeah, Mum. You didn't give my twin brother away, did you?”

“No I did not! You haven't got a twin brother – well, I thought you didn't.”

“I think you'd know,” Kim grinned.

“I would! Wow, Jethro. I'll go and get my husband, he has to see this too!”

She left, Kim said, “Jethro, I . . “

“Don't say sorry again,” Jethro interrupted. “Not your fault.”

“No, but it's embarrassing. You'll have to say hello to Dad, we can't get out of that now, but that's all. Once he's seen you, we're outta here.”

“Fair enough, but not in the rain, I hope.”

“No, not in the rain. We'll find somewhere private.”

Kim's dad came in and met the visitor, he was as amazed as anyone was. “You can all stop looking at me like that. He's definitely not one of mine. But, could be a nephew? What's your father's name, Jethro?”

“I don't know. Mum's never told me.”

“A secret eh? Tell her that you've met us and see if that gets a reaction.”

“I will. I'll do that for sure.”

“Okay, that's it. Dad, you can go back to work now.” Kim got to his feet (foot!) “We've got things to do.”

“Haven't we all? But there's time for a cup of tea first.”

“You've always got time for that. Come on, Jethro, we're out of here.”

The two boys went out into the hall. Kim looked at the stairs and sighed. “Right. I want to show you my room. It's up on the top floor and I haven't been up there for days – since this happened. I can get up the stairs, if I take it slow, but I'm worried about coming down again. I tried it before and nearly fell on my face.”

“At least you'd get down quick.”

“Yeah, but that's how I broke my bloody leg in the first place, and it was your fault. I don't want to do that again.”

“How was it my fault? I wasn't even here.”

“You nearly were. I was up on the front balcony, saw you walking down the street with all your dogs, I was rushing down to get a closer look, tripped over my big feet and fell down the stairs and broke my leg. So, it's your fault – kind of."

“Yeah, right! If you insist.”

“I do, I do. Anyway, I can't get down the stairs by myself, but I can if you'll help me.”

“How can I do that?”

“Just stop me from falling over.”

“Oh, right. I can do that, I think.”

“You'd better or I won't be happy and I'll bleed all over you. We'll get started then.”

He struggled up the stairs, one by one, and Jethro hovered closely. He rested on the landing, then started on the next flight. At the top he swung along to the foot of the 'bad' stairs and looked up there.

“Damm. These will be the hard ones – steeper and narrower and just one flight all the way up.”

“You don't have to do this, you know.”

“Yes I do. My room's up there and that's where we're going!” He started up and didn't stop until they came to the top. “Did it,” he exulted. “Getting back down is not going to be fun.”

“So, stay up here.”

“Not likely! The kitchen is down there. We'll go and have a look at the balcony out at the front first.”

Jethro opened the glass doors and looked sceptically at the old woodwork.”Are you sure it's going to hold us? It's a long way down.”

“Tell me about it! It'll hold us. Both of us together wouldn't weigh as much as Mr. Springer and it holds him. He smokes his pipe out here because Mrs Springer won't have the smelly old thing in their rooms. That's the pipe, not him, by the way. Come on.”

They went out and looked down at the street. “Whoa! Great view.”

“Yeah, not too bad. Even better on a clear day. I need a water-pistol – no-one ever looks up. It's a good place for spying on the street. Sometimes I see this kid walking past with a whole lot of dogs.”

“I wonder who that would be? I don't think you're going to see him today.”

“Probably not – not down there anyway.” They grinned at each other. “Thanks for coming around. I was so bored! We'll go to my room now. Too bloody wet and windy out here.”

“Yeah, good.”

Back inside, they shut the weather out and went to Kim's room at the back.

“It's a big place,” Jethro commented. “Bigger than 3 houses stacked on top of each other. It must've been really grand in its day, it still looks good.”

“It does look good, in places. Better on the inside than the out. Dad's plan is to bring it all back to the way it was, which'll be good. It'll be a whole lot of work though and I'm staying away from that as much as I can.”

“Good scheme.”

Kim stood back and let Jethro open the door.

“You don't lock it?”

“No, I don't worry. It's mostly boarders up here and none of them would come in here.”

“Why not?”

“Miss Clayton. So, this is my room. Not huge, but it's big enough.”

“Way bigger than my room.”

“I guess it would be.” Kim sat on the bed. “I haven't been up here in over a week, I've missed it. Have a look at the view out of the window.”

“Not bad. Must be better when it's not raining.”

“Definitely! Can you see the mountains out at the back?”

“Not a sign. There's just clouds.”

“Of course there is. You'll have to take my word for it, it's spectacular when you can see it.”

“I'll believe you. Bluest skies I've ever seen are around here, when it's fine.”

“When it's fine – just doesn't happen enough./”

“You're not wrong.”

“Never am.”

“Yeah, right. So, you're into music?”

“Very much. Music is my life! You?”

“No, not really. I like listening, but I don't play anything.”

“Nothing at all?”

“No, except for the radio.”

“Radio? I never listen to that.”

“I do, I have it on all day long. I like it because you never know what's going to be on next and the DJ's chatter is like a bit of company for me.”

“Because you're home alone, all day every day.”

“Pretty much, yeah. But I'm used to it.”

“I would hate it.”

Kim lifted his guitar down from the wall and sat strumming it quietly while they talked. “I've missed this. I'm so going to take it downstairs when we go.”

“How're you going to do that with the crutches?”

“Easy. My new friend is going to carry it for me.”

“Oh? Who is that then?”

“You know who that is.”

“Yeah,” Jethro smiled. “I like your room. It's private and you've got space. My one's tiny and you couldn't swing a cat in my room. If you had a cat.”

“Which we don't. I've never understood that saying – why would you want to swing a cat around? You'd get ripped to shreds!”

“Probably,” Jethro shrugged. “Seems like a stupid thing to do all right.”

“And that'd be why you'd need lots of room. Do you think you mum will be moving on soon? Easy enough to do when your house is on wheels, I guess. Where will she go to?”

“I don't know. It could be anywhere, she just likes moving. She grew up in a circus, so that's probably why.”

“A circus – like lions and elephants and clowns and stuff? That would be awesome!”

“Yeah, I reckon it would too, but you know what else would be awesome?”

“What would?”

“Not moving around and staying in one place and having a friend, that would be awesome.”

“Yeah! But it's not going to happen, is it?”

“No, dammit. Not for long. One of these days Mum will get itchy feet and we'll be gone, again.”

“Yeah, dammit is right. There's nothing we can do about that. I guess we've just got to enjoy the time we've got, or something.”

“Or something.” Jethro went over and looked out of the window again. He turned back to Kim, still sitting on the bed. “Kim, how far could you walk with the crutches and that thing on your leg?”

“Don't know. Not far, I think. The furtherest I've been was to the seat down the street. And up here of course.”

“That's not so far, but yeah – hard to do, I guess. Well, do you . . ?”

He didn't get any further because there was a knock on the door and Bonnie and Jordan walked in.

“Hey-ho, Kimbo. What're you doing up here?”

“Yeah, Mate,” said Jordan. “Miss Clayton said to come up and we'd get a surprise – she got that right. What happened to the broken leg?”

“Nothing happened to it,” Jethro replied. “It's over there, on the bed.”

“It's what?” Jordan turned, looked at Kim on the bed, looked at Jethro, by the window, and back at Kim again. “Your leg looks broken – you've got the cast on it, so you must be Kim. Who the hell are you?”

“Umm, not Kim,” Jethro grinned. “Who are you?”

“Oh, we're not Kim either,” Bonnie said. “But we're his friends – he's Jordan and I'm Bonnie. Are you Kim's brother that we didn't know about?”

“No, I'm not. We just met yesterday. I'm Jethro and I live uptown with my mum.”

“Yeah? You're not exactly the same. Still pretty amazing though. You two could easily be brothers.”

Kim said, “Could be, but we're not.”

“Spooky,” Jordan commented. “Hey! Aren't you the one? Have you got like lots of dogs? You have, haven't you? I've seen you walking with them.”

“Wrong,” said Kim. “They're not his, he hasn't got any dogs. His mother won't let him have one – which is mean.”

“But you go walking with lots of dogs.”

“I do, but they're not mine. They just tag-along because they want to.”

Bonnie said, “So you're like Tarzan, the King of the Animals, or something.”

“Or something,” Jethro shrugged. “They're just today's friends. Animals live very much in today, I like them and they like me.”

“Okay. How come you look so much like Kimbo?”

“I don't.”

“You bloody do!”

“No, he looks like me – we don't know why.”

Kim said, “Miss Clayton says that everyone's got a double. When you think about it, with millions and millions of people, all with 2 eyes, 2 ears, a nose and a mouth and such, some of them are going to look alike, there's only so many combinations.

“Maybe,” Jordan shrugged. “Bloody freaky though – seeing someone else with your face.”

“It's not freaky!” Kim protested. “It's cool.”

“Yeah, it is cool,” Jethro agreed.

“We could have real fun with this, “ Bonnie said. “You could take each other's places, like the Prince and the Pauper story thing.”

“Wouldn't work,” Kim shook his head. “Besides, no-one's princes or paupers, we're just us.”

“Yeah, you are. You're just you,” Jordan agreed. “Are you gay, Jethro Tull?”

“I'm not Jethro Tull, I'm Jethro Bourke, and why do you want to know?”

“Just curious. Kim says that he is – so have you got that in common as well?”

“Are you gay, Kim?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Oh. Well, I don't know what I am. Maybe yes, maybe no. I don't know.”

Bonnie had had enough of watching quietly. She broke in, “Who cares if you're gay or not? It doesn't matter. There's lots more to a person than that. So, Mr. Lookalike, do you sing like an angel as well?”

“Me?” Jethro grinned. “No, I don't sing – not very good. Do you sing like an angel, Kim?”

“Don't know. I've never heard an angel singing, but I can hold a tune.”

“Don't be modest,Kim,” Jordan growled. “He's the best singer I've heard, I think.” He picked up Kim's guitar and handed it to him. “Show him, Kimbo – dazzle us with your brilliance.”

“I'm not that good,” Kim protested. But he took the guitar and strummed it again.

They sat around for the rest of the rainy afternoon, talking and making music – some were better at that than others, but it was fun. When it was time to go, Jordan, Bonnie and Jethro carried Kim down the stairs. He lay back in their hands, playing his guitar as they went.

Miss Clayton stood down at the bottom, watching and waiting with a small smile on her normally grim face.

They stood him back on his feet with the crutches and he went to the front door to see them off into the rain. He waved goodbye and went, smugly, back to trhe warm kitchen for his evening meal.

It was a good day.

Okarito - Jethro

(Quick post - going away, for a week & a bit, apparently - I just do what I'm told. Going to Christchurch, the shaky city :( Wonder if Maccas still ask if you want a shake with your order? - Hope not! Cheers)

Kim sat there, feeling – what? He didn't know. Offended? Yeah, a bit. Intrigued? Yes, definitely. He was interested even if the boy was not. He sat there and waited. He didn't even know if they came back the same way, but there was only one way to find out and he was in no hurry.

His phone rang and it was his mother, worrying of course. “I'm okay, Mum. Just sitting here waiting to talk to someone. I'll be back soon. 'Bye, Mum.”

And – yes! He saw them coming back and he sat and waited and watched again. He wouldn't say anything this time. If the kid wanted to snub him again, well – fine. He was just looking. Was that how people saw him when he was walking around – without the dogs of course.

This time the boy stopped and looked. He sat down next to him and had a closer look. “Yes, that's weird. I've never seen anything like it. What's your name and where're you from?”

“I'm Kim. Kim Harrison. We've only been here a short time, but I live in the Royal Hotel.”

“Kim Harrison? Cool. I'm Jethro. Where did you live before you came here?”

“In Green Island.”

“Where? I've been, like, everywhere! But I've never heard of any Green Island. Is that overseas?”

“No,” Kim laughed. “It's a suburb, at the south end of Dunedin.”

“Dunedin – the dour southern Scottish city. I know where that is. Got any family?”

“Yes. There's my dad, my mum and us four kids. I'm the oldest.”

“Mum, Dad and four kids and you're all living in a hotel. Are your folks rich?”

“I wish! No, they're not rich, they're just workers.”

“How do you all afford to live in a hotel then?”

“We don't just live there, Dad bought the place and he's fixing it up.”

“So he is rich.”

“No, he's not and he's even less rich now. He used to have a painting and decorating business, he sold it and now he's got a big old pub and a huge mortgage. What do your folks do?”

“Not much. There's just my mum and I. We live in a 30 foot caravan and now it's parked-up in a friend's backyard because Mum's got a job at the hospital.”

“Is she a doctor or a nurse or something?”

“Or something. She's the handyman/gardener and looks after the coal-fired boiler too.”

“Sounds like she's busy.”

“She is. It's a 6 day a week job. She got it because she wanted to get some money together. She says she likes it but she'll probably chuck it in and we'll move on before long. We usually do. Mum doesn't like staying in one place for long.”

“Where's your dad?”

“Haven't got one. I guess I had a father somewhere, but I don't know anything about him. Mum won't tell me, she says I was a virgin birth. Haha. I bloody wasn't – I know that much. Hey – maybe we could have the same father? Does your father ever stray?”

“Not likely – Mum'd kill him! So, no brothers or sisters, but you've got all those dogs. Are they all yours?”

“No. None of them are. Mum won't let me have a dog, she says there's no room in the caravan for one.”

“Camping grounds probably wouldn't have you either. But you take them all walking, do you get paid for that?”

“No, I don't get paid – wish I did! They just come with me. I like dogs. I like most animals and get on better with them than I do with people.”

“It must be hard making friends when you're always moving on. Why don't you go to school?”

“I'm with the Correspondence School, always have been and always will be.”

“Makes sense, I guess. Do you like it?”

“It's okay.”

“Don't you get lonely, being by yourself all the time?”

“But I'm not by myself. These are my friends,” he waved a hand at the dogs.

“Better than nothing.”

“Yeah, way better than nothing. Have you got a dog?”

“Sort of. Mum's got a Bijon, but he's old and grouchy and he doesn't do much – just lies around farting and sleeping all the time. Wish I could do that.”

“That'd be all right, eh? Probably get boring though.”

“Probably. I s'pose I should be getting home before someone comes looking for me.” Kim stood and got on his crutches. “Are you going up this way?”

“Yep.”

“I'll walk with you then. I'll be one of your dogs. They won't bite, will they.”

“Not unless I tell them to.”

“Hope you don't do that then.” They started back up the street and Kim tried not to slow them down too much. “Your name is Jethro. Jethro Tull, is it?”

“It's not and I have heard that joke before – about a million times. I'm Jethro Bourke, b, o, u, r, k, e – Bourke. Don't say it.”

“Wasn't even thinking about it. Who was Jethro Tull? An early 70's rock singer, wasn't he?”

“Not he, they. Jethro Tull was the name of a group – one of the original Heavy Metal bands. They got their name from some old dude who was an inventor, or something, hundreds of years ago.”

“What did he invent? Metal music?”

“Something much more useful than that.”

“Most things are.”

“You're not wrong.”

They walked along in companionable silence for a few minutes, both of them stealing glances at the other. They neared the hotel on the other side of the street.

Kim said, “Well, there it is – Home Sweet Home and there's the redoubtable Miss Clayton looking for me.”

“Miss Clayton. I've heard of her. They say she's an old battleaxe.”

“She's not that bad. She just pretends she's fierce.”

“Must be a good pretender.”

“She is, she's got the whole town fooled, but not me. Will you be walking this way tomorrow?”

“I will, unless it's raining. I walk everyday, at around the same time, but not when it's raining.”

“Don't the dogs like walking in the rain.”

“They don't care. It's me, I hate it and I don't do it.”

“Fair enough. Nice meeting you, Jethro. Maybe I'll see you tomnorrow, if it's not raining.”

“Probably. I'll look forward to that. 'Bye, Kim, you good-looker you.”

“'Bye, Jethro, the other good-looker.”

They parted with grins and Kim crossed the street, hoping that he wasn't about to be growled at by Miss Clayton. She wasn't growling, she was too busy watching Jethro walk away up the street.

“Who is that boy, Kimberley?”

“His name's Jethro and he's new in town too. His mum's working at the hospital.”

“Is he a relation of yours?”

“Don't think so. Never seen him before.”

“Never? Amazing, he could be your twin. It's said that everyone has got a double. I think that you've just met yours.”

“Looks like.”

“Don't contract your words, Kimberley. It makes you sound common.”

“But I am common.”

“You certainly are not! You're a most uncommon young man. Now, come along, it's time for our music practice.”

“Must we?”

“Yes, we must. Practice makes perfect. You are well on the way, but you're not perfect yet.”

They were practicing every night, from about 6.30 until 8pm. Or, Kim was practicing, Miss Clayton was guiding him. She had summoned him into the downstairs lounge, 3 days ago, and sat at the upright piano while he stood, fidgeting nervously.

“Don't fidget, Kimberley, and stand up straight. Develop the habit of good posture when you are young and it will stand you in good stead when you are older.”

“Yes, Miss Clayton.”

What he was really thinking was, 'You must've stood real straight when you were a girl then.'

She told him that she'd been a music teacher for many years, which he knew, and that she'd heard him singing and playing around the hotel, which he did not know. (She didn't tell him how she'd heard him, that was her secret).

She said that, while she didn't like some of his choices, he was easily as good as anyone she'd ever heard in all her years of experience – possibly even the best.

“You are hugely talented, Young Kimberley, but you are obviously self-taught and you need to learn techniques for breathing and projection. Also, you should be exploring the range of styles that would suit your voice.

With your gifts, you could go a long way in music. There are many singers inferior to you who are making a good living from it. Even if you never do that, there is still great satisfaction in being the best that you can be.

In short, Kimberley, you would benefit from having a teacher. I would deem it a privilege if that teacher was me.”

“You're offering to teach me, Miss Clayton? Well, why not? That could be really good, thanks. I can't afford to pay you anything though, I'll have to speak to Mum.”

“There will be no payment required, just satisfaction for the both of us. I must warn you though, I can be a hard taskmaster.”

“I don't doubt that! Hard but fair.”

“Indeed. Anything that is worthwhile is worth doing well and nothing is achieved without great effort – Blood, Sweat and Tears, as it were. We will practice in here, every evening from 6.30 to 8pm.”

“Every day?”

“Yes. Or would you rather be cleaning up the kitchen at that time?”

“In here it is then. One thing, Miss Clayton, could you call me 'Kim'?”

“I think not. Your name is Kimberley. That is a perfectly good name and there is no need to butcher it.”

“Okay,” he sighed.

And so it had begun. Miss Clayton was a good teacher and she knew a lot of stuff, but she wasn't kidding when she said that she was a hard taskmaster – she was!

On Saturday it rained all day, so walking wasn't going to happen. Mid-morning, getting bored, Kim thought he'd try going up to his room. Going up the stairs on his crutches was an effort but he could do it.

However, after he'd climbed the first half-dozen steps, he thought he'd see what it was like going down again. He was glad that he hadn't gone up any further, getting down was too hard.

He almost tipped forward a couple of times and he really didn't need another fall down the stairs, so he gave up on that plan. Going up to his room would have to wait for another day.

He had lunch and enjoyed being fussed-over by Mrs Springer. It was good, but not worth falling down the stairs for. Then he watched his parents' TV for a while, got bored and thought he'd have a 'nana nap'. Not much else to do on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

That plan was not a success. He'd just settled down on the bed when Alesha came bouncing into the room.

“Damm, Alesha! I know it's really your room but you could knock when I'm using it.”

“Sorree! No need to bite my head off. What're you doing in bed in the daytime?”

“Just having a rest.”

“You're not you know. You can't because you've got a visitor.”

“A visitor? Is it Jordan?”

“No, and it's not Bonnie either.”

“Who then?”

“Come and see. Or do you want me to send him in here?”

“In here?” He looked around the girly room – unicorns and One Direction posters everywhere. “No, I'll come out.”

He climbed out of bed and hobbled out to the living room.

“Jethro! Hello. What're you doing here?”

“I came to see you. That's all right, isn't it?”

“Yeah - great! But I thought you didn't walk in the rain?”

“I don't and I didn't. Mum's friend, Barry, dropped me off. He's gone to do the Supermarket shopping and I hate that.”

“Supermarkets are a pain. Come in. Sit down.”

Okarito - Kim & Jordan, 3

After dinner, Kim got his guitar and sat out on the balcony to make music, watch the sun go down and to keep an eye on the street in case that boy and his dogs went past.

He hadn't seen him again and was starting to think that he wasn't going to. He might not even be a local, the town got a lot of visitors, he could be someone just passing through. But with all of those dogs?

There was a glorious sunset, all pinks and purples. Then he glanced down at the street and he saw him! There were only a couple of dogs, but it was the same boy, he was sure of that.

He got up, went inside, and left his guitar on the floor, against the wall to rush down to the street and get a closer look. He never got there.

There were some bags and cases near the top of the stairs. In his hurry, he dodged around them, somehow got his feet tangled and he fell down the stairs.

“Oh shoooot! Wow. Gee. Bugger. Damm.”

He fell and crashed and bounced and slid to the foot of the steep and narrow stairs and lay there groaning with his legs flared out behind him, one at an unlikely angle. Kaylee came out of her room to see what all the noise was about. She saw her brother lying there and screamed.

Still yelling, she raced down the other stairs, to get their mother, or father, or anyone, and ran straight into Miss Clayton.

Miss Clayton put her hands out to stop her. “Be quiet, Girl! Stop that horrible noise, you'll disturb the guests. Take a deep breath, settle down and tell me what is wrong with you.”

“Not me – Kim,” she sobbed. “He fell down the top stairs. He's lying there, broken. Help him, Miss Clayton. Someone's got to do something!”

“Of course. Go to your mother. She's in her rooms with the little ones. Tell her to ring 111 and get an ambulance. Quickly now, but quietly – go.”

Kaylee ran into her parents' rooms; Miss Clayton went up to where the boy was. She took one look at him and the gathering group of onlookers and she took control.

“Stand back please. Get back and give the boy some room. What are you doing, Man? Do not touch him!

Hold on, Kimberley. It's going to be all right. The Ambulance will be here soon.”

“It hurts, Miss Clayton. Oh, damm me, it hurts!”

“Of course it does.” She dropped down beside him and held out her hand. “Take my hand, Kimberley. Hold it. Squeeze it tight.”

Mrs. Harrison and Kaylee came running up the stairs. “An ambulance is on its way. Oh, Kim. My poor baby!” She burst into tears.

“Shush. Enough of that,” Miss Clayton growled. “You'll distress him, even more than he is. Get the duvet and pillows from Kaylee's room. Cover him up, quickly.”

They rushed to obey, then sat around quietly, trying not to cry.

“He's not dead and he's not going to be. Where is that bloody ambulance?”

It was only a few minutes, but it semed a long time until the medics arrived. Young Doctor Rodden, Miss Clayton's great-nephew, was with them. He tended to Kim, gave him a shot of painkiller and straightened him up. They loaded him up and took him away to the hospital.

The family followed in their car. Miss Clayton carried on with her duties, quietly shaking her hand when no-one was looking. She was going to have bruises – the boy was strong.

It was a couple of days before he was out of the hospital, and the best part of a week before he was allowed outdoors.

The old hotel had no elevators or escalators, so a return to his 3rd floor room was out of the question for the time being. Alesha had to give up her bed and he was sleeping there, in his parents' rooms. Alesha didn't mind, they put a spare bed in Kaylee's room and she was sleeping up there with her.

He had plenty of visitors in the days he was confined to bed. Jordan and Bonnie were there, and others from school as well – even 2 teachers came to see him.

He made a point of talking to Miss Clayton and thanking her for her help when he 'flew down the stairs'. She hid her bruised hand, smiled and said, “Thank you, Kimberley. What I do best is encouraging others to do better. Speaking of which, while you are laid-up, have a listen to these CDs. When you have done that, we can talk about what you think.”

“Sure thing, Miss Clayton.” He took the 3 CDs and inspected them. “Classical music?”

“Light Operatic Classics,” she replied. “Pay particular attention to the arias. Take good care of them, Kimberley, I've had them for a long time and they are special.”

“I'll be careful. I won't be running down the stairs with them anyway.”

He was lying there listening to one when Jordan and Bonnie came in on Thursday, after school.

“You can turn that stuff off for a start.” Bonnie greeted him.

“Yea. A bit of that goes a long way,” Jordan agreed. “How's it, Kim? Getting bored yet?”

“No, not bored at all, but I'll be glad when I can get out and walk a bit. I'll need some practice if I'm going back to school on Monday.”

“Get a wheelchair,” said Jordan. “One with a souped-up motor.”

“Oh brilliant, Jords,” Bommie said. “Then he could race around crashing into doors and things.”

Kim said, “I don't think so! Jordan, what's that you're wearing on your wrist?”

“What do you think?” Jordan held out his wrist and twisted it to show-off the coloured jelly-bangles.

“Bangles, obviously. But the colours?”

“Keep talking.”

“Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. They're the colours of the Rainbow Flag and you've got a gay signal on your wrist?”

“Got it in one. Not just a pretty face, are you? Clever Kid. I've been wearing them all day and you're the first who's noticed.”

“Hey, I knew!” Bonnie objected.

“Only because I told you that I was going to wear them, and why.”

“Well, yeah, there is that.”

Kim said, “Are you saying you're gay, Jordan? I thought you and Bonnie were an item.”

“Us?” Bonnie laughed. “Not likely. I'm not that desperate! We're just mates and Jords is gay.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. I'm gay and unattached, so I'm advertising – it's worked before.”

Kim said, “Oh. Are you gay too, Bonnie?”

“No I am not. Are you?”

“Yes,” he whispered, blushed and nodded.

“Whoa!” Jordan said. “I did not expect that.”

“Me neither,” said Bonnie.

“Neither did I,” Kim said. “But I am.”

“Well good for you. Are you interested in Jordan?”

“Jordan? I don't think so. I don't know. I thought we were friends.”

Jordan grinned, “Yeah, I don't think so too. You're a good guy, for a kid, but as a partner? I think not.”

“You can be like sisters then,” Bonnie grinned.

They both said, “Shut up. We're not girls!”

Next day, Friday, Kim's mother finally agreed that he could go out for a walk. That was only because Miss Clayton said that he should start getting around if he was going to go back to school on Monday.

“All right then,” she sighed. “It is a nice day out there. Take it easy and don't go overdoing it. You'll need the crutches, this is more than a walk across the room, and make sure you've got your phone so you can call if you have to.”

“Great. Thanks, Mum. I won't go far – just down to the end of the street and back.”

“That'll be plenty for your first time out.”

He went through to the front of the hotel and out on to the sidewalk. He looked right, towards the lagoon-end of the main street, looked left, south, to the other end and went that way. South was the direction that he'd seen the boy walking to with his dogs.

The downtown business area ended abruptly after a couple of blocks and he crossed the street to sit on the seat outside the gates at the entrance to the park.

It wasn't much of a park, just a big, flat, grassed area separating the main street from the small camping ground near the beach. Miss Clayton said that they used to run horse races there, many years ago, before her time. It was sometimes used for sports games now, but not often. There were better sports fields at the schools and over the hill, south, at the Four Mile end of town.

Mostly the central park was a big fat waste of space that the council had to mow to keep it tidy. People walked their dogs there and office and shop workers sat around on the grass in their lunchhours on sunny days.

He sat for a few minutes, watching the tail-end of the street at the tail-end of the day. He stood up to start making his way home, then sat down again.

The boy with the dogs was coming towards him. 'Only 4 dogs today.' It was the first time he'd seen him from down on the street level and not looking down from 3 stories up. The boy wore a cap, as always, but this time he could see his face. It was very familiar.

Did he know him from somewhere? No, he was sure that he didn't. And yet? Maybe he just looked like someone he knew, but who? Ah, yeah! He knew where he'd seen that face before – he saw it every time he looked in a mirror!

The boy looked just like Kim did – dark hair, blue eyes, a fresh, pale face with flushed-red cheeks and full red lips. He was about the same age and same build and height.

They weren't identical. Even at a distance he could see differences between them, his hair was longer for a start, and curlier, but they did look a lot alike. He'd seen twins who looked more different than that boy and him did.

When he was closer, the boy looked and looked again at him. Kim watched and waited as it dawned on him that he was looking at his doppelganger. He stopped and stared.

Kim looked up and grinned. “Weird, eh?”

“What's weird?”

“This.” He pointed at his own face, and then at the other's. “You and me. We look so much alike, we could be twins.”

“Doubt it.” The boy walked past him and out into the park.

Okarito, Kim & Jordan, 2

They walked out to the street and Kim pointed. “See that building there, the tallest one with a rusty roof? That's the Royal. One of those windows is my room. I'm not sure which one, but one is.”

“You can see the school from your bedroom? Sounds like a nightmare!” Jordan grinned.

“No it's not, it's great,” said Bonnie. “When he's bunking school, he'll be able to look down at all us silly beggars. If we're not bunking as well, that is.”

“I wouldn't bunk school'” Kim shook his head.

“Why not? Not a goody-goody, are you?”

“No, but if I stayed home, Miss Clayton would want to know why and I don't think I could fool her.”

“Probably not,” Bonnie agreed.

“Who's Miss Clayton?” Jordan asked.

“She works at the hotel,” Kim replied. “She lives there too and she's been there for, like, forever. She's a little old lady, very prim and proper and grumpy too. I think a smile would crack her dial.”

Jordan said, “If she works there, then your parents are her bosses. Why worry about what she thinks? Tell her to get lost.”

“Ooooh!” Bonnie grinned. “You've both got a lot to learn. No-one tells Miss Clayton to get lost. She can smile, she's got a lovely smile when you see it, just doesn't happen very often. When it does it's like the sun breaking through on a cloudy day. And, she doesn't just work there, Miss Clayton IS the Royal Hotel. The place would fall to bits if she left and the town probably would too.”

“Oh, come on! No-one's got that much influence.”

“Don't you believe it. Miss Clayton does.”

“But how could she?” said Kim. “I mean, she's prim and proper and all, but she doesn't even have a family to boss around.”

“Don't you believe it! The town is Miss Clayton's family, she's related to most of them in one way or another. Two of her sisters married Roddens so there's half the town for a start.

She is, what my Gran calls, the 'arbiter of morals and the touchstone of all that's good and proper'. When Miss Clayton talks people listen. The town council, the schools, the churches – everyone listens and no-one wants to upset Miss Clayton.”

“But how did she get to be like that? She's just a housekeeper in an old pub.”

“Just a housekeeper? Hoo Boy! She's not only related to most of the town, but she taught a lot of them too.”

“Taught them? At the school? But she told me that she's worked for the Royal for 57 years.”

“She probably has, but she was also a volunteer music and drama teacher, in all of the schools, for something like 40 years and she's been on every committee you could think of, including the council. Everyone's got huge respect for her.”

“A music teacher?” said Jordan. “That's cool. Does she still teach.”

“She doesn't. She's retired and I don't think she'd think much of Metal anyway. What're you thinking about, Kim?”

“I don't know what to think. Like, Wow! There's so much more to her than I thought there was. I think I'd better be careful.”

“Careful?”

“Yeah. Music is my life, but I don't think Miss Clayton would approve of me either.”

“Why not?” said Jordan. “You into Metal too?”

“No, not so much. I like all sorts but not Metal.”

“Keep your door shut.” Jordan shrugged. “Time I went home. You coming, Bonnie?”

“I'm coming. 'Bye, Kimbo. See you around.”

“Kim! My name is Kim. And, yeah, 'bye people. See you tomorrow, maybe.”

“Not if we see you first,” Jordan grinned.

They wandered off in one direction and Kim went in the other. Miss Clayton! He'd have to be even more careful around her, she could make a boy's life a misery in this town, especially if that boy was gay as well. Music Teacher for 40 years? He was staying away from the piano in the lounge from now on.

He'd been playing on the piano every evening since they'd arrived at the hotel, but no more. Miss Clayton never seemed to sleep and she was likely to appear anywhere, anytime, quietly making her way around the place.

That night, after dinner, he sat in the lounge, it was a bit lonely away up in his room, but he watched TV and stayed away from the piano.

Miss Clayton saw him there and wondered why he wasn't playing? 'Perhaps he's tired of that God-awful music. A good thing that would be too.' She continued on her rounds.

After a while sitting there, he was getting bored and he had an idea. He turned the TV off , went up to his room, got his acousticguitar and took it to the balcony out at the front. He figured that, if he shut the doors, he could sit there playing quietly and no-one would notice. Also, he could keep a watch on the street in case that kid with all the dogs came walking passed.

That was a failure on both fronts. The boy didn't appear and Miss Clayton, standing on the 2nd floor balcony below him, heard every note he played.

She smiled her approval. The quiet guitar music was pleasant and a vast improvement on what he usually played. It was a shame he was not singing. The boy had talent, as well as poor taste in music.

If he was not going to approach her, she might have to talk to him.

Next morning, Kim went into the kitchen for breakfast. Both of his parents were already there eating, both dressed in paint-splattered overalls.

“Morning All. I see Dad's got you painting again, Mum.”

“I will be,” she said. “I'm enjoying it actually. The old place needs a lot of sprucing up and there's not much else for me to do around here. Miss Clayton and Mrs Springer have got everything covered and I can't even work in the bar – that's not approved of. I'm not cleaning, so that leaves painting and I'm having fun.”

The father smiled. “You could just sit around and be a lady y'know.”

“Me? Not likely, I'd be bored stiff! Besides, you need a helper.”

“I'm not saying no, just saying that you don't have to do it. What do you think, Miss Clayton? Should the lady of the house be working as a painter's gofer?”

“If that is what she wants to do. An honest day's labour never did anyone any harm. Kimberley, I'd like a word with you when you come home from school today.”

“A word with me? Okay, I guess. Sure thing, Miss Clayton.” He helped himself to toast and cereal and sat at the table, carefully facing away from her.

It didn't help when Kaylee started teasing him as soon as they'd left the hotel. “Man, you're in trouble, Kimmy! What'd you do? Forget to flush the dunny?”

“No, I did not.”

“You must've done something, or more likely forgotten to do something you should've.”

“I don't think so. I don't know. I'll just have to wait and see, won't I?”

“Sooner you than me. I wouldn't want to cross Miss Clayton.”

“Neither would I! Thanks, Kaylee, I was already worried you know. And don't call me Kimmy. My name is Kim.”

“Of course it is. See ya, Kimmy.” She skipped away to join some girls and he walked into the Highschool. Jordan and Bonnie were sitting on the steps, checking their phone messages.

“Here you are,” Jordan greeted him. “About time too. We want to talk to you. Wait a minute while I see what the Cat's got to say.” He looked back at his phone.

Everyone wanted to talk to him today! “Wait,” Kim said to Bonnie, “His cat texts him? Clever cat, that.”

“Not that sort of cat, Idiot. The Cat's a girl. She was his mate back in Brownsville. Jordan says she's like me, but more so.”

“More? What do you want to talk about?”

“Music,” said Jordan, putting his phone away. “Bonnie thinks you and me should get together. They don't want you for the school's music and they sure as hell won't want me. Maybe we could play together. What do you think?”

“I don't know. I told you that I'm not into heavy metal and you won't like old rock, so where does that leave us?”

“Somewhere in the middle,” said Bonnie. “Come on, it's worth a try, isn't it? You've both got no-one else to play with.”

“Okay, I guess, we can try. It might even be fun.”

“Yeah, fun's the word,” said Jordan. “I play guitar, badly, and xylophone, even worse, and I sing like a frog. What d'you play?”

“Guitar, piano, keys, trumpet, violin, snare drums and bagpipes.”

“Seriously? That's a lot. Are you any good?”

“Competent, I think. Oh, except for the bagpipes, I'm totally useless with them.”

Bonnie said, “But would anyone notice? You know why pipers walk around when they're playing?”

“No. Why?”

“Trying to get away from the noise! You two need to get together. How about after school today?”

“Sounds good,” said Kim. “But can we go to one of your houses?”

“Why not at the hotel?” said Jordan. “There'd be more room there.”

“There would be, but Miss Clayton will be there.”

“We'll go to Jordan's house,” said Bonnie.

“We can't,” Jordan said. “That Steve will be there and I'm not giving him an excuse to moan at me.”

Bonnie said, “Well you're not coming to mine. You'd wake the baby up and I'd be in the crapper.”

“All right then,” Kim sighed. “We'll go to the hotel. We can go up to my room and shut the door and, hopefully, she won't hear us.”

“Better than nothing,” Jordan shrugged. “We'll do that today, but if this works we've got to find somewhere where we can play loud. I like loud. Meet us here after school. Okay?”

“Okay by me. See you then.”

Jordan pulled his phone out again and Kim walked away.

“Kim!” Bonnie called. “Can you sing? Jordan can't.”

“I can sing,” he grinned.

“But are you any good?”

“I sing like an angel.”

“Sure you do. Says who?”

“My Gran. Well, she used to. She'll be listening to real ones now.”

“Your gran would have to say that!”

“And, she did. Laters, Guys.” He disappeared inside.

“Guys?” Bonnie bristled. “Cheeky Swine! Are you a guy, Jordan?”

“Yeah, of course I am. Aren't you?”

“No I bloody am not. I'm a girl, not a guy!”

“Damm! Here I was thinking that I might have found a boyfriend.”

“I'd shut up if I was you, Jordan Houston.”

“Yes, Boss.”

They met at the end of the day and Jordan and Bonnie went with Kim to the Royal Hotel. They went in through the backdoor and headed up the stairs. There was a lot of painting gear, ladders and planks etc, in the hallway. Kim's parents were working inside, in an empty bedroom, because it had been raining earlier in the day. Exterior work was for fine days.

He put his head in the door. “Hey, Mum. Hey, Dad. I'm home.”

“You don't say? How has your day been?” his father replied.

“Been good. This is Bonnie and that's Jordan. We're going up to my room to look at some music.”

“Hello, Bonnie. Hello, Jordan. Aren't you supposed to listen to music, not look at it?”

“Haha. You know what I mean.”

“Have fun, Kids,” Kim's mother said. “But keep the noise down or you-know-who will be up to see you.”

“We don't want that! We'll be careful. C'mon People.”

They went up the other stairs, paused to admire the view out the front, and then went to Kim's room where they spent a couple of hours, sitting around and 'looking at' music.

The rambling old hotel had been subject to many renovations and alterations over the years. Some of them were improvements, some were not. However, it had been built in the town's 19th century heyday when money was no object and it was state of the art for its time.

There was a coal-fired central heating system, with ducts in the ceilings and walls, before the town was lit by electricity, which was cheaper and cleaner. It had been abandonded year ago and most of the equipment ripped-out, but some of the vents still remained.

When standing in certain places, sound carried from room to room when the vents were open. Not many people knew that, but Miss Clayton did. She sometimes used it to follow what was going on in her hotel.

She'd seen the three teenagers heading up to Kimberley's room and was, naturally, suspicious of what they were up to. She paused in her rounds to listen to what they were doing. It didn't take long to hear that they were discussing the boy's music collection. It was all quite innocent and she was about to move on when, she got the shock of her life.

So did Bonnie and Jordan.

They were looking through a box of CD's when she said, “Is this yours or is it your granny's?”

“Funny you should say that. It used to be my gran's, but it's mine now. I love it. Gran used to get me to sing along with the polonaise.”

“Polonaise? There's nothing on the cover notes.”

“Yes there is. 'Je Suis Titania' is a polonaise – it's a dance in ¾ time. Comes from Polish.”

“And you sang it? Kimbo, you've got some weird stuff in here, but this is right over the top. I mean, Mignon, a comic opera, Ambroise Thomas. You really like this?”

“Sure. I love Je Suis Titania, it's a great workout for the vocal chords.

“But is it music?” said Jordan. “Put it on, Bonnie, and let's have a listen.”

“Do we have to.”

“Yes. You're the one who was saying that it's good to try something new. Can you sing it for us, Kim?”

“Sure I will. Just this once. You won't like it anyway.”

Bonnie put the CD on, found the track and started the music. Kim closed his eyes and stood and sang like there was no-one there. She'd never heard anything like it. Jordan thought he had heard it, somewhere, he didn't know where but it was kind-of familiar.

Miss Clayton had heard the tune before, but she was amazed. She'd heard the boy and his preferred music, but this was something else. Incredible! She'd never heard the like before. Something was going to have to be done.

Kim's voice bounced and soared to impossible heights. The other two sat looking around at all the glass in the room and waiting for something to shatter. Voices can do that, can't they? His didn't.

He finished abruptly and stood looking expectantly. Jordan said, “Well,I wouldn't call it music.”

“Oh?”

“No. Incredible and bloody impossible, but not music. You weren't kidding when you said that it's a workout for the vocal chords. They must be exhausted by now. You don't do that all the time, do you?”

“Just sometimes. Bonnie?”

“I don't know what to think. Jords is right, probably. Thanks. Very impressive, but not what we want to hear. What else have you got?”

Miss Clayton closed the vent and walked away, shaking her head. 'Kids today!'

Jordan and Bonnie didn't stay much longer, they left as soon as the bell rang for dinner. Kim went down to the door with them, and then to the kitchen to eat with his family.

He was disappointed, seemed like they wouldn't be making music together. Oh, well.