Westpoint Tales

Out of Here

2011-12-18T16:06:00.000-08:00

Apparently, we're going on holiday, or so i've been told - 4 days in Okarito, 4 in Westport, some more in Tapawera/Nelson and maybe to Christchurch, via Kaikoura. Yay!

Back some time in the New Year - meantime, have a great Christmas & enjoy the winter :)

cheers

Lorne & Logan, 10

2011-12-06T09:49:00.001-08:00

(Sort & sweet? - last one)

They all walked together around to the carpark, talking about the great show they'd just seen.

Karen said, “Your father must've been an interesting character, Dan.”

“He certainly was, and he had a wicked sense of humour. Once upon a time, he and his company were doing a North Island tour of small towns. They drew a very poor house in Te Awamutu and that p'ed him off, for some reason. So before moving on to Whangarei, he booked the same theatre for two weeks later and prepared a newspaper advertisement inviting the locals to come to a FREE show featuring his newest illusion “Gone with the Wind”. Come the big night the place was chocker, the pianist played the overture from the side of the stage, the curtain went up and all there was on-stage was a simple sign which read - Gone with the Wind.

He paid for the theatre, the newspaper ad, the sign writing, and hotel costs just to have his utu and say 'Up you Te Awamutu'.”

“Revenge is a dish best served cold, or so they say.”

“Certainly is. There's more to the story, when he and his wife ordered breakfast, in the hotel next morning, it arrived in covered dishes and all that was on the plates under the covers, was a note saying, “Gone with the Wind.”

“Oh, sweet!”

Lorne didn't even smile, he was quiet and surly and his father was looking daggers at him. Logan tried, one more time.

“What did you think of 'the Great Benyon', Lorne? Great, wasn't he?”

“He was okay.” Lorne looked the other way.

Logan gave up and Karen tried. “Well I loved every minute of it. Do you guys want to come around home for a coffee before you go?”

Dan looked at Lorne and said, No, I don't think so. Thanks, Karen, but not this time. I think His Nibs here and I have got some serious talking to do.”

“Oh? Okay. Dan, don't be too hard on him.”

“I'll do what I have to.”

Lorne was quiet, but he was thinking, 'You'll try.' His mind was made up and he was doing what he had to as well.

Karen and her boys said thanks and goodbye and left for home in their own car. Dan and Lorne got into the ute and started for their place.

“So, do you want to tell me what's going on. Lorne.”

“Not really. Nothing's going on anyway.”

Dan jammed on the brakes and stopped the truck on the side of the road, under the last streetlight on the way out of town. He sat there, looking straight ahead and thinking. Was he ever as stubborn as this little shit here next to him?

He really liked Karen, and he liked her boys too - she'd done a good of raising them - better than he had! He didn't know, but he'd thought that, one day, they might get together permanently and make a go of it as a family. Was Lorne going to stuff that up for all of them? He seemed to be doing his best to.

“Right, Lorne, that's it! I'm sick of this bullshit and it ends right now! I want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. What is up with you, and what has gone wrong between you and Logan?”

“You really want to know?”

“I just said I did, didn't I? Spill it!”

“All right then. You won't like it, but I'll tell you. I'm gay. I'm gay and I'm in love with Logan. I think he's falling in love with me and he can't, so I have to let him go.”

Dan blinked. He didn't see that coming, but he had asked. “You're gay? You sure about that?”

“Very sure.”

“And you love Logan, so you can't talk to him anymore?”

“Right.”

“That might make sense to you, but I'm dammed if it does to me!”

Lorne said nothing and they both sat there thinking their own thoughts.

“All right!” Dan snapped out of it, started the truck, turned around and hurried back into town. He pulled-up outside the Greene's house and got out.

“You stay right where you are," he growled. "You won't move if you know what's good for you. I will be back.”

He went inside and Lorne sat there wondering what he was doing and trying not to care.

After a few long minutes, Dan came back out with Logan following him. He opened the driver's-side door. “Get in, Logan. You sit in the middle.”

He got in after him and drove home in an awkward silence. Not a word was said all the way there. They arrived and quietly filed into the house. Lorne was heading for his room, but Dan stopped him.

“Oh no you don't! You're going nowhere, Mister. Sit down on that couch. Logan, you sit next to him.”

Dan sat in the chair facing them. “Right. It's time for some honest talking. I'll go first.

Lorne, you were not planned. You were an accident and I didn't want you for a start. I'm ashamed to say that I actually suggested that your mother have an abortion and I would pay for it.”

“Well thanks!”

“Shut up, Lorne. You'll get your turn. Right now, I'm speaking. You can be thankful that your mother was made of stronger stuff than me and she refused to abort you.

She gave you life, and you should be grateful for that. I know that I am – very, very grateful. I soon did an about-face and I wanted a son to raise – really wanted one.

I know it's stupid and it's not right, but I think most young men prefer sons to daughters. Prefer the idea of them anyway. Girls are people too. Good people, most of them, but a man likes the idea of a son to raise in his image and to carry on after he's gone.

That's stupid too and you're not much like me at all. You are your own person and you always have been. However, no matter how old you get, even if I'm still around when you're an old-age pensioner, you will always be my beautiful baby boy.

You are, without doubt, the most important thing in my life. You're all I've got and I love you very much!”

“Even if I'm gay?”

“Of course! So what if you are? It's just a label. You are my boy. I love you and want you to be happy. That is all that matters.

Now, explain, if you can, why you have to break up with Logan because you think he might be starting to love you?”

“Well. Okay. We were getting too close and people were starting to notice. We had sex and everything, last weekend. Some kids saw us here, when we were in the river, and they knew.”

“You had sex in the river?”

“No! We were just playing around, wrestling and everything, but they saw us and they knew how close we were getting. We went back to school on Monday and the rumours started. The story spread around in notes and whispers and everyone was saying that we were gay.

I didn't care about me. I can look after myself, and I haven't got much to lose anyway. But Logan has got a lot to lose. He's the best at everything he does, he's well liked and he's got lots of friends.

I couldn't see him lose all that just because of me, so I finished it.”

They were quiet for a minute, then Dan said, “Logan? You told me that you loved my boy. Are you going to tell him that, or is the cost too high?”

“No,” Logan replied. He turned and looked in Lorne's eyes. “I mean, no it's not too high. I love you, you Bloody Idiot! I totally love you and I don't care what it costs. I only want to be with you – now and always with you. I love you and you can't stop me.

Any friends I lose are not real friends anyway. Real friends will be friends no matter who I'm with and if I'm not with you, I won't be happy – ever!”

Lorne whispered, “You really mean that?”

“Every word of it. Do you love me, yes or no?”

“Yes, of course yes! Oh, Logan, I love you so much!”

They hugged and cried on each other's shoulders. Dan wiped the tears from his own eyes and stood up.

“Now that's much better. Well done, Boys.”

“Oh Dad!” Lorne leapt up and hugged him. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You're welcome. Thanks for being who you are. I'm going to bed and so are you. Don't keep me awake or I'll smack the pair of you.

Logan, thank you. I'll take you back in the morning, or you can stay all weekend and I'll take you home on Monday. It's entirely up to you.”

“I think I already am at home now. Thanks, Dan.”

“You're welcome too. One way or another, you're going to be my son as well.”

“G'night, Dad.”

“Have a good night, Boys.”

“Oh, we will!”

Lorne & Logan, 9

2011-12-04T15:32:00.001-08:00

(Forgot the most important one)

(Okay - not sure how this is going to go. Computer's being an arse again!)

When they pulled up outside the school next morning, Logan was there waiting and he beamed a huge smile when he saw them arrive. Lorne grimaced, this was not going to be easy.

“'Bye, Dad. See you this afternoon.”

“Yeah, 'bye. Lorne, listen, I've been thinking. I''m going out tonight, so if you want to stop-over at Logan's place, it's okay by me.”

“I don't think so. I'd rather go home.”

“You're sure? Okay, it's up to you. See you later.”

Dan drove away. Lorne slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking inside.

“Hey, Lorne. How're you?”

“Hello. I'm okay, thanks.” He kept walking.

“What? Hey! Wait a minute.” Logan grabbed his arm to stop him.

Lorne wrenched it away. “Fuck off. Don't touch me!”

“Okay, sorry. I just want to talk to you, I've been waiting here.”

“What do you want, a medal? There's no time to talk, school's starting.” He walked away and Logan, totally confused, stood there staring.

“There's plenty of time. We're not late.” He caught up to him, but didn't touch. “Lorne, what's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong It's just another day. Go find someone else to talk to, I'm busy.”

“I don't want to talk to someone else, just you.”

“Well tough.” He went inside and the door swung closed behind him.

Logan stood and wondered. What had he done? He didn't know.

“Hey, Greene. All ready to win, are you?” Ben Rodden slapped him on the back.

“Well, umm, yeah. I guess.”

“Full of confidence, aren't you? Don't worry, we'll slaughter them! What's up with your boyfriend?”

“Beats me. I mean, he's not my boyfriend, we're just mates. I thought we were.”

“So did I. Looks like he doesn't want to know you. No great loss anyway, he's weird. Come on then, back to the daily grind.”

Lorne spent the morning sitting with several different girls – chatting, laughing and flirting. They were delighted.

Logan spent the first class alone, and then found someone else to sit with. He didn't want to be by himself, looking like a total dipstick, all day. What was going on? He find out later. But he didn't. At lunchtime, Lorne pulled his disappearing act again – he was good at that.

Logan looked for him, and then had to give up. He had a game to get ready for.

The First 15 Rugby Team played their match against Linwood High, and lost. That was probably Logan's fault. His heart just wasn't in it and he missed a tackle and a couple of catches. No-one said anything to him, but he knew. He was distracted, worrying about Lorne.

Why wouldn't he talk to him. He hadn't done anything wrong – had he? He didn't know.

Their Coach, Mr. Lawson, was standing near the door when Logan came out of the changing room. “Not one of your better days, Logan.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged. “I was off. Sorry.”

“Don't sweat it. Everyone has an off day sometimes.”

“And today, I did. Shame we lost though.”

“Yeah, well,” Mr. Lawson shrugged in return. “Can't win them all.”

“Ain't that the truth?” Logan went looking around in case Lorne had waited for him. He hadn't. What was up with him anyway? He'd find out tomorrow. He'd make bloody sure of it.

His mother greeted him with a smile. “How was my big boy's day today?”

“Bloody awful, if you really want to know.”

“Oh? I take it that you didn't win the game then?”

“We didn't. They thrashed us.”

“Oh well, maybe next time. Listen I'm going out for a few drinks tonight. Will you be okay with watching the boys, or do you want me to get one of your grandparents to come around?”

“I can do it. We don't need a babysitter.”

“You sure that's all right? You can always ring Gran if you have to.”

“We'll be fine, Mum. But, who are you going out with?”

“Never you mind. That's my business.”

“But you never go out, especially on a week night.”

“Tonight I am. I was asked and I'm going.”

“With a guy? That's great! Enjoy it.”

“Oh, I will. Thanks, Son.”

His mum left, in her own car and by herself, so he still didn't know who she was going out with. He hoped it was someone nice, she deserved some fun in her life. However, it was just not right – kids keep secrets from their parents, they had to! But parents shouldn't keep secrets from their kids. Should they?

Jack and Brad were okay. There was a bit of a protest when he told them that it was bedtime. They didn't want to go, but Logan told he'd thump the pair of them if they didn't. So that ended that argument. They didn't shower, they just went to bed. He didn't try to make them, at least they'd gone.

He tried phoning Lorne, twice, but there was no answer. He didn't answer the emails or Facebook messages either, so – whatever. He'd see him tomorrow.

In the morning, Logan stood waiting outside the school again. Lately, he seemed to be there more often than not. How come Lorne never waited anywhere for him? He was beginning to get a bit slacked-off. Lorne was being strange and why was Logan always the one who did the chasing after?

Lorne arrived, not in his father's truck, but walking – walking, talking and laughing, with a girl! He was with Sarah Meates, so there was only one thing he'd be after. Logan knew her reputation, everyone did, and it was not good. Not unless you were looking for an easy lay, that is.

So that was how it was, was it? Logan stopped worrying, he stopped wondering and he got mad. 'Stuff him! He got what he wanted – used me and now he's dumped me. Must want to try the other side now. Well, he can go to Hell! Fuck him! I don't want to know.'

He spun around and stalked into school. 'I've got a life and Lorne Beynon's not part of it. I got along okay before him and I will again. I don't need him.'

They stayed separate, didn't speak and basically grew further apart as the day, and then the days, went on. Sarah had a new interest by the second day. Lorne was nice to look at but he was no fun and not interested in sex. He was boring and there were plenty of other boys to play with.

By the end of the week they'd more-or-less slipped back into the separate lives they lived before the new year started. Lorne was alone and sad-faced again. Logan was again surrounded by people and close to none of them. The only remaining difference was that neither of them was very happy and, sometimes, sad, longing and yearning glances went both ways across the room.

Friday afternoon, when they all poured out of school, Dan was sitting in his old ute, directly outside the main entrance. Lorne went over and quietly got in. He did, kind-of, wish that his dad would buy a new bloody truck already, but on the other hand, he didn't care what anyone thought of their old wheels.

“You're early today,” he commented as he struggled to fasten the seat-belt.

“Of course,” Dan replied. “It's poet's day, don't you know?”

“Poet's day? What does that mean?”

“Piss Off Early, Tomorrow's Saturday. That's the beauty of being my own boss, I can do what I want. Actually, there's a reason for leaving early. We're going home to get cleaned-up and changed into good clothes, and then we're coming back to town.”

“You might be, I'm not. Once I get home I'm staying there.”

“Oh, but you're not. You are coming back with me.”

“Dad, I don't want to! Don't I get any choice in this?”

“You don't. I pay the bills and I call the shots. You just do what you're told. Relax, Lorne. It's not like I'm dragging you into the dentist's. We're going to have a nice night out, with dinner in that new buffet restaurant in the Golden Lead hotel. You'll like that – it's self-service, help yourself and eat all you want. They've got a choice of about 50 different dishes with desserts to follow.

After that, I've got a surprise for you. Several surprises in fact.”

“I don't like surprises!”

“Yes you do. You love them – what is magic if not the surprise element?”

“That's different.”

“Well, maybe. Anyway, you'll like these ones.”

“I won't.”

“Maybe not, if you're going to be a grumpy-arse. - it's up to you. You're not very happy lately, is something wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong.”

“Nothing at all? You wouldn't tell me if there was, would you? How is Logan today?”

“Logan who?”

“Logan Greene – your friend, remember?”

“I haven't got a friend named Logan.”

“You did last weekend.”

“That was then, this is now.”

“I see. Had a row? I should've known. You haven't mentioned him for days now and you've forgotten how to smile.”

“I've got nothing to smile about. Can we just drop this? I don't want to talk about it and I don't want to go back to town.”

“Fine. We'll drop it, but you are coming back with me, like it or not.”

“I don't like it.”

“Oh dear, how sad, never mind.”

The rest of the trip was in an uncomfortable silence. They stopped next to the house.

“Here we are then. I'll feed the livestock while you get the first shower. If you're not out by the time I come inside, I'll get in there with you.”

“Eww!”

“Make it quick then. It's time you had another shave too, you're getting a furry-face. Clean-up and put your good clothes on.”

“Why can't I wear my old clothes?”

“You can if you want to, but you'll regret it. We're going to a nice restaurant, and then to the theater. If you're not wearing decent clothes, you'll be the only one there who isn't and you'll feel stupid.”

“I often do.”

“Stop it, Lorne! You're a pain in the arse when you get like this.”

“Why are we going to the theater? Is it that Film Festival thing?”

“No. That finished earlier this week. This is something new, and you'll love it.”

“I won't.”

“Wait and see. I think you will.”

“I know I won't.”

“Enough! Go and get in the shower right now!”

Driving back into town, Lorne sat as far away from his dad as he could get. He sulked. He couldn't get out of this outing, but no-one was going to make him enjoy it.

Dan tried to engage him in conversation. “Looking good, Lorne.”

“Pffft!” He blew a raspberry.

“I think it's time you had a new jacket though. Those sleeves are getting a bit short. You swam in that jacket when we bought it. Now look at you! Getting bigger all the time.”

“Doesn't everyone?”

“When they're kids, yes. There'd be something wrong if I kept growing. Now – you know I've been seeing someone?”

“Yeah. You haven't exactly kept it a secret.”

“And I'm not going to. It's early days yet, but I've got a very good feeling about this one.”

“So, who is it?”

“You'll soon find out. They're coming with us tonight.”

“Damm!”

"You behave yourself and don't you dare stuff this up on me.”

“All right. You said 'they' are coming?”

“Yes, they are. My friend's a solo mother and she's got 3 kids.”

Three? A mother and three kids? Oh-oh – it couldn't be, could it? Would his father do that to him?

Yes, he would. They left the truck, (locked even!), in the council car-park behind the main street. (Parking was free because it was after-hours). They walked around to the front street and, there, all dressed-up and smiling, standing outside the Golden Lead, was Karen Greene – His mother. At least her boys weren't with her.

“Hi, Karen,” Dan said. “Been waiting long?”

“Hi, Dan. Not long, just a few minutes.”

“Sorry about that. Lorne didn't want to hurry. He didn't want to come at all.”

“But he did and I'm glad he did. Hello,Lorne, you're looking good.”

“Hey,” he said and he turned to study the bill of fare in the window. At least she hadn't brought her brats with her – that was one good thing.

But she had brought them, dammit. Karen put two fingers in her mouth and blew a loud, piercing whistle – (yeah, All Class!) Jack, Brad, and the Other One appeared out of the recessed doorway of Toyworld up the street. They came running – well trained apparently.

Lorne had never seen Karen's boys dressed up before, and he wasn't admitting it to anyone, but they looked good. All of them looked good, even the Other One did. Dammit.

“Hey, Dan. Hey, Lorne,” the younger boys chorused. Lorne looked the other way. Dan got a small smile and a nod from Logan, but that was all.

“Right then” Dan looked at his watch. “Let's see if our seats are ready yet. I hope everyone's hungry. It's a buffet so it costs the same no matter how much you eat.”

“Dan” Karen smiled. “We've got four growing boys here. Of course they're hungry, they always are!”

'Yeah?' Lorne thought.'Well I'm not.'

They went inside and milled around while Dan checked-in at the teller's desk. Logan turned his back on Lorne and spoke to his brothers. Lorne stood apart, arms folded and glowering. He ignored everyone and only started moving when Dan gave him a push.

“Come on, Lorne, we haven't got all night.” He lowered his voice and growled, “Behave yourself or you're in trouble!”

“I told you, I don't want to be here.”

“You are here. Make the most of it.”

Karen and her boys were already seated in the crowded dining room. The waitress stood by the table, waiting for Dan and Lorne. They went over and sat down.

“All here now?” She had a plastic smile. “Welcome to Mr. Pickwick's. Have you eaten here before?”

“No. It's our first time,” Karen replied.

“It's everyone's first time,” she sighed. “We've only been open for a week. Anyway, the procedure is – In the tureens over there, there are four different soups and butterd rolls on the top. Take a plate, ladle out the soup you choose and bring some rolls back to the table. Next, join the line there, pick up a plate and fill it from the bain-maries as you work along the line. Take whatever you want and go back as many times as you like. When you're ready, the desserts are in the carousel at that end of the room. Enjoy your meal.”

She went to greet the next party. Brad said, “Can we go now?”

“Hungry?” Karen smiled. “Let's get started then.”

Brad, Jack and Logan went with Karen. Dan stood up. Lorne stayed where he was, fiddling with the cutlery.

“Are you coming, Lorne?”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You must be sick! Come on, Boy. You have to get something, it's paid for. Something there will appeal to you.”

Dan pulled on his arm. Lorne shrugged him off, stood and followed him to the start of the queue. The place was full of people and, inevitably, some old lady was holding up the line. Dan joined the queue, Lorne turned back to the soup tureens. He filled a bowl with the thick mushroom soup, got a couple of rolls and went back to sit at the table.

He was there, looking at the soup and playing with a spoon, when the others started arriving back. Logan was first. He sat down and said, “Lorne, I knew nothing about this. It was a surprise for us too. I can see that you don't want to be here. I don't much want to either, but we are so we might as well make the best of it.”

Lorne looked the other way and Logan thought, 'Stuff you, Mate! That's it – I'm not trying again.' He did wonder what was going on, but obviously wasn't going to find out.

Karen and Jack came back with their meals and sat down. “Well,” she said. “This is nice, isn't it? Good food and good company.” She glanced at the sulky-faced big boys and was sorry she spoke.

Dan and Karen tried to get them all talking. Brad was no problem; this was all new and exciting and he couldn't shut up. Jack, and then Logan joined in. Lorne fiddled with his soup and rolls, kept his eyes down and his mouth shut.

Karen's boys all had seconds, and then third helpings. Dan and Karen both had a second helping. Then they moved on to the desserts and soft drinks, (and had several helpings of them too!)

Lorne finished the soup, ate the two rolls and said that was enough, He didn't want any more.

The two younger boys were rubbing their bellies and moaning about how full they they were as they all walked outside. The others just smiled at them, except Lorne. Dan had given up on trying to involve him, but he was sure he'd snap out of it when he saw what was coming next. If this didn't get him excited, nothing would.

Night had fallen and it was dark outside. The streetlights were on and most of the shops and businesses along the street were all lit-up. The brightest spot in the town was where they were heading for. The newly restored and renovated theater, at the end of the next block, was ablaze with lights. Hundreds of small, white lights covered the canopy over the entrance and the name, 'Majestic Theater' was picked out in red lights. They hadn't worked for years and it really did look majestic now. It was an old building, but as good as new again and it stood out among all the old and faded buildings along the street.

Sandwich boards on the sidewalk and posters on the walls advertised the 'Grand Re-opening Festival.'

“Oh, doesn't the old place look grand!" Karen exclaimed. “What's on the program for tonight?”

“An old-time vaudeville show,” Dan replied. “They've got some really special acts too.”

They went inside and waited in the lobby while Dan got their tickets and reservations. The walls were covered in old posters, including a special display of 'Okarito's own – Great Benyon!' “Oh, gee. Wow!” Logan rushed over for a closer look.

Karen, Jack and Brad follwed him. Lorne stayed where he was, with an unreadable look on his face.

“So, Lorne.” Dan came back. “What do you think of all that then? Your granddad would've been really chuffed!”

“Yeah, maybe,” he replied quietly.

'I give up!' Dan shrugged. What would it take to impress this Gloomy-Guts? He thought that Lorne was going to be so impressed. He wasn't. He was showing no reaction at all But this was not the place to get into an argument.

“Come and find our seats.”

They went into the auditorium and sat in their seats, high-up towards the back. A string quartet was playing quiet music, on the stage in front of the curtains. The theater was not full, but there was a good-sized crowd coming in. Mrs. Carter, the School Principal, was there with her family. She smiled and waved when she saw Lorne. He nodded and didn't smile. The lights dimmed and the quartet left the stage.

The emcee for the evening was the school's Mr. Lawson and he walked out on the stage, resplendent in Victorian evening-wear, complete with a big, false, moustache. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls – Welcome. Welcome, one and all to a splendid evening of wholesome family entertainment! To mark the reopening of our Majestic Theater, we have assembled old-time variety acts including a special appearance by New Zealand's greatest ever entertainer – the Great Benyon!

Unfortunately, the Great Benyon himself could not be here tonight, as he has gone to that theater in the sky. His place will be taken by a worthy successor, Orlando, who, I am sure, will astound us all.

To begin the show, please welcome Okarito's First Lady of Song, the beautiful, Miss Emily Thompson!”

The curtains parted and Mr. Lawson took his place in the pulpit at the left of the stage. The band began to play and Miss Emily Thompson came out singing and twirling a parasol.

Most of the acts were amateurs, members of the local operatic society, all dressed in old-fashioned costumes. But there were several surprise acts by professionals, including circus actrobats and jugglers.

The majority of the crowd went outside during the intermission, but, apart from runs to the toilets, Dan, Karen and the boys stayed where they were. Nobody wanted any ice cream – they were 'stuffed'.

The younger boys especially, were chattering excitedly. They thought their teachers, (and the pastor!), looked funny in their costumes, but it was good fun. Five of their party were enjoying themselves. Lorne sat with his arms folded, looking straight ahead and saying nothing. It wwas almost like he was under his own little black cloud.

The others all just left him alone, apart from Logan stealing glances at him. His father decided that they were going to have a serious talk when they were alone. He was getting mighty sick of this!

The second half of the program started with a comic song and an unfunny comedian.

“And now – the highlight of the evening! Taking the part of the Great Benyon's regular touring companion, his own daughter, Miss Evelyn Talma, we have, from Christchurch, the lovely Miss Suzanne Donaldson!”

Dan forgot his worries and he laughed, whistled, and enthusiastically applauded the impersonation of his big sister. She was brilliant!

The curtains closed and Karen said, “Enjoyed that, didn't you, Dan? She'll be a hard act to follow. What did you think, Lorne.”

“She was okay,” he replied.

Dan leaned forward. He was going to say something, but didn't get a chance. There was a fanfare and drum roll and the emcee walked across the stage, proclaiming, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome, the star of our show, the one, the only, the Great – Benyon!”

A small man fought his way out from behind the curtains. He had bushy white hair and was wearing gray trousers, a brown suit-jacket and too much make-up. He peered myopically at the audience.

“Oh. Hello! What are you all doing here? A show, you say? Well then – Bam Boo Zalem!!”

He flung his arms out wide and the curtains opened on a stage covered in props. He walked behind a screen and, without pausing, came out the other side dressed in a long, blue, oriental robe and matching hat. He turned around slowly and announced, “Same man, different clothes! Now, this here is the Peking Mystery Palace – imagine that! So, what do we have in the Peking Mystery Palace?”

When 'the Great Benyon' first appeared on the stage, Lorne was shocked. His eyes opened wide and he took a deep breath. It really was like seeing his grandad again. The long and white bushy hair was identical – it must've been a wig?

However, as the show went on and this imposter went through his granddad's routines, it was more and more obvious that he wasn't him. He was a bit fatter for a start, and he wasn't as good. No-one was as good as the real Great Benyon, he was the greatest ever!

Orlando did put on a good show. The audience certainly liked him and Lorne, sort-of, did – grudgingly. But he wasn't going to admit that to anyone. He knew all of the tricks, so there were no surprises there and the billiard-cue juggling routine was a complete stuff-up.

But, on the whole, he wasn't too bad, it could've been a lot worse. It was almost like seeing his granddad one more time and he was feeling sadder than ever when they left the theater.

The Great Benyon!

2011-12-03T11:05:00.000-08:00

"Edgar Benyon is perhaps New Zealands most successful Magician. He toured a tented show through New Zealand in the 50s and 60s.
He was awarded the first major trophy of the New Zealand Variety Club in 1969. This has been named after him, the Benny, a lifetime achievement award granted to New Zealand entertainers who, through work in charity, mentoring, and dedication and proficiency in their field have consistently excelled in the industry."

The Great Benyon appeared in my small entertainment-starved hometown when i was about 9 years old - and I fell in love with him! I thought he was the most awesome man alive.

I then devoured every book i could find on conjuring and 'magic'. I could never be an entertainer - far too shy for that, but i did become something of a self-taught expert on magic.

Two years later, i was staying in another small town up North, Atiamuri actually, and the Great Benyon came to town. I was so excited, i was nearly wetting myself!

He appeared in the local hall and i made sure i had a seat in the front row. It was the biggest disappointment of my life to date - he was just a little old man and i knew how he was doing his tricks - I could see the man dressed in black standing in front of a black curtain and lifting chairs etc to make them 'levitate'. I could even see the string attached to his ear that made the magic glitter-ball fly out of its box, around the stage & back in again.

Being a delightful eleven years old and feeling very let-down, i sat there and, very loudly, told everyone how he was doing what he did. He must've wanted to shoot me, but he just carried on and finished his act.

He was a gentleman, an awesome entertainer and i'm sorry about that!

There's more about him here - http://bluesmokebook.wordpress.com/2011/04/06/a-bombardment-of-bewilderment/

(His other trademark was the quick-changes. Between tricks he would walk behind a screen and come out the other side in a different suit,saying, "Same man, different clothes!")

cheers

Lorne & Logan, 8 (probably)

2011-12-02T11:45:00.000-08:00

(Not very good at waiting!)

Logan woke in the morning, long before Lorne did. He was on his right side with his knees bent and Lorne spooned around his back with one arm draped over him. He lay there, quietly reliving what they'd done all weekend It had been a great and busy weekend, but the best times were like now – alone together and cuddled close.

He looked at the bedside clock-radio and up at the wall opposite him. There was a poster there, an old theater poster advertising a magic and variety show. It was definitely old, the paper was yellowed and the faded red and black text sung the praises of the Great Benyon – World Famous Magician and the World's Most Versatile Entertainer, along with his Vaudeville and Revue Company.

That was Lorne's granddad. World's most versatile entertainer? They were pretty big claims, but that was showmanship, he guessed. No poster was going to advertise an adequate magician and entertainer, naturally they'd claim that he was something special. Maybe he really was, his grandson was special.

Lorne moved, he peeled away from him and rolled on to his back. Logan turned over to look at him, his eyes were open, he was awake. “Hi,” Logan smiled. “Sleep well?”

“Like a log,” Lorne replied. “You?”

“Oh yeah, very well.”

“Logan, it's a quarter to seven and it's time we were moving. Dad won't wait if we're late.”

“Yeah. I guess the weekend's over – worse luck.”

“It is, real bad luck. Do you want the first shower? I'll strip the bed and chuck everything in the laundry while I'm waiting.”

“Okay, sure.” Logan looked at the rumpled bed-clothes. “We made a mess, didn't we? Sorry about that.”

“Don't be sorry, it was well worth it. Best time of my life! Anyway, I helped, half of this mess was mine.”

“It was! Okay, I'm showering. Be back soon.”

Logan hurried through the shower. It would've saved water, but probably not time, if they'd showered together, but they couldn't do that while Dan was there. He went back to the bedroom, wrapped in a modest towel, and Lorne went for his shower.

Logan pulled his school clothes out of his back-pack and stuffed the ones he'd worn all weekend in there. The jeans were still a bit damp, but – whatever. He dressed, combed his hair and sat on the bed waiting for Lorne.

When he came back in he was already in his clothes. He threw the towel and boxers at the laundry basket, and missed. “Come on. We'll get something to eat, and then we're gone.”

Dan was at the table, in the living-room, shelling peas. “Good morning, Sleepy Heads. About time you appeared. You've got no time to cook anything. Toast, cereal, coffee and we're gone.”

“No problems.” Lorne filled two bowls with cereal and splashed some milk on them. He spooned in some segments of bottled Black Doris plums, sliced some bread and loaded the toaster. He handed a bowl to Logan and they sat down to eat.

As soon as he'd filled his mouth, Dan asked, “Did you have a good weekend, Logan?”

He gulped and swallowed. “Yes! I mean, yes thanks, Dan. I've had an excellent weekend. Thanks for letting me stay.”

“Thanks for coming, and for setting the computer up – that would've been totally beyond us.”

“It was fun. But, I'm sure you guys could've worked it out yourselves. Lorne's a bright boy.”

“Not as bright as you,” Lorne replied. “I wouldn't have known where to start.”

“The instruction book is always a good place to start.”

“Instruction books!” Dan snorted as he stood up. “Those things are more trouble than they're worth – bloody useless, most of them.” He got three mugs down from the cupboard and poured drinks from the percolator.

“Oh good!” Logan grinned. “Real coffee. Thanks, Dan.”

“I've got news for you, Boy, and it's all bad. That's not what you'd call real coffee, it's more of the erratz stuff.”

“Dandelion roots? Oh well, it still tastes okay.”

“Of course it does and I made it in the perc so, with a bit of luck, there'll be some caffeine in there.”

“And that's good,” Lorne nodded.

On the way into town, Logan sat in the middle in the truck, quietly thinking.

“You're very quiet, Logan,” Dan said.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“That poster on the wall in Lorne's room. That's your granddad, right?”

“Yeah, that was him,” Lorne replied.

“Well how come your surname is Beynon and he was the Great Benyon? Is that a misprint or something?”

“It's not a misprint. Granddad was called the Great Benyon. The manager of the London Coliseum changed it around when Granddad appeared there. He said that Benyon sounded better than Beynon.”

“Actually,” Dan said. “Logan's probably right and it was originally a misprint. The guy probably had hundreds of posters, playbills and programmes printed with the wrong name on them and it would've cost too much to fix it, so Edgar Beynon became the Great Beynon. And that's how he stayed – he was never one to waste a dollar.”

“And he played at the London Coliseum, in the real London? It must be right when it calls him world famous. Wow.”

Dan said, “I don't know about world famous, but he did play in several countries around the globe. Yes, he played at the Coliseum, but he was just one of hundreds, maybe thousands, of acts who appeared there over the years. He made a living, but he didn't make a fortune.”

“Granddad did all right!” Lorne protested. “Maybe he should've been born a hundred years earlier, before the movies killed vaudeville off, but he was still famous. Even Mrs. Carter, the Principal at school, remembers him. She said she was a big fan.”

“I'm sure some people remember him fondly. He was a character and he was good at what he did, but he was never a giant, Lorne. He was just a little man really.”

“He was a giant to me!”

“Sure he was, but you loved him and you were just a little boy. Now you're older and it's time you faced reality.”

“Hmmph!” Lorne folded his arms and stared out of the window beside him.

The air in the truck had turned decidedly chilly and Logan was sorry he'd started it. He tried to calm things down.

“I think I would've liked him too. He was your father, Dan. Weren't you a fan as well?”

“Not much,” Dan replied. “He was never around when I was a boy. He was far too busy touring and being famous. He was retired when he lived with us, so he had more time for Lorne than he ever did for me. Sometimes, when you grow up, you find that your idols have got feet of clay.

Do you want to go home, Logan, or do I drop you both off at school?”

“At school will be good, thanks. I've got all my gear here.”

They stopped in the street outside the school and Lorne slid out. Logan paused when Dan spoke to him. “Well, it's been nice having you to stay. I know Lorne thought so too, and I hope you'll come again soon.”

“I will! Thanks for everything, I've had a great weekend.”

“That's good. Thanks again for your help – and now it's over. Out of here and go to school. I've got work to do.”

He drove away with a toot and the usual 'bang!', trailing blue smoke. For once Lorne wasn't embarrassed by it all. He looked at Logan, their eyes met, they grinned, shrugged and headed in to school.

The day began normally enough, but soon went downhill. Outside their first class, they were stopped by a couple of girls who wanted to know where Logan was on Saturday night. There was a party at the Youth Center, everyone was there, but Logan was not. Why not?

“Sheesh, Girls! I was busy, okay? There's no law that says I have to be at every dogfight in town.”

“There's not, but you're usually there anyway. You were conspicuous by your absence, Mr. Greene.”

“So I had a weekend off. I stayed out at Lorne's place.”

“All weekend? What were you doing out there?”

“Just goofing around. I helped Mr. Beynon buy a computer, and then went out to help set it up.”

“Since when have you been an expert?”

“No-one said I was, but I knew more than they did. It's their first computer.”

“Really? Wow. Welcome to the modern age, Lorne.”

“Thanks, Carrie,” Lorne laughed. “It's good to be here, I think.”

Ruth frowned. “It didn't take you all weekend just to do that.”

“Of course not, but it was too far to walk home,” Logan said. “We just mucked around. Lorne showed me over their property, it's really cool – 150 hectares, would you believe?”

“150 hectares of scrub.”

“There's more to it than that and there's a lot of history there. Lorne's dad took us fishing yesterday.”

“Catch anything?”

“Just one and it was small. But you should've seen the one that got away!”

“Yeah, right.”

They went inside and sat down together.

As soon as Logan sat down next to him, Lorne knew that that was a mistake. He looked around the room and, sure enough, there they were, sitting in the back row and looking scornfully at Logan and him – Graeme Stokes, Liam Hawkins and Ben Rodden – like it was a trial and they were the judges.

Damm. He'd wished that they'd never seen them playing around in the river, but they had – it was too late now. Logan was blissfully unaware of what was going on. Lorne was torn, should he tell him, or should he keep his mouth shut and hope that it all came to nothing?

There was a big match on, against a touring Highschool team. Lorne wasn't playing but Logan was, of course – he was a star player and they needed him.

As much as he could, he kept an eye on the Three Stooges all morning. No-one said anything to him or Logan, but they didn't have to – he could see it in their eyes and the way they looked at them. They were constantly whispering to each other, and to other kids too. Whispering and passing notes. The story was spreading like wildfire and everyone was looking now. Damm.

At lunchtime, Lorne sat alone at the back of the school watching the warm-up game swirling around out on the field and thinking.

He hadn't heard the whispers and he hadn't seen the notes but he didn't have to, he knew exactly wha was in them. He could see it in their eyes. Double Damm!

What was he going to do? What could he do? He didn't care so much for himself. It didn't matter what happened to him, he'd never really been a part of things anyway. If everyone rejected him, well – so what?He had nothing to lose, it would only be more of the same. He could look after himself if things got physical. He still had a trick or two up his sleeve – literally up his sleeve! If that didn't work, he didn't care, he'd survive.

But Logan? Logan had a lot to lose. He had a place here in this school, in this town. He had a top place – he'd earnt it and he deserved it. He didn't deserve to lose it all for the sake of a loser..

He sat and watched the game – watched Logan really. He didn't have a clue what anyone else was doing and didn't care. Logan was such a great guy – simply the best. He was good-looking, but there was far more to him than just that. His beauty was not skin-deep, it went all the way through him right down to his heart.

He was a top athlete, popular and good at everything he did. ('And I do mean everything,' Lorne smiled a little.) But he was never pushy or big-headed with it. He was always the first to lend a hand when someone needed it and everyone liked him – until now.

Lorne sighed and he made a decision. He knew what he had to do.

Lunch Hour was almost over. The players packed it in, finished the game and they were walking back in. Logan was laughing and talking to a couple of guys, and he was headed straight towards him. Lorne quickly packed up his stuff and went back inside, to lock himself in a cubicle in the bogs and hide.

He waited until after the bell had signalled the start of the afternoon and went into class late. Logan looked around and smiled and nodded at the empty seat next to him. Lorne went the other way and sat next to Sarah Meates, on the far side of the room.

Sarah was a nice girl, but definitely not a 'good' girl. She had a reputation, but she was always friendly enough, especially lately. “Hi, Sarah. How's it?”

“It's good,” she smiled. “It's always good.” She slid her pen in and out of her pursed lips, winked and smiled.

He grinned back. “That's good that it's good.”

“Good that you think that it's good that it's good.”

“Well, good!” They both laughed until the teacher shut them up.

He saw Logan looking at him and deliberately looked the other way.

There were only two classes after lunch and he stayed in the same seat, next to Sarah, for both of them. He left before the end of the second class – just packed up his books, went up to the teacher and told her that he had to go.

He knew it wouldn't be a problem. Miss Bennett always tried so hard to be popular, so she was easy to get around. He told her that he had to meet his dad, for an appointment, and he left without looking back. Logan had a practice after school, so he knew he wouldn't be looking for him.

He walked across town to where his dad was working, got into the truck, sat down on the floor where he wouldn't be seen, and cried. He did not want to do this, but he had to.

When he came out and drove home, Dan looked hard at him several times, but he didn't say anything. Lorne couldn't see his own face, but he hoped his eyes weren't too red – he didn't want his dad to know that he'd been crying. Dan already thought that he was too soft and he definitely didn't want to explain his tears.

The first thing he did when they got home was to quietly turn the power off on the phone. It would still work, but it wouldn't ring and he didn't want any calls. He didn't turn the computer on – said he couldn't be bothered with it.

After the chores and dinner were out of the way, he went out for a walk.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere really. I just want to get some fresh air and time to myself.”

“Fair enough. Don't be too late and stay on the paths.”

“See you later, Dad.”

He returned, well after dark. Dan was sitting at the computer and he looked around. “About time too. I was thinking about organising a search party. Logan rang looking for you. Funny really, the phone didn't ring. I picked it up to make a call, and there he was. He wants you to call him back.”

“Not now,” Lorne shrugged. “I'll see him tomorrow.”

“Suit yourself. Do you want the computer for a while?”

“No, you have it. I've got some homework to do.”

“You don't need the 'puter for that?”

“No, it's just revision. I'll be in my room. G'night, Dad.”

“Good night then.” Dan turned back to the video clip he was watching, Lorne went to his room and closed the door.

Lorne & Logan, 7

2011-12-01T12:21:00.001-08:00

In a car, stopped in the middle of the bridge, three faces looked down at them and the look was not good. Seniors from school, Graeme Stokes, Liam Hawkins and Ben Rodden were staring down at them and Lorne knew exactly what they were thinking.

That was confirmed when one yelled, “Fucking Faggotts! Get a room!” and the car drove away.

Logan missed that exchange and he looked up when it was too late. “Who? What was that about?”

“Just some idiot tough-guys looking for trouble. Don't worry, they've gone. It's time we went in and dried off.”

“It is. I'm friggin' freezing now!”

“Come on then, this way.”

They splashed along, downstream to the house. Logan hadn't noticed it before but there was a wooden ladder fixed below the deck and they climber up there.

Standing on the deck, they toed their sneakers off, and then peeled their wet clothes off. Both thought the other looked cute standing there in nothing but boxers and goosebumps.

Inside, the fire was roaring in the open fireplace, behind the screen, and it was deliciously warm in there. Lorne picked up a note from the table and read it.

“Dad's gone to town, he may not be back tonight, tomorrow he's taking us fishing, and we are to behave ourselves.”

“Are we going to?” Logan grinned.

“Not really,” Lorne grinned back.

“Good! Let's start with a shower.”

“A shower? That doesn't sound very wicked.”

“Could be if we're both in there at the same time.”

“Oh, yah! Let's do that then.”

The shower was great, one of the best times either of them had ever known, maybe even the best time. It was the first time that the sex went all the way, they actually entered each other and they both did it.

Logan was first and it was by accident, mostly. There was not a lot of room with both of them in the small shower cubicle and they were pressed close together. They soaped each other up, logan stood behind Lorne, reaching around to hold his dick in one hand, rubbing his chest with the other and humping him from behind, his dick sliding in the crack between his soapy butt-cheeks.

Both of them were excited and jerking around, especially Lorne who was close to coming in Logan's hand. Then, somehow it happened – the head of Logan's stiff dick slid into Lorne's hole and they both froze, eyes opened wide.

“Whoah! Sorry about that.” Logan started to pull out but Lorne reached back and held him there.

“Don't, Logan,” he gasped. “Don't go. Push it in, all the way. Do it, Logan. Make love to me.”

“I do love you, Lorne. You know I do!” Holding Lorne's hips he pushed forward, easily slid all the way in and held it there. “All right?” he whispered.

“Yeah. All right,” Lorne gasped.

“Does it hurt? I'll pull out if it does.”

“No, don't do that. It doesn't hurt. I thought that it was meant to, but it doesn't. It just feels . . I dunno . . . funny. How is it for you?”

“Good, actually – real good. It's all warm and, y'know – good! It feels right. Lorne,I'm in you, right inside you!”

“I know! Do it, Logan – fuck me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure I'm sure. Do it.”

Lorne tried pulling his butt forward and thrusting back again, not very successfully – they just rocked together. Logan held him still, one hand around his hips and the other on his chest. He pulled back and almost out, and then slid in again. And again, and again, faster, harder and faster.

He slammed into him over and over again. Lorne spread his hands on the wall in front of him and pushed back meeting Logan's thrusts. Logan came, his pulsing dick shooting his seed inside him and Lorne came as well, shooting pearly-white streaks on the shower wall.

He pulled out, with a 'plop', Lorne turned to face him. They kissed and stood holding each other while the warm water cascaded over them. “All right, Lorne?”

“Oh yes! Very all right. That was great – thanks.”

“Thanks? Thank you! I love you. Now you have to finish it.”

“Finish it?”

“Yeah. You have to do it to me now. I want you in me too.”

“Oh, yeah! Let's do that, but not here. We'll clean up and go and do it in the bed.”

“You're sure?”

“I'm sure.”

“We will then.”

They did. They didn't even stop to eat first! Amazingly, both of them forgot that they hadn't eaten since breakfast. They were far too busy for eating.

They remembered later though and came out, in boxers and t-shirts to make hot drinks and sandwiches to eat in front of the fire. They sat with arms around each othe, Lorne's head on Logan's shoulder and quietly watching the flames dancing.

“This is nice,” Lorne sighed.

“It's nice. Wish we could stay like this forever.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Your parents must've sat here like this on the night you were conceived.”

“Probably. I don't remember.”

“You wouldn't, would you? Twit!” Logan laughed. “Shame that we can't make a baby too.”

“You think? It might be just as well that we can't.”

“Yeah, might be – not yet anyway.”

“Not yet? It's impossible, Logan.”

“No it's not, there are ways.” “So,” Logan stood and stretched. “Do we turn the computer on or go back to bed?”

“Bed, definitely!” Lorne stressed. “The computer can wait, I'd rather be with you.”

“Me too. Come on then.”

They straightened the bed covers before they stripped off and got in. That was a waste of time, the bed was soon wrecked again. After, they covered up and settled down to go to sleep.

Logan drifted off quickly, but Lorne didn't. He lay looking up at the ceiling and thinking about the faces looking down at them from the bridge – Stokes, Hawkins and Rodden. They were all in the 1st 15 Rugby Team, as well as Logan. They wouldn't give him a hard time, would they? He was the best player they had.

He rolled onto his side and lay looking at Logan's sleeping face. He looked so innocent lying there – not a care in the world. Was his being with Lorne going to bring him trouble? That was not going to happen! He kissed him gently, just touching their lips together, rolled back and, eventually, went to sleep.

In the morning, they were up early – very early. Logan moaned and protested, “It's Sunday!”

“Sure is,” Lorne pulled the covers off him. “It's going to be a beautiful day and we're going fishing with Dad. First we've got to feed the livestock, feed ourselves and pack a picnic lunch. C'mon, Logan, out of bed!”

“Yeah, all right.” He sat up, stretched and grumbled. “It's cold in here!”

“Put some clothes on then. I'll go and start the coffee.”

“Real coffee?”

“Yeah, real coffee to wake you up.”

“Good then. I'm coming.” Logan started getting his clothes together and Lorne went out to the other room.

“Oh. Hello Dad. You're up early.”

“I am. There's coffee in the perc. You boys feed the animals and I'll get a lunch ready.”

“Cool.” He got the mugs and poured two coffees. “Have we got time for breakfast?”

“Of course. There's some rashers of bacon that need to be eaten. Bring back some eggs and we'll scramble them.”

“We, meaning me?”

“You've got it.”

Logan came out, still frowning, and took a mug from Lorne.

“Not used to early mornings, Logan?” Dan smiled.

“I'm not. Especially on a Sunday.”

“You'll survive,” said the heartless Lorne. “Drink up and we'll get going.”

They fed the pig, the goats, the chooks, ducks and geese, the collected a basket of hen and duck eggs and headed back to the house.

“Duck eggs are much bigger,” Logan commented. “Do you eat them too?”

“Sometimes, not often. They're a bit strong, but they're great for baking. Dad usually gives them to the bakery in town and they give us some of their leftovers.”

“A bit of bartering?”

“Yeah. He's really into bartering because there's no tax to pay.”

“Makes sense.”

“It does.”

“There's eels in here. We didn't feed them.” Logan stopped and looked at the eels writhing in the old cast-iron bath with wire-mesh on top of it.

“We're not going to either. They don't get fed. Dad keeps them in fresh water for a few days to clean them out, and then they die!”

“That's a bit mean.”

“They'd eat you if they got a chance. They taste better once they're cleaned out. Dad has got traps set around the lake. Most of the catch is sold, but sometimes we keep some to eat 'em. These are them.”

“How do you eat eels?”

“Lots of ways, but usually as steaks. They make great paste too. That's what we had in sandwiches yesterday.”

“Oh, right. I thought that was fish-pate.”

“It was. Eel paste is fish pate, and good too!”

“Yeah, it's good.”

Lorne chopped some chives and stirred them into the eggs in the bowl before cooking. Logan fried the bacon in one pan while Lorne did scrambled eggs in the other. Dan left three thick slices of bread from the picnic lunch he'd packed, and they sat at the small table to eat.

“Lucky you've got three chairs,” Logan commented when he sat down. (The fourth side of the table was up against the wall, under a window.)

“Yeah, lucky,” Dan replied. “Maybe Lorne's been keeping that chair just for you.”

“Or maybe not,” Lorne said. “That was Granddad's chair. He liked us to eat at the table because it's more civilised or something.”

“He did try to civilise you,” Dan nodded. “That was a wasted effort.”

“It was not! Granddad taught me lots.”

“I know he did. He was quite a man, your granddad. Live your life to make him proud, Lorne.”

“I'll try to.”

They finished breakfast and left the dishes in the sink. “No time to clean up now, we'll take care of them tonight.”

“Yeah?” Logan was impressed. “That would never happen in our house. Mum would go right off! Mind you, we have got a dishwasher.”

“So have I. My dishwasher's name is Lorne.”

“Thanks, Dad. Glad I'm some use around here.”

“Some, but not a lot. Come on then – time we weren't here.”

The three of them fitted easily on the bench seat in the old ute. The lap-belt in the centre hadn't been used in ages so they had to fish it out from behind the seat. Dan drove out to the highway, north to Whataroa, through there and on to the Whataroa River. He stopped the truck on the bridge to have a look at the river.

“Not bad, but it's running a bit fast here. We'll go on down nearer to the mouth, where it spreads out and slows down.”

The truck was left on the side of the road. (“No-one's going to steal it anyway.”) and they had to walk a fair distance down and across the gravel fans to get to the water. They spent the morning fishing on the river-beach.

Dan had brought extra rods for both boys, but he was the only one who caught any fish. They sat under a big old tree and ate lunch – egg sandwiches, salad, fruit and biscuits washed down with 'real' blackcurrant juice.

Logan said, “That was better than the bought stuff, just like you said it was. Not as sweet and much fruitier.”

“Is that a word?” Dan smiled.

“It is now,” Lorne replied.

Dan packed the remains of their lunch back into the basket, stood and stretched. “Okay. One more catch, and then we'll go home.”

They cast their lines and Logan caught a fish right away. It wasn't very big. “Should I throw it back?”

“No, it's big enough,” Dan said. “Just but enough. Time for home then.”

Lorne said, “We don't mind staying a bit longer if you want to.”

“No. I said one fish, and that's it. There's work I should be doing anyway.”

“Right. We're not complaining, are we, Logan.”

“Definitely not. Let's go back.”

Back at the house, Dan stopped and ordered them out. “Take the basket off the back and the fish. Wrap them in old newspaper, I'm taking them with me – I've got a date tonight.”

“Taking fish for your Date?” Logan grinned. “Most guys would take flowers not fish.”

“I'm not most guys.”

“No arguments there – you're not.”

“Anyway,” Lorne said, “a parcel of fish is much more practical, you can't eat flowers.”

“True,” Logan nodded. “But the ladies like flowers, they're much more romantic.”

Dan said, “So you know a lot about the ladies, Logan? Have you got a girlfriend?”

“No, not now, but I used to.”

“You should've given her some fish,” Lorne grinned.

“Okay, Boys. Before you settle down at the computer, fill up another box of fruit and veges. Put in plenty of the mandarins, they're ready now. I'm going to do an oil-change on the ute. It should've been done weeks ago.”

“It's a wonder there's any left, the way it burns it,” Lorne grinned as he scrambled out.

“Don't you be cheeky about my truck! It gets us where we want to go.”

“Sometimes.”

“Most times.”

They carried the stuff inside and Dan moved the ute into the big old shed.

“So your dad's got a date.”

“Yeah, it happens sometimes – well he's not old.”

“I know that, but Mum never does. I wish she would, she's not old either. I don't think she's been out with anyone since my father left.”

“Maybe she's too busy with her boys.”

“That's what she says, but she should have some time for herself.”

They were sitting side-by-side at the computer when Dan came in, showered, shaved and dressed in smart casual clothes. He came back to say goodbye. “I might be a bit late, but I'll be back tonight. Don't stay up too late, you've got school tomorrow.”

“What? Aren't you even going to feed us?” Lorne protested.

“I'm not. You're quite capable of getting your own, that's how I've raised you. I'll be eating in town tonight.”

“Lucky you,” Logan said. “You're looking good, Dan. Who's the hot date with?”

“Thanks, and mind your own business. It's no big deal, I'm just having dinner at a friend's, and then we're going to a movie.”

“Have a nice night, Dad.”

“I will. Behave yourselves and I'll see you in the morning. G'nite, Boys.”

“'Bye Dad.”

Dan put the parcel on the box and carried them out to the ute. He drove away with a 'toot' and a bang – it was still trailing blue smoke.

Left alone, Logan said, “Are you sure it's a lady he's going out with? He didn't actually say that.”

“It's a lady. It wouldn't even occur to him that he could go out with a guy. Dad's not like that.”

“Well, I'm glad the son is!”

“And I'm glad that you're glad.” He kissed him.

“Right then, Mr. Beynon. The first and most important thing is – what are we eating?”

“Pie and chips sound all right?”

“Sounds good. Is that a home-made pie?”

“No, from the bakery. There's heaps of them in the freezer.”

Lorne microwaved four pies, (well, they were little!), and put them in the oven. He carefully carried the small deep-fryer out on to the deck outside and plugged it in to an extension cord.

“Why did you put it out there?”

“Because, if you use it inside it stinks the whole house out. It's a quick and easy way to cook chips, and they taste great, but it pongs. I think it's overdue for an oil change as well. Now we've just got to make some chips and we're done.”

“Make the chips? Haven't you got any in the freezer? We've always got plenty, Mum buys them by the sack-full.”

“Well we don't. It only takes a minute to chop a potato up. I don't see why anyone would buy them ready-made.”

While their banquet was heating, they checked on the computer. Logan had a couple of messages, he'd answer them later. There were none for Lorne, so Logan sent him one. They ate, showered and went to bed – but not to sleep.

Lorne & Logan, 6

2011-11-27T13:24:00.001-08:00

They spent the evening and late into the night; Dan watched TV while the boys played on the computer. He went to bed, about midnight, and told them not to stay up all night – they needed to get some sleep.

After Dan had gone, Logan asked, “Where am I going to sleep?”

“In my bed with me,” Lorne grinned. “As long as you want to, of course. I could sleep out here, on the couch, and you can have the bed.”

“Of course I want to sleep with you! No way are you sleeping on the couch. I'm not putting you out of your own bed.”

“You're the guest here, so you get the best place.”

“The best place is where you are, Lorne. Nowhere else.”

“That's, umm . . that's good. Thanks, Logan. I love you.”

“I love you too – lots and lots. Now your dad's gone, at last, I'll show you some stuff that will blow your mind.”

“Porn stuff?”

“Well, yeah!”

“Cool. What've you got?”

They slept late in the morning, which suited Dan. That meant he could spend some time on the new computer. He knew he was being nosy, but he couldn't resist and he had a look at the History to see exactly what they were looking at last night.

He didn't suceed though. He noted, with a grin, that the browsing history, and also the temporary internet pages were as clean as a whistle – everything in them had been deleted.

'Oh well,' he mused. 'It's none of my business and I shouldn't be looking anyway. They must've been somewhere they didn't want me to know though.'

It was getting on for lunchtime when the boys emerged. Lorne came out first and had a quick shower. He then dressed and started cooking a late breakfast while Logan showered as well.

'Funny,' Dan thought. 'I'm sure I heard them showering last night. When did they get dirty?' He logged-off and stood up.

“Computer's all yours, if you want it. I'm going down to the lake – fishing.”

“Thanks, Dad. But we don't want it yet. Logan wants a guided tour around the property today.”

“Fair enough. Have fun but be careful if you go off the tracks. There are dozens of old mineshafts out there and the timbers over most of them are well-rotted by now.”

“Dad! I know where the shafts are.”

“Ah, but do you know everyone of them? There could be others that you haven't discovered yet. This whole area was worked over a hundred years ago and there are old shafts and exploratory diggings everywhere.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know all that. I grew up here, remember?”

“Okay, Clever Clogs. You haven't finished growing up yet and you don't know everything. All I'm saying is – be careful out there.”

“We will. Thanks, Dad.”

They ate – bacon and eggs with fried green tomatoes, sliced gherkins and onion rings with thick slabs of coarse brown bread.

“Just great, thanks, Lorne.” Logan sat back smiling and sipping his coffee. “A breakfast fit for a king.”

“He'd be a fat king if he ate like that all of the time! But, once in a while is good for a treat.”

“It would. I s'pose you'll tell me that everything was off your property here?”

“Well it was. Not the bread though. We baked it but the flour was bought in town. Everything else, including the bacon, was home-grown.”

“I'm impressed. But the coffee wasn't, was it?” Logan raised his mug.

“Ah, but it was. That's not real coffee, it's a coffee-substitute made from dandelion roots and we grew them. The milk's from our goats. The sugar was store-bought though.”

“You must live quite cheaply really?”

“We do, but it takes a lot of work.”

“You're not working today though.”

“I'm not. I've got better things to do today, and tomorrow too. Thanks for coming to stay, Logan.”

“Thanks for having me.”

“Oh,” Lorne grinned. “I'll have you anytime, My Friend.”

“Choice,” Logan blushed and grinned.

They cleaned up, which only took a few minutes despite having no dishwasher. Logan was horrified. Lorne said that they'd never had one – they were too hard on the power.

“We used to generate our own electricity too, but a flood wrecked everything and Dad decided not to fix it. It was easier, and cheaper, to connect us to the national grid. So now we have unlimited power and bills to pay every month.”

They went out walking and exploring. At first, Logan was delicately picking his way along the drier edges of the narrow, wet and muddy tracks, but Lorne laughed at him and called him a 'Real Townie'.

“Just plow through the middle of it. The puddles are only a few centimeters deep, you won't drown.”

“But I'll get my sneakers all mucky!”

“So? A bit of mud and water won't hurt them. We'll wash our feet in the river when we get back.”

“Oh, okay. I suppose you've done that before?”

“Hundreds of times. I'd go barefoot but you never know when there's going to be something sharp in there.”

“Talking from experience?”

“Definitely!”

“Lorne, this is a big property you've got here.”

“It's big. 150 hectares is a lot of land, more than the whole of Okarito, and a lot of it is on hills – if you flattened it out it'd probably be about 200 hectares – there are smaller farms.”

“Wow. That's a lot of land!”

“Yep. We don't use most of it. It's just regenerating bush and wilderness with a couple of plantations here and there.”

“Regenerating?”

“Yeah. Hard to believe, but a hundred and something years ago this whole area was basically bare earth and rocks.”

“It was?” Logan looked up at the trees towering above them. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I'll show you some old photos when we go back. The early miners weren't good conservationists and they made a right mess of things. They cleared a lot of the bush by setting fire to it and the land was dug-up and turned over, trenched and sluiced. There was even a dredge working along the river for a while, but not for long. They dug it all up, left long rows of boulders in their tailings, and then they gave up – not enough money in it, I guess.

They just walked away and left the place looking like a war had been fought here. They wouldn't get away with that today, and good job too!”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Logan stood looking around. “It has recovered well though, hasn't it? You wouldn't know that this wasn't all virgin forest.”

“You'd know if you looked close,” Lorne grinned. “Ain't no virgins around here – not any more.”

“No, there's not,” Logan grinned back.

“Anyway.” Lorne started walking again. “The land recovers. One thing that the Wet Coast is good at is growing trees – leave it alone and the bush will bounce back. The City Greenies who want to lock everything up never seem to understand that. Trees are just vegetables after all. Cut one down and a dozen more will spring up to take its place.”

“Given time.”

“Yeah, time, and that's what we're giving it.”

“So, where are all these mineshafts that we have to stay away from?”

“Oh, here and there. There's one just here that I want to show you.”

“What? In the hillside?”

“Yep. They're not all vertical, some are horizontal – like this.”

He pulled back the greenery to reveal a dark tunnel in the cliff-face. It was narrow – less than 2 meters wide – and relatively tall – about 4 meters and arched at the top.

“Come in here, Logan.”

“In there? Is it safe?”

“It's safe. The old-time miners knew what they were doing. This tunnel has stood here, with no support apart from its shape, for well over a hundred years and it'll probably still be here in another hundred.”

“It's dark in there!” Logan protested.

“Only for a bit. Your eyes soon get used to it and it's not that long – it's a tunnel right through the hill. There's a secret valley at the other end and you've gotta see that.”

“Um, okay.” Logan followed him inside. “Are you sure this is man-made? I mean, it looks like a natural cave.”

“Only around the entrance where there's enough light for moss to grow. Back in here you can still see the marks of their picks on the walls.”

“You can! It's like time has stood still.”

“Well, sort-of. There's no weather in here to smooth the rough edges.”

“Are you sure it's safe, Lorne?”

“I'm sure. I wouldn't take you anywhere dangerous. Well, as sure as you can be – there could be an earthquake in 5 minutes time, and everything would come crashing down.”

“Thanks for that thought.” Logan looked up at the roof above them. “What's that funny smell? There's no gas in here, is there?”

“No, Logan, there's no gas,” Lorne laughed. “It's not a coalmine. What you can smell is fresh air. I know that's foreign to a townie-boy, but it won't hurt you.”

“Shut up, Country-Mouse!” Logan grinned.

They walked up the slight rise through the tunnel, it wasn't long, the other end was clearly visible and getting larger. Water trickled down the channel on the right of the path but where they walked was high and dry. Logan trod along carefully, the clay floor was a bit greasy underfoot and his sneakers were still coated in mud.

Over three quarters of the way through and nearing the other end, Lorne stopped so suddenly that Logan, watching his feet and the wet patch on the ground, bumped into him. “Whoops. Sorry.”

“S'okay. Can you feel it – the air?”

“The air? Yeah.”

They'd been walking into a gentle draft, but now instead it blowing in their faces it was coming straight down on them. Logan looked up and, “Whoah – awesome!”

They were standing below a circular shaft and the circle of blue sky, criss-crossed with branches, was high above them.

“Pretty cool, isn't it?” Lorne grinned.

“It is! Very much so. This is man-made too, I suppose? Were they digging a well, or was it a humungous long-drop?”

“No, it's not a dunny and not a well either – there's no shortage of water around here. Granddad said that the miners started digging from the top. It was an exploratory shaft for a start and the tunnel came later.”

“Oh. Did they find any gold?”

“Not in here. It was all a complete waste of time and effort, but there was plenty of gold out in the valley ahead of us. It was worked for years and was one of the richest pockets around. It was worked twice actually.”

They walked outside into a green scene that could've come straight out of Jurassic Park. The steep-sided walls of the small valley rose high above them, all coated and covered with green moss and ferns. Slender-trunked trees rose from the valley floor. High overhead, their branches clawed for the sky and competed for the light.

It was a thin and broken roof above them and it definitely would not be waterproof on a rainy day, but it was a roof nonetheless. The whole valley was roofed with a network of slender branches and green leaves.

The path wound along, halfway up the side of the valley and sloping downwards. It was covered in a thick carpet of fallen leaves that crunched and squelched underfoot.

“So, this is your secret valley?”

“Yep. Very secret and don't you tell Dad about this. He knows nothing about it and that's good.”

“Why don't you want him to know? It's his land isn't it?”

“Only for his lifetime. This is my secret valley and what he doesn't know won't hurt him.”

“Just your secret place. Thanks for showing to to me.”

“It's not just that it's a secret, there's more to it than that. You see all of these leaves on the ground?”

“Well, yeah – there's millions of them.”

“There is, and look how thick they are.” Lorne dragged his foot and scratched a trench through the carpet. “They've been dropping here for a hundred years, more or less. If Dad knew about this he'd strip the place bare again and he'd have the lot for mulch in the gardens. He's not getting them. He can get his mulch somewhere else, this is mine. They're like a bandage covering the land and helping to repair it.”

“I see! You're like a Greenie then.”

“Not really, but I'm the guardian of my valley. Grandad knew and loved it, and now it's mine.”

“Good for you then. This whole area was worked over by the miners?”

“They made the valley. It was all carved out by high-pressure water-guns and washed away to get at the gold.”

“Where did all of the dirt go?”

“Through the bottom tunnel, over the long-toms and riffle-tables and out into the river.”

“A big operation!”

“It was, kind-of. Dozens of miners worked in here over the years and after they were finished, the Chinese were allowed in to work it again. You see all these stones along here?”

“Those stonewalls?”

“Yeah. They've all been stacked tidily by hand. That's how you can tell that Chinese miners were in here. The Europeans didn't stack the stones, they just flung them any old how.”

“So the Chinese were tidier, and more thorough too, I suppose? There can't have been much gold for them if it had been worked over before.”

“There wasn't much, but they worked hard and they made a living – scarcely.”

“Why did they bother? There were plenty of other places that they could've had first go at, weren't there?”

“There weren't any. The Chinese were only allowed onto ground that others had already had before them.”

“Why was that”

“Because they were all a pack of racist bastards!” Lorne was flushed with anger now. “Sorry, Logan, but I get mad every time I think about it. People came here from all over the world, mostly from Europe, Aussie and America, and they all treated the Chinese like shit. Bastards!”

“Didn't the Police and the Government have anything to say about that?”

“The New Zealand Government were the worst of the bloody lot of them. The Prime Minister made a public apology for the way they were treated – with extra taxes and quotas and everything – but it was too bloody late, a hundred years too late.”

“Whoah. You get worked up about this, don't you?”

“I do. Sorry. I know it was a different time and the world's moved on, but it was still disgusting.”

“I guess every society needs someone to put-down – like gays today.”

“Exactly. Come on, time we moved on too. That's the bottom tunnel where the water ran out of here.”

“I hope we're not going through there. It's small and dark and there's water in there.”

“Some water, yeah. There used to be much more. They brought it in here on a wooden viaduct, but that's collapsed and gone years ago. We go back the way we came in, it's easier.”

“Drier too – and that's good.”

Back out on the track, they carried on up a hill and into a pine forest. It was very different in there, it was dark under the trees as the direct sunlight never reached the ground. The bare-trunked trees were all planted in straight lines, more or less, and there was hardly any undergrowth at all. Apart from fallen twigs and pine-cones everything was under a mantle of dead, brown pine needles. Even the few large rocks were shrouded in needles.

“This is like an enchanted forest,” Logan exclaimed, “like the ones you read about in fantasy stories. It's magic in here!”

“Not really,” Lorne replied. “There's no magic here – well, apart from these.” He pointed to a cluster of red-capped, white-spotted fungi of various sizes, small to large.

“Toadstools? Oh, yeah, like pixies, or whatever, make their houses in in fairy stories. They're not really magic, are they?”

“Some people say they are. They often grow under pine trees and they're called 'magic mushrooms', but they're not really. These red ones are Fly Agaric. You can get high with them, but you can also die, they're highly poisonous.

The real magic mushrooms are Amanita Muscaria. They're a much stronger hallucogenic and you can eat them. They go well dried and chopped-up in salads – which can make for interesting barbeques and family dinners!

It's actually illegal in NZ to possess or purchase magic mushrooms, which is crazy because they're quite common, they grow everywhere.”

“Just as well they don't grow here or you'd be possesing them.”

“Yeah, just as well,” Lorne grinned. “They don't grow here – they're growing over there.” He pointed to a cluster of smaller, shiny and waxy looking, brown-capped fungi growing on a rotten log.

“They are the real thing?”

“They are. Told you, they grow everywhere. You'll find them in most pine forests and look how many there are!”

“So,” Logan eyed the mushrooms speculatively, “You can just pick them and eat them and get high?”

“No, you can not! And we're not even going to try. I don't do drugs, Logan, and I really hope you don't too. But, if you were going to use them, you'd have to dry them first. Or, you could boil them and then drink the water. That works but gives a much milder effect. Eating them works best.”

“Hey! For someone who doesn't do drugs, you sure know a lot about them.”

“Sure I know. I grew up in a hippie commune remember? The remains of one anyway. Actually,” he looked up, “these trees were here before the commune. They're all about 30 years old now and overdue for harvesting. They were one of the main reasons why they bought the place.”

“For the mushrooms under them?”

“No, for the trees, as an investment. Shame it didn't work out. Dad and the others pruned and tended all these trees for years and years and now they're worth nothing.”

“Because?”

“I told you – there's no local sawmill anymore and trucking them all the way to the nearest mill would cost more than they're worth..”

“That's a bugger. Couldn't you cut them up and sell them for firewood?”

“Could, I guess, but it'd be a lot of work and Dad's not interested. I think he's so disappointed he just doesn't want to know about them.”

“Maybe you could make a job for yourself – get a truck, chainsaw and axes and you could be in business.”

“Yeah, maybe. I don't know what I'm going to do. What are you going to do when you leave school, Logan?”

“Celebrate!”

“Shut up.”

They carried on with their tour of the property. The monoculture of the pines ended abruptly and they were back in the native bush which was much more varied and tangled with the dense undergrowth of the rain-forests. They climbed a short, steep, rise and emerged into a rocky clearing where there was a commanding view down over the valley, to the highway and beyond.

“Wow!” Logan stood on a boulder and looked out. “I knew we were climbing, but never knew we were getting so high up.”

“We've been climbing ever since we left the house,” Lorne replied. “This is just about the highest point on our land. It's a lot easier going back, it's all downhill from here.”

“I'm pleased to hear it.”

They took their time going back, there was still so much to see, and it was late afternoon when the got back to the house. They couldn't go straight inside though, first they had to wash the cloying mud off their sneakers. Their clothes were muddy as well, they'd both slipped and sat down out there.

They clambered down the bank to the river. There was a small, flat and pebbly beach and a wide and shallow underwater shelf before the water got deeper. Well, as deep as it got, it was only a little river.

Logan was bending over, with his back to him, washing his feet in the ankle-deep water. Lorne grinned wickedly and said, “Your clothes are muddy too.” And he pushed him.

With a startled yelp, hands flung out in front of him, Logan fell forwards and plunged into the deeper water. He came up spluttering, spitting water and glaring at him.

“Oh, you'll pay for that, Country Boy!” And he rushed at him.

Lorne took off, downstream, towards the road bridge, but was laughing too much to run. Logan tackled him from behind and carried him down into the water.

They came up laughing and stood face-to-face wrestling and both trying to throw the other down again. Lorne made the mistake of stepping back and Logan lunged and they both went underwater again. They rolled and wrestled and played in the shallow water like a couple of seal pups, laughing all the time.

Gasping for breath, face-up, when his head touched the shallows, Lorne hunched himself back so that his head and shoulders were up on the shelf. He was beaten. Logan was fitter and stronger than he was.

He didn't look very fit though. Logan crawled up out of the water and stopped, on his hands and knees and breathing hard. Their eyes met and they both grinned widely. It was a great moment.

Logan leaned across, lowered his head and he kissed him. Lorne wrapped his arms around him, pulled him down on top of himself and he kissed him back. “I love you, Logan.”

“I love you more than that.”

Lorne sighed as he sat up. It was the perfect end to the perfect day. He looked up and it really was the end. His heart sunk like it was made of lead.

Lorne & Logan, 5

2011-11-24T19:38:00.000-08:00

Back to school. It was just another day, nothing much happened, except for one thing, that is. Logan didn't get involved in any games, he was busy. He spent all the time he could talking to Lorne. They both thought, said and agreed that for two kids from totally different backgrounds, they sure had a lot in common. They thought alike on practically every subject.

Neither of them said anything, but they were both aware that people were watching and there were some disapproving looks – like it was anyone's business who they talked to?

After school, they left together but didn't go to Logan's house. They walked across town to where Lorne's dad was working at the Thomas' place – putting up a glasshouse. They got to the Ute, which was parked out in the street. Lorne opened the passenger's side door and threw his bag in.

“The truck's not locked,” Logan commented.

“No, it never is. Dad's in there and who'd want to steal this old thing anyway?”

“Probably no-one. You just sit and wait, do you?”

“Yep. Sit and wait and do my homework. It's usually finished before we get home.”

“That's smart. This must be your dad coming now?”

A tall well-built guy with thinning blond hair was coming up the driveway.

“Yeah, that's him. Hey Dad, how's it going?”

“Going good. I'll probably finish up here early today. I'll take you home, clean up, and then I'm coming back to town. I've got a couple of things to take care of and I'll be late home tonight. Is this your friend Logan?”

“Yes, this is him. Logan, this is my dad, Dan Beynon.”

“Hey, Mr. Beynon.”

“Hello Logan. Call me Dan, that's my name.”

“Hey, Dan then.” Logan grinned and got a smile in return.

“I stayed at Logan's place last night. He lives with his mum and two brothers, in Reid Street.”

“And you stayed with them? You know you're supposed to go to Shane's if I've gone without you.”

“I know, but I don't like Shane and he doesn't like me either. I'd rather be with Logan.”

“It's good that you could then. You've got a mother and brothers, Logan, is there a father anywhere?”

“Yeah. My father lives in Franz. He walked out on Mum years ago and he's got a new wife. We call her the Bitch.”

“You don't get on then. At least you've got a mother.”

“Yeah, Mum's great. She works full-time, in an office, to support us all.”

“A busy lady. Do you help her?”

“Yeah, I do, a bit. We've got grandparents, Mum's mum and dad, and they help a lot with looking after the kids.”

“That's good. My father was a big help for us when Lorne was younger. I'd better get back to work; it's not going to finish itself. Nice to meet you, Logan. Thanks for looking after my boy last night.”

“No problem, Mr. Dan. It was a pleasure. Mum says he can come and stay any time he likes.”

“That's good. Tell her I said thanks, I appreciate that. See you later, Boys.” He lifted a box out of the back of the ute and went back inside and behind the house.

“I'll go too so you can start on the homework. See you tomorrow, Lorne.”

“Yeah, tomorrow. Thanks for everything, Logan. You're a good mate.”

“I am, aren't I,” Logan grinned. “You're not too bad yourself. 'Bye Lorne.”

“'Bye my Friend.”

Lorne's dad finished work early, just as he said he would, and he drove them home. He didn't have a lot to say and never mentioned going home without him the day before. Obviously it was all Lorne's fault for not being there on time and that was the end of it.

He did want to know about Logan and his family, and Lorne told him that they were great people. He really liked all of them, even the little brothers. He wished that he had brothers.

“Well, you don't.”

They arrived home, Dan said that he didn't have much time and he was in a hurry to leave again. “I'm going to get a quick shower and shave. While I'm doing that you can take one of those banana boxes by the door and fill it up with fruit and vegetables. Pick the best you can find and put in a good variety of stuff. When you've done that, leave it in the truck, get the fire going and you can feed yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, Dad. But who are they for?”

“Just someone in town. We're never going to eat a fraction of what's there even with the chooks and the pig helping. Oh, put some fresh eggs in there too.”

Lorne had barely finished filling the carton when Dan, all cleaned and dressed up, came rushing out again. “All done? Great. Thanks for that. I'm outta here. Don't forget to feed the livestock and I'll see you in the morning, don't wait up. 'Bye, Son.”

“'Bye, Dad.” Lorne watched old truck leave, and then went inside to feed himself first – he was hungry. The livestock could wait a bit.

He was quite capable of looking after himself, that was how he'd been raised, but he did get lonely sometimes. He still missed his granddad and he so envied Logan, at home with his family around him. He wished that he was there with him.

Dan drove back into town, to Reid Street first. He parked the truck, got out and carried the box of fruit and veg into the house at no.16. The front door opened before he got there and a slender dark-haired woman looked out.

“Hi. Mrs. Greene, is it?”

“Yes, I'm Karen Greene.”

“Ah good. I'm Dan Beynon, Lorne's father. Thanks for looking after my boy last night; these are for you.”

“All these veges for us? Wow. Thank you.”

“It's not a lot. We've got huge gardens, far too much for just Lorne and I and everything's coming ripe at once. I appreciate your giving him a bed for the night, and he liked it here too. He's meant to go stay at my mate's place, but it seems he prefers to be here with your Logan.”

“Lorne was no problem at all. He's a lovely boy and he's very welcome here any time he likes.”

“You'll most likely be seeing a lot of him. He really likes your boy and that's good. We're a bit isolated, living away out of town like we do, and he's never really had a close friend before. I'm delighted for him.”

“That's good. You can be proud of him, he's a nice kid.”

“He is, and I'm very proud of him. Logan seems like a nice boy too.”

“Oh, he is that. He's one out of the box, my Logan. I was just going to have a hot drink, would you like to come in and have one with us?”

“Yeah, sure, why not? I've got a few minutes. Thanks.” Dan grinned. He really liked this lady. He got lonely too.

Karen grinned back and she led the way inside. She liked the look of this guy and she forgot all about growling at him for leaving his boy stranded in town. Now was not the time for that.

They sat and talked over coffees in the kitchen and Dan was there for more than a few minutes – the time went fast and he was late for his appointment. When he left he was running and they agreed that he'd come back when he had more time, sometime.

Wednesday morning, on the way in to town, Dan told Lorne that he'd pick him up from school as soon as it was over. “I'll be out the front waiting for you and don't be late.”

“I'll try not to. But that's two days in a row you're knocking off work early?”

“Early enough. I should finish the Thomas' job today, all going well, but we've got to get home early anyway. Ray Cousins is coming out to do a little job for us.”

“Oh? What job?”

“He's putting the phone on. There's already a line there, we've just never used it and had no telephone until now.”

“We're getting the phone on! Dad, that's great. Logan said that we need to get into the 21st century, that will be a big step on the way.”

“It will – one step anyway. We decided that there has to be changes, this is one of them.”

He pulled up outside the school and Lorne got out. “It's a good change too. Thanks, Dad. See you after school.”

“You will. Don't be late.”

He drove away and Lorne went inside with a big grin on his face. His dad did tend to keep things to himself too much, but this great news. He couldn't wait to tell Logan.

The phone was connected and Lorne's first call was, of course, to Logan. His excuse was that he wanted to tell him their new number, but really he just wanted to hear his voice on the phone. He didn't have anyone else to call but they couldn't talk for long – Dan wanted to try it out too.

It was a mobile phone, which would be great for private calls – he could sit outside on the deck and talk on the phone! Logan said that he could hear the river in the background. The only background noise that Lorne could hear was Logan's brothers – fighting again!

Dan was on the phone for hours. He could even take it out into the garden and the workshop or he could fish off the deck with the rod in one hand and the phone in the other. Choice! They didn't know why they didn't do it years ago.

When they went into town next morning, there was another box of fruit and vegetables on the back of the truck. He wouldn't say who it was for, Lorne was told to 'mind his own beeswax'. He found out anyway, when he went to Logan's house after school, there were two empty banana boxes on the back porch.

Logan wanted him to miss his ride so he could spend the night with him again, but Lorne said no, he was going home.

Friday morning, at school, Logan was grinning like a blissfully happy idiot, but he wouldn't say why. Lorne pestered him for a while, trying to find out why he was grinning, but he soon gave up. Logan wasn't telling and he didn't want to lose his best friend.

He was his only friend really. There were others, both girls and boys, who were being nice to him and including him in conversations etc, but he didn't know them much and they didn't know him at all. People were obviously starting to realise that.

Also, there were others who weren't nice at all. He didn't care, much, he was used to that and he was scared of no-one. None of them would cross him now, he had a reputation, his granddad's magic tricks had made sure of that. However, the 'evil; eyes' that were watching him were glaring at Logan as well, and that did worry him. Logan had always been popular and well-liked. Lorne hoped he wasn't going to lose that because of him.

He decided that they were going to talk about that at lunchtime, and what was he grinning about?

He didn't get a chance to talk. As soon as they broke for lunch Logan disappeared and he didn't come back – he wasn't there all afternoon. Lorne was asked where he was but he didn't know, he didn't have a clue and he hated that. He was not a big fan of mysteries. Even though it was probably none of his business, he wanted to know.

After school, he made a beeline to Logan's house, but he wasn't there, no-one was. So, where would he be? He didn't have a clue.

His dad's truck was parked where he said it would be, by the Council Workshops, behind the main street. Lorne sat in it and tried to read a book while waiting to go home. At least he could ring Logan later and find out what he was up to. Oh, Damm! He wasn't sick of him and trying to let him down gently, was he? He sure hoped not. He worried.

His dad came out, got in the truck and started for home and, damm. He was grinning too, but he wouldn't say why.

They arrived home and there was a strange car there, parked by the house, with no-one in it. It was sort-of familiar, he'd seen it before but couldn't think where.

“What's this? Visitors?”

“I've got an early birthday present for you – several presents actually.”

“Presents? But it's not my birthday yet.”

“I said they were early. Here we go . . .”

Logan, closely followed by his mother, came around from the river-side of the house. Lorne fell out of the truck in his excitement.

“Logan!! What are you doing here? Where've you been? I was worried. Your mum brought you out, why? Hey, Mrs. Greene.”

“Hello, Lorne. Pleased to see us, are you? Hello, Dan.”

“Hello to you too. Been waiting long?”

“No, not long. We just got here a few minutes ago. I am so impressed with your gardens. You said they were big and prolific, but – wow!”

“Yeah, they're pretty full. Come and I'll show you around. Where are your other boys?”

“They're okay. They're busily throwing stones in the river.”

“Okay. I hope they don't scare the fish away forever. Come on then. Lorne, there's some boxes in the back of the truck, they're for you. You boys can take them inside.” Dan and Karen went over to his gardens.

“Boxes?” Lorne lifted the tarpaulin and looked. “Oh, Shit! Is that what I think it is?”

Logan grinned. “If you think it's a computer, then – yes.”

“We've got a computer! That is so cool, but what're you doing here. Logan?”

“Aren't you pleased to see me?”

“You know I am. But why?”

“I helped your dad to buy it and now I've come out to set it up and get you on line. It won't take long, but if we're slow enough we can spin it out all weekend.”

“You're here for the weekend? All of it? Choice!”

“Yep. Your dad said I'm your other birthday present, so Happy Birthday.”

“Oh wow. Best present I've ever had and it's not even my birthday yet.”

“So it's a bit early. Let's get this inside and get started already.”

“Oh yah! Thanks, Logan.”

“Wait and see if I stuff it up before you thank me.”

“I don't care if you do. You're here and that's all I care about. I love you, Logan.”

“I love you too. Now come on.”

They carried the boxes inside and started umpacking. If Lorne's grins got any wider he'd look like a South Park Canadian! The desk came first, of course, they had to have to put everything. They set it all up next to the telephone in the living-room and plugged everything in.

When Dan and Karen, along with the two younger boys, came inside, Lorne jumped up, flung his arms around his dad and hugged him long and hard. He'd never been so happy and he didn't care who knew it.

“Whoah. Settle, Lorne. You'll break my ribs if you're not careful. Pleased with your presents, are you?”

“Oh yes! Thanks, Dad. Thanks a million!”

“You're welcome. Just remember it's not all yours; I'll want some time on it too.”

“You what?” Lorne was taken aback – he was thinking about Logan. Having him there for the weekend was the best present ever. And, eww!

“Oh, time on the computer. Of course you will.”

“Yes, the computer. What were you thinking of?”

“Oh, nothing,” he blushed and mumbled.

Jack and Brad saved him from his embarrassment. They'd heard about his magic, from Logan, and they wanted to see some. Logan was busy on the phone, so they sat around the table and he showed them the old cups and ball trick. He let each of them guess the right cup once and only once.

They were impressed, but he wouldn't tell them how it was done. “A magician never tells.”

“But your granddad must've told you.”

“Yeah, he showed you how, didn't he?”

“He did not. I had to work it out for myself.”

“Show us again then.”

“I don't think so. That'd be like telling.”

“Aww! Come on, just one more time.”

“That's enough, Boys,” Karen interrupted. “Leave Lorne alone now. It's time we were getting home anyway.”

“We'll go home and Google it.”

“Good luck with that,” Lorne grinned.

“Google knows everything,” Jack said knowingly.

“Yeah,” Brad agreed. “All you've gotta do is ask the right questions.”

“Okay Boys, out to the car, it's time we were going. Have a good weekend, Logan and you behave yourself. Dan will tell me if you don't.”

“I always do, Mum.”

“Sure you do. Goodbye, Lorne. Enjoy the computer

“Thanks, Karen. I'm sure I will. I've used the computers at school, but they've got all sorts of blocks on them to stop you going places.”

“Maybe we need some blocks here too,” Dan smiled.

“Dad! I was thinking of Youtube and emails and stuff.”

“Of course you were!”

Dan went out to see Karen and the kids off. Lorne sat and watched Logan who was still talking on the phone and following whoever's instructions on the computer. Actually, he just liked looking at him. He was surprised and impressed to see his father's credit card on the desk - Logan was privileged, normally that never left Dan's sight.

Logan finally finished, said thanks and goodbye and hung up the phone.

“I hope that wasn't a toll call,” Lorne said.

“No worries. It wasn't – just an 0800 number. It'd still be worth it if it was a toll call, you're on-line and that's your email address. He shut the computer down.

“Hey! What'd you turn it off for?”

“So I can watch you turn it on. Sit down here and we'll start surfing.”

“Surfing? Are we going to the beach?”

“No! It's an old term for cruising around the internet – 'surfing the web', I think.”

Dan came back inside and cooked dinner for the three of them – stir-fried veges with fish bits. After eating they went out for an hour, shooting possums.

“Early evening is the best time to get them; they've just woken up and come out for a feed.”

Dan had the rifle and Lorne and Logan took turns with the high-powered torch and the sack of dead possums. He shot 5, and then said that would be enough.

“Good job too, the sack's getting heavy.”

“Toughen up, Lorne. If they're heavy, they're too well fed. Bloody Pests!”

Logan stumbled along the hillside bush track in the dark. “I'm sort of surprised that you come out killing them. Aren't Alternatives meant to be into the sanctity of Life, and all that?”

“Maybe,” Dan replied. “But we're back-slidden hippies and we shoot 'em. If we don't, they'll eat the gardens. They think our place is their supermarket.”

“So it's you or them? You don't eat them, do you? Possums carry TB sometimes.”

“Sometimes all too often. No, we don't eat them directly. The pig does that, they can't hurt her, she's got a cast-iron stomach.”

“The pig eats the possums and then you eat the pig?”

“Eventually, yes. Plus she makes manure for the gardens to grow the fruit and vegetables.”

Lorne said, “It's all part of the cycle of life. Of course we kill things, living in the country you almost have to. Don't forget we ate fish with dinner – Dad caught them last night.”

“Oh, okay,” Logan nodded. “We mostly just get our food from the Supermarket, it's tidier that way.”

“More expensive too,” Dan said. “Someone has to be paid to kill it for you. Look at this! Get down off the fence, you Great Big Lump!”

They were approaching the pig-pen and the big sow was trying to climb the fence. Dan handed the rifle to Lorne and took the sack from him. He spilled the carcasses out on the ground, picked them up by their tails, one by one, and slung them over the fence into the pen, to the pig's great and noisy delight.

Logan said, “Don't you skin them or gut them or anything?”

“Nah. The pig doesn't care, she scoffs the lot. There'll be nothing but bones in there by the morning, and most of them will be crunched-up.”

They stood quietly watching the pig gleefully attacking the possums, ripping them to bits, munching and swallowing.

“She's making a pig of herself,” Logan grinned. “It'd be a great way of getting rid of the body if you killed someone.”

“It would,” Dan agreed. “Wake me in the night and you'll find out!”

“We'll try not to do that then,” Lorne grinned.

Logan also grinned, warily – they were joking, weren't they?

Lorne & Logan, 4

2011-11-21T15:19:00.001-08:00

They spent recess togther, leaning on a wall and watching the rough and tumble of the touch-rugby game flowing around the sportsfield. Normally Logan would've been out there with them, but not today. He was more than happy where he was. They were oblivious to them, but there were many eyes watching them.

“Logan Greene with the Beynon kid? What the hell's he doing?'

At lunchtime, things didn't go so good. Lorne was held up by Ms. Bloody Bennett, who was as curious as anyone about what had happened to him. By the time he got free of her Logan had been dragged away and involved in a softball game.

Lorne looked around, everyone was being busy. He saw where Logan was and went back inside to get a book. He usually sat alone, reading, while he ate his sandwiches. Coming back out of the locker room, his way was blocked by four wanna-be tough guys.

“All alone, Fag? What the hell's going on with you and Greene?”

Lorne had always tried to fade into the background and go unnoticed, but no more. It was a small school and he knew these creeps by their reputation, which wasn't good.

Always in a pack and egging each other on, they were notorious bullies and nasty with it. At the end of last year, they put Lucas Ruffino in hospital with a broken arm and cracked ribs. There were lots of people around, but no-one admitted seeing anything, they were all scared of them.

There was no-one at all around now and Lorne had always feared that this day would come. However, he wasn't scared at all and he was ready for them.

“Nothing's going on. We've just been talking, like normal people do.”

“Normal? What the fuck would you know about normal people? Greene has been panting around you like a dog after a bitch on heat.”

“Greene's never showed any signs of being queer before. What've you done to him?”

“Yeah. Are you on heat, Bitch? Or is he already fucking you?”

“Why?” Lorne flexed his hands down by his sides. “Jealous, are you?”

“What?? You dirty little . . .” One of them lunged at him, but stopped when Lorne stepped back and, with an evil little grin, raised both hands and pointed 'puffers' at him. (Inhalation Aerosols, used by asthmatics etc.)

“I wouldn't if I was you,” he said quietly.

“Why?” The Tough hesitated. He was a bit uncertain now, this kid wasn't playing by the rules. He should be terrified, not standing there grinning at them. “What're you going to do, blow us away?”

“No, just this.” He pointed a puffer at the wooden frame and sprayed a quick zig-zag along it.

They all stood and stared as the old enamel paint blistered and bubbled, smoked and flaked off leaving a bare 'Z' shape on the wood.

“Whoah!” The puffers now seemed like threatening gun barrels pointing at them.

Lorne nodded. “It does that to old paint, think about what it'll do to your skin. Be quite painful, having your face fall off, don't you think?”

They did think, they quietly backed-off and walked away. Lorne went outside to sit, read and eat his lunch.

Back in for the first class of the afternoon, (Algebra!), Logan sat next to Lorne. “Did something happen at lunchtime?”

“Lots of things happened, probably. Why?”

“Everyone's looking at you again, and they're all talking.”

“Maybe they're jealous that you want to sit next to me.”

“I don't think so. I don't know what, but I know that something's up. Did you kill somebody?”

“Not yet.”

“What?? Lorne, what's going on?”

The only answer he got was a shrug. The teacher's arrival put a stop to the conversations in the room. “Lorne Beynon?”

Mr. Lawson stood at the front and scanned around the room. He obviously didn't know which one Lorne was.

“Here, Mr. Lawson.” Lorne raised a hand.

“Ah, right. There you are. You are to go to the Principal's office. Mrs. Carter wants a word with you.”

“I'll bet she does,” Lorne muttered. He gathered-up his books, stood and left the room. Mr. Lawson had to slap his desk and yell to quell the outburst of speculative talking.

He arrived at the office, near the main entrance, and looked around. There was no-one in sight except for the School Secretary who was talking on the 'phone and busily ignoring him.. He knocked on Mrs. Carter's door.

A voice inside said, “Sit. Wait.”

He sat on the 'naughty chair', by the door and waited. He wasn't concerned, really, but couldn't help worrying a bit. Was he in trouble or what?

After a few long minutes, the door opened and Mrs. Carter came out and looked at him. He rose to his feet and all she said was, “Come with me.” He started walking and followed, wondering where they were going.

That soon became apparent when she led him into and through the locker room and stopped in the far-side doorway. They both looked at the 'Z' shaped bare patch on the doorframe.

“Well? Do you want to tell me what happened here?”

“Not really,” he shrugged.

“I'll bet you don't, but I want to know. What did you do to this paintwork?”

“I, umm, I burnt a bit off.”

“Why?”

“As a warning. A bunch of bullies were giving me a hard time. I showed them what could happen to their faces if they didn't stop it.”

“Just as I thought. Bloody Bullies! I'm sick of them. Thank you for your honesty. Come back to the office now.”

She led him back there, sat at her desk and waved him to a chair. “Sit down, Lorne. Relax, you're not in as much trouble as you think you are.”

“I can't tell you who they were, Mrs. Carter.”

“I didn't expect that you would, but I have my suspicions.”

“There were four of them, all bigger than me and all out for trouble. I had to do something, so I did.”

“You certainly did. I've never seen anything like that. What did you spray on the doorframe?”

“I, ah . . I'd rather not say. It was just something of my granddad's.”

“Your granddad. That would be the Great Benyon,” she smiled.

“Wow.” Lorne was impressed. “How do you know that?”

“You'd be surprised at what I know.”

“I am surprised. Granddad was the Great Benyon, but he retired a long time ago. He died two years ago.”

“I know that. I was at his funeral.”

“Really? Did you know Granddad, Mrs. Carter?”

“I didn't really know him, but when I was a little girl, I was a big fan.”

“So was I,” Lorne nodded. “I was a huge fan.”

“Yes, well. That's not what we're here to talk about. We can't have you getting around burning the paint off the walls.”

“I'll pay for the damage. Dad could probably come in and fix it.”

“He probably could, but we won't worry about it. That whole area is due for repainting anyway. It can stay as it is, for now. The point is, Lorne, I can sympathise with what you did and I understand your reasons, but I can't approve of it. Whatever that stuff was, it was obviously highly corrosive and far too dangerous for you to be carrying around in the school. I hate to think what would happen if it got on someone's skin.”

“That was kind-of the point.”

“A point well made. Show me the inhalers, please.”

He closed his hands, opened them again showing the two blue inhalers and put them on the desk between them.

“Uh huh. You've learnt some of your granddad's tricks, I see. Lorne, you can't be carrying these things around with you.”

“They're just puffers. I need them, sometimes, for my breathing. It's getting better, but I was a bad asthmatic when I was younger.”

“But you not carrying them to help your breathing.”

“Yes I am.” He scooped them up and put one, and then the other, into his mouth, puffed and inhaled.

“Lorne!” She protested, then relaxed when she saw that he wasn't hurting himself. “Don't do that. You frightened the life out of me.”

“Sorry,” he grinned. He closed his hands around them, raised his fists and twisted them around. He opened his fingers again and small columns of flame danced on his palms, the inhalers were gone. He closed his hands to snuff the flames, opened them and showed his unburnt skin.

“Wow. Now who's impressed? Your grandfather taught you well. All right then. We'll say no more about it, but you've been warned. There is to be no repeat of today's incident and you are not to bring dangerous goods into the school again. If you do, there will be consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly clear. Thank you, Mrs. Carter.”

“Thank you, Mr. Beynon. You can go back to your class now.”

He went back and slipped quietly into his seat. Logan looked at him, quizically. He couldn't talk, he just smiled and nodded. Anything else would have to wait.

They left school together, walking home to Logan's place. As they went, Lorne answered some, but not all, of Logan's hundreds of questions. He told him what had happened, there were already dozens of stories in circulation, but he wouldn't say how he'd done what he did.

There were almost there when their way was blocked by the same four bullies he'd run into at lunchtime, along with a couple more. Lorne sighed, slipped his bag off his shoulder and held it, by the straps, in his left hand. His right hand went into the top of the bag, under the flap.

“You can fuck off, Greene,” one of them growled. “It's your boyfriend here we want, not you.”

“I'm staying right here,” Logan tried to keep the quiver out of his voice. He was no great shakes as a fight, but he wasn't a quitter either. He wasn't running away and leaving Lorne to face the goons on his own.

“Please yourself,” the spokesman sneered. A bat-sized lump of wood came out from behind his back. A couple of the others did the same. “Any sign of those puffer things and we'll break every bone in your hands.”

“I don't think so.” Lorne brought his hand out of the bag and there was a gun in it – a shiny silver-gray Luger.

None of them there had ever seen a pistol, they weren't that common and carrying one was highly illegal, but they'd seen movies and had no doubt about what it was. The bullies all took a step back.

“What the fuck?”

“It's a beauty, isn't it?” Lorne grinned. “It's a Luger – World War Two, army surplus. Hundreds of them were smuggled home by returning soldiers, as souvenirs. Most of them are history now, but not this one. Nasty little things too. The bullets are grooved so they explode on impact and blow great holes in human bodies. Not accurate at long range, but deadly close-up.”

He scanned it along, pointing at each of them in turn.

“Who wants to try it first? I've got 6 shots.”

They all took another step back. One of them dropped his bat. “Fuck!”

“That's not real, it can't be. He wouldn't be walking around with a loaded gun.”

“Wouldn't he?” Lorne fired up into the flowering magnolia tree looming above the fence next to them. The shot sounded awfully loud in the quiet street. Birds squawked and fled and a shower of pink and white petals cascaded down.

“I've got 5 shots.” Lorne looked along the frightened faces. He was not grinning.

“Fuck this! I'm outta here.” Another bat hit the ground and its erstwhile owner turned and fled up the street, closely followed by all the others.

“That ends that then,” Lorne nodded. “Let's go.” They carried on walking.

“You shouldn't have done it, but thanks for standing with me, Logan.”

“I'll always stand by you, but – shit Lorne! You can't go walking around with a loaded gun. You could get into all sorts of trouble.”

“Trouble?” He lifted the gun, pointed it at his own head and pulled the trigger. A small flame flared and burnt at the end of the barrel. “For carrying a fancy cigarette lighter?”

“But . . . you . . . how did you do that?”

“Magic,” he grinned. “Great, isn't it?”

“It bloody is!” Logan grinned back.

At his house, Logan unlocked the front door ands he raced inside. “Busting for a leak! Help yourself to a drink. There's coke in the fridge, I think.”

He returned from the bathroom feeling greatly relieved, Lorne was looking out of the kitchen window.

“You're not having a drink? I am, it's what I do when I get home.” He opened the fridge and looked. “Damm. No coke! Those blasted kids must've got into it, there was plenty there last night. It'll have to be fruit juice then. Would you like some blackcurrant juice?”

“Yeah. That sounds good, thanks.”

Logan poured two glasses full and they took them in to sit in the living room.

“Don't spill it or Mum will kill me. Blackcurrant juice stains really bad.”

“I'll try not to do that then.” Lorne drank a mouthful, and then another. He held the glass up to look at the light from the windows through it.

“Something wrong, Lorne?”

“No. Not wrong exactly, but this is not blackcurrant juice.”

“Sure it is. It says so on the bottle.”

“Maybe it does, but it's wrong. We make our own juice at home and it tastes nothing like this.”

“So this is not home-made. Don't you like it?”

“I think I do. It's just not what I was expecting. This is much sweeter than the real thing, it must be loaded with sugar.”

“And that's bad?”

“Not bad, different.”

“I guess there's currants in your gardens. You guys have got huge gardens out there.”

“They're big. Between the gardens, kai moana, fishing and hunting sometimes, we're pretty much self-sufficient in food. All we need to buy is sugar, flour and that sort of stuff.”

“The gardens must be a lot of work.”

“They're not really. They were well designed and laid out on permaculture principles, with companion planting and organic pest control. They're nowhere near as random as they look. We spend more time harvesting than anything else.”

“That's good planning.” Logan put his drink on the cluttered coffee table. “Speaking of plans – what I did the other day, the sex stuff, that was not planned. I got way too carried away, I was wrong and I'm really sorry.”

“Yeah. You said. Don't beat yourself up, Logan. You've already apologised and it's over.”

“So we're good?”

“We are very good.”

“I've learnt my lesson, I won't get carried away again.”

“Hey.” Lorne put his drink down next to Logan's. “It's okay to get a bit carried away. You've earned that.” He kissed him.

They fell back to lie along the couch together, face to face, crotch to crotch, and kissed. Logan was instantly hard and he could feel that Lorne was too.Whatever else he was, this was one damm sexy boy!

He pushed his groin against him. It felt so good. He knew that he shouldn't, his brain was saying no but his body wasn't listening – like it had a mind of its own. He made thrusting, rubbing, circular movements with his hips, rubbing his hard and confined dick against Lorne's.

'So good! So, so . . so wrong! Damm.' He was doing it again. Did he want to drive this boy away, or what? Egg!

He pulled back away from him and rolled off to lie on his back with a crooked arm covering his flushed face.

“Logan?”

“Sorry. I'm sorry, Lorne. Really I am.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I'm doing it again – the sex stuff. I know I shouldn't. I know that we can't do that, but I . . . I can't help myself. I'm so stupid! Sorry. I really . .”

His words were cut off when his mouth was covered by Lorne's. He lifted his head and grinned down at Logan.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Last time was then; this is now.” He kissed him.

“Oh yeah!”

It's hard to kiss someone when you're grinning as widely as Logan was, so he stopped smiling. They had less than 2 hours before Logan's mother and brothers were due home. They made the most of the time they had.

When Mrs. Greene walked into the kitchen Logan and his friend were sitting opposite each other with drinks and their school bags on the table between them. It all looked totally innocent and she wasn't fooled for a minute, it was too innocent. She was a teenager herself once.

“Hello Logan. Who's your friend?”

“Hey Mum. Have a good day? This is Lorne – Lorne Beynon.”

“Of course it is! We've been hearing about no-one else for days now. Hello Lorne, nice to meet you at last. I'm the mother – Karen Greene.”

She extended a hand and Lorne stood up to take it. “ Hey Mrs. Greene. Nice to meet you too.”

“Call me Karen, Kid. These are my other monsters, that's Jack and this is Brad. Say hello, Boys.”

“Hello Boys!” the two younger boys chorused and Lorne grinned.

“Hey Guys.”

The boys headed through to the TV, they weren't that interested in their brother's new friend – nothing to do with them. The mother was interested though.

“So, Lorne, have you got any brothers?”

“Nope. I've often wished I did, but I've got no brothers.”

“Sisters then?”

“No, none of them either. There's just Dad and I, no-one else.”

“You must have a quiet house. Logan said that you live away out of town, by the Waitangi River.”

“Waitangitanoa River. Yes, we do. I was born there and we've never moved.”

“Just you and your Dad. Where is your mother?”

“I really don't know -she moved.”

“And left you behind.”

“Yes. I don't remember her at all, I was just a baby. My parents were never married or anything. I think they were basically friends who got a bit too close one drunken night and I happened. She stayed around for a few months after I was born, and then decided that she didn't want to be a mother, and left.”

“That's hard.”

“I suppose it was. I don't remember. Luckily, Dad wanted me and he kept me and raised me. My grandfather, Dad's father, lived with us for a while, but he died two years ago so now there's just us.”

“Well, it seems like your father has done a pretty good job of raising you. It's not easy being a solo-parent, that much I know.”

“You've done a good job too, Mrs. Greene – an excellent job. Raising three boys can't have been easy.”

“We've had our moments and it's not finished yet, but they're good kids really – I quite like them.”

“I'm sure they like you too. Logan does, he told me so.”

“Did he just? I wish he'd tell me sometimes.”

“Mum!”

“Quiet, Logan. We're talking about you not to you.”

She made herself an instant coffee and they sat and talked, until Lorne noticed the clock on the wall.

“Whoah! Is that the right time?” He rose to his feet.

“More or less,” she replied. “I think it's right, I hope so. I set my watch by it.”

“Bugger! Sorry, I mean, Blast! I've gotta go, I'm late. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Greene. See you tomorrow, Logan. 'Bye.”

He grabbed his bag and headed for the door, pausing there to put his shoes on.

“What's the panic, Lorne?” Logan followed him. “Your dad will wait if you're a few minutes late, won't he?”

“No, he won't. That is the problem, he won't wait at all. The deal is if I'm not there he goes without me.”

“Really?” Logan followed him out to the street. “But what would you do then? It's a bloody long walk home.”

“It is, it's too far. I've done it before and by the time I got there, it was nearly time to come back again. I'm not doing that again.”

“Damm!” Logan was hobbling along on his bare feet but he wasn't giving up. He was worried about him now. “I can't believe he'd go without you. That's really hard.”

“I guess. That's the way it is. Dad's a hard man and he sticks by the rules.”

Around another corner, he looked up the street.

“Damm! He's gone. He was working at the Thomas' place and the truck's not there. I've missed him.”

“Bugger. What are you supposed to do now?”

“If I miss him, I'm meant to go and stay at his friend's place – at Shane Jones' house. I'm not doing that – no way!”

“Why not if he's your dad's friend.?”

“He's dad's friend, not mine. I don't know why Dad likes him, but he does. I don't. He's a horrible creepy old man and I'm not sleeping there ever again. Last time I did, I woke up and he was climbing into the bed with me.”

“With you? Why would he do that?”

“Why do you think, Logan? He'd like to fuck me and “I'm not doing that. No way.”

“What did you do?”

“I ran away and I spent the night sitting under a tree in nothing but my underwear. It was bloody cold and I'm not doing that again.”

“What are you going to do? Come back with me and you can stay the night at our place.”

“I can't. Your mum has got more than enough boys as it is. No, I'm better prepared this time. I've got a block of land, on the Forks Road at the edge of town. I'll stay there.”

“You have got a block of land?”

“I have. It's about a hectare and it's all in bush, on the hill above the road. Granddad was going to build a house there, but he never did and it's all mine now.”

“Wow. You know, Lorne Jackson, you must be the richest kid in town. But if there's no house there, where are you going to sleep? Under a tree again?”

“Well, sort of. I've made a bit of a shelter. It's rough but it's good enough. I'll sleep there.”

“No! You can't do that. You'll freeze your butt off. You don't have to sleep there, you've got your own friend in town now. Come back and sleep with me. I've got a huge bed, there's plenty of room for two and it'll be fun.”

“Fun? You just want to get me into your bed to have sex with me?”

“Yeah, sure. I'd like that, but only if you want to, we don't have to. No-one's going to make you do anything that you don't want to. Just being together will be fun. So, will you? Please?”

“Oh, yes please!” Lorne grinned. “I'd love to do that, but only if it's all right with your mum.”

“It will be fine with her. Come on, let's go tell her that she's got another mouth to feed.

Karen had no problem with Lorne's staying the night with Logan. She told him that he was welcome and that she's far prefer him to be there and not sitting under a tree.

“He has done that before,” Logan said.

“Well he's not doing it again. I think it's terrible that your father would go home without you and, if I see him around, I'll tell him that too.”

“Please don't, Mrs. . . umm, Karen. I knew the rules and that's the way it is. He doesn't wait and if I'm late it's my problem.”

“It shouldn't be. You're just a boy and he's far too hard.”

“He is,” Logan agreed. “When Jeffrey took me out the other day, he said that if I was late he'd go without me, but I don't think he really would. Your dad does.”

“If he says he's going to do something, he does it. It's just the way he is.”

“Lorne, before you sit down, phone your dad and tell him that you're here for the night.”

“Umm, thanks, but I can't do that.”

“Why not? Oh, won't he be home yet?”

“Makes no difference if he is or not,” Logan said. “They haven't got the phone on out there and no internet either. Incredible, eh?”

“It is! I didn't know anyone still lived like that.”

“We do,” Lorne said. “We've never had the phone on. Dad's got a cellphone, for his work, but it only works in town. There's no coverage out at home.”

“Amazing. Well, set up the table, Boys. Tell the little ones to clean up and we'll eat.”

They had a great evening together. Logan got out of washing the dishes because he had a visitor, which was good. They played a game on the computer and watched some TV together. (Yes, Lorne had a TV at home. Of course they did, they weren't totally primitive.)

Neither of them had any homework, nothing that couldn't wait anyway. Which was good. They showered, separately, and climbed into bed together. That was good too, that was really good! They had a great night.

Lorne woke in the morning in the unfamiliar bed. He lay quietly smiling and thinking about the night before. He rolled over and Logan was looking at him.

“Hi.”

“Hey'

“What're you thinking?”

“You really want to know? Okay, I'll tell you. I think I love you, Lorne.”

“Yeah?” he grinned widely. “I think I love you too.” He kissed him.

Lorne & Logan, 3

2011-11-18T11:28:00.001-08:00

(in a hurry!)

Instead of going home, he went to his uncle's place. Uncle Jeffrey, his mum's brother, lived alone and he worked night-shift more often than not, so hopefully, he might be able to cadge a ride with him.

He arrived there and the door was locked. Still in bed? He hoped he wasn't working day-shift. He rang the bell and waited. He was about to give up and go, when ('Yes!') the door opened and his bleary-eyed uncle looked out. “Logan?”

“Hey, Unc. I didn't get you out of bed, did I? Sorry 'bout that..”

“No, I was already up. You caught me in the loo actually. What can I do for you, or did you just come to see my smiling face?”

“Is this your smiling face? I need a favour, a huge favour. Please, pretty please!”

“A favour? Stop batting your eyes at me, Boy. That won't work. Tell me what you want and I'll tell you if I'll do it.”

“I need a ride, out to Richardson Road, on the Waitangi River, about 20k out of town. Can you take me there please? Like, right now.”

“I know Richardson Road, that's about the limit of our patrolling area. Why do you want to go out there, like right now?”

“I've got to see a friend who lives out there. Well, I hope he's still a friend. We had a row on Monday and he hasn't been back to school since then.”

“Oh? Oh yeah – would your friend be the Beynon boy, Dan Beynon's kid?”

“Yeah, that's him, Lorne Beynon. Can you take me, Unc? It's way important.”

“Of course it is! It's always important and almost the End of the World at least once a week. Yes, I'll take you just because I'm the best uncle ever. Give me 5 minutes to have a coffee, and then we'll go. We'll go out on the bike, it's time it had a run to blow the cobwebs away.”

“On your old bike? Are you sure it'll get us there and back?”

“Don't you be cheeky about my old bike. She's a classic and very reliable if you treat her right.”

“Sounds like a woman,” Logan grinned. “But still an old one.”

“Are you sure you don't want to walk?”

“Very sure. Did I tell you that you're my favourite uncle?”

“Greaser! I'm the only one you've got.”

“True, but I don't need any others.”

“Okay, knock it off!” Jeffrey laughed. “I've already said I'll take you out. Come and have a coffee with me.”

Both of them dressed in black imitation leather outfits – jackets and leggings. Jeffrey wore a black full-face helmet and Logan had a cherry-pink one with a black visor. They wheeled out of town, riding on the old BSA. When they passed the 'Open Road' speed limit sign, Jeffrey pulled the throttle right back. That increased the engine roar, but didn't really do much about the speed.

However, it was only a few minutes before he slowed and turned off the highway onto a narrow, scrub-lined side-road. Richardson Road was sealed, but really needed resealing – you notice these things on old bikes with bad suspension. Hitting potholes was not fun.

He stopped next to a gravelled driveway which wound out of sight in the trees. “There you go, Boy. Dan Beynon's 23 Richardson Road. Go in there and do what you've got to do and I'll give you some privacy. I'll carry-on down to look at the lake and I'll be back here in exactly one hour. If you're not here waiting, it'll be a long walk back to town.”

“I'll be here. Thanks, Jeffrey. If I do have to walk all the way home, I'm telling your big sister on you.”

“I'm not scared of your mum. Once I was, but not now. Put your helmet on the carrier and I'm gone.”

“Okay. Why do I have to wear a pink helmet when you've got a cool black one?”

“Because, Nephew, you're smaller than me and my spare leathers and helmet are for the ladies to wear.”

“I'm wearing a woman's outfit?”

“You are, and very fetching you look too. I normally only take female passengers; I'm not riding around with big hairy blokes cuddling me.”

“Hey! I'm a bloke.”

“Almost. You're still a boy to me. Okay, see you soon.”

He restarted the bike, crossed the narrow wooden river-bridge and roared away down the road. Logan stood watching him go, then turned to face the driveway. Butterflies were going crazy inside him; he was really nervous now. That was dumb, he wanted to be here and he'd come all that way.

Which was going to cost him, by the way. Jeffrey never did anything for nothing, there was always a payback.

He could just stand there, wait an hour, and then go home, but that'd be even dumber. He forced himself to start walking. Around the corner, the greenery opened out suddenly. What had looked like dense bush from the road was nothing but a big, thick hedge. These people must really like their privacy.

Or, maybe it was a windbreak for the gardens. There were huge, busy gardens there, all on the left side of the driveway. Flowers, vegetable, berry-fruit and trees were all mixed together in glorious profusion. It was like no garden he'd ever seen.

There was no room for weeds to grow in the overflowing beds which were separated by narrow paths. Ripening fruit, pumpkins, beans and cucumbers growing on trellises and every sort of vegetable imaginable. Very impressive! You could feed a town on what was growing here.

There was a huge pink and black pig in a pen, along with a lot of chooks and ducks roamed free everywhere – probably because they eat snails and other pests but they don't scratch and dig like chooks do. The ducks were mostly white, but there were a few black ones too.

There was also a couple of geese sitting in the long grass on the right of the drive. For a start, he thought that they were oversized ducks, but they weren't, they were geese. One of them had half a dozen busy babies playing around her.Goslings?

He'd better be careful of them. Geese are good watchdogs, aren't they? And they were aggressive too. These ones weren't, at the moment, they just sat there looking at him. He gave them a wide berth anyway, in point in upsetting them if he didn't have to.

The long grass sloped down to the small fast-running river. There were a few beech trees dotted along the near side and a solid wall of trees over at the far side over the water. Close to the riverbank there was a small ramshackle and crooked house overshadowed by two trees.

The corrugated iron roof and chimney were painted dark-blue and almost thatched with fallen leaves. The house walls were about half and half, rough old weather boards and vertical corrugated iron, all painted a dull and faded white. There was a wide wooden deck along the riverside wall and the whole structure leaned back away from the water. The windows were tiny and there weren't many of them. It all looked like an old homemade house.

Further along the drive, at the end, there was a collection of rough old sheds clad in iron with a variety of colours, largely rusty. 'This here must be their house then,' Logan decided.

A power-cable crossed the river to connect to the house. It'd probably help stop it falling down too. A trickle of white woodsmoke was coming from the chimney, apart from that there was no sign of life there. He went over and knocked on the door.

It was only a couple of minutes until the door opened, but it seemed like ages. Lorne appeared in the doorway. His hair was a mess; he had a bad case of bed-hair. His blue eyes opened wide, they dull and lifeless looking and his face was a sickly pale colour, but – 'Wow!'. The body!

All he was wearing was an old, worn and faded pair of track-pants. His feet were bare and so was his torso, upper body and arms. 'Wow! Again.'

Logan had seen heaps of internet pics of adolescent males, who hasn't? But to actually come face to face with a half-dressed good looking boy was something else and much, much better. Good looking? No. Lorne wasn't good looking, he was way better than that. He was sensational. Logan stood open-mouthed and staring, feeling stunned. 'Oh, my . . wow!'

Lorne's body was not skinny, but it wasn't far from it, especially around the narrow waist. His broad shoulders were twice as wide as his waist. A perfect 'V' rose to the slightly-bony shoulders, muscles, pecs and abs swelled beneath the golden skin.

The skin! It was incredible – hairless, soft and smooth, warm, golden and fully fleshed. It was absolutely flawless and there was not a spot, not even a single mole, anywhere. Nothing. Amazing. He'd seen that Lorne's face looked good, but nothing had prepared him for the body. It was simply perfect and oozing sex - fully ripe and ready. Logan could've stood there all day, admiring it.

“Logan?” A quizzical smile appeared as he looked at the boy staring at him. “Logan, what on earth are you doing away out here?”

“I, umm – yeah,” Logan came back down to earth. “Are you okay? I mean, you haven't been at school since Monday and I was getting worried about you, really worried.”

“You must've been,” Lorne smiled. “Nobody ever comes out here.”

“Well, I had to. I had to know if you were all right and, also, I need to know if we're okay? I'm really, really sorry about – well, you know. Sorry. Are we still friends?”

“Whoah. Slow down, Logan. Yes, we're friends; I hope we are because I want to be your friend. I'm all right now, nearly all right. I've been horribly sick, but it's getting better. I think I'll live.”

“I'm pleased about that then. What was wrong? You getting better?”

“I am, slowly but surely. Dad says it was just the 'flu, but there's no 'just' about it. I've never felt so bad!”

“Good that it's over then. 'Flu can be a lot more serious than people think – especially the 'Man Flu'.”

“That'll be the one I had then. It was way serious. I'm standing in a draft here and that's not good. Do you want to come inside?”

“For a few minutes, yeah. I can't stay long. I got a ride out here with my uncle and he says that if I'm not there waiting for him in one hour, he's going without me.”

Lorne led him inside. “Would he really do that?”

“Probably. Well, maybe not. He'd more likely stop a couple of k's up the road and wait for me there.”

“You've got a mean uncle.”

“Sort of. He's not really mean, he just pretends he is and he's got a strange sense of humour. So this is your home?” Logan looked around the crowded little, low-ceilinged, living-room. Everything looked old and mis-matched, like the variegated squares of carpet on the floor.

“This is it.” Lorne sat on the couch and, worse-luck, pulled an old blanket around himself.

That was sensible, Logan knew. There was only a small fire in the open fireplace and it was not overly warm in there, but – 'Damm!' The amazing body was out of sight.

'Oh well, nice while it lasted,' he shrugged mentally.

“This is the only home I've ever known,” Lorne continued. “I was actually born in this room – right there in front of the fireplace.”

“Yeah? Wow. Not many people can say that.”

“Some can. Homebirths are getting more common. There weren't so many back when I arrived, but my parents were a couple of Alternatives, so that's the way we did it.”

“Alternatives?”

“That's what they called themselves. They were Hippies, if you like – getting back to basics and in touch with nature and all that stuff. The dream was to start a commune here, but it didn't work out.”

“It was all too much like hard work, I think. It was easier to get a job and work 8 hours a day instead of every waking hour for no pay. When people are stoned out of their skulls, you're not going to get much work out of them anyway. Dad was a worker, but he was the only one.”

“Now there's just you and your dad here? Where's your mum?”

“Who knows? We don't. They were never married and she just drifted away with some of the others and left us. My granddad lived here with us for a few years, he actually owned the property, he died a couple of years ago. We're sitting on 150 hectares here. There's a couple of small plantations, but it's mostly in bush and scrub.”

“Plantations?”

“Trees - Western Red Cedar and others, including Pines of course. They were planted as an investment when they first moved in to the property. They're ready for milling but they're not worth much now. It was not a good investment. I dunno what Dad's going to do about them, leave them growing I suppose.”

“But why wouldn't they be worth much?”

“There are no local sawmills any more, they've all shut down. To get the timber milled, the logs would have to be trucked away and that's not cheap.”

“I see. That's a shame – a disappointment after waiting all those years.”

“Tell me about it!”

“Was your granddad a Hippie too.”

“Alternative. No, he wasn't. He helped dad with the gardens and stuff, but he was never into the lifestyle thing. He was different though.”

“Different? How so?”

“He toured with circuses for years.”

“Circuses? Like big-tops and elephants and stuff?”

“You've got it.”

“Wow. That'd be cruisy. What a life! Was he a lion tamer or something?”

“No, nothing like that. He was a magician actually, a good one too.”

“A magician? Circuses don't have magic tricks, do they?”

“They did when Granddad was there. He was a clown who did magic. He was really good too. When he was younger he did stage shows and he was quite famous, as the Great Benyon. He liked the circus life, it was more fun and he didn't have to worry about the business side of things.

My granddad was a very cool guy and I still miss him like hell!”

“I guess you would. And that's why you never smile much! Did he teach you any magic tricks?”

“Oh yes. All of his old tricks and equipment are mine now. He left everything to me because Dad was never interested and I was the no.1 grandson.”

“Pretty cool to be no.1.”

“Pretty easy when you're the only one. How about you? You said you've got a mother and two brothers. Where's your dad?”

“Not far away. He's in Franz Josef, he manages a big hotel there. I don't see him much, but the kids go there a lot. They think they're living the Suite Life when they're there.”

“Suite Life? Oh, that old TV programme, you mean.”

“That's the one. They're not twins though, just brothers.”

“Just brothers. I wish I had a brother, but I don't.”

“They're a pain in the butt sometimes, but not always.”

“They're boys then. Why don't you spend more time with your dad, don't you get on?”

“Yeah, we do, sort of, but his new wife's a bitch. She doesn't like me and I don't like her. I'd rather stay at home with my mum. She's got no-one else.”

“Families are complicated, aren't they. Why did they split-up?”

“I'm not sure exactly. Lots of reasons, I suppose. He walked out and left Mum when she was pregnant with Brad. That's really low when you think about it. Mum hasn't forgiven him, she never will.”

“That's no surprise. I wouldn't either.”

They talked for a few minutes, and then Logan had to go. It was a long walk back to town and he didn't want to have to do that. Lorne said he'd come out to the road with him, but he told him not to.

“Stay here, look after yourself and get well. Are you coming back to school tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? I don't think so. It's Friday, I might as well have the rest of the week off.”

“Will you be in town in the weekend?”

“Probably not. I'll see you at school on Monday.”

“I'll look forward to that.”

“Yeah, me too,” Lorne grinned.

“Lorne, you've got no cellphones, no land-line, no computer. Tell your dad he needs to get into the 21st century.”

“I wish he would. We could do with a new house too, but he won't build one. He says this old place is good enough for the two of us and he likes fishing off the deck.”

“Is that why the house is so close to the river?”

“Yep. It was built as a fisherman's lodge – just someone's hobby thing. Dad and Mum moved into it temporarily. They were going to build a proper house, but things happened and they never did.”

“I guess it'd cost a fortune to build a new house, especially way out of town like this.”

“It'd cost, but not too much. Dad could do a lot of the work himself, he's a good handyman-builder and I could pay for it.”

“Really? You could afford to buy a house?”

“Well, yeah. I've got pots of money, just sitting in the bank. Granddad left most of his money to me.”

“He left money to you and not your father? Wasn't he his son?”

“Yes, of course. Dad got some money, but not much. He got the property and that's worth heaps.”

“Oh. So you're rich then?”

“Kind of. Dad says it's better to leave the money where it is. It's invested, it's growing and it will be there when I need it.”

“That makes sense. You don't know where you'll finish up living.”

“Oh, but I do. I'll be living here. This is my home and I couldn't see myself living anywhere else. It'd be nice to have wheels though.”

“I guess it would. You're a long way out of town. Lorne, I've gotta go or I'm gonna be late. I'll come back in the weekend, if I can. Otherwise, I'll see you at school on Monday.”

“You will. Come back anytime you like. Thanks for coming out today.”

“Thank you. I had to know if we were okay. It's good that we are.”

“Yeah, it's good. Now go or you'll be walking.”

“Yeah. 'Bye, Lorne.”

Lorne & Logan, 2

2011-11-16T13:12:00.000-08:00

Logan arrived home and let himself into the house, unlocking the door with the key worn on a strap around his neck. This was the only time of the day that he had the whole house to himself.

His mum didn't get home from work until after 5pm and she picked up his younger brothers, Jack and Brad, from the grandparents' on her way. Her parents lived across the road from the little boys' school so they went over there after 3pm everyday.

Logan could've gone there too, if he wanted to, but he didn't usually. Gran and Granddad's house was out of his way, he didn't need babysitting and he quite liked some time alone to do whatever he wanted. A boy needs privacy sometimes.

He wasn't getting it today though. He'd only been there a few minutes and was barely getting started on what he usually did as soon as he was home alone when the door-bell rang.

“Dammit! Nothing's going right today.”

He pulled up his pants, went to the front door, opened it and – 'Whoah!' Lorne Beynon was standing there grinning at him. This was all right – better than all right, but what was he doing here?

“Lorne?”

“Hello, Logan. Can we talk?”

“Talk? To each other? Yeah – great! But not here. Come on inside.”

He led the way into the living-room, waved at the couch and flopped into an armchair. “Have a seat. Don't mind the mess in here. Mum does try to keep it tidy but she's fighting a losing battle with three boys messing it up.”

“It's not that bad.” Lorne lowered his bag to the floor and sat down, looking around the cluttered room. “Just looks a bit lived-in, that's all. Who are the three boys?”

“It's lived in all right,” Logan nodded. “The boys are my brothers, Jack and Brad, and me. Mum's outnumbered three to one.”

“You've got brothers? I didn't know that. Are they at home now?”

“No. They won't be home for a couple of hours yet. Mum picks them up and brings them with her when she comes home from work. They're just little, they're in the Primary School, so they go to our grandparents' house after school. They live over the road from the school.”

“And you're home alone until they get here?”

“Yep. Best time of the day. It's the only time I get totally to myself.”

“You like that? I get far too much time alone. There's only Dad and I at home and he's a busy man.”

“Yeah? Busy doing what?”

“Working mostly. Working, gardening or fishing – that's his life.”

“Just you and him? Where's your mum?”

“Gone. She left when I was a baby.”

“Oh. That's too bad. But that's not what you want to talk about, is it?”

“It's not. I wanted to talk about us.”

“About us?”

“Yeah, you and me. We never got to talk at school, it's all far too busy there, but something happened between us today. I'm sure of it and I think, I hope, that you're feeling it too.”

“Right. I am.” Logan sat up straighter. “I felt something too. I've never really noticed you before, but I sure did today. I couldn't keep my eyes off you.”

“You couldn't,” Lorne grinned. “I saw that, all day long, because I was looking at you too. I've always been aware of you, you're a popular and up-front sort of kid. I've always wished that I could be your friend too, but you've never even seen me around.”

“True, but I'm seeing you now.” Logan went across and sat down on the couch, next to him. “And I do want to be your friend – very much so.”

“Good. Really good. Thanks,” Lorne replied quietly. He was still smiling but he looked a bit teary-eyed as well.

“I can't believe that we've spent all those years in the same classes and I didn't notice you. I'm not the only one either, lots of people were looking at you today. Lorne, what's happened to you? What's changed?”

“Lots of things have changed. I've been growing up a bit, puberty has happened, at last! Better late than never. I've been growing physically, eating like a hungry horse, and I've been getting lots of exercise, trying to get fit.

I've basically spent the summer outdoors, which has got me tanned and sun-bleached my hair. I've been swimming, climbing mountains and running down them and, well, working at it.”

“Your work has paid off,” Logan replied. “You look full of life, fit and healthy and, well, good. You're looking really good.”

“You think?” Lorne blushed, shyly. “I still don't look as good as you, I never will. But the biggest changes have been on the inside.”

“Inside?”

“Yes. We were talking, my dad and I, on New Year's Eve. We decided that we were going nowhere fast and it's time things changed for both of us. He's going to stop mucking around and get himself a proper job and I'm going to . . . to join the real world, where the real people are.”

“Like me?”

“Exactly like you. You were the first person I thought of.”

“That's very cool. I'm glad that you did. I'd love to be your friend, Lorne, best friends even.”

“Really? That's so great. Thanks. Umm, one thing you should know though – I'm gay.”

“You're what? Gay? How do you know that?”

“I've always known that. It's just who I am, I like boys not girls. Does that matter?”

“Oh yeah! That matters, that matters a lot!” Logan nodded and he moved closer to him.

“It does? I'm sorry, Logan. I can't help it, I just am and I like you. I'd better go. Sorry.”

He went to stand up but Logan stopped him by putting his hands on his shoulders and holding him down.

“You'd better not. Don't go, stay here with me.” He kissed him.

Lorne didn't respond. He sat rigid, like he'd been turned to stone and Logan's racing heart sank. Too far, too fast? He pulled back and looked into his blue eyes.

“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn't have done that.”

Lorne shook his head. “Don't be,” he said. “Don't be sorry. I've always . . . I never thought . . . I never dreamed that – you just took me by surprise.”

“So it's all right then?”

“Oh yes, very all right!”

Lorne kissed him and Logan responded big-time! He was instantly hard, hot and horny. He so wanted this boy. They toppled sideways to lie along the couch, kissing, cuddling and whimpering.

Lorne lay on his back and Logan stretched out on top of him. Their arms were around each other and their legs entwined. Everything was great: they were both loving it, revelling in the closeness and loving each other. Then Logan blew it.

He was horny and he got carried away. He started humping against the gorgeous boy, grinding his hard dick against him through their clothes. Slowly at first, and then faster and harder as he lost himself in the sensations and he thought that Lorne was too. He wasn't.

“Logan, please – don't. Don't do this. Dammit, Logan. Stop it! Stop this now!!” Angrily, he fought him off and bucked him right off the couch.

Logan slid off and landed on the floor. He sat up and looked. Lorne was lying on his back with his arms flung above his head, all red in the face and breathing deeply.

“What's wrong? It's just what comes naturally. Am I going too fast? You liked it, didn't you? Sure you did.” He put a hand on his leg, slid it up and gently groped and stroked his groin.

Amazingly, Lorne wasn't even hard. Logan sure was, harder and hornier than he'd ever been.

“No, Logan, I did not like it. I didn't like it one bit. You think I just came here for sex? I'm not a slut, don't treat me like one.” He sat up, swinging his legs around and pushed the hand away.

“Oh, come on. It's just a bit of fun and it's what you came here for, isn't it?”

“I told you, I didn't come here for that. Fun? I don't think so.” He picked up his bag and walked to the door.

“”What're you doing?” Logan protested. “You're not leaving are you?”

“I think I'd better.” Lorne looked back, he was all-but crying. “If I stay here, we're going to have a massive fight and I don't want that. So I'd better go. Goodbye, Logan.”

He walked out, quietly closing the door behind him.

Logan sat for a few seconds, trying to get his head around what had gone wrong. The kid was gay, wasn't he? He jumped up to follow him, and ran out of the front door just in time to see Lorne striding along the street and disappearing around the corner.

“Lorne! Wait!” He took a few steps, and then stopped. He wasn't running after him and making a fool of himself in front of the whole town. 'To hell with that. To hell with him!'

He spun around and went back inside, angrily slamming the door behind him.

“You're nothing but a bloody tease, Beynon. You get me all worked up like that, and then walk out on me – Fuck you! I don't need this and I don't need you. There's plenty of others around who are not uptight prudes. Keep your precious virginity – Retard!”

It was just as well there was no-one else around, if there had been he probably would've lashed out at them and, yes, had a massive fight. He was so bloody wild. He'd never been angrier!

“Fuck 'im anyway. He might be getting taller, but he's still just a child. Grow up, Baby!”

It took a while, but he slowly calmed down. In his room, on the bed, with his burning face buried in the pillows, the anger faded and all that was left was the embarrassment – he'd made a right fool of himself. He'd got carried away and Lorne had done nothing wrong. He just didn't want to do it and Logan had no right to try and force him to.

“Oh, Gawd! I was so wrong. I'm sorry, Lorne, so, so sorry.”

He didn't know how he was going to fix this, but he knew that he had to. He couldn't go and find him because he had no idea where he lived. “Tomorrow!”

Tomorrow, at school, as soon as he saw him, he was going to apologise and beg, if he had to, for Lorne to forgive him and give him another chance. He had to. They were only just starting to get to know each other and he so wanted to know him.

He could see himself loving that boy. Maybe he already did? He went to the bathroom to wash his face and freshen-up. He didn't want to have to explain to his mum why he'd been crying. Not likely!

For once in his life, Logan went early to school next morning. That was a definite first! He didn't go inside, just hung around out at the front waiting for Lorne to arrive.

Kids started arriving, in dribs and drabs, all full of the usual lack of enthusiasm – and this was only the second day of the year! They had a long, long way to go until next summer. A few of them greeted him when they saw him standing there, but no-one stopped and he didn't go in with them.

Eventually, most everyone had arrived and there was still no sign of Lorne. Logan couldn't wait any longer or he was going to be late. He went into the school, he'd catch him later.

Walking in to the first class, he looked around the room hopefully, just in case Lorne had come in by some other way. He hadn't. Late, maybe? Could be.

The morning dragged on, class by class, and he had to accept that Lorne wasn't late; he was not coming. Absent on the second day? Not a good look. He tried to think about other things, but that wasn't easy to do.

Why wasn't Lorne at school? Was he sick or something? He looked fine yesterday – really fine and healthy too. Maybe he'd had an accident? Maybe his dad's old ute had broken down? Who knew? He wished that he did.

He surely wouldn't have just not come to school because he was pissed at Logan, would he? He was so sorry for what he'd done – 'Bloody Idiot!'

They were getting on so well until he blew it. He really had to apologise and get back on the right track, but couldn't do it if the Kid wasn't there. He carried on, going through the motions of his life. What other choice was there?

Next day, Wednesday, it was the same all over again. He was there early, he waited and Lorne didn't show up. Dammit. Now he was really starting to worry. Was he ever coming back at all?

At lunchtime, he went to the office to speak to Mrs. Bourke, the School Secretary. She'd know why Lorne was absent, his father should've rang to say why he wasn't there. She didn't and he hadn't.

“It's a mystery to me too, Logan. If you hear anything, please let me know.”

“Yeah, of course I will. I'll go and see him at home, where does he live?”

“Ah, no, sorry, I can't tell you that.”

“But why not? You must know his home address, it'll be in the school records.”

“Records are confidential, Logan. We can't give out students' personal details; it'd cost me my job if I did.”

“Oh. But what if it was an emergency?”

“Is it? Teenage dramas don't qualify as emergencies, you know.”

“How about his telephone number? Can you tell me that?”

She looked at her computer screen and shook her head. “I couldn't tell you, but I can tell you this, the school doesn't know. There is no phone number listed, apparently they haven't got one.”

“No phone at all? Not even a cell-phone? How can anyone live without a phone?”

“I wouldn't like to, but some do, it seems. Sorry I can't help. Do let us know if you hear anything..”

“Yeah. Thanks anyway, Mrs. Bourke.”

He left the office, feeling even more frustrated. She wouldn't tell him anything, but she wanted him to tell her. How was that fair?

Where was Lorne and what was he doing? No phone at all? That was weird. Ange might've been right, maybe the Beynons were aliens?

“Phaw! Shut up. Of course they're not. There are no aliens. But there's some strange people around, seems like.”

Thursday, he still wasn't there and Logan was getting worried. Something must've gone wrong. He went back to the office but Mrs. Bourke said that there still hadn't been any word from Lorne or his father. She was starting to get worried, maybe it was contagious. But, no, she still couldn't tell him Lorne's home address – she quite liked her job and wanted to keep it.

“You're a hard woman, Mrs. Bourke.”

“Only as hard as I have to be. I don't make the rules, sorry.”

“Yeah, I'm sorry too.” He turned to go, defeated again, but she stopped him.

“Logan, I find it strange that you don't know where your friend lives.”

“I guess it is strange, but he's a new friend. I haven't known him long and don't know much about him.”

“Obviously. You know, if I was you, I'd ask around the other kids. Someone must know where to find him.”

“Someone does. You know and you won't tell me.”

“I can't. Ask around, Logan, you never know. Who are his closest friends?”

“I don't think he's got any. I'll try anyway. Thanks for that.”

He asked around, mostly the girls because they they took more notice of people, and they were gossips, but no-one knew anything definite. Nobody knew where Lorne lived! 'Strange.'

He got some conflicting stories, Lorne had been seen going places after school, always on his own. However he'd been seen in Palmerston Street, Albion Street, Leopold Street, etc, etc. It seemed that he wandered around all over the place – like a spy would do?

'Shut up! He's not a spy, he's a kid.'

So, another day gone and he still hadn't fixed things and had no clue where he'd be. Dammit. He really hoped that it wasn't his fault that Lorne was AWOL. It wouldn't be, would it? He wasn't that upset. Or was he? Once again, he so wished that he hadn't done what he'd done – it was like sex abuse, wasn't it? Tacky!

Surprisingly, it was Ange, his ex, who came up with an answer for him. He was walking home, in a sour mood, as was becoming his normal state, when she caught up to him.

“Logan, wait up!”

“Oh? Hey, Ange. Something I can do for you?”

“No. Something I can do for you. I hear you've been asking where Lorne Beynon lives.”

“Right. I have been. He hasn't been back to school since the first day. We had . . a bit of an argument and I'm getting worried about him. Do you know where he lives?”

“I do. I found out from my aunty – Mr. Beynon did some work for her and she told me where they live.”

“So where?”

“You really want to know, don't you? Have a lover's tiff already? No, on second thoughts, I don't want to know. They live on Richardson Road, at no.23, but it's actually the first house you come to.”

“23 Richardson Road. Great, thanks! But – wait – where is Richardson Road? I've never heard of it.”

“It's a country road, it turns off the highway, on the way to Whataroa, about 20k's north of here. It's next to the Waitangi- whatever River.”

“The Waitangitanoa River, yeah, I know where that is. That's great, Ange. Thanks. Now I've just got to figure out how to get there. That's a long way out of town. Way too far to walk.”

“That's for sure. Why don't you just ring him?”

“They haven't got a phone, so I can't.”

“Of course they've got a phone. Everyone has at least one.”

“Not everyone. Mrs. Bourke said that they haven't.”

“Really? Wow. I told you they were weird. Maybe they are aliens?”

“Or, maybe they just don't have a phone. Thanks again, Ange. I think I've got a plan.”

“Okay. Good luck, Lover Boy, and I'll see you tomorrow.”

“You will, and shut up!”

Lorne & Logan, 1

2011-11-15T13:26:00.001-08:00

(We're gonna leave Tyler & co, for a while. I know, i know! But i want to get this story posted before i lose it. This whole tale came to me in a dream one night - that's never happened before.

Also, another first - Tracy was casting her eagle-eye over it and editing, (Thanks, Tracy!) but she's busy now with RL dramas, unfortunately. So if you see any rough bits that need fixing, please say so.

cheers)

'A new kid in school.' Logan sat, half awake, idly watching the people walking by while waiting for his girl. 'Interesting.'

He really should've been still in bed, asleep. It's not easy on the first day back after 7 weeks of late nights and sleeping until he felt like waking up. That was all over now, worse luck, and he was back in school for yet another year. Summer holidays pass so quickly!

He didn't mind school really, it was pretty cool and it was where his mates were. He just wished that they could start the day at a more civilised time – midday would be early enough!

The new kid came back and went into the locker-room that he'd just come out of not even 2 minutes ago. 'Forgetful, much?' Logan smiled, he knew what that was like.

'Wait a minute!' He whipped around and looked at the doorway that the kid had disappeared into. 'You're not new. You're . . umm. . What's-your-name? That Beynon kid. What the hell's your name? Starts with 'L' – Larry? Loren? Lorne! That's it, Lorne Beynon.'

'Whoah. What's happened to him? He looks so different, like a whole new kid.'

He almost got up and followed him, but, 'No. That'd be sad - stalking or something.'

Stalking Lorne Beynon? Not likely! But . . . what had happened with him? He wasn't new, he'd been around for, like, forever, always quiet, always in the background. He was just an ordinary kid, one of hundreds. There was nothing special about him, except maybe his always-glum face. Did he know how to smile? A grin might crack his face in half.

Well, he knew how to smile now. He came back outside, into the sunshine, glowing with his golden-tan skin and longish white-blond hair, saw Logan looking at him, flashed a dazzling smile, said, “Hey, Logan”, and kept walking.

Logan sat, gobsmacked, watching him go. 'Wow, totally wow! Hot.'

Hot? A boy? Lorne Beynon was hot? Beynon?? And yet – he was. That was the only word for it. He was hot. How could someone change so much in just 7 weeks? Was that possible? Apparently, yes.

What exactly had changed? He didn't know. He'd never taken that much notice of him before. He'd never taken any notice of him before, but he was now. Things had changed.

The hair had got longer, and blonder – very blonder. He'd always had nondescript, dirty-blond hair, the sort of hair that wasn't noticed. There was one big change, maybe he'd bleached it? Also, his skin – tanned, smooth and, well, perfect. Had he been photoshopped?

There must've been a change there. He couldn't remember what it was like before, but he was sure he would've noticed a face with skin like that. Wouldn't he? Had he got taller, longer legs, broader shoulders and a slimmer waist? Who knew?

The school clothes were no help, they weren't outgrown or anything. They wouldn't be because they were new by the look of it, like lots of people's were, like Logan's were – new uniform clothes for the start of a new year. Everyone was growing, somewhat.

“Hey! I'm here. Who are you checking out?” Logan's long-time girlfriend, (well since last year, that's a long time when you're 15), sat down and poked him in the ribs.

“Oh. Hey, Ange. How're you? Excited about a new year?”

“Yeah, right! Way excited. Don't change the subject, who were you sitting perving on, Logan Greene?”

“Not perving. I'm just sitting here people-watching, seeing what's new and who's hot.”

“Like everyone's changed since last year? It's only been a few weeks since we were last stuck here.”

“Seven weeks actually, and that's long enough for people to grow and change a bit. Quite a bit for some; look at that kid there – the one talking to Allie Wills and Bonnie Milne.”

“The blond boy? What about him?”

“Yeah, the blond boy. Keep looking, Ange.”

“Looking at what? He's a looker. Holy Shit! That's what's-is-name – Beynon, Lorne Beynon! Isn't it? He's changed – nice!”

“Told you,” Logan grinned. “Some have changed.”

“They have. Wow, Lorne Beynon's cute! I'll bet he's still bloody weird though.”

“Weird? Why's he weird?”

“Because he is, or was anyway. Think about it, how long has he been around in the same classes as us?”

“Since forever, seems like. Since way back in Primary School anyway.”

“Yeah, probably since day one. Ten years! Ever seen him get into trouble? Ever seen him win anything – prizes, races, anything at all?”

“Well, no, but that doesn't make him weird. He's just average.”

“Yeah? Ever seen him at any birthday parties? Any dances? No, you haven't because he doesn't go anywhere. He never has. Logan, he's been in school with us for 10 years. Where does he live?”

“Live? I don't know, I wouldn't have a clue.”

“Yeah. Neither would I and in a small town like this, that's not normal. Everybody knows where everybody lives, except him.”

“Right. That is odd.”

“It's weird. Who does he live with? Has he got a family at all? For all we know he could be an alien robot sent here to spy on us.”

“Spy on us? Rubbish, Ange! He is not. Anyway, he has got a family, a father anyway. His dad works around town doing odd jobs and people's lawns and gardens and stuff. He drives that old Holden ute and he drops Lorne off at school sometimes.

“Yeah? Where do they come from? The Mother-ship after recharging?

“That's crap, Ange, and you know it. Life's not like that.”

“Well that's my theory, have you got a better one?

“So why don't we ask him?”

“Oh sure! That'd work – 'Hey Beynon, are you an alien spy?' - like he'd tell us? No, you're right, of course. You're always right.”

Ange sat straighter and stiffened. If she had hackles, they'd be rising. “Just what do you mean by that, Logan Greene?”

“You know. You know exactly what I mean. Every time we talk it's always the same.”

“What is?”

“You've always got to have the last word on everything and the only person's opinion that matters is yours.”

“Oh, that's what you think?”

“That's what I know. It's what you think too; you know that and so do I.”

“You've never talked like this before.”

“No, and I think it's time we did.”

“Yeah? Okay then, I'll tell you something else I'm thinking – I think it's time we cooled things down a bit.”

“Cooled things down?”

“Yep. I like you, Logan, you're a nice guy even if you can be a bit of a doormat, but I don't know if I'm ready for a full-time relationship.”

“Are you dumping me?”

“Not dumping, no. Well, not exactly. I still want to be friends, it's just nasty when couples stop talking to each other, but I think it's time we saw other people. Okay?”

Okay? Funny, all he felt was relief, like a weight had lifted and he was free!

“Yeah, okay.” He looked up at her, she was looking not at him but straight ahead at Lorne Beynon. “Are you thinking about dating Lorne Beynon?”

“No, Logan, I'm not but I think you might be.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. The whole time I've been sitting here you haven't taken your eyes off him for more than a few seconds.”

“Do you think I'm gay?”

“I dunno, maybe, maybe not. Maybe anyone is with the right person. That's what being a teenager is about, checking things out, getting to know different people and finding where we belong. We won't have that if we're stuck together like we're married.

We've been together for months and, face it, things are not as exciting anymore.”

“Right – again, they're not. So we're finished but we'll be friends?”

“Yeah. You want that?”

“I think so. Okay, Friend, that's it – over. But remember, Ange, we are friends. If you ever need help or anything, I'll be there and I've got your back.”

“Thanks. You really are a good guy you know. You'll make someone a damm-fine partner one day.”

“But not you.”

“I think not, but – who knows? We might even finish-up back together, that can happen.”

“I guess.”

“Smile, Logan. You're not dumped, you're free, okay?”

“Okay.” He forced a grin. He was really feeling relieved but couldn't say that, she'd explode!

“Okay.” Ange kissed him on the cheek, got up and left. “See you around. 'Bye, Sweetie.”

“Sweetie?” Logan shuddered. That was one thing he wouldn't miss, for sure. 'So – freedom!' He looked for Beynon, but he'd gone. It was time he was moving too, it wouldn't pay to be late on the first day.

He almost was late, but not quite. He just beat the teacher into the room. Everyone else was there and seated. He glanced around for somewhere to sit and, ('Whoah!'), Lorne Beynon was in the middle of the room with empty seats on both sides of him.

Why was no-one sitting near him? Who knew? He didn't, but that wasn't going to stop him, there was nowhere else he'd rather be. He hurried over and took a seat next to the blond kid.

“Hey, Lorne,” he smiled, “mind if I sit here?”

“I don't mind. Be my guest,” Lorne smiled back. And what a smile!

Logan's legs turned to rubber and he sat down before he fell down. 'Wow! Wow and double-wow, the kid's friggin' gorgeous! Why haven't I seen that before?'

Mr. Noonan stood up at the front and shushed everybody. He then started on his standard welcoming speech and promised them terrible things in the year ahead – like hard work and a lot of it. This would be the most important year that they'd known in their school-lives, maybe the most important that they ever would.

The NCA national exams were to be sat at the end of the year and their results would set the course for their careers and for the rest of their lives. It was that important!

To him it was, maybe. Logan listened with half an ear and studied the boy next to him. How was he going to get to know him, or even start talking to him? As far as he could remember, they'd never spoken before – ever. That was strange and he was so regretting it now.

Really strange. The kid had been around forever and he'd never noticed him before, and never wanted to, but he did now. What had changed? He was attractive, like some plain ordinary plant had burst forth with a beautiful flower.

'What? Back-up, Logan Greene!What's going on here? He's a boy, like I am, and I'm attracted to him? I'm not queer, never have been until now anyway, so why am I feeling like this? Damm, he's beautiful. Is anyone else seeing it too?'

He scanned around the room but no-one seemed to be taking the slightest interest in the boy next to him. What was wrong with them? It was just him then.

That still didn't tell him why he was attracted. Maybe the pubescent boy was pumping out those sex-attractant things – pheromones? Whatever. Did that make sense? Nothing else was. He felt like he was falling in love, with a boy! With Lorne Beynon! He never saw that coming. Had he cast a magic spell on him?

'Phaw! Get real, Logan. No such thing as magic spells – things are weird enough here without getting into fairy stories. Is that what I am – a fairy?

Maybe he had been all along and just didn't know it. This was driving him nuts. He tried to focus on the teacher and what he was saying, but that was easier said than done.

He was stuck there, sitting way too close to him and was totally aware of every move he made, even his breathing. He'd be less distracted if he sat somewhere else, like in another room, or another school! Whatever. At the moment he didn't care about school, he liked sitting there close to this intriguing boy.

All morning long they remained together, seated side-by-side. They couldn't talk but communicated in glances and grins. Both of them were grinning.

Communicated what? Logan didn't know – but something. Lorne seemed to be interested in him too. Logan looked forward to recess when, he thought, they'd be able to talk a bit.

But it didn't happen. As soon as everyone trooped outdoors Logan was rushed away to sign-up for the cricket trials – first time he'd ever regretted being popular and good at sports! Lorne was left standing alone, but he soon got talking with a group of 2 boys and 3 girls who all wanted to know what the hell had happened to him.

The same thing happened again at lunchtime. Logan tried to get him to come with him but Lorne said no. He wasn't interested and he had no time for team sports because he couldn't get to out of school games and practices. Why not? Logan wondered, but he had no time to ask him before they were separated – again! Dammit.

He thought that he'd try to catch-up with him after school finished for the day, but that didn't happen either. He missed him because he was held up by a dork – Helen Bennett. She was a teacher actually, a relatively young one and very keen to be involved in her students' lives. But she was still a dork; especially today.

By the time he got away from her and out of the main doors the rapidly-dispersing crowd was well thinned out and he couldn't see any sign of Lorne anywhere. That was 3 times that he'd missed out on talking to him. Wasn't the third time supposed to be lucky? That didn't work.

Walking home, alone, Logan was in a blue funk. He wanted to talk to this new improved version of Lorne Beynon. He knew nothing about him, but he wanted to, he wanted to know everything. He was sure that Lorne was interested in him too. He'd said nothing, he hadn't had a chance to, but from his eyes, his smiles and his whole body-language, Logan was sure that he wanted to be friends too.

Friends and more? He wasn't sure, but he thought so. If he was ever going to have a relationship with a boy, then this was that boy. A Bro-mance?

'Ah well,' he shrugged. Something good had happened today. It hadn't gone as far as he wanted but there'd be plenty more days – the entire school-year had just begun. He went home.

Okarito, 9

2011-11-13T13:56:00.000-08:00

Well along the length of the huge lagoon and no more than halfway across it, Tyler determinedly caught up to his cousin, got really close alongside and whispered, “Cassie! Cassie, look – a Kotuku!
It's Beautiful. But what's it doing away out here on the water? It must be standing on a log or something.”

“It'll be standing on the bottom. That's why they've got long legs, they're wading birds and most of the lagoon is only a few inches deep. You could probably walk from one side to the other.”

“Oh, I see. I didn't know that. I haven't seen a live Kotuku for years, they're very rare.”

“You think? Look, there's another one over there and there was one back behind us.”

“I missed that one. Three of them at once? Wow!”

“There's no wow about it, Boy. White Herons are not rare around here, they're quite common. At some times of the year there's lots of them. They nest and breed on the Waitangitoana River, in New Zealand's only breeding colony. That's just a few k's north of here and they feed here on the Okarito Lagoon.”

“Yeah? They take tourists to see them, don't they? I saw a tour-company place in a small town north of here.”

“You did – White Heron Sanctuary Tours. They're based in Whataroa and the only way you can get in there is with them. It's a great trip, but the dumb tourists don't realise that they can come here and see them for free. Well, some do, but not many. Pity really.The birds don't take a lot of notice of you if you're out on the water but if you haven't got a boat you can't get up close.”

Tyler said, “Hmmm.”

“Yes! There it is, over there, the Otatoki Creek. You go in first, Tyler and I'll follow you.”

“Me first? Why? It's not booby-trapped is it?”

“Of course not!” Cassie laughed. “I wouldn't do that to you and, anyway, Aunt Kathleen would kill me if I did. No,I just want to follow and watch your reaction.”

“My reaction to what?”

“Don't be so suspicious, Cousin. It's just a cool place, that's all.'

“Okay. I'll trust you – once.”

Tyler led the way, paddling slowly from the lagoon into what Cassie called the Otatoki Creek. He soon stopped and sat quietly looking around. “See all the Beauty that Surrounds You,” he quoted.

She said that it was one, but it was like no creek that he'd ever seen. This was no small, bubbling and swirling waterway; this was wide, green and serene. The blue sky could still be seen, in places, above the trees, but everything else was a million shades of green.

Well, there were some browns, but even most of the tree trunks and branches were festooned with a host of green epiphytes and parasites. There were a few brightly coloured flowers, dotted around here and there, and the tangled mass of foliage went all the way down to the water which was green as well and even calmer and flatter than out in the lagoon. There didn't seem to be any current flowing at all.

“Well, what d'you think?” Cassie came up alongside hiim.

“I think that Heaven must look like this. Oh, Cassie! This is absolutely gorgeous, I love it.”

“So do we all,” she smiled. “What makes it even better is that it's all perfectly safe. There's no snakes or other creepy-crawlies looking to kill you, unlike some countries. Come on then, we'll paddle upstream a bit and there's a clearing with a small beach where we can stop and have some lunch.”

“Already?”

“Well, yeah!”

They started moving again, gliding along. He was startled when the silence around them was suddenly broken by a pair of Kereru, or Native New Zealand Wood Pigeons, noisily flapping above them. Cassie laughed at the look on his face. “Noisy buggers, aren't they? You often hear them long before you see them.”

“They're noisy. Another rare bird, but I suppose you'll tell me that they're common around here too?”

“You've got it – heaps of them. There's over 70 bird species around here, including our very own Rowi.”

“What's a Rowi?”

“It's a kiwi, a little brown one. Rowi are the rarest species of kiwi, there's only about 300 of them in the world and they all live here, around Okarito.”

“Really? This must be a bird-lovers' paradise.”

“Yep. What they can see of it, that is.”

“Hmm,” said Tyler.

They stopped and ate the lunch, sitting on the so-called beach – actually a gently-sloping bank of stones, all covered in thick green moss which made great seat-cushions. Some bird-song could be heard, but not much.

“It's so quiet here!” Tyler commented.

“Now it is,” Cassie replied. “But not in the summer. Then, there's bloody cicadas everywhere, singing their little hearts out. Some years they're so thick you can't hear yourself think.

Mind you, they spend about 17 years as nymphs burrowing underground, and then come out to fly and breed for a few weeks in the summer sunshine. It's no wonder they sing, I would too. Still bloody noisy though.”

“You know a lot about nature, Cassie. People miss a lot living in a city.”

“They do. That's why I don't, and I never will. I like it here.”

“Y'know, I think I do too.”

“Shot!” she grinned.

“Shot?”

“Yeah. Shot in the heart – like Cupid's arrows. Speaking of which, what time are you expecting Bevan?”

“Cassie!” He protested with a grin and a blush. “He said that he'll come over after school, around 4 o'clock.”

“Plenty of time then. We'll go a bit further up the creek, and then start making our way back.”

The creek soon got too narrow and choked with fallen trees etc for them to proceed any further. They actually had to reverse a bit before the long kayaks could turn around to go back. It wasn't obvious, but there was some current flowing in the water because the downstream trip took no effort at all.

Tyler actually used the paddles to brake a couple of times, he was in no hurry to leave there, and then they just drifted along, occasionally dipping a paddle to steer.

Back out on the wide waters of the lagoon they travelled homeward, staying close to the north 'shore', where the bush met the water. There were a lot of birds, including a couple of Kotuku, away out past them on the water. They weren't upset at all by the humans passing by, they just ignored them and got on with their lives.

Tyler was quiet. He just flashed lots of grins to show how much he was liking it.

All too soon they came down the lagoon to the point opposite Bob and Kathleen's home, and they turned to cross over there. A light wind was disturbing the surface now, but it wasn't enough to make the going any harder. Someone was over there, standing by the water's edge, waiting for them.

“Bevan's there already!” Tyler exclaimed. “Come on, Cassie, I'll race you over there.” He started paddling faster.

Cassie sped up to match him. “I thought you said, 'no racing'?”

“I changed my mind – Come on, Old Lady!”

“I'll show you who's an old lady, you cheeky little shit!”

They cut across the water like surfaced torpedos, racing for home. Cassie won by a narrow margin when they slid up onto the grassy verge. She got out and danced around, celebrating her win and cheering for herself.

She had to because no-one else was cheering, the two boys were busy grinning at each other.

Okarito, 8

2011-11-10T11:59:00.001-08:00

The boat shed was like a long garage with pairs of big doors at the back and at the front where a wooden ramp led down into the water. There were boats and water toys of all descriptions in there – prams, dinghies, large and small, deflated inflatables, kid-sized open topped canoes and, best of all, four fiber-glass, two-man kayaks.

“There you go,” Bob grinned at the look on Tyler's face. “I told you we had a lot. We had a lot of kids, they grew up by the water and these were their toys. Take your pick, use any that you like, but make sure that you wear a life-jacket when you're out there. We don't want you drowning yourself.”

“I don't want that either. This is choice. Thanks.”

He selected a kayak, (they were all the same). Bob fitted a life-vest on him, handed him the oars and told him to sit in the seat. He did and Bob pushed it forward and onto the ramp.

“Hold the oars up high and hold your breath.”

One shove and the kayak slid down the ramp and out onto the water. He paddled around for a while, rapidly gaining in competence and confidence, until he had to come in when his grandmother called them for dinner.

They left the kayak, oars and vest up on the small beach in front of the house. In the kitchen, Kathleen told them to sit down and announced that their meal would be pizzas.

“Pizza?” Tyler questioned.

“Yes, pizza. You do like them don't you? I thought every boy did.”

“I like pizza, but you are such a great cook it seems odd for you to be buying take-aways.”

“They're not take-aways,” his grandfather said. “These are home-made. Your grandmother makes her own pizzas and they're much better than any you'll buy in town.”

“I do cheat a bit these days,” Kathleen smiled, pleased with the compliments. “I buy the bases and add my own fillings and sauces. I just thought that it was time we ate some boy-food.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tyler smiled. “But everything you make tastes good. I'll be getting fat if I stay here!”

“Let's hope you get fat then.”

She took three large pizzas out of the oven and slid them onto the platters on the table, then quickly cut them into segments with the pizza-cutting wheel thingamie.

“Right then,” she sat down. “There's seafood, vegetarian and the meat one. Eat up, but I'll be surprised if we finish the lot.”

“So will I,” Tyler agreed. “They're huge.”

“Ah, but they're good.” Bob helped himself to a slice of each one.

There was silence for a while while they ate, but lots of grins showed Kathleen that her efforts were appreciated. They all looked up when a car stopped outside, and then relaxed again when it drove away.

“False alarm,” Kathleen said.

“Yes. They must've thought better of it,”Bob said.

“They must have thought better of what?” A tall, slender girl with short dark hair slapped the frame of the open hallway door and walked into the kitchen.

“Cassie!” Bob exclaimed. “I meant that whoever was in the car must've thought twice about interrupting us while we were eating. Apparently I was wrong.”

“You were wrong, Uncle.” She pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Tyler. “But I'm not interrupting. You keep on eating and I'll join you if I may?”

“You may, seeing as you're already here,” Kathleen said. “Tyler, this is your cousin, Cassie. She's Bevan's big sister and she is a very pushy person.”

“Hey! No I'm not. We're all family here, aren't we? Bevan came home raving about the wonderful new cousin he met today, so I had to come and see for myself. Hey, Tyler, I'm your something-or-other cousin. I'm the brains of the family.”

“Also the Mouth of the South,” Kathleen said. “Okay, Cassie, get a plate from the cupboard and help yourself. There's plenty here and you could do with some meat on those bones.”

“Cool, thanks, Aunty. But I don't want to put weight on and start looking matronly.”

“I'd shut up now if I were you,” Bob smiled.

Tyler watched her while he ate. He swallowed and said, “Bevan's sister? You don't look at all like him.”

“Of course I don't. I'm much more butch than he is. He is different, isn't he? I'd say he was adopted but I vividly remember Mum's big fat belly before he arrived. Maybe they switched babies in the hospital.”

“They did not,” Kathleen said. “Bevan is very much your mother's son. You just take more after your father.”

“Didn't get Dad's brains though, did I? I think I got my brains from my Great-Uncle Bob, eh?”

“Don't think so. I've still got my brain, but you do seem to have a similar one – good at figures. Cassie's a very bright girl, Tyler, and it's going to waste. She flew through university and now she's at home doing nothing except annoying everybody.”

“Oh, that's cruel. I was rotten homesick at varsity, but now I'm back and I'm bored. I don't want to go away again but there's no decent jobs around here. Mind you, if a certain rich uncle was to buy me a car, I could find a job in Franz Josef. That's only a few minutes away from here.”

“Franz is a good half hour away on our narrow back-country roads. Find yourself another rich uncle, Girlie. I'm not buying you a car so you can kill yourself.”

“But I wouldn't! Tyler, beloved cousin, how rich are you?” She grinned across the table.

He grinned back. “Not that much. Not rich at all actually.”

“Oh, shame. Nevermind, something will turn up.”

“I thought you said you were bored,” Kathleen snorted.

“Yeah, that too. Good pizza, Auntie. We should go into business together – you make the pizzas and I'll look after the money.”

“That won't be happening either,” Kathleen shook her head. “Bevan was impressed with Tyler, was he?”

“Very much. The word we keep hearing is 'wonderful'. 'Wonderful, wonderful boy.'”

“Hey! I'm not that great. I'm pretty ordinary really.”

“Ordinary is one thing that you're not,” Bob said. “Who dropped you off here, Cassie? We heard a car stop, and then leave.”

“Oh, Uncle, what big ears you have! It was Jeffery actually. He stopped to say hello, so I hitched a ride with him. He says hello by the way, Tyler. He'll come and see you when he's not busy – if that ever happens.”

“The cop?” said Tyler. “He's a nice guy.”

“He is that. I might even marry him if I can't get a better offer.”

“Cassie!” Kathleen growled. Best offer is no basis for a marriage, and you know that.”

“Yeah, I know. Sheesh, Auntie, I was just joking. Anyway, he hasn't asked me yet. He is a good guy though. I like him. So, Toby Tyler, tell us all about yourself and show me one of these amazing smiles that Bevan was so impressed with.”

“Cassie!” He showed her a shy version of the smile. “It's just Tyer. Toby Tyler was a character in a book – 'Toby Tyler or Ten Weeks With A Circus.'”

“That's the one. You are a bright boy!”

“Not really. When you've got a name like mine, old people say 'Toby Tyler' all the time.”

“Oi! Who you calling old?”

“Oh, nobody. My other granddad often called me that when I was little and he read the book to me several times. I think he liked it more than me though.”

“The book about the orphan boy who ran away and joined the circus. A bit like you really – welcome to the circus, all we need is a tent. I'll sell the tickets, Uncle Bob can be the ringmaster and Aunt Kathleen will be the lion-tamer. They wouldn't dare not obey her.”

“Behave yourself, Cassie,” Kathleen smiled.

Even with the extra mouth, they didn't finish all of the pizza. Several slices went into the fridge, wrapped in Gladwrap. Kathleen closed the door and said, “They'll do for lunch tomorrow. I'll pack you a picnic lunch, Tyler.”

“Oh? And where we are picnicing tomorrow?” Cassie queried.

“Dunno. Somewhere out there. Grandfather has lent me a kayak and I'm going to go and explore the lagoon a bit.”

“Sounds like fun. Can I come?”

“Well,” he hesitated. “Yeah, okay. Why not?”

“It's a date then,” Cassie grinned.

“Told you she was pushy,” Bob nodded.

“It's okay. I don't mind. It'll be good to have some company, I guess.”

“You guess? Don't sound so sure. I haven't been out there in yonks. There's some really cool places, especially in the river mouths. I'll show you around and be your guide for the day.”

“That'll be good.”

“It will. I'll send you the bill.”

“The bill? What for, being my guide?”

“Right.”

“Fine, and I'll send you my bill,” he grinned.

“Your bill? What're you billing me for?”

“For joining my touring party, of course.”

“Oh. We'll just say that they cancel each other out then. We've got a sharp one here, Uncle. Looks like there's another businessman in the family.”

“Could be,” Bob smiled.

They cleaned-up the kitchen, and then all went out to sit on the front verandah to enjoy the evening. Bob and Kathleen lit-up their pipes. Cassie lit a cigarette and offered one to Tyler. He refused, he didn't smoke, and he sat carefully upwind of them all. They sat and chatted.

“What time do we want to get away tomorrow, Tyler?”

“Anytime, but it'd better be early. I want to get back by the time school's out for the day.”

“But you don't go to school.”

“No, but Bevan does.”

“Oho! Coming back again, is he? Do I hear wedding bells?”

“What? No, you do not!”

“Okay, okay. Just kidding. I'm always kidding – gets me into trouble all the time.”

“You think you'd learn then,” Kathleen frowned.

“Learn? Me? Not likely. Is that the kayak you'll be using?”

“That's it.”

“Right then. I'll paddle home in it, when I go, and come back early tomorrow. Okay?”

“Sure. We'd better get another life-jacket for you. Is that okay, Grandfather?”

“Of course it's okay. I don't want to see Cassie out there without one. We'll go and get one now. Do you want another kayak too?”

“Yeah, good thanks. It'd be bloody hard to race if we're both sitting in the same one.”

“I'm not racing!” Tyler protested.

“We'll see about that, Sunshine. We'll see.” Cassie grinned.

Next morning, early, Tyler was up, dressed and ready to go, sitting on the seat looking out over the lagoon. The front door opened and his grandmother came out with a bag in one hand and 2 mugs of coffee in the other.

“There you are, Tyler. Have you had your morning coffee?”

“Good morning. You're up early.”

“I usually am. Do you want this drink or shall I throw it out?”

“Don't do that. I've had one but can handle another. Thanks.”

“You're welcome. There's a lunch for you in the bag. I've packed plenty because Cassie will want some too. You wouldn't think it to look at her but that girl eats like a horse.”

“Great, thanks. I've never done this before, so we'll probably stop for a rest somewherer if we find a nice quiet spot.”

“Sunshine, once you get over to the north end of the lagoon you'll be hard-pressed to find any places that are not nice and quiet. I haven't been out there for years but I loved it when I was younger.You're not, of course, but it's easy to imagine that you're the first person ever to explore in the waterways.

It's all in its natural and original state and there's no signs of man anywhere. With the thick rain-forest everywhere, every river you go up has a picture-postcard scene around every bend. Its best seen on a sunny day and you've got a great day for it.”

“It is a great day, isn't it? Blue sky, calm water, clear air and not a breath of wind. Even the town looks good.”

“And didn't we tell you that it would?”

“You did, but – wow! Such a difference.”

“Now you see why we like it here. All this and the people of course. Someone's coming. Your eyes are better than mine; is that Cassie or not?”

“Yes! That's her, coming at last.” Tyler put his mug down and stood up.

“Been waiting for a while, have you?”

“For ages. I was awake before dawn.”

“That early? You need to get out of that tent and into the house where you can sleep in the mornings.”

“One day maybe, but not yet. I'll put the life-jacket on.”

“There's no hurry, finish your coffee. It will be a few minutes before she gets here. It's hard to judge distances over the water you know.”

“I guess you'd know.” He sat down again and drank. “Shame that Bevan's not coming too.”

“Oh?” she smiled. “You said he'll be here after school. Don't go encouraging him to skip school. He takes far too many days off as it is.”

“How does he get away with that?”

“The fact that he is far and away the brightest student they've got has probably got a lot to do with it.Also, nobody makes Bevan do what he doesn't want to. He's a stubborn as a mule.”

“Don't you like Bevan, Grandmother? I do, I liked him a lot.”

“I got that impression,” she smiled. “I knew you would. I do like him, I like him very much, but I'm glad that I'm not responsible for him.”

“Maybe he's just responsible for himself, like I am.”

“Maybe you're right. I hope he doesn't stuff his life up. I hope you don't too. I've seen far too many kids who've never reached their full potential.”

“I think that the best thing in life is to be happy and content with what you've got.”

“Could be. It's very true that money doesn't buy happiness, it helps of course, but you need more than that.”

For today, I'm happy and glad to be here. Thanks, Grandmother.”

“Thank you, Lad. We're very happy to have you here.”

When Cassie arrived Tyler was kitted-up, in the kayak, in the water and waiting to go.”

“What, don't I even get a rest?” she protested.

“Rest if you want to,” he replied. I'll start and you can catch up. Which way do we go?”

“We go this way,” she started moving. “Bye, Auntie. We'll see you later.”

“You'd better! Have fun, Kids, and don't drown him, Cassie.”

“We'll try not to,” she waved and they went.

Kathleen stood smiling and nodding as she watched them paddling obliquely along the lagoon, a ruffled V shaped wake trailing behind and spreading over the flat water.

'Good choice, Cassie,' she thought. 'You're taking him to Otatoki Creek, up at the top-end. That's probably my favourite place. Enjoy it, Kids, and take care.'

She went inside to clean-up, (again!)

Okarito, 7

2011-11-07T12:32:00.001-08:00

They finished their drinks, and then Tyler stood up. “Can I have a look at your surfboard?”

Bevan stood beside him. “It's a paddleboard, but, yeah, you can have a look.”

They went over to where the board was lying on the grass just above the water's edge.

“It must be so fun, getting around the lagoon on that,” Tyler said. “I'm really jealous of you now.”

“Of me? Sheesh! You don't need to be jealous, but you're not riding on my board. Not today anyway.”

“Oh? I wasn't going to ask, but why couldn't I? Don't you like people borrowing it?”

“Don't know. No-one's ever asked. But you're not; Aunt Kathleen said that you haven't seen a paddleboard before, so you wouldn't know to manage it. You might, maybe, be able to get going with the paddle, but I haven't got it here. I used the kite today and you'd never manage that – it takes heaps of practice. I'll come back, with the paddle, late tomorrow. If you're still here, you can have a go then.”

“I could? Thanks, but I won't be here tomorrow.”

“It's up to you,” Bevan shrugged. “No-one's making you go; change your plans and stay a while. Bob and Kathleen would be delighted. If you want to go out on the water before I get back, Bob's got lots of kayaks, a whole shed full of them. Ask him and he'll lend you one. Can you swim?”

“A bit, yes.”

“Wear a lifejacket then. He's got lots of them too.”

“Well . . okay. I might stay for one day. Does it have to be late tomorrow when you come back? Couldn't you make it earlier?”

“Nope. I've got school tomorrow.”

“You're still in school?”

“I am, worse luck – in year 11.”

“Why aren't you there today then?”

“Because I'm having a day off.”

“But why are you?”

“What is this, twenty questions? I just am, okay. I felt like it,' Bevan grinned widely.

“You just take a day off whenever you feel like it?”

“Sure. Why not? It's not like I'm being paid to be there or anything.”

“You still should be there, it's the law. Kids have to go to school and it's good for them.”

“Whatever,” Bevan shrugged. “Why aren't you in school? You're a kid.”

“Oh but I'm not. I'm an adult, so I don't have to go.”

“An adult? You? No way!”

“Yes I am. Legally I am anyway.”

“You're legally an adult? How did you manage that?”

“It's a long story. Briefly, I went to court and the judge said that I'm an adult now.”

“Judges can do that?”

“They can, in the right circumstances. I wasn't planning on leaving school, that was just a bonus.”

“What were you planning on?”

“I told you, it's a long story. Basically, I wanted to be declared independent and in control of my own life. I found out later that I could leave school, so I did.”

“Lucky! Maybe I should do that too.”

“Has your relationship with your parents or caregivers irretrievably broken down, and have you got a lot of money for a lawyer?”

“Well, no, and no.”

“So you can't then. Enjoy your schooldays and make the most of them. They're meant to be the best days of your life.”

“Listen to who's talking! Why didn't you stay there if you believe that?

“It wasn't true for me. I hated the place. Do you hate your school?”

“Hate? No, not really. I just get bored.”

“Bored so you take a day off?”

“Sometimes, yeah. I'd better be going home before the wind drops. It was good to meet you – really good. I'll be back tomorrow, will you be here?”

“Yes, I think I will be here. It was good to meet you too. What time will you come back?”

“Around 4.30 to 5 o'clock. Tell Aunt Kathleen that I'll be here for dinner.”

“Sure thing. I'll tell her, I'll look forward to it.”

“Yeah, me too. Now I'll get the kite into the air, and then you can watch an expert.”

“An expert?”

“That's me! Of course, now I've said that I'll probably fall and make a fool of myself – again.”

He didn't. He launched the kite, and then the board, and sailed away with ease. Like the Cheshire Cat, the last impression he left Tyler with was his happy smile. He had a great grin.

Tyler so envied him, happily sailing out there. He'd stay for one more day. It'd be worth it to try out the paddleboard, and even more to see Bevan again; he liked him. Why? He didn't know, he just did.

Bevan was thinking much the same thing while he sailed over the water. He liked this new cousin very much. He was nice to look at, but more than that, he was interesting, stimulating and, well, nice. Growing up in a small town where he knew most everyone, and brighter than most of them, Bevan was basically bored. So an interesting stranger was a welcome sight. Plus – he liked him.

Tyler stood and watched until Bevan was out of sight, and then he went back to the tent and tidied up again. He went over to the front of the house and sat on the seat, waiting for his grandparents to come back. They shouldn't be much longer; they said they were only going in to work for a couple of hours.

He wasn't in any great hurry anyway, the seat was comfortable and he'd never get tired of studying the view out there – something about it felt like home. He slept.

He woke with a start when a car pulled in at the baclk of the house and the doors banged shut.

'Damm', he thought. 'Who's this? Not more nosy relatives, I hope.'

The back door opened, and then closed and footsteps came up the bare wooden-floored hall to the front of the house. He, briefly, considered going and hiding around in the next bay again, but decided he wouldn't. He had as much right to be there as anyone did and, if it was not the grandparents, he'd just tell them to get lost. Or, maybe he would. He'd met one other family member so far and was glad that he did.The door opened and Kathleen came out, closely followed by Bob. “Hello Tyler. We're back at last. It took longer than we expected because your granddad was held up. I hope you weren't too bored here alone.”

“I wasn't bored at all, thanks, and I wasn't alone either. Bevan came to see me.”

“Ah, good. I asked him to and I hoped he would but you can never be sure with Bevan. He basically does what he wants, when he wants and no-one tells him what to do.”

“Sounds a bit like me,” Tyler grinned.

“Yes,” Bob agreed. “We'd already worked that out. So what did you think of Bevan?”

“He's different but I liked him, really liked him. He's coming back again tomorrow after school finishes.”

“That is good news,” Kathleen beamed. “I knew you two would hit it off. So will you be staying with us for another day?”

“If it's all right with you, yes I'd like to.”

Bob said, “It's more than all right, Tyler. It's all good. Stay as long as you like and the longer the better.”

“I will then. Thanks, Grandfather. Is there anywhere in town where I can hire a canoe for the day? I'd love to explore the lagoon tomorrow.”

“You want to hire a canoe? No, there's nowhere where you can do that and there damm-well should be! There's a whole water-wonderland out there and hardly anyone ever sees it.

Some of the locals have got small boats but no-one hires them to visitors. I've often thought that there's a great business opportunity being missed there. We get a lot of visitors, they come for the surfing, but no-one seems interested in taking their money off them.”

Kathleen said, “The sort of visitors we get don't have much money anyway. They're mostly hard-up students and surfers and they're all sleeping in their cars and doing everything on the cheap. There's a camping ground by the beach but most of them don't even use that.”

“They're not the only visitors we get,” Bob disagreed. “There's quite a few family groups too. They rent out the holiday homes. Mostly in the summer though.”

“Right,” Kathleen nodded. “Nobody comes in the winter or spring and they generally don't have a lot of money to spend either.”

“Everyone on holiday spends some money. Kayaking on the lagoon and waterways wouldn't have to cost mega bucks. Apart from the setting-up costs, it would be a low-maintainance, low-cost business to run. If hiring kayaks was available, more people would be attracted here. Franz Josef township is only 15 kilometers away. Do you have any idea how many tourists they get there?”

“It must be a few.”

“A few! According to the tourism people, up to 2700 per day, and that's not counting the through traffic, just the ones who stop and go up to the glacier.”

“That many? That's a lot of people.”

“It is. There's a huge market there just waiting to be tapped into. Anyway, Lad, you don't have to hire a canoe. We've got a shed full of boats of all shapes and sizes. They're just sitting there gathering dust and you're very welcome to use any that you want to.”

“Thanks, Grandfather. I'd like to do that. I could pay you for the use of one.”

“You bloody could not! They're toys for the family to use and you are family. We wouldn't dream off taking money off you.”

“My other family would; they wouldn't think twice about it.”

“Well we're not them. Pay us with a smile. If you enjoy it, that's all the payment we'd need.”

“Thanks,” Tyler nodded. “I'm really glad to have met you both.”

“Not half as glad as we are to have met you,” Kathleen said. “By the way, I was talking to Jeffrey in town today. He wanted to know how you were.”

“The Cop? That's nice.”

“He's a nice guy. He said they've got some old manacles in the station, ball and chain type things. We could borrow them to keep you here if we wanted to. I wouldn't do that, but can't say I wouldn't be tempted if that's what it took.”

“That won't be necessary,” Tyler grinned. “I like it here. I'll stay a couple of nights anyway.”

“Excellent! I'd better get some dinner started. You go with your grandfather and he'll show you the boats. You can choose which one you want. Even better, try them all - one per day would keep you here for a couple of weeks at least..”

“Just one is enough, thank you.”

“Oh well,” Bob sighed. “It was worth a try. Come on then, come and see what we've got.”

Okarito, 6

2011-11-03T20:35:00.000-07:00

Next morning, the Roddens were up early, as usual. While Kathleen got started in the kitchen, Bob went out to see if Tyler would join them for breakfast. The tent was open and empty and there was no sign of him anywhere. So, where?

He walked down to the water's edge and along to the corner where Tyler had disappeared around the day before. He was there all right, he was on his way back and he greeted his grandfather with a big smile.

“Hey, Granddad. It's a better day today. Do you think we'll get sunshine?”

“As well as the sunshine of your smile?” Bob replied looking up at the sky. “I'm not sure. It looks a bit patchy, but it might clear as the day warms up.”

“Or it might not.”

“Yes, it might not. It doesn't look too bad though. Are you hungry? Breakfast is nearly ready.”

“A cooked breakfast? Sounds good, but all we seem to do is eat.”

“And what's wrong with that?”

“Not a lot. Let's go eat.”

Sitting around the table, the grandparents told him that they had to go into town, to go to work, for an hour or two, but they'd be back as soon as they could. He didn't want to go in with them, he'd just hang around and rest and maybe get some more sleep – which would be nice!

“Grandfather, you said that you work for the Council?”

“I do, I look after their finances.”

“Where do you work, Grandmother?”

“I've got a part-time job in the kitchen and dining-room of the Golden Lead Hotel. It's not much, but I like it.”

“The Golden Lead Hotel? That sounds like something out of the Wild West.”

“That's exactly what it is. The Golden Lead is one of the oldest businesses around, it's been there since the gold-rush days a century ago.”

“Right. But most of them have by the look of the main street.”

“Well, maybe. Businesses come and go, but there are some old buildings there.”

“Old? They're ancient!”

“They're not that old. Are you sure you don't want to come and look around in the daylight?”

“Totally.”

“Okay, we'll leave you here then. Make yourself at home and we'll be back in a couple of hours.”

“I will. Thanks.”

They left him sitting on their front deck and they drove into town, in separate cars. Bob went past with a wave, but Kathleen stopped and spoke to a boy who was walking out of town.

“Hello, Bevan. How are you today?”

“Hey, Auntie. I'm good, how are you?”

“Oh, I'm good – really good. Never been better. How come you're not in school?”

“I'm having a day off.”

“I can see that, but why?”

“Why not?” he grinned.

“All right, you're not telling me. I hope you know what you're doing. We've got a visitor at our place; a grandson who we didn't know we had.”

“I know, I heard that yesterday.”

“News travels fast. His name is Tyler, he's about the same age as you and he'd be your distant cousin. Why don't you go on out and meet him?”

“I think I've got enough cousins. Anyhow, I thought everyone had to stay away because he doesn't want to know us? The snobby prick!”

“He's not a snob, he's just shy. He's had some bad experiences with family and is not keen on meeting more.”

“Suits me. I've got better things to do anyway.”

“Can't they wait? Bevan, he's a nice kid and he's all alone. He could do with a friend. As far as I know, he hasn't got one friend in the whole world.”

“Can't be that nice if no-one likes him.”

“I don't think it was his fault. Things just happened.”

“Yeah well. Nothing to do with me anyway. He's got his life and I've got mine and I have got friends.”

“You're a lucky boy then. Couldn't you go and make someone else lucky too?”

“He doesn't want to know us.”

“That was yesterday, today he's maybe changing his mind. He wants to meet you anyway.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. He saw you last night and was intrigued that he had a cousin who can walk on water.”

“Sheesh! It's just a paddleboard, nothing special.”

“You might think so but for someone who's never seen one before it looked special, especially in the moonlight.”

“It's better in the dark,” Bevan grinned.

“I'll take your word for it,” Kathleen nodded. “And I won't ask what you were doing out there either. Please, Bevan. Do it as a favour for me. You won't be sorry.”

“Well . . yeah, okay. Just for you, Aunty, I'll go and see him sometime.”

“Thank you, but could you make it now? He's there all on his own and he's liable to leave at any time. You're the only one he's said that he is interested in meeting. If he does, he might stay a while longer. I'd really like that.”

“You like this kid, don't you, Aunty?”

“I do. He is our grandson, but apart from that, I just like him. Who knows? You might find that you like him too.”

“Doubt it! Is he gay?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, he said that he is.”

“Of course. Forget about match-making, I'm not available and I'm not interested.”

“I'm not matchmaking, I'm just hoping that you might be friends.”

“Friends? Maybe. I'll go and see what we think of each other. I'm probably too weird for him anyway.”

“You're not weird.”

“You think? Most people wouldn't agree with you.”

“Most people would be wrong then. Thanks, Bevan.”

“Anything for my favourite aunty.”

Walking on home, Bevan watched the wind out on the estuary and smiled widely. 'Very nice! That'll save me a lot of work.'

He arrived home, where he and his family lived, bordering the estuary and below the main road out of town, a couple of houses before the long bridge to the far side. In his room, he changed his sneakers for Crocs – dead ugly but practical shoes when they're going to get wet.

He got his paddleboard from the boatshed at the back, and then laid-out his frameless 'parachute' kite on the back lawn. He lifted the strings to let the breeze fill the kite and, with an even pull, launched it into the air.

The kite took flight and, when it was pulling steadily at the full length of the controlling strings, he nudged the board into the water and carefully stepped on to it. He found his balance and, with the kite pulling gently but constantly, started moving out on the water.

It soon reached a speed that he decided was quite enough, it was almost like water-ski-ing, and he deflected the kite to reduce speed a bit.

Across the estuary, he turned in and sailed up onto the beach below his uncle and auntie's house. A skinny youth stood on the deck watching as he expertly landed the kite on their front lawn. When he'd done that, Bevan turned and grinned at the stranger.

“Hi. You must be Tyler.”

“Yeah, I must be. Who would you be?”

“I'm Bevan, the good-looking cousin. Best-looking one you've got anyway.”

“And so modest!”

“Yeah, that too.”

“The grandparents are not here right now, they've gone to town for a while.”

“I know that. Aunt Kathleen met me and asked me to come and meet you.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She's probably hoping that you'll be so dazzled by my fascinating personality that you'll decide to stay around for a bit.” Bevan walked up on to the deck and sat on the front railing. “Nice here, isn't it?”

“It is,” Tyler looked out at the water. “It's very nice here. I like it a lot. You're not a bit shy, are you?”

“You think? I'll tell you a secret, Cousin, I'm shaking in my shoes here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I'm nervous. I'm shy and scared that you'll tell me to fuck off. I just cover it up and no-one knows.”

“But now I know.”

“You do, if you believe me, but you probably don't.”

“Oh yeah!” Tyler laughed. “You're probably right. I usually read people really well, I don't know what to make of you.”

“And that's the way we like it,” Bevan grinned and nodded. Then he got serious. “Most people don't know me. They don't bother with me and I don't bother with them.”

“We're two of a kind then.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“But you still came over to see me?”

“The wind was blowing this way. No, seriously, Aunt Kathleen asked me to and she's not easy to say no to. Also, I was curious and wanted to have a look at you, just this once.”

“Why just once?”

“Because that's enough. Look, Cousin, you're gay, right?”

“I am. Did my grandmother tell you that?”

“Yeah, she did. Thing is, I'm gay too. No doubts on that score.”

“Okay, we're both gay and we're distantly related. Does that mean we can't be friends?”

“It's not just that. I've got a boyfriend, a possessive and jealous boyfriend. He wouldn't like me being around you and he's quite capable of ripping your head off if he thinks you're getting too close.”

“He could try.”

“He would. It's better if I don't go giving him reason to worry – better for him, better for me and for you too. So we meet, just this once.”

“Fine.” Tyler lost the smile and his back stiffened. “You can go back and tell Grandmother that we've met and I'll start packing up now. I'll stop in town for some supplies, and then I'll be on my way. Goodbye, Bevan.”

“You what? Do you mean you're leaving right now, this minute?”

“Almost this minute. It will take a while to load everything on to my bike.”

“But why?”

“Why not,” Tyler shrugged. “This is not my home. I've done what I was going to do here, the weather's improving so I might as well make the most of it.”

“But Aunty said you were going to stay for a few days.”

“She was wrong then. I've already stayed way longer than I was going to; it's time to go.”

“You've changed your mind. Was that because of me?”

“Whatever. Goodbye.”

“”Hang on. Hang on. Damm, people call me anti-social. I've got nothing on you. How will you ever get to know anyone with an attitude like that?”

“I won't. Why would you care? You don't want to know me anyway.”

“Maybe I do.”

“You said that you don't, apart from this once.”

“Maybe I was wrong too. I'm sorry if I've offended you. That was not right.”

“Sorry? Okay, whatever. Have a nice day.”

“You're still going?”

“Yes.”

“Damm. You're way too sensitive. Bugger off then if you're going. It's your loss.”

“It is? Conceited aren't you?”

“I'm not talking about me. It's your loss if you don't spend more time getting to know your grandparents, they're good people. So are some of the other rellies too, your aunts and uncles. But no, you just pack-up and bugger-off. Your loss and they're all probably better off for not knowing you.”

“What? Why are they better off?”

“You're not that nice a person, are you? You're all prickly and sensitive and anti-social too.”

“You think you know all that after talking to me for about 5 minutes?”

“I do. I told you, we're the same. I look at you and I see me.”

“I'm not you.”

“I know that, but you're like me.”

“And you don't like it?”

“I didn't say that. Don't put words in my mouth.”

“You did say that. You said I'm not a nice person.”

“Maybe. I'm not nice either. I've got the same prickly, sensitive and anti-social traits.”

“And you've got a boyfriend despite that?”

“Yeah,” Bevan grinned. “Lucky, eh?”

“Yes, lucky,” Tyler sighed. “You don't know how lucky. It's never happened for me and I doubt if it ever will.”

“It never will either.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You're never going to get anyone while you keep pushing people away. Moving on all of the time is not helping either, is it?”

“I guess. You're probably right, but . . “

“But nothing. Look, you've got the perfect place here. Make the most of it.”

“What d'you mean? I've got no place here. I've got nothing here.”

“Oh but you have. I don't mean physically, as in owning something. I mean that you've got a place in this town. You're a Rodden, John Rodden's son and Bob and Kathleen's grandson. That means something around here.”

“Like what? The grandparents are not mega-rich or anything. They're just working-class people.”

“I wouldn't be too sure about that. Yes, they both work, but that's more for an interest, something to do. They own their home and property and all that and they've got money in the bank. They don't have to work – not for money anyway.”

“Okay. But that's nothing to do with me. What's theirs is theirs and if they were writing a will I'd be at the end of a very long list.”

“Maybe. But, go into town, go to the bank and apply for an account. Tell them that you're Bob Rodden's grandson and they'll be all over you. Apply for a job in a local business, any job, and they'll put you on top of the list.”

“Because I'm a Rodden? But what if I'm no good at it?”

“Then you won't last, but first they'll give you a chance because of your name. Where else are you going to get opportunities like that?”

“Nowhere, I guess.”

“Damm right, nowhere like here.”

“Are you sure that my grandparents' name would open doors?”

“Of course I am. Try it and see. They've got a good name because they're good people. And it's not just them, there's all the rest of the family too – your family. They're locals, an old-established family, solid and reliable and 'salt of the earth' types.”

“And you are one of them.”

“Yeah, well. No family's perfect – black sheep can pop up anywhere.”

“You don't look black to me.”

“That's because you don't know me. Wait until you do and you'll see.”

“Then I'll see what?”

“That I'm a nutbar. I'm weird, strange, different.”

“Is that a bad thing? Everyone is different and I like what I see, so far.”

“So far. Hang around a while before you make up your mind. But don't be offended if I don't talk next time you see me.”

“Why wouldn't you?”

“Sometimes I don't talk. If I can't be bothered, I talk to no-one for days on end.”

“Yeah?” Tyler grinned, “Are you sure you're totally sane?”

“I'm sure. Are you sure that you are?”

“Yeah. Well, I think so.”

“There you go then. Are you going to offer me a drink or not?”

“You want a drink? Okay. I've got orange, cranberry and black-currant juice or herbal tea. Which would you like?”

“Coffee.”

“We can do that too. Instant coffee with no milk, okay?”

“Sounds fine. Thanks.”

Tyler led the way over to his tent outside the barn. That surprised Bevan; he'd assumed that they would go to the kitchen for a drink. That probably would've been faster and easier, but that was not where they went.

Bevan was going to ask why, but closed his mouth. He was curious about the tent and its contents. This was Tyler's full-time home, apparently. The only home he had.

Tyler dropped down and crawled in through the unsecured door flaps. Bevan followed, as far as the entrance, and he looked inside. It was small space and everything there was neat and tidy and uncluttered. The kid was obviously very well organised, unlike himself.

“Do you want me to go and get some hot water?” Bevan asked.

“No thanks,” Tyler replied. “There's no need. I've got water here and it'll only take a minute to heat it up.”

“How do you do that?”

“On the gas, naturally. It's quicker than an electric kettle.”

Bevan scurried out of the way as Tyler backed out of the tent carrying a lidded-pot on a small gas cooker. He set them down on level ground, lit the gas and crawled back into the tent.

“You've got a miniature kitchen in there!” Bevan looked back inside. “But I'll bet you haven't got an oven.”

“I should take that bet, because you'd lose.”Tyler came out again carrying two mugs. “I have so got an oven.”

“Yeah? Where do you plug it in?”

“I don't. It's a Dutch Oven, so it sits in a fire. Well, technically, it's a Bedourie Oven – same principle but made of stainless steel so it only weighs half as much and it's all-but unbreakable.”

“A Bedourie Oven?”

“Yes. Made in Australia actually – one of the better ideas to come out of Aus.”

“Hey!” Bevan protested. “They make some good stuff in Australia.”

“Like what?”

“Like me. I'm Australian, I was born there.”

“Yeah? What're you doing here then? They kick you out?”

“Haha, very funny. No, they did not. I was just a baby, my Mum had post-natal depression, quite bad apparently, and she was rotten homesick so they came back.”

“Back to Okarito?”

“Yeah, to their hometown, where their family is and here we are.”

“So we are.”

Tyler poured the almost-boiling water to make their drinks and handed one to Bevan. “Sugar it yourself, you know how you like it.”

“I do. Thanks, Cousin.”

“You're welcome, Cousin.” He extinguished the gas flame, then took the spoon from Bevan and sweetened his own drink.

They sat, facing each other, under the awning on the front of the tent and chatted quietly about this and that. Both of them were smiling quietly, enjoying the moment and thinking how well this encounter was going.

“So,” Tyler said, when the conversation stalled. “Tell me about your boyfriend. Where did you meet and how long have you been a couple?”

“Boyfriend? What boyfriend? I haven't got one and never have had.”

“But you said that you did.”

“No I didn't.”

“Yes you did! You said you had a boyfriend, that he was jealous and wouldn't like you being around me and that he'd rip my head off, or something.”

“Did not.”

“You did so.”

“Okay, yeah, I did. I lied.”

“Lied? What would you do that for?”

“Because, that's what I do. I'm a liar and I'm very good at it too.”

“You're good at lying?”

“Yes. No. That's a lie too. I'm a pathological liar and everything I say is a lie, including that statement.”

“So you're lying when you say that you're lying? Bevan, my head is spinning now!”

“So you want to take a break?”

“I think I need to.”

“Yeah, so do I,” he said with a grin.

Okarito, 5

2011-11-02T15:26:00.000-07:00

“Okay then. I'm not fretting about it or anything, usually I don't even think about them, but I fell way out with my family. It was over money of course. My other grandparents had some money and several properties around Auckland. There was the family home, in Brown's Bay on the Shore, and a couple of shops, some rental houses and flats. Grandfather knew that he was dying so he drew up a plan and Grandmother followed through on it after he'd gone.

The insurance paid off all the mortgages so all the properties were debt free and she sold them all. Added to their savings and other investments, it came to quite a lot of money and it was all left to me, but put in a trust until I 'attained a legal majority'. Grandmother was a lawyer when she was younger and the lawyer who I later engaged was delighted by that phrase.

This is getting very long-winded. Briefly, Grandmother died too and there was a huge battle over the money. My mother tried to get her hands on it but both of their wills were very specific that she was not to get a cent of it, and she didn't.”

“This was their own daughter?” said Mr. Rodden.

“Yes. They knew her well and they knew that she couldn't handle it. She would've blown the lot and probably killed herself while she was doing it. The plan was for me to look after her, but that's not going to happen.

Anyway, she tried and failed to get the money, and then her brothers and sister tried as well. They failed too. I had a very good lawyer and they didn't have a chance. It was a battle but we won, or rather my lawyer did.

I knew that he'd be expensive, you get what you pay for and he was the best. But I never dreamed just how much it was all going to cost – almost half of the entire inheritance. It was legalised theft, but I was stuck with it. Still, you've got to look on the bright side, I had money, I was emancipated with all the status of a legal adult and I was free.

I bought the bike, trailer and camping gear so that I can live cheap and travel around the country. The rest of the money is invested to give me an income. It's not much, but it's enough. So, here I am, travelling light, unencumbered and free.”

“And alone,” said his grandmother.

“I am, and that's good.”

“Where is your mother now?”

“I don't know and I don't care. She was in Auckland, living with some old drunk, last I heard.”

“But why did your grandparents want the money to go to you and not to their own daughter?”

“They loved her , gave us a home and looked after her when they could, but she hurt them time and time again. My mother is a drunk with multiple addictions. She's been through recovery heaps of times, always getting just well enough to go back and have another go. If she had money, she'd blow it and kill herself.”

“She sounds like a sad case.”

“I guess.” Tyler shrugged.

His grandfather frowned at him. “She is your mother. Don't you have any feelings for her at all?”

“I don't. She killed that a long time ago.”

“I'm sorry. What do you mean by that?”

“What do I mean?” He looked from one grandparent to the other, and then unbuttoned and pushed back the long sleeve on his left arm. Silently, he showed it to them.

The Roddens looked and looked closer at the row of angry red and round scars, like dots in a line on his inner forearm, from the wrist to the elbow. “Oh, Tyler!” his grandmother sighed. “What happened?”

“Cigarette burns.” He pulled the sleeve down to cover his arm again. “They shocked the court too. Did you ever stop stop a child crying by hurting him so much that he was afraid to cry? No? Well some people did.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes.” he nodded.

“Okay, I think I can see why you don't want to know family, but I promise you that nothing like that ever happened to any of ours. Your mother was a sick woman.”

“Is a sick woman,” Tyler agreed. “But it's over now. Can we talk about something else?

“Yes,” said his grandmother. “Come inside and we'll eat.”

They ate again, sitting around the table in the kitchen. It was great food and very 'more-ish', but, even after just one day, Tyler felt heavier. Just as well he wasn't staying, he'd finish up as big as a house if he lived there.

Finished eating, they cleaned-up, and then went out to sit on the deck at the front of the house. It was a warm and pleasant evening with not a breath of wind. The wide water before them was flat and calm, probably. It was hard to see because it was very dark by then, but the twinkling lights of the town over at the far side were reflected on the surface.

Something was moving on the water, the lights danced on the ripples.

Two matches flared next to him, interfering with his night vision. Both of his grandparents were lighting pipes!

“Grandmother, you smoke a pipe?”

“I do, sometimes. Why does everyone comment on my smoking and not on your grandfather doing exactly the same thing?”

“Men smoke pipes, sometimes, but it's rare for a woman to do it. I don't think I've ever seen it before.”

“Well, now you have. I don't smoke a lot, just the occasional pipeful, but it's nice sitting here on a quiet evening. Your grandfather has smoked a pipe ever since I've known him. The smell of it used to annoy me no end, so I thought I'd try it myself and see how he liked it. It didn't worry him at all, but I like it too.”

“Good for you,” Tyler smiled. “It's got to be better for you than ciggies.”

“I take it that you don't smoke at all?” his grandfather asked.

“No way! I need my lungs.”

“Good for you too. Don't ever start, it's damm near impossible to stop once you do.”

“I won't start. It doesn't interest me at all and I can't afford it anyway.”

“Yes. It's an expensive hobby, or addiction or whatever, but it's my only vice, we're getting too old for anything else.”

“You're not old, Granddad. Oh, wow! Look at that!”

The patchy clouds broke apart and the full moon shone out in all its silvery glory. The whole scene, the estuary, the town and the bush-clad hills behind it, were lit-up almost as bright as day but without the colours. Everything there was in shades of silver, white and shadowed black.

Awestruck, Tyler rose to his feet and stood staring out across the water. “Who's that?” he whispered.

Silouhetted against the silvery water, a slight figure was coming towards them.

“Who is what?” Bob replied. He turned to where Tyler was staring and sighed. “They just never listen, do they? Sorry, Lad. Don't worry, I'll chase him away.”

“But who is it?”

“Just another one of your nosy cousins. Stay there and I'll get rid of him.”

“No, don't. Please let him come if he wants to.”

“Are you sure? They were all told to stay away and leave you alone for today.”

“I'm sure. The day is more-or-less over over now. Thanks for that. I'd like to see this cousin who can walk on the water. Is it shallow enough to walk right across the lagoon?”

“Definitely not!” Bob laughed. “That will be Bevan. If anyone could walk on the water, it would be him, but he's not really, he's got a paddleboard.”

“Bevan is a cousin?”

“A kind of a cousin. He's my brother, Len's grandson, so that would make him what?” he looked to his wife.

She replied, “He'd be Tyler's third cousin, I think.”

“So he's a distant cousin? How old is he?”

“He's fifteen – fifteen going on fifty. Bevan is an old soul, he was born old.”

“How can you be born old?”

“I don't know, but some people are. Bevan is one of them.”

“Interesting. I'd like to meet him.”

“So you shall then,” said Bob. But he didn't.

Bevan didn't stop, he just paddled past them. Bob went down to the water's edge and called out to him, but there was no reply, he just kept going.

“Sorry,” he said, coming back up on the deck. “It seems that he doesn't want to meet you right now. Maybe you'll see him tomorrow.”

Tyler watched the boy getting ever more distant as he paddled away across the lagoon. “Tomorrow will be too late,” he said. “Tomorrow I'll be gone.”

“You don't have to you know,” said his grandmother. “You said that your time is your own, why don't you stay a few days? You know that you'd be very welcome. Stay here with us, in your tent if you prefer, have a look around and get to know something of your father's background. The weather forecast is not good for the next few days, but it must stop raining eventually.”

Tyler looked up at the dark clouds in the silvery sky and nodded. “Sooner or later, yes.” He looked down at the now-distant figure out on the water. “Okay, thank you. I will stay here for one or two days, and then I must go.”

“Must?”

“Will go then.”

“But you'll stay awhile. Will you sleep in the house?”

“I don't think so. My tent has all that I need, thanks.”

“As long as you're sure. There's a good big and comfy bed in the house any time you want it.”

“I know, thanks. While we're on that subject, I'm going to my bed very soon now.”

“Oh? It's dark but it's still early you know.”

“Early for you, maybe. I didn't get much sleep last night and I'm used to going to bed early – early to bed, early to rise.”

“Makes a man healthy, happy and wise,” his grandmother finished the rhyme.

“Well, maybe. It's hard to sleep in the tent after daylight. No, I'm not coming into the house!”

“Stubborn little thing,” his grandfather smiled. “How'd you know what I was thinking?”

“Just did. I've learnt to be stubborn, I've had to be.”

“Fair enough then. Would you like a drink and some supper before you go?”

“Nope. We've only just eaten. It was a great meal too, thanks Grandmother.”

“You're very welcome. It's a pleasure to cook for someone who enjoys his food. Your grandfather is getting harder and harder to satisfy.”

“Hey! I'm not fussy, I just can't eat as much as I used to. That happens when you get older.”

Okarito, 4

2011-10-31T11:04:00.000-07:00

They sat around the kitchen table, looking at old family photographs. It really was amazing how much Tyler looked like John and also like his grandfather in the few old black and whites that they had of him as a boy.

Eventually, Mrs. Rodden ordered them out of her kitchen while she started preparing the evening meal.

“I don't like having people underfoot when I'm working in the kitchen. Go away. Go for a walk or something.”

“Fine,” said her husband. “Come on, Tyler, we'll sit out the front and you can have another look at that view that you liked so much.”

“Great. But are you sure that I can't help you, Grandmother? I'm a good cook.”

“Maybe you are, but you can help me best by going away. Shoo!”

They went through the house, leaving the doors open on the way, and sat together on the long bench seat on the covered porch out at the front. The afternoon sun had broken through the clouds lighting up the town over the placid water. It looked great.

They both knew that it was the distance that made the town look good. Up close, the commercial buildings were worn and weather-beaten, faded and jaded. The town was getting old and the glory days had gone. They were hanging on, but there wasn't a lot of money there.

There were a lot of empty and boarded-up buildings up and down the main street; Tyler had seen that in his look-around the night before. But, from a distance and shining in the sunshine, the town looked good. He was beginning to see what they meant by 'glorious on a sunny day'.

But, the sunshine was fleeting. The clouds closed in again and the grayness returned. “Nice while it lasted,” Bob Rodden sighed. “Funny thing you know, if there's the least bit of rain on an otherwise sunny day, the weather-office people will always say, it rained in South Westland today. But it doesn't work the other way around, a few minutes' sunshine isn't reported as a sunny day. That is just ignored.”

“But not by you.”

“No. We appreciate all that we get. Oh, oh, here's trouble!” He stood up and looked back through the house. An extremely loud car had pulled in at the back, thumping music pouring from its open windows.

“Damm!” Mr. Rodden stressed. “It's Gordon and company. I told them, I told everyone to stay away from here today to give you some space. Some people always think that the rules don't apply to them.”

Tyler recognised them, it was the same car-full of idiots that he'd seen the night before.

“Damm is right. Who are they?”

“Family, some of them. Gordon and Brinn are our nephews. That makes them some sort of cousins of yours.”

“Cousins? I saw them last night; they're idiots and I don't want to know them.”

“At the moment, I don't want to know them either. Wait here and I'll go and get rid of them.”

Bob went through the house to the back. Another car pulled in, before he even got there. He went out of the door, growling, and chased them all away. He told them that they could, maybe, come back tomorrow to meet the boy, but not today. The kid was shy and they needed some time alone with him.

It was only a couple of minutes before they left and he went back to the front, but when he got there Tyler had gone. There was no sign of him anywhere.

He checked the kitchen but he hadn't gone back there, so he went out the front and down to the water's edge. There were fresh footprints in the sandy gravel there and, when he looked up, Tyler was coming back around the corner at the end of the bay.

“There you are,” he sighed in relief. “I thought we'd lost you.”

“No, not yet. I haven't got my bike. I was just making myself scarce and having a look around. I thought I'd see what's around the corner there.”

“And now you know – nothing. Our nearest neighbours are away down the road, which is one reason why we like it here.”

“That's a good reason, but there's not nothing there. There's old trees, grass and a private little beach. I like it.”

“I imagine you would, there's no people around there.”

“You've got it,” Tyler grinned. “Have your vistors gone?”

“They've gone, but they were your visitors not ours, they came to see you.”

“They're not my visitors. I don't know them and that's good.”

“You think so? The family will all be wanting to meet you. You are family too you know, like it or not.”

“I don't like it. I don't like it one little bit.”

“You're not at all interested in meeting more of your family? You have uncles, aunts and cousins of all sorts around here. Who knows? You might even like them – we do. Blood calls to blood you know.”

“Not for me it doesn't. I had a family, I didn't like them and they didn't like me. I'm not staying here anyway. It's time that I was going if I'm going to get to the shops before they close.”

“I, ahh, I think you're already too late. There's only one supermarket in town and they close at 5 o'clock on the dot. It's 12 minutes to now; even if you were on a motorbike you wouldn't get there in time.”

“Nearly 5 already? I didn't realise it was that late.”

“The day's gone fast, hasn't it? If it's groceries you want, you could get them from a Dairy, there's several of them and they don't close until later. You'd pay Dairy prices though, probably up to double what it'd cost you in the Supermarket.”

“I can't afford that. I'm on a tight budget.”

“Stay the night here then. The spare room is empty and you'd be very welcome.”

“No, I don't think so. Thanks but no thanks. I like my own space. Also, the tent was packed away wet, 2 days ago. I need to put it up and air it out before it goes mouldy on me.”

“You wouldn't want that to happen. How about we hang it in the rafters in the barn? You could get it properly dry in there and, in the meantime, have a good night's sleep in a good bed..”

“In the house do you mean? No thanks, there's no need for that. I'll sleep in my tent. Could I put it up under the trees around in the next bay? They'll keep it more-or-less dry, if it doesn't rain too much in the night.”

“But you will stay here for the night?”

“Just tonight, yes.”

“Good then. Put the tent where you like, but why not put it up under the verandah roof outside the barn? It won't get rained on there and, hopefully, will dry out a bit by the morning.”

“I will put it up there then. Thanks.”

“You're very welcome. I do wish that you'd come and sleep in the house, but camping near it is the next best thing, I guess. Tyler, this is our home, it's a family home and you are family. You're more than welcome here.”

“Thanks, Granddad. I'll stay tonight, in my tent, which is more than I was going to. Tomorrow, I'm gone. I've got a long road ahead of me.”

“You have, a very long road on a bike, but at least we've got tonight. You will eat with us, won't you? Your grandmother is probably cooking enough for 6 hungry boys.”

“How would you know that?”

“I don't, but that's what I'm guessing. We've been together a long time, nearly 40 years, and we know each other well.”

“You get along after 40 years?”

“We get along very well. Your grandmother was my best friend when we were teenagers, and she still is – better than ever.”

“That's nice! Everyone should have someone like that.”

“Anyone can, but it takes work. I hope that, one day, you'll be able to say the same thing.”

“Me? Not likely! I'll be growing old alone.”

“You'll most likely change your mind. Most people do.”

“I'm not most people.”

“Yes, we've already seen that. You don't have a girlfriend then?”

“Me?” he laughed. “Definitely not and I never will.”

“You don't know that. A fine-looking boy like you, I'm sure you'll find someone.”

“Not very likely when I'm not looking and even if I did find someone it wouldn't be a girl because I'm queer.”

“You are what?”

“Queer. Gay. Homosexual. Whatever you want to call it. That's who I am. Do you want me to go now?”

“No, I don't! Are you sure that you're gay?”

“I'm sure. I know who I am.”

“Okay, you're gay, but you're still our grandson and that's all that matters. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don't and I won't.”

“Maybe one day.”

“I won't. I'll get my bike and put the tent up now.”

He wheeled the bike and trailer around to the front of the barn and got busy setting up camp. His grandfather sat and watched him for a while, but he obviously didn't need help and he wasn't talking, so he left him to it and went inside.

Tyler had the tent up and everything sorted out and was sitting on the grass in front of it, looking out across the water, when both of his grandparents came out of the house.

“All right there, Tyler?” his grandmother asked. “Is there anything you need? More blankets, perhaps? It's going to be a cold night.”

“I'm fine, thanks. I've got a good quality sleeping bag. A warm bed is my biggest luxury,” he grinned.

“Could we? Would you mind? I, ah,” his grandfather stammered.

Grandmother was much more to the point. “Can we look inside, Tyler? We'd like to see how you live.”

“Yes. Of course I don't mind.” He opened the front flaps of the tent to show them the inside.

They had to bend low to look in, it was only a small 2-man hiker's tent. Everything inside was neat and tidy. There was no mess or clutter, just an almost military orderliness.

“Very nice,” Mrs. Rodden said. “Do you always keep it so tidy?”

“I do. There's a place for everything and everything in its place. It's only small so there's no room for confusion and I need to be able to find everything in the dark.

This is my home, where I live. Everything is good quality stuff, it cost me a fortune but was worth it. Quality is cheaper in the long term and now I can live comfortably and cheaply.”

“How long have you lived like this”

“A few months. My journey is just beginning.”

“Ah, beginnings,” his grandfather sighed. “I envy you, Lad. This is an exciting time in your life.”

“Well I don't envy him, said Mrs Rodden. “I don't envy him at all.”

“You don't? Why not?”

“Because, Bob, he's living alone, completely and totally alone. I've never known anything but large families around me and that's the way I like it. Tyler, the life you're planning sounds like a nightmare to me.”

“It doesn't to me. I guess we're just different, Grandmother. My nightmare would be in a family.”

“Yes, we are different. But why are you so anti-family? You must have had some bad experiences there.”

“I have.”

“Do you want to talk about it? It might help to talk it out.”

Okarito, 3

2011-10-26T12:21:00.001-07:00

The man, Bob Rodden, was wearing a suit, but she was in more casual clothes. They looked to be aged about 50 to 60 and had gray hair, thinning in his case.

“Can I help you?” Tyler looked up.

“Tyler? Tyler Rodden?” the lady said.

“Yes, that's me. Who are you?”

“I think that we are your grandparents, Son,” the man replied.

“You what? You can't be. I've never been here before.”

“Maybe not, but your name is Rodden and your father's name was John. Our son was John Rodden and you are the spitting image of him.”

“That's right!” Amy and another waitress came over. “John was in my class at school. I had a huge crush on him for years, but he was never interested, unfortunately. He had darker hair, but the blue eyes and everything else were just like yours – identical! It's amazing.”

“It is, really amazing,” Mrs Rodden agreed. “You are our John's son. You must be!”

“His son? This is too weird! I never knew my father. I grew up with just my mother and her parents, my grandparents. They died.”

“Everyone gets two sets of grandparents you know,” Mr Rodden nodded and he searched through his wallet. “There's a photo here somewhere, I think. Yes! Here it is. Not very big I'm afraid. Have a look at this.”

He passed a photo to Tyler who looked, and looked again. “That's me!” He exclaimed. “How'd you get a photo of me in your wallet?”

“It's been there for years. That's not you, that is our son, John, the son we lost.”

“Right!” Mrs. Rodden agreed. “That was taken on the day of his Senior School Ball, John was just 16 then.”

“He was?” Tyler studied the pic again. “I'm 16. Well,” he looked at the policeman, “I'm nearly 16. Your son, John Rodden. Wow, this is so weird!”

“Yes, it's strange,” she agreed. “Strange in a good way. After all these years, it's like our boy has come home.”

“Whoah, hang on there!” He put the photo down and sat back looking at it. “Okay, it's true. I've seen old photos of my father, his name was John, and that's him – I think. But, I'm not him, I'm me and I don't belong here. When we've finished here I'll go to the Supermarket and get my supplies, and then I'll be going.”

“Wait on,” Mr. Rodden said. “What's the big hurry, do you have to be somewhere?”

“No, I don't have to be anywhere. That's the whole point of travelling alone. I'm free to go where I want and do what I want and I don't have to answer to anyone in the world.”

“If you don't have to hurry, why don't you stay here for a while? We'd love to get to know you and you could meet the rest of the family too.”

“Rest of the family?”

“Yes, we had a lot of kids, eight of them. They're all grown up and left home now but most of them live around here and they've got kids of their own. Also, your grandmother and I both come from big families and a lot of them live here too. You've got a huge family that you don't know about – Aunts, Uncles and cousins, dozens of cousins!”

“Eww!” The boy shuddered. “No thanks! Family is a dirty word as far as I'm concerned. The less I have to do with any of them, the better.”

“You've had bad experiences with family?”

“I have and I don't want any more.”

“But you wouldn't. Okay, we're not perfect, nobody is, but on the whole, your family here are good people. You'd like them if you got to know them.”

“Not going to happen.”

“No? That's a shame, but no-one's going to force you. Won't you, at least, come and visit with us? We're your grandparents, you are our lost grandson and we'd love to get to know you.”

“Well . . “

“No-one else, just us – for a start anyway. Won't you?”

“No thanks,” Tyler shrugged.

But then he looked at his grandmother. She said nothing, just stood looking at him and tears ran down her cheeks. She shook her head and turned to walk away.

Then he spoke. “All right then. If you really want me to, I'll stay for today. But just with you, no-one else.”

“No-one at all?” his grandfather replied.

“No-one!”

“Okay, agreed. But I must warn you, our home is always an open house and they'll all be curious about you. We'll try to keep them all way, but I can't guarantee it.”

“Okay, you try then. If your house fills up with people, I'll be gone.”

“We'll try not to let that happen. Let's go home, shall we?”

“Your home, not mine. Is it far? My bike and gear are out back of the police station.”

“Bike? What sort of bike? If it's at the police station it'll be safe. No-one's going to steal it from there.”

“That's what I thought and that's why I left it there. It's just a pushbike and trailer, but it's got all my gear on it, everything I own. I'll need my stuff if I'm staying here.”

Mrs. Rodden smiled and said, “Yes, bring your gear. We live over the river, across the bridge and a couple of kilometers away. Go back to the station with Jeffery, get your bike and we'll meet you there and show you the way.”

“Right. We'll do that then, but isn't anyone going to work today?”

“Not now,” Bob Rodden smiled. “Work can wait a while. Today we've met a lost grandson and that's much more important.

The Roddens, in their old car, ambled along the road and they led the boy on a bike out to their home. They lived across the water on the other side of the lagoon from the town.

Their family home was a big old, rambling, single-storied farm house with a verandah around three sides of it. They'd lived there for many years and had raised their large family there. The property had been in the family for over a hundred years, they thought.

It was no longer a farm though, it was just a hobby-farm now with only about 15 acres of mostly scrubby land. A couple of paddocks were leased to horse-mad girls and the rest was, roughly, kept under control by a few sheep and dozens of hens and ducks.

They pulled in and parked under the car-port at the back of the house. Tyler stopped and stood astride his bike, looking around. His grandfather got out of the car and beckoned him forward.

“Bring your bike in here, under the roof and out of the weather. It's going to rain again by the look of it.”

Tyler looked up at the looming dark clouds and nodded in agreement. He pushed the bike in under cover, next to the car. “Does it ever stop raining around here?” He said, more to himself than anything else.

“Sometimes it does,” his grandmother smiled. “We do live in a rain-forest and it gets a lot of watering, but when the sun does shine there's nowhere like it. You'll see and you'll agree. Everyone does.”

“Maybe. I don't plan on sticking around here for long, I'm just passing through. I'm looking forward to getting through the pass and into Otago. I hear it's much drier over there.

“It is. That's why it looks like a desert.”

“When you've been biking for days in constant rain, a desert sounds good.”

“Maybe it does, but you'd soon get tired of that too, especially in a hiker's tent. Here you can relax and it doesn't matter what the weather's doing outside.”

“I guess not, until I leave. How much land do you have here?”

“Just 15 acres, but some of it is leased out.”

“Fifteen acres? You're not a farmer then.”

“I'm not. I'm an accountant, I work for the local council.”

“Oh, a government man.”

“Local government, but I have nothing to do with the politics, I'm employed to look after their finances”

“And he does it very well too,” said Mrs. Rodden. “Come inside and we'll have a cup of tea, or coffee if you prefer.”

“Coffee would be good, thank you. Strong and black, I didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Coffee it is then. Walk this way.”

The boy and the man followed her inside and they sat in the big old kitchen while she fussed around preparing drinks for them all. The room was old, that showed in the wood panelling and the high ceiling. It looked lived in, but it was clean and bright, uncluttered and tidy. It was a nice room.

The solid wood table and chairs looked like they were old too, certainly older than him and maybe even as old as the grandparents. His grandparents! That was a turn-up for the books, he never expected this.

He'd never known the other side of his family and never wanted to. The family that he'd known, his mother and her parents and siblings, were more than enough. If all family were like them, he was better off not knowing them. So, what was he doing here again?

“Welcome, Tyler,” his grandfather sat smiling at him. “Welcome to our home. Your father grew up here, so did I and my father did as well. Roddens have lived here for over a hundred years and now, at last, you've come home too.”

“This is not my home.” Tyler was not smiling. “It might be yours, but it's not mine. A couple of hours ago we'd never heard of each other and tomorrow we'll just be memories to each other.”

“Unless you change your mind.”

“Not likely. What makes you so sure that we're related? I mean, there's the name and everything, but maybe I'm just a super-distant cousin with some of the same genes.”

“Some of the same genes?” said Mrs Rodden. “I don't think so! Come through to the lounge and we'll show you.”

The kitchen was in the back of the house and the living-room was at the front. It was a big welcoming room but Tyler didn't even see it. He walked in, went straight across to the front window and stood there entranced.

“Tyler?” Mrs. Rodden prodded.

He didn't look around, just stood looking out. “Wow. Spooky!”

Mrs. Rodden sat on the carpet searching through the old video tapes in the TV cabinet. Mr. Rodden stood next to the spell-bound boy. “Like the view do you? We like it too, but I wouldn't call it spooky. What makes you say that?”

“It's spooky because I know it. The flat water out there, the old town over at the other side and the snow-capped mountains in the background, I know them all. I dream about this exact same view, lots of times. Have I been here before? I must have, when I was a baby or something.”

“No, you haven't, as far as I know. We'd never heard of you until this morning.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“How do I remember this then? There's a barn, isn't there? A big old red-painted barn with an open verandah across the front of it. It's around at that side of the house, near the water.”

“Yes, there is, sort of. It is red but it's badly in need of painting. You must've seen it out of the side of your eyes on the way in. Deja vu is the mind playing tricks on us. Very recent memories, like just minutes ago, can seem like old memories sometimes.”

“You think so? There's a boat in there too, isn't there?”

“We've got a few boats, dinghies, a row-boat and the kid's canoes, but they're not in the barn, they're in the boat-shed on the water's edge.”

“There's a boat in the barn, an old boat.”

“There is! My grandfather's old boat is stored away in there. It hasn't been in the water for many years but it used to be the family's main transport, back before they had cars.”

“It's not very big, long and skinny with open sides and a white canvas roof. The rest is painted dark-green and it's steam-powered with a boiler in the middle and a tall chimney and there's a paddle-wheel at the back of it.”

“That's right! That is exactly what the Princess is like. This is too weird. Oh, you're having us on, aren't you? You must have come around checking the place out when we weren't here.”

Tyler stiffened and he lost the smile. “You can think what you like. I told you that I've never been here before and I don't tell lies. Thank you for the coffee, it was nice to see your home. I think I'll go now.”

“Go? Please don't, not yet. You've just got here and there's so much that we want to show you. Look, I've found the tape I was looking for. Sit down for a minute and I'll play it for you. Bob, shut the drapes please.”

The TV flickered into life as Mr. Rodden closed the heavy drapes and shut the day out. Tyler sank down to sit on the couch as he watched the screen. The video started with a boy, in the distance, standing on the roof of a shed. He fell forward and bounced up again, and again and again. The camera moved forward and around a corner and the boy could be seen doing back-flips and somersaults on a big trampoline.

Finally, he flopped, bounced a little and lay face-down stretched out on the tramp. The camera moved in closer and focussed on the prone boy. His feet and long, tanned, legs were smooth and bare. His shorts were dark-coloured and his t-shirt was black, as was his medium-length hair.

He sat up and grinned at the camera showing the first clear shot of his face and Tyler sat staring with his mouth hanging open.

The clip finished, the screen went dark and Tyler sighed. “Oh, wow. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that that was me – my face on your TV!”

“Exactly,” Mrs. Rodden nodded. “But it wasn't you, that was our son, John at age 15. Looked a little like you, didn't he?”

“A little? He looked exactly like me, apart from the hair. That was my face entirely!”

“It surely was. That's what everyone is seeing. Now you know what we saw when we walked into that restaurant and looked at you. Do you still say that you might not be closely related?”

“No, Grandmother, I don't. I don't think there's any doubt at all.”

“Well, good. Neither do we. Stay there and we'll watch some more of the tape. The next piece was when he was getting ready for his Senior Ball at Highschool.”

They sat in silence and watched until the end, it didn't take long and was an obviously amateur effort. The clip finished, Mr. Rodden reopened the drapes on the window. Tyler quietly watched him, and then looked at his grandmother. She was sitting crying quietly.

“Grandmother, are you all right?”

“Yes.” She pulled herself together. “I'm fine. Sorry. I just get overcome when I look at that – our boy, our beautiful boy, so young and free, happy and laughing. Enjoy your youth Tyler, it doesn't last long.”

“I'll try,” he nodded. “I never knew my father, my mother was a total waste of space, but I did love my grandparents. We lived with them until they died and that's when it all went to hell.” He paused and looked at the dead tv screen, then continued, “I've got no time at all for family. The ones I knew gave me nothing but grief. But . . . I think that I'd like to know my other grandparents – if you want me of course.”

“Oh Tyler!” his grandfather replied. “Of course we want you. There's nothing we'd like more.”

Tyler stood and faced him and he teared up. “Granddad!”

“Oh, Boy. Beautiful Boy.” He put a hand on Tyler's shoulder, then drew him into an embrace. Mrs. Rodden joined in and all three stood hugging and crying.

Tyler had come home.

Okarito, 2

2011-10-24T19:18:00.000-07:00

He drove the short distance back to the police station and they went inside.

Jeffrey led the way in and Tyler followed. The door was closed but not locked.“Don't you lock the door when you're not here?”

“Not the front door, no. There's no need to, no-one's stupid enough to break into a police station.”

“I wouldn't bet on that.”

“No? Neither would I, come to think of it. Take your coat off, hang it up there and it'll be dry when you're ready to leave.”

“Sounds good.” Tyler shrugged his way out of the wet coat. He pulled the hood off his head and Jeffery got his first good look at him.There wasn't much to him, 'skinny as a rake', as the saying goes.

It was funny, he didn't know why but he'd expected him to have dark hair. He didn't. He had dark eyebrows but his hair was straight and straw-coloured. He had a real thatch of it. His eyes were a piercing blue, why did they look familiar?

He'd never seen this kid before in his life. It had to be just because he reminded him of someone; but who?

“Come, sit by the heater and I'll get us a drink.”

It was nice to have some pleasant company for once. The nights got long and time dragged when nothing was happening. Usually, when he did have company, they were drunk, stoned and/or misbehaving.

Tyler seemed like a nice-enough kid. Quiet and inoffensive. Now that he could see what he looked like, he was a good-looking boy, but very young. 'Legally an adult?' No way! This was a kid, a schoolboy. There was a thought, why wasn't this boy in school, it wasn't holiday time again already, was it?

Jeffery was alone in the toilet when that thought struck him. He finished, zipped-up and hurried back to the main office to question the boy. However, when he saw him, he didn't have the heart to – poor little bugger was ¾ asleep already.

“Oh well.” He had plenty of paperwork to keep him busy anyway. The kid obviously needed his sleep.

He stood looking down at him. “Come on. Come through to the back.”

“To the back?” He looked up.

“Yep. You can lie down on a bunk out there.”

“Oh, good! Thank you.” He rose wearily to his feet and plodded along behind him.

There were a couple of cells at the back of the building – bare concrete floors, concrete-block walls on 3 sides and a grid of sturdy steel bars along the front walls and doors. There was nothing much in them, just a concrete toilet pedestal and a couple of simple bunk-beds, built-in of course.

Tyler stopped in the doorway. “Are you locking me up? I thought you said I wasn't in trouble.”

“You're not in trouble, Boy, and, no, I'm not locking you up. It's nothing fancy, we're not running a hotel here, but there's no-one else around, it's all quiet back here, so I thought you could lie down here for a sleep if you like. I'll be out at the front desk, I've got some paperwork to catch-up on. I will leave the doors open and you can wander out when you're ready, okay?”

“Well, yeah, okay I guess. I mean, a cop wouldn't lie to me, would he?”

“No!” Jeffrey laughed. “I suppose that some might, but not me. Trust me, okay?”

“Yeah. I am way tired and that bed looks good to me.”

“It's not that good, but it'll do the job. Lie down and I'll leave you to it. I'll turn the lights out but leave the door open so you can see.”

Tyler lay on a bunk, closed his eyes and relaxed. Jeffrey thought that he was asleep already, but then he sighed and said, “This is SO good! Thanks.”

“Yes, well, you must need it. Have a good rest and I'll see you later.”

“Much later,” Tyler mumbled.

Jeffrey turned off the room lights and went out, leaving the door to the brightly-lit hallway open. He went back to the main office, to the desk and the work that was waiting there for him.

A couple of hours later, at almost 5am, he received a call and he had to go out. A car full of kids, probably drunk, had clipped the railing on a bridge, and spun off the road, through a fence and bogged-down in a paddock. They were off the main road, a couple of k's north of the town.

He was almost out the door when he remembered the boy sleeping out at the back. He went back to the cells, intending to wake the kid and put him outside. He obviously couldn't leave him there alone in the station.

However, it was still dark outside, dark, windy and wet. It was a miserable night. He looked down at the blond boy sleeping on the cell-block bed. He looked so young and innocent! He wouldn't be, of course, none of them were, but he looked like an angel sleeping there.

Jeffrey didn't have the heart to wake him up and put him out in the weather, so he quietly closed and locked the cell door without waking him. That'd keep him there and safe from trouble if he happened to wake before he got back.

He left him there and hurried out to go and deal with those larrikins. He shouldn't be too long, he hoped not, his shift finished at 7am. With a bit of luck, the boy wouldn't even wake before he came back and opened the door.

Murphy's Law kicked in, naturally, and things went wrong, as they always did. Jeffrey was not back by 7am, it was well after 8 by the time he returned. The driver of the car, the alleged driver, was stone-cold sober, surprisingly.

The kids had a few bumps and bruises, but nothing serious. Shame, in a way, it might've taught the little sods a lesson. They were a bit shaken up, but trying not to show it and trying to laugh it off. Also, of course, they were all trying to act sober when the cop showed up, but they obviously were not.

Jeffrey struggled to keep a stern face while he questioned them and recorded their details, which was all a lot of nonsense, he knew who they all were. They all thought they were so clever fooling dumb Mr. Plod. What they didn't know was that he'd seen it all a hundred times before and, also, not that long ago he was one of them – a smart-mouth kid and not always perfect.

More or less, satisfied at last that there really wasn't anything to charge them with, (though he still wasn't sure who really was the driver), he let them go with a telling off and a warning to behave themselves in the future.

“Time you all found something better to do with your time and, if you go hassling strangers in the main street again, you'll be sorry.”

“What? You . . How do you know about that?” Graeme Stokes protested.

“You'd be surprised what I know, Mr. Stokes. Hawkins, you come with me and I'll drop you at the hospital to get those cuts seen to. The rest of you can start walking. You've got a long walk home – your fault, not mine.”

“Aww! Deputy Dawg, can't you take us? You've got room.”

“No I can't. Regulations don't allow it. You walk. You'd better stop in and see Paul de Groot, he'll be in his milking shed by now. You can tell him what you've done to his fence and what you're going to do about it.

If you ask nicely, he might bring a tractor and pull your car out of there. Now go. Hawkins, you stay, get in the car, front passenger seat, and try not to bleed over everything.”

They grumbled, but they weren't willing to cross him; they started walking. Jeffrey sighed and grinned when he slipped back into the warmth of the car. He buckled-up, made sure that the kid had too, and drove back to town and the local cottage hospital.

He intended just dropping the boy off there, but that didn't happen. His old Aunt Felicity was there, waiting to see a doctor, so she had to tell him all about her troubles. He didn't want to know, females' plumbing problems repulsed him, but she gave him no choice.

When he finally got away and escaped to the car outside, it was broad daylight. What was the time? He got in and looked at the dashboard clock. Whoah! Nearly 8am.

His relief, the day-shift, would've been at the station for over an hour already. How were they getting on with his 'Stranger in the Night'? He hurried back to the station.

The kid's bike, with a two-wheeled trailer, was still there, out at the back, so that was a good sign. He went inside.

Ron, on the front desk, looked up and said, “Well! About time too. What on earth did you leave us out in the cells?”

“The kid you mean? He's just a boy passing through town. I found him out in the weather and brought him back here for the shelter. Why? Has he been giving you trouble?”

“Not trouble exactly. The kid's weird. He hasn't said a word to anyone, but, Man! If looks could kill! Why did you lock him up if he's done nothing wrong? That is one seriously pissed-off boy you've got back there.”

“He's done nothing wrong. I was just making sure that it stayed that way. I had to go out, he was sleeping and I didn't want to wake him and put him out into that weather, so I just pulled the door shut. Well, I was leaving him here, alone in the station, while he was shut in the cell he couldn't wander around and get into mischief. I'd better go and make peace with him.”

“Yeah? Good luck with that! I think you'll find that he hates your guts.”

“I hope not, but he wouldn't be the first and probably won't be the last. See you soon.”

He took the keys and went back to the cell block. He walked in there and the boy, Tyler, looked up and glared at him before swinging around and facing the other way.

“Hey!” Jeffery grinned. “Mad at me, aren't you? Look, Tyler, I'm sorry – okay? Things didn't go as I planned and I got held up. I thought I'd be back before the day-shift started and well before you woke up. I was wrong and I'm sorry.”

As he spoke he unlocked and opened the cell door. “There now. Come on out.”

Tyler turned back. “You locked me in here and you said that you wouldn't do that. Why did you?”

“Look, I know I shouldn't have. I had to go out to an accident and I was in a hurry. It was either wake you up and put you outside or to shut you in safely until I got back. I didn't want to wake you and I thought I'd be back sooner.”

“But you weren't! I've done nothing and those goons out there don't believe that. They think I'm a criminal or something.”

“I know, I'm sorry. I should've left them a note but I was in a hurry and didn't think of it. I stuffed up.”

“You did. Thanks!” Tyler snapped. He came out of the cell and Jeffery tried to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but was shrugged off. “Don't touch me!”

“Okay, okay – sorry,” he stepped back. “Let me make it up to you.”

“How?”

“My shift has finished and I usually have breakfast in the Diner before I go home to bed. Come with me and I'll buy you breakfast as an apology.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“Not hungry? Yes you are, of course you are. You said last night that you're out of food and you were waiting for the shops to open so you could buy some. Besides, you're a teenager and I've never yet met a teenager who wasn't a bottomless stomach on legs. Come on – come eat with me and let's be friends.”

“Friends . . well, maybe. Thanks, but you're buying. I can't afford to eat in restaurants.”

“Fair enough. I can afford it and I'll pay. I invited you.”

“All right then, but just breakfast, I'm not going home with you. We eat, and then we say goodbye. I'll stock-up on supplies, and then I'm leaving town, alone.”

“Okay, fine. Come through to the front and meet the guys.”

“I've already met them; they think I'm a crim.”

“They're just being careful, it comes with the job. Dealing with bad eggs all the time makes you hard.”

“Didn't with you.”

“Oh, I can be hard, but we've already met and I like you.”

“You like me? You don't even know me. Nobody likes me.”

“Maybe you don't give them a chance. You're right, I don't know you, but I like what I see so far.”

“You like what you see. Are you coming on to me?”

“No, I'm not coming on to you. I'm trying to be honest. I think you're interesting and, probably, a good kid. Come on through here.”

He introduced Tyler to the two policemen at the front, apologised again for the confusion, and they went out for breakfast. As they were leaving, Jeffery looked back. “By the way, the pushbike and trailer out there are Tylers'. He'll be back for them soon.”

It was still windy outside but it had, mostly, stopped raining. Tyler put his now dry oversize coat back on.

“You shouldn't have bothered,” Jeffrey said. “We're not going far, it's just around the corner.”

They went around the corner, across the street and into a small, modernish eatery in an old building. 'Dinah's Diner', the sign on the front proclaimed. Inside, they sat opposite each other in a booth opposite the long counter and next to the front window. The morning rush was over but the diner was still reasonably busy, about half full.

“”Hello Constable. You're late today. What're you having, the usual?”

“That's Senior Constable, but yeah. 'Morning Amy. I was held up a bit, but that's good, it's not so busy in here now. I'll have two Full English breakfasts, I've got a guest today.”

“So I see,” she nodded. “He's a guest and not a prisoner then.”

“He's not a prisoner. Tyler, this is Amy, my favourite waitress. Amy – Tyler.”

“Hello, Tyler.”

He was emerging from the coat again. He pushed the hood back and smiled up at her.

“Whoah!” Amy's half-formed smile froze and she actually went pop-eyed for an instant. “Tyler. What is your second name?”

“Umm, John. I'm Tyler John.”

“John? But what's your surname, I meant?”

“Oh, sorry. It's Rodden, Tyler John Rodden.”

“And John is after your father?”

“I guess so. His name was John, but I never knew him.”

“Shame. But, welcome to Okarito. Do your grandparents know that you're here?”

“I don't have any grandparents, they died a couple of years ago.”

“They did? But . . they. . . you – Oh! Of course, your mother's parents.”

“Yes, I used to live with them.”

“And now you've come to live here?”

“No, I haven't. I'm just passing through, I'll be gone by lunchtime. Well, if we've finished breakfast, I will.”

“Right. Sorry. Two Full English breakfasts coming up.” Amy went back to the kitchen area behind the counter.

“What is this breakfast, tea and toast?”

“No!” Jeffrey laughed. “Well, there is tea and toast, or coffee if you prefer, but it's a Full English. That means, fruit juice, cereal, toast, and then the main - sausage, bacon and egg, baked beans, fried mushrooms, grilled tomatoes and hash browns.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“Yeah, but small portions. It's a great breakfast and it sets you up for the day.”

“Do you eat here everyday?”

“Not every day, but most days. I usually come in after the night shift, and then go home and sleep for the day. I live alone.”

“Yeah?” Tyler nodded. “So do I. I live alone and I like it like that.”

“It's got its good points, I suppose. So, where are you going to on your bike?”

“Just touring. I told you, didn't I? I'm going down the west coast to the bottom, and then back up the east coast to the top.”

“Right. And then, where will you settle down?”

“I'm not sure. Probably in North Auckland, but I'm open to suggestions.”

“You could stop here. We've got a great little town here and there's always room for more.”

“Here, in this place? I don't think so! No offence, but this town is like the middle of nowhere.”

“Hey! We like it. I was born here and I'll probably die here.”

“Good for you. Umm, don't you get many visitors here?”

“What do you mean? We get plenty of visitors. Our lagoon is famous and it's a well-known surfing area. Why would you think that we don't get visitors?”

“The waitress and those other ladies are still looking and talking about me.”

“They are?” Jeffrey looked around. “Maybe they're just admiring a fine-looking boy.”

“Me? Give over!”

“Well you are. Ah, here we go. Thank you, Amy.”

The waitress unloaded the food on to their table. “So, Tyler John Rodden, you're not stopping here then?”

“I'm not. Once I've got some supplies, I'll be on my way.”

“You're not even going to have a look around?”

“I had a look around last night. I wasn't impressed.”

“No? Well it was dark and it was raining.”

“Jeffrey interrupted, “You should see the place on a sunny day, it's spectacular then, all green and clean.”

Tyler looked out of the window and shook his head. “By the time you get a sunny day, I'll be well-gone.”

“That's a shame,” Amy said. “You won't see our town at its best.”

“No, but whatever. It all means nothing to me.”

“We like it!” She walked away in a huff, but had to come back to ask if they wanted tea or coffee. (They both asked for coffees.)

His cooked breakfast arrived and Tyler started with relish. “Great! Thanks. I'm really starving.”

“You won't be for long. Get that down you, Lad,” Amy smiled again.

“Hey!” Jeffrey protested as she walked away. “I'm hungry too you know!”

“Patience, Jeffrey,. It's coming.”

Jeffrey's main arrived and he started on it before Tyler had finished his. Tyler paused in his eating and said, “Are you gay?”

“What? No! No, I am not,” Jeffrey choked on his meal. “Why are you asking me that?”

“They're still over there talking about us. I thought that maybe they're thinking you've picked me up.”

“They can think what they like,” Jeffrey looked around. “But they'd be wrong.”

“Okay, okay. I don't care if you are. I'm gay but I'm not looking for any hook-ups.”

“You're what? Gay?”

“Yeah,” Tyler shrugged. “Some people are you know.”

“I know that. But you?”

“Yes, me. Damm! Now there's more people looking at me.”

“More people?”

“Yeah. That couple just came in off the street, they're talking to Amy and now they're all staring.”

“Are you sure you're not being paranoid? Okay, you're right. They are staring at you.”

“Who are those people?” Tyler drank some coffee. “Do you know them?”

“Yes, sure I know them. Oh, Man! This is weird. That's Bob and Barbara Rodden, are you sure you don't know them?”

“Never seen them in my life. Their name is Rodden?”

“Yes, it is. Mr and Mrs Rodden.” Jeffrey stared at him as well. “I thought you looked familiar.”

“Familiar? I'm a total stranger here.”

“Well, maybe you are.” Jeffrey stood up as the middle-aged couple came across to them.

Okarito - Prologue & Pt.1

2011-10-23T17:16:00.000-07:00

(Okay, let's get this show on the road!

Don't ask what Okarito means, i haven't a clue &, apparently, neither does anyone else)

Okarito - Prologue

Deep in the wilds of New Zealand's South Island West Coast, about 130 kilometers south of Hokitika, 13 km off the main highway and on the edge of the sea, there is a tiny 'town' at the southern end of a large lagoon.

The Okarito Lagoon, by the Tasman Sea at the mouth of the Okarito River, is New Zealand's largest unmodified wetland and is home to many species of native birds including the rare and beautiful Kotuku, or White Heron.

Maori have known, visited and hunted in the area for many, many years – probably since about 600AD. The first European visitor was Thomas Brunner who passed through, walking along the beaches, during his epic journey of exploraion in 1847. Gold was discovered there in1865 and a town of about 1500 people sprang up almost overnight. An additional 2500 people were at the 3 Mile and 5 Mile mining sites.

The main street of this classic 'Wild West' town was lined with over 30 stores and hotels, a court house, gaol, blacksmith's shop, carenter, undertaker, school and the harbourmaster of the West Coast's 3rd largest port. The buildings were all on the east, inland, side of the street; the wild beachfront was on the west.

For over a decade there were regular services sailing directly to Australia. In the absence of any roads, the fastest way to travel to the Capital, in Wellington, was to catch a boat over to Melbourne and back.

The goldrush declined rapidly and so did the population. By the 1880's there were only 12 families and 2 hotels left. The school closed in 1946 and so did the port at about the same time. The instant birth and rapid decline of the town was an all too common theme in the boom and bust years of the West Coast gold rushes. Stafford, Goldsborough, Charleston, Lyell, Ross and many others, once sizable towns vanished into history when their people moved on to the next El Dorado.

Some towns survived and the people stayed, finding employment in other, newer, industries like coal mining and saw milling etc. Most of the towns of today were founded in the heady years of the 1860's and 70's when the area's population boomed.

Okarito was not one of the success stories. It hasn't quite died and is now home to about 30 permanent residents and a floating population of visitors and holidaymakers. But – what if? What if history had taken a slightly different course and Okarito survived and continued to struggle on into the 21st century?

Life could've been different there.

“It was a dark and stormy night.” No joke, it was. Seriously dark, a tree had fallen and taken out the lines cutting off the power in the town, and seriously stormy, it was blowing trees over.

A few lights were burning in buildings along the front street facing the beach, but not many, and those that were, were dim and feeble. People lived without electricity until not so long ago – that really must've been in the dark ages.

A lone figure, wrapped in an over-sized padded and hooded coat, stood in the sparse shelter of a storefront, looking along the dark and quiet street. The coat was a garish orange colour and it was not really a raincoat – hoods of raincoats are not trimmed with fake purple fur, and this one was.

There's a line in the bible, vaguely remembered from Sunday School days, something about going forth and preaching the gospel 'even unto the ends of the earth'.

'I wonder if they've got here yet, because this surely is the end of the earth'.

The soggy weather-beaten little town was as far away from anywhere as it was possible to get in New Zealand, which is a relatively empty country anyway, and New Zealand is a long, long way from anywhere else. Why on earth would anyone want to live here? It'd be a good place to put the Restaurant at the End of the Universe – hard to see much else it'd be good for.

Some people did live here though, as strange as that seemed. A car was slowly crawling along the street towards him. He stayed where he was, out of the rain, watching it coming. The car went past; it was quite full, there were 5 or 6 heads in there, all looking at him.

They stopped, and then backed-up. Windows wound down and a bright light shone in his face but that was invisible, hidden in the recesses of the fur-trimmed hood.

“Hey you! What are ya?”

“Come outta there so we can have a look at ya? You a guy or a girl?”

“Gotta be a girl in a coat like that.”

“Butt-ugly whatever it is if it's hiding away like that. Hey, Ugly!”

“Yeah, Ugly. Ugly! You, Ugly, let's see ya.”

“What're you doing here? Looting? Piss off out of our town.”

The orange coat clad figure turned his back on them which infuriated the characters in the car.

“Hey! You deaf or something? Ugly!” One protested but the driver moved on when he saw a police car coming towards them.

He accelerated and disappeared around a corner up the street.

Midnight in Okarito, almost. Senior Constable Jeffery Ensor drove slowly along the main street, eyes flicking to and fro, checking, patrolling from the comfort of the car. That surely beat walking the beat, out in the shitty weather, like they used to do in the bad old days

The town was quiet of course. Only fools and idiot policemen would be out and about on a night like this. The weather was horrible out there, not really a major storm, but horrible nonetheless. Someone was about and about, a car sped away and disappeared around the corner into Gladstone Street.

As he got closer, he saw that there was someone out there, on the sidewalk in the sparse shelter outside the Prince Albert Hotel. Who? It was impossible to tell. Maybe a stranger, maybe not. All Jeffery could see was the orange coat, sneakered feet and a bit of the face inside the fur-trimmed hood which was pulled up over the head and closed tight around the face. Even the hands were covered by the over-long sleeves.

This was a stranger, but it reminded Jeffery of someone? Ah, yes! Kenny, the coat-wrapped South Park kid who was always getting killed – that's who he was like.

He carried on to the end of the street, his beat, leaving the Kenny figure standing there, by the Prince Albert. When he back-tracked and returned, the figure was still there, like a coat-clad statue, it hadn't moved.

There was no-one else at all out in the street, not surprisingly. Jeffery wouldn't be there either if he didn't have to.

'There's just you and me out here, Fella. Pity the poor policeman, keeping his town safe for decent people.'

Even the villains were home in bed, he wished that he was too. He went back to the station where the coffee-pot and the heaters were.

After midnight, way after, like 3am, tired and bored, Jeffery went out for another slow drive around the town. It was something to do, might help to keep him awake and it paid to vary the times of his late-night patrols.

There was still no-one about, which'd be why his night had been so deadly quiet and boring. But, there was one person out there. The Kenny-coat figure was still there, outside the Prince Albert Hotel – that coat was instantly recognisable.

That was a good thing too, if not he might not have realised that there was a person inside it. It hadn't moved far, but now it was hunched-down on the sidewalk, up against the wall, like a pile of rubbish or whatever. However, no-one puts rubbish out in the street dressed in a coat.

Jeffery did a not-quite-legal u-turn and stopped next to the hotel.

“Whoever you are, I'm glad I'm not you. Let's have a look at you then.”

He got out of the warm and dry car, which was a sacrifice, and leant over the figure on the sidewalk.

“Hey, Fella, all right, are you?”

There was no response, he reached out, pushed where a shoulder would be and the figure toppled over sideways.

“Damm! I didn't shove you that hard, did I?”

He flicked on his flashlight to inspect the small figure laid out there before him. The contours in the coat showed a long, lean body, arms and legs. It was probably a teenager in there.

“What're you doing out here, you Poor Little Bugger?”

He shook the figure's shoulders to wake it up and it worked. It, (he?), sat up, stretched and groaned. Yes, it was a boy all right, either that or a very deep-voiced girl.

“I. Ah!” He registered that it was a cop who'd woke him up and he cowered back against the wall.

Jeffery recognised the fearful posture and he tried to reassure him. “It's okay. No problems, okay?”

“Okay?” he replied, rising to his feet. “I wasn't doing anything wrong. I wasn't!”

“No, of course you weren't. I was just concerned about you. What are you doing out here in this horrible night?”

“Trying to stay dry,” the figure shrugged. “It's not easy.”

“I imagine it wouldn't be, on a night like this,” Jeffery replied.

“I arrived in town late and everything was shut. I'm a stranger here and I don't know where to go, so I was just sitting waiting for the morning.”

“All night long? There's still hours to go yet.”

“I, umm. I was sleeping.”

“You were, and I woke you up, didn't I?”

“Well, yeah. But I often do wake up when someone punches me, especially when it's a cop.”

“Hey! Make me feel guilty, why don't you? I didn't punch you anyway. I just shoved you and you fell over.”

“But why did you shove me?”

“I just wanted to see if you were all right.”

“I was before you came along.”

“How was I to know you were just sleeping there? It's not normal to sleep sitting out in a storm, you know.”

“Maybe not, but it's sheltered here and I don't know where else to go.”

“If you were stuck, you should've come to the station.”

“The Police station? Really? Are you taking in refugees now?”

“No, but we would if we had to. I wouldn't want to see you die of exposure out here in the night. That could cause all sorts of paperwork.”

“Nice to know you care! Don't worry, I've got no intentions of dying. This is a nice, warm coat that I'm wearing.”

“What are your intentions?”

“I'm not hanging around, getting in your hair. In the morning, I'll get something to eat, stock-up on supplies, and then I'll be on my way.”

“So soon? You're not staying around here then?”

“I'm just passing through. There's nothing to keep me here. Actually, I was wondering why anyone would stay here.”

“Hey! It's not that bad. Some of us quite like the place.”

“Some of us. I don't see why you would.”

“No? Okay, it doesn't look too flash in the wind and the rain on a dark night, but you should see it on a sunny day, it's glorious then.”

“I'll take your word for it. By the time you've got sunshine, I'll be well gone.”

“Right. Where are you going to?”

“Nowhere. I'm just drifting around.”

“You're travelling on your own?”

“Of course.”

“Where are you from?”

“Auckland, originally.”

“You're a long way from home then.”

“I am. I'm going down the west side of both islands, and then I'll go back up on the east sides.”

“That's quite a trip. How are you travelling?”

“By bike. I've got a touring cycle and camping gear and everything I need.”

“A push-bike?” Jeffery looked up and down the street. “I don't see a bike anywhere. Where is it now?”

“In the carpark at the back of the police station.”

“You left your bike behind the station?”

“Of course. It's the safest place in any town, no-one's going to steal it from there.”

“I hope you're right, but I wouldn't guarantee it. There's some cheeky little sods around.”

“I know. I saw a car-full of them, hours ago.”

“They're probably home in bed by now. I'm going back to the station. Do you want to come with me?”

“Why? Are you arresting me? I told you, I've done nothing wrong. It's not a crime to sit on the footpath, is it?”

“No, it's not a crime, but it's also not very nice on a night like this.”

“Tell me about it!”

Jeffery sat back and grinned. Okay, this boy was a total stranger, he knew nothing about him and he could be a right little bad-arse for all he knew, but he didn't think so. There was something about this kid, something that he liked, and he felt sorry for him.

“What's your name?”

“Tyler,” the kid replied.

“Tyler. And what is your family name?”

“Does it matter? I've got no family and I could tell you anything, you wouldn't know.”

“I guess not? Have you got a driver's licence?”

“”I wish I did! No, I haven't got a licence yet.”

“Not yet? How old are you, Tyler?”

“Why?”

“Because I'm nosy. You seem to be very young to be travelling around on your own.”

“But I'm not.”

“You're not on your own?”

“No. Yes. I am on my own, but I'm not too young. Legally, I'm an adult.”

“Really? You're a real baby-face if that's true. From what I can see, there's no way you look like you're 18.”

“Yeah, I know,” the kid sighed. “But it's true. It's a long story.”

“And this is not the time or place to be telling it. Well, Mister Legal Adult, I'm going back to the station where it's warm and dry. Are you coming with me or not?”

“I don't see why I need to. If I'm not in trouble, why do I have to come with you?”

“You don't have to come, I just thought you'd like to. There's no-one else there, you can get out of this weather and you could put your head down for the rest of the night, if you'd like.”

“Back to sleep sounds good to me! Is there somewhere I could lie-down? It's a cop-shop not a hotel.”

“It's surely not. But, yes, there's a couple of cells and they've got bunks in them.No-one's using them, so you could lie-down there. I've been known to do that myself on a quiet night.”

“You locked yourself up? Okay, let's get out of this.”

Jeffery got back into the car and the boy got in with him.

Whakahapa, 16. (Final)

2011-04-18T14:40:00.000-07:00

(Had to add a bit to part 1 too. Been typing all night!)

Next day dawned. Again, Jeroboam was awake before Amos stirred but he didn't wake him, he lay quietly, patiently waiting until Amos sat up and smiled at him.

“Good morning, Good Looking.”

“Good morning to you. Amos, I'm dying for a leak!”

“A leak? Oh, you want to pee.”

“I need to pee, badly need to. Have you got the bottle?:”

“Yes, right here. Let's do it then.”

They took care of things. Amos took the bottle into the bathroom and attended to his own business while he was there. He returned to their room and opened the drapes. Jeroboam craned his neck but couldn't see more than the tops of some buildings, hills and grey sky.

“Is the weather improving?”

“It's a lot better than yesterday. Still cloudy but not raining. Not right now anyway. There's not even much wind out there.”

“That's good. Doesn't make much difference to me anyway, but you and Esther can go out if you want to.”

“I don't want to. I'm staying here with you, but Esther's going out. She's going looking for a water-heater, a generator and electrical tools and stuff. We might have hot water and power by tonight.”

“That'd be good.”

“It would, it'd be excellent!”

Esther left quite early on her foraging expedition so the boys were left alone together for most of the day. There were some things that Amos would've liked to go out and look for and he was keen to explore the big empty city. From what he could see from the windows, it was a fascinating place. But he wouldn't go out and leave Jeroboam alone there; that was not going to happen.

He never strayed far from his bedside all day, not even when he was sleeping, which he seemed to do all too much of. He did have to leave him though, in the late afternoon, when Esther returned with a full load of gear. She wanted help to carry it all up from the street.

Jeroboam said that he felt guillty just lying there while the others were working. Esther told him to grin and bear it.

“What are you going to do anyway, you can't even walk down the stairs.”

“That's right,” said Amos. “Your job is to lie there and get well. Once you've done that, then we'll work you.”

“Okay, I know but I still wish I could help.”

“You will, one day when you're better.”

They didn't get any power connected or water heated that day, it was far too late. However, by the end of the next day , they had both – water heated in a gas califont and jury-rigged electric lights and appliances. They'd even be able to iron their clothes, if they ever ran out of new ones.

The radio and television picked-up no signals at all, of course, but now they could play pre-recorded music, films and other programmes. They'd never be bored now and it was so good to have some background noise to smother the oppresive silence.

Days passed, one by one, and each one brought new discoveries. Jeroboam recovered, slowly but surely; even his leg did. It wasn't broken, it was gangrenous, it was just twisted and spectacularly bruised. The bruises faded, the swelling receded and he got better. They were lucky. Things could've been much worse, especially considering that there were no doctors to turn to.

The time came when he was able to, slowly, walk down the stairs and out into the street. He sat in a wheelchair, Amos pushed him and they went exploring. They didn't go too far though, only through the Civic Center to the waterfront, then they agreed they'd rather be back indoors. It wasn't that nice a day.

Back at the hotel, with rests, Jeroboam walked up three flights of stairs and they moved into the Bridal Suite which had bigger rooms, a better view and, most importantly, a bigger bed. It was a huge bed, the biggest either of them had ever seen, even bigger than their parents' family beds back at home. Esther said that it was a King Size. They'd never seen a king – they must be big men!

The bed was theirs now so Amos had no excuse not to share it with him. He said that he was comfortable enough down on the floor, but Jeroboam didn't like him sleeping down there, it wasn't right. Now he could come up and sleep with him, there was lots of room.

Amos wanted to, but he didn't. He hadn't slept with anyone since his parents turned him out when he was 3 years old. Jeroboam said, “Well neither have I, but now I want to sleep with you.”

“We can't do any of that sex stuff, not yet anyway.”

“I know that, but one day we will. We can cuddle, can't we?”

“I suppose so – carefully.”

“Sounds like you don't want to.”

“I do want to, but I don't want to hurt you in my sleep. What if I kick your leg or something?”

“I don't want that either! Trust me, if you do the whole world will hear me screaming! Please share the bed with me.”

“Okay, yes please!”

“Good, we'll do that.”

They slept together that night and every night from then on. They didn't need all the room in the bed, they only used a small part of it. They started sharing the bath when Jeroboam could bathe. It was better than wasting hot water also, it was fun.

It was a bit embarrassing telling Esther they were sharing the bed, but she said, “Hey, if that's what you want, you go for it. You don't need my permission, I'm not your mother. As long as you don't impinge on my space, you do what you like.”

She spent time each day just driving around, looking at her city and searching for signs of people, but never found any. Sometimes they went with her, but usually didn't. They were happy staying in the hotel, watching movies. They had hundreds and hundreds to watch, it was a whole new world for them.

The only films they'd ever seen were educational and exhorting ones. Musical comedies were much more enjoyable. They couldn't get enough of those.

There came the day when Esther said it was time for her to go. She'd found a suitable micro-light and even done a couple of test flights. Winter would be coming soon, it would be too bloody cold for flying then. She was anxious to explore before it was too late.

Jeroboam was all-but recovered, he'd soon be as good as new. They didn't need her to nursemaid them, they could look after themslves and each other.

Before she left a decision had to be made and they agreed that they'd stay there in the Academy Hotel. It was centrally located, new and comfortable. The only change they made was to move up to the penthouse suite on the 12th floor.

They didn't have power to work the lifts, unfortunately, but the stairs worked. There were great views up there, and it was more easily defensible – not that they seen anything to defend themselves from, but Amos still worried. He was good at worrying.

With cables and pulley-wheels, they jacked-up flying foxes down to the rooves of several adjacent buildings. Launching themselves off the roof and flying over the concrete canyon and the far-below street was scary but fun. It was all part of their defences and emergency escape routes. Hopefully, they'd never need them, but it was still fun.

They went with Esther to the airfield, wished her luck and waved goodbye as she flew away. She didn't know how long she'd be gone, maybe a long time.

It was a bit sad watching her go, but not sad enough to cry about it. They looked at each other, shrugged, grinned and went home.

If there was anyone out there, hopefully, Esther would find them.

Somehow they knew there was a world somewhere that continued without them. Workers worked, farmers farmed, mothers mothered and fathers fathered and all the multiple threads of millions of lives went on, coming together, drawing apart, laying the course of the future and making history.

Somewhere there was a world that didn't die; a world where doctors, physicians and psychologists, pondered the rapid eye movements and the continued brain activity of patients deep in barbiturate-sustained, pathological comas and they speculated on what kind of world they inhabited.

One night, exhausted after a busy day, Amos dreamt of flying in the night on the flying fox. Somehow it no longer needed the cable and instead of just crossing the street he flew all around, high above the city. Wind was blowing, rain was falling and it was cold. His fingers were numb, his grip slipped and he fell through the air.

The pull of the earth took hold of his spine and his limbs spread over space. There was a fearful moment of falling, spiralling down with the air pressing hard, then it let go. Still falling, but up not down. Falling up???

Light split his eyes open, brilliant, painful, enormous light. Silence pulsed, it expanded and it shrunk. All of the world shrunk into nothingness and back again.

Amos woke alone and stretched. He rolled on to his back, yawned vigorously and flung his arms out wide in the big bed as he stretched and yawned again.

Whakahapa, 15

2011-04-16T14:39:00.000-07:00

(Here we go. Don't know when i'll get the next bit done - school holidays again, already, and we're about to be infested by rug-rats. 4 boys so far & more to come).

Amos woke in the morning, sat up and grinned. Jeroboam was grinning back at him.

“Morning,” he smiled.

“Hi, Amos. Am I allowed out of bed? I need to pee and, if I don't do it soon, I'll wet the bed instead.”

“I, umm, I'll ask Esther. We're allowed to do anything, but I'm not sure if it's safe and don't know how to go about it. We don't want you to hurt yourself.”

“I don't want that either, but I have to pee!”

“Wait. Hold on to it!” He rushed out and across the hall.

“Esther? Esther!”

“Yeah, Boy. What now?”

“Jeroboam's awake and he needs to pee, like now! What do we do? He can't walk to the bathroom.”

“You're right, he can't. Okay, I'm coming. Go back and sit him up again.”

He carefully hauled Jeroboam upright, stuffing pillows behind him. Esther came in and rummaged through the pile of gear that they'd brought up from the hospital and the ambulance.

“I'm sure there was one here somewhere. Ah yes, here we go!”

She stood and showed the strangely shaped, wide-mouthed, stainless-steel bottle with a handle on its side. “Know what this is? No? Well, I'll tell you. It's a peeing bottle. You poke your willy in there and let go!”

“Poke my willy?”

“You don't know what a willy is? It's your penis, Kid. How else are you going to piss in the bottle? Help him, Amos. I need to go and pee myself.”

She left the room and they looked and blushed at each other.

“Amos, I have to go! We've just got to do it.”

“We do. We'll get used to it, I suppose. The first time must be the worst time.”

“It'll be even more embarrassing if I wet the bed.”

Amos pulled the covers down, almost all the way to his feet. Jeroboam was startlingly naked, apart from the bandages, and his 'willy' was semi-erect, (and beautiful!) He took hold of it (!), between his thumb and 2 fingers, and put it into the mouth of the bottle, then looked the other way.

It took a few seconds before he was able to relax and let go and when he did, he peed and peed and they were both starting to worry that he was going to fill and overflow the bottle.

But he didn't, which was a relief. He was greatly relieved all around and smiled widely when Amos, carefully, removed the bottle and covered him up again. “Oh, that's ever so much better! Thanks Amos.”

“Not a problem. It will be easier next time. I've got to go and pee myself now. Don't go away and I'll be back soon.”

They had toasted crumpets with cereal and reconstituted powdered milk with canned peaches for breakfast. Jeroboam thanked them both and said that they had never eaten so well, but he could get used to it.

It was a horrible wet and windy day outside. The teeming rain made a strange hissing noise on the concrete-block buildings and the quiet street out there. Amos opened the drapes to let the gray daylight in and opened a window for some fresh air.

“Is that okay, Esther?”

“Yes, sure it is. It's not cold and not too drafty. You're right, we do need some air in here. I don't think that any of us will be going far today, but I do want to go back to the hospital later.”

“The hospital? Is there something else we need?”

“There is. We need a wheelchair, one of those special ones for taking people to the toilet. Peeing in the bottle will only take us so far, he can't dump in it.”

“Dump?” said Jeroboam. “Oh! Right. I can't do that.”

“Don't hospitals have bed-pans for that?” Amos queried.

“They do, but Eww! Plus, if we can put him in a chair, we can shower him as well.

Speaking of which, we need to get to a plumbing supplies store so we can rig-up a water-heater. I doubt if there'll be one in the central city, I'll drive out to a suburban shopping centre to find one tomorrow. For today, we'll heat some water in a pan and give him a bed-bath.”

“A bed-bath? Like, washing him all over? Oh, wow! That will be my job. I'll do that!”

“I'm sure you will,” Esther laughed. “Won't be much of a chore at all, will it? There's not much else to do on a wet day. We'll rest and talk, I guess.. When we get a generator, also tomorrow, we'll be able to power-up a TV.”

“But will there be any programmes being broadcast.”

“Telecast. No, there won't but there are thousands of old movies we can watch. There's a shop right across the street and it's full of DVD's. Who wants coffee?”

Only Esther had coffee. The boys had a soda.

Amos put some water on to heat on the gas cooker and cleaned and tidied the 'kitchen' set-up in a spare bedroom. (There were LOTS of spare bedrooms). He opened the widows in there to air that out as well. He found towels, face-cloths and little packets of soap in a bathroom cupboard and took them, and the hot water, in to where Jeroboam lay.

Esther announced that she did NOT want to watch this, so she went to explore the hotel while she waited. As she left she told them to behave themselves and remember that Jeroboam was not fit and healthy – as if they'd forget.

Amos was very excited about all of this and, when he peeled the covers down, he could see that Jeroboam was as well. But they were very controlled and they did behave themselves – the last thing he wanted to do was to open up any of his wounds, Jeroboam didn't want that either!

He did take the time to gently wash and dry his genitals. The erection actually made that easier to do.Amos was careful to keep his hand covered with the soapy cloth and then with the towel. Jeroboam lay back with his eyes clenched shut and they competed to see who could blush brightest.

Amos was kind-of disappointed, but also relieved, when he had to pull the covers up again and straighten them. He had never in his wildest dreams ever imagined that he would get to do anything so intimate. That would've been fun if not for the injuries.

He went and got them both tall glasses of fruit juice. It wasn't refrigerated, of course, but was still cool and refreshing. They both kind-of needed that.

“You, umm, you said that Elder Bethuel had photographs of us?”

“He did – dirty ones. He had naked photos of us, and a whole lot of other kids in his album in his room.”

“He's a creepy old man!”

“He was, by the looks of it. There's no other reason for him to have them.”

“Funny!”

“What's funny?”

“It's creepy and it makes me feel unclean knowing that, but I don't mind you looking at a picture of me. That's different. I wish that I had one of you.”

“We could arrange that, but not now. I'm not looking my best right now.”

“I guess not, but you still look good to me. Jeroboam, did I tell you that I'm ever so glad that you're here?”

“I think you did. I'm glad that you're here too, very glad.”

“That's good. What about those Elders?”

“Yes, what about them? Lying, thieving bastards!”

“Jeroboam, I'm shocked! I didn't know you could talk like that. I was shocked too, at how they were living up there. Everyone was supposed to be equal and they were stealing from the rest of us and that's not right!”

“Definitely not right. I wish now that i'd set fire to the place.”

“Yeah? Well, I think I did better than that.”

“What did you do?”

“Turned on the taps on all of the hand-basins up there and flooded the place. By the next morning water was running down the stairs and out the front door. I dammed it and sent it through the hall into the kitchens.”

“Oh, that's good!”

“Yesh. If no-one's stopped it, it will all be a soggy, stinking mess by now.”

“Serves them right.”

“Serves who right?” Esther came back in with a bottle of wine – a big bottle. It was early in the day to be drinking, but she didn't care. What else was there to do?

The boys had a small drink each. Well, you have to try it and a little is meant to be medicinal, wasn't it? One was all they had. It was sickly sweet, too much even for their tastes, and too much would not be a good thing. They drank soda.

The three of them sat around talking, sharing experiences and trying to puzzle out what had happened to their world. Esther said it'd be interesting if a ship from Earth, or one of the other colony planets, was to arrive. They were the only survivors so everything on New Salem was theirs legally as well as in fact.

Amos spoke again about how he remembered two different things – falling into the fireplace, hitting his head and dying in Elder Stephanas' rooms, and also waking in the motel in Engaddi. “It's like I've got a split personality and each one has its own memories! Weird.”

Jeroboam said, “That is weird and I'll tell you something even weirder – I've got dual memories too.”

Esther said, “Yeah? What do you remember?”

“I woke up in my own bed in the dormitory and everyone had gone and I was all alone. But I also died too. I stole a whole lot of pills, went up the hill at the back of the Community and I swallowed them all. I lay down and – well, I should be dead. I don't know how I got back to my bed.”

“No you didn't!” Amos protested. “You're here and you're going to be fine.”

“I hope I am – now I do.”

Esther said, “But you remember lying down up on the hill? This is really strange. I'm not sure, but I think I remember something similar. That is weird!”

“You too? What do you remember, Esther? This could explain everything!”

“I don't see how. But first, Jeroboam, finish your story. Why did you take the pills?”

“Because, because of Amos, becase he was dead. Told you it was strange, it's got to be a dream.”

“You wanted to die because you thought that I had?”

“I did. I didn't want to live any more, not without you. I couldn't, so I did it.”

“You died, and then you woke up, like Amos did?”

“Yes, just like me!”

“Just like me too,” Esther nodded. “I think the same thing happened to me. I was flying a light plane in a storm, I collided with another one, spiralled down and crashed in flames. I remember the heat, so very searing hot. I couldn't breathe, the air was burning, and I was gone. Next thing I knew, I woke in a stranger's house in another town. There was no-one there and i don't know how I got there. There was no-one anywhere until I found you two. How's that for weird?”

“Yes, how's that? That's a hat-trick!”

They chewed that over for an hour, but couldn't make any sense of it and were getting nowhere, so they moved on to other topics. The day went really fast. It was cosy sitting there safely out of the horrible weather outside and no-one was bored at all.

Esther went out in the afternoon and returned with a wheelchair. It was a special one, just a toilet seat on a wheeled frame that could be manouvered over a toilet. They didn't use it, yet. They would when they had to, but weren't looking forward to that – gross!

Jeroboam used the pee-bottle a couple of times in the day. They were probably drinking too much, but that was okay. Amos helped him each time. He probably could've managed it on his own, but didn't want to. Amos didn't mind either.

They ate a light meal. No-one was very hungry (!) They hadn't done much all day. Jeroboam used the bottle again, and then they went to sleep early. Tomorrow would be another day.

Whakahapa, 14

2011-04-15T13:13:00.000-07:00

(Pronounced - 'Foka-har-par')

“Jeroboam!!” Amos flew to his side. He was there, leaning over him, before Esther even got out of her chair. “You're awake! How long have you been awake? Are you hurting? Where does it hurt? You must be hungry – we've got this stuff, a meal in a drink. Do you want some now? Does it hurt? Oh Shit! You're bloody awake, at last!”

Jeroboam smiled up at him. “Hello, Amos. Since when do you use swear words?”

“Since now. Esther taught me, she knows lots of swear words – bloody good ones too. This is Esther. She's been looking after you real good. I'd be useless!”

“Yes, I think you would. Out of the way, Boy. Let me have a look at him.”

“Don't go far,” Jeroboam smiled.

“I won't. I'll be here. What can I do, Esther?”

“You can stand down at the end of the bed. Now, Mister Jeroboam, how does that head feel?”

Amos stood quietly watching, feeling more and more useless while Esther checked Jeroboam over, cleaned him and changed his dressings. She seemed to sense this because she tried to get him involved, passing bandages, ointments and cloths etc., but he held back and she had to do it all herself. He smiled to himself, he knew what she was trying to do, it was fairly obvious, but he was shy all of a sudden so he didn't play along. Esther might talk rough and tough, but she had a good heart really.

“Okay.” She finished at last. “You're not too bad. We'll have you up and about soon. We were lucky.”

“We?” Jeroboam queried. “I don't feel lucky.”

“You were, you're not dead and, yes, we – you got hit and it was me that hit you.”

“Oh, that. It was my fault. I was sleeping in a car. I woke up and heard you coming and I was afraid that I was going to miss you, that you wouldn't see me and you'd be gone. I ran out on the road in front of you. I should have been more careful.”

“Yes, you should've, and so should I. It's amazing how fast you get used to racing around on empty roads. I just learnt they might not be totally empty.”

“You might be right,” he grinned. “What's your prognosis, Doctor? Will I live?”

“I'm no doctor, but I think you might. You look pretty good to me, much better than you did. There's just one thing worries me a little – that leg doesn't look good at all. I don't think there's a fracture, I hope I'm not wrong. But it's swollen and that's some really bad bruising. Maybe you're bleeding on the inside. How does it feel to you?”

“It's, ah, I don't know. It's so swollen it is really, really tight and just numb. Everything feels tight.”

“Yeah?” She held his foot and bent and straightened his knee a couple of times. “No screaming, so it's not broken. In the bad old days, they would've put leeches on you to suck the blood out and release the pressure. I'm not sure if that did any good or not, but we can't try it anyway because the leeches will be all gone. We'll cut it if we have to.”

“I hope not!” he cringed. “Everything has gone, all the people, all the animals, everything!”

“Almost everything. If he ever finds his tongue again, Amos can fill you in on that. Do you think you can try eating something?”

His serious face lit-up with a smile. “I thought you'd never ask! I'm starving here.”

“Of course you are,” she nodded. “It's all part of the teenage condition, isn't it? All you kids think about is your bellies and what hangs off them.”

“No, it's not,” he mumbled and blushed as brightly as only a fair-skinned blond can blush.

“Oh but it is,” Esther grinned. “Amos, My Sweet, we need to get him, at least, semi-upright so he can eat and drink. We'll need pillows, lots of pillows to prop him up. Go get us 12 or 20 pillows from the other rooms.”

“I will. I'll do that.” Amos rushed out of the room.

“Gone quiet, hasn't he?” said Jeroboam. “I'm starting to think he's not happy to see me.”

“Don't you believe it!” Esther snorted. “He's not just happy, he's absolutely delighted to see you. He's been hanging out for you to wake up. Now you have, he doesn't know what to say and he's gone all whakama. You be nice to him.

Amos is a damm nice kid and he really likes you. You could very easily hurt him and, if you do you'll answer to me!”

“You think he likes me?”

“I know he does, he likes you a lot.”

“Could've fooled me. We used to be friends when we were little. He was my best friend ever. Then we got older and he didn't want to know me and always stayed as far away as he could.”

“He did, but not because he didn't like you, quite the opposite. What about you, do you still like him?”

“Oh yes, very much! It hurt when he left me, but I never stopped loving him. Since whatever it was happened, I've been searching everywhere for him. I came here, to Hebron, because I thought that anyone left would come here to the capital, but it's so big it's scary when you're all on your own! Now Amos is here, and that's good, I think.”

“Oh boy! You, Kid, and the Boy, need to talk. You need to talk a lot and be honest with it.”

“I will, I do, I do need to talk.”

“Good, good. I don't know how much you've figured out, as far as we know, we three may be the only people left in the world. There could be others, but we haven't found them yet. There's not many in any case. The old world, with all its rubbish, has gone and the old rules and laws don't apply anymore. The law is now what we say it is and everything is there for us to use. Remember that.”

“I suppose we could just keep the 10 Commandments, everyone said they are all the law a society needs.”

“Maybe, but a lot of them don't apply now. Like the one about not coveting your neighbour's ass, that's his donkey, not his arse. What donkey? What neighbour? Covet whatever you like, you can't steal, it belongs to no-one.”

“Oh. We might have to rewrite the Commandments!”

“That's not allowed – adding to or subtracting from the bible is expressly forbidden. Don't tell me you're another one who hasn't read the book for himself.”

“I won't tell you then.”

“Yeah? You're all right, Kid. You be nice to the Boy and everything will be sweet.”

“I, ah – yeah.”

Amos hurried back in with all the pillows he could carry, cutting their conversation short, and he stopped staring at the boy on the bed who stared back at him.

“All right then!”Esther took charge, again. Somebody had to and it obviously wasn't going to be either of these two young loons. She peeled the covers forward from his chest and shoulders. “Turn on to your back, Kid. I'm going to hold you under the shoulders and sit you up. If it hurts, say so! We don't want to damage you. Amos, you get behind him and pack the pillows in to support him.”

They got him upright with no protests and he sank back into the pillows, pale in the face and sweating a little, but he assured her that he felt fine.

“All right, as long as you're sure. I'm going to go and rustle-up some food. Anything you fancy?”

“Anything!”

“Yes, I thought so. Amos, you stay here. Give him a bottle of the food drink and, for goodness sake, talk to him! This is your friend, remember?”

She left and Amos silently offered the bottle, complete with a drinking straw. Jeroboam took it in his unbandaged hand, had a sip, and then paused and said, “I remember. It was a long time ago, but I remember when we were friends. Why did you turn away from me, Amos?”

“I had to. I didn't want to but I had to stop being around you.”

“But why did you?”

“It doesn't matter now, does it? Everything has changed.”

“You can say that again! So we can be friends now?”

“If you want to, we can..”

“Of course I want to, I've always wanted to and that hasn't changed. I love you.”

“You would. It's your Christian duty to love everyone.”

“Not everyone, just you and I don't think it's agape I'm feeling. Not totally anyway.” It's more like philos with a good helping of eros mixed in too.”

“Oh wow. You were paying attention in classes. You always were a good scholar, weren't you?”

“Oh yes, I was always the good little everything wasn't I? What a load of bull!”

“What? What do you mean? You were always perfect.”

“But I wasn't! It was an act, Amos. It was always an act and it was a lie.”

“A lie? You couldn't tell a lie.”

“Is that what you think? It was all a lie, my whole life was. I acted the good boy because I was scared not to and I didn't know what else to do. If you'd been with me, I might have been able to stand-up to them, but alone I couldn't do it.”

“Really??”

“Really. You have to believe me. For once in my life I'm telling the truth. We can do that now, we don't have to pretend anymore.”

“We really don't, do we? I have always pretended too. I think I've spent my whole life in a mild state of terror, always afraid of everybody and afraid to just be me.”

“We both have. Do you like me at all, Amos?”

“Like you? No, I don't. You are my better-than-a-brother and I love you. I always have and I always will and if that means I'm going to Hell, then I'm going to Hell.”

“I think we've already been to Hell. I think we were born and bred there. If God is like the Elders, then I don't want to go to the other place. If you love me, show me!”

“How can I show you I love you?”

“Kiss me.”

“You think I should?” Amos leant towards him.”

“I think you should.” Jeroboam cupped his hand behind his head, reeled him in and he kissed him. They embraced, carefully and gently, and cried on each other's shoulders.

They broke apart when Esther brought some food in, (omelettes). She said nothing, just grinned at their teary faces, offered the dishes, and then went back for her own.

Next time she came back, she said that she was pleased to see them sorting themselves out. She asked Jeroboam if he could cook, and when he said only very basically, she snorted and said that they were two of a kind! They agreed and said that they were, in many ways.

They sat and talked for a while, but not for long. Jeroboam was still tired and he needed sleep. He knew no more about what was going on than they did. Maybe the planet was fighting back against colonialisation in ways that they couldn't understand?

Jeroboam had woken-up one day and everyone had gone. Like Amos had, he went up to the top floor of the Community Building and was shocked at what he saw there. That was when he realised that he wasn't the only one who was living a lie. Maybe everybody was?

Elder Bethuel even had an album full of photographs of naked boys, mostly taken in the shower rooms. Had Amos seen that? No, he'd missed that one. Jeroboam said that there were photos of himself in there, and one of Amos – he'd pinched that one, it must be still in the car. Both boys grinned and blushed.

He knew that Amos had, for some reason, been sent to Elder Stephanas for correction and that he'd gone on retreat, so he stole a car and went to look for him. The Community always used the same lakeside resort town for their retreats, Engaddi, so that was where he went, but he found no trace of anyone there.

He figured that anyone living would probably head to Hebron, so he bought some food, (yes, he left money), and he'd came here looking for Amos. And here they all were!

“Indeed we are.” Esther stood up. “Unlikely survivors too, the three of us. It's time for bed. You can stay in here, Amos, but no talking! This Kid needs to sleep to recover, so you let him. If I hear any noise, I'll be back and I won't be happy!”

Whakahapa, 13

2011-04-12T14:22:00.000-07:00

He slumped forward at some time during the night because when he woke in the morning his bum was still on the chair and his head was on the bed. He hauled himself upright, stood and stretched, feeling stiff in every joint. What a dumb way to sleep!

Jeroboam was still sleeping, he didn't look like he'd moved all night. Amos didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

The lamp was out, as in not going, and the room ponged of kerosene. He hadn't turned it off so it must have run out of fuel some time in the night. They'd put up with the smell, opening windows might make the room too cold.

He sat down again to have another, closer, look at the boy he adored. It was so strange that, of all the people in the world, there seemed to be just Jeroboam, Esther and himself left and everyone else had gone. What made them so special? Did they have something that nobody else did?

He didn't know. Life always was a mystery, it seemed to be getting worse. Or, maybe it was getting better? Who knew?

What woke him up? He didn't know but he knew that something had. Then he did know, at at least he thought he did. Something changed in Jeroboam's breathing, some interuption to the regular pattern. His face was still still, but it twitched and twitched again like dreams were running below the placid surface.

He almost missed it because he was leaning forward studying the face, but then he couldn't miss it – Jeroboam's hands, his arms, on top of the duvets, began moving feverishly in small, jerky circular movements.

Amos grabbed his wrists and held them still but he pulled them away and the face frowned and tightened. He grabbed again and held them still. Jeroboam struggled, then stopped and then his legs started moving like he was running. Damm.

Asmos held both of the wrists in one hand and used the other, plus his right knee, to hold the legs still until he settled down again. He relaxed all of a sudden and went on sleeping, so Amos relaxed too. He let go, warily but safely and nothing else happened.

Everything was quiet and he almost dozed off again but snapped awake at a noise from the bed. Jeroboam moaned in his sleep and his head rolled from side to side. It looked like he was trying to speak.

“Oh, oh!” Asmos felt so helpless, he didn't know what to do. Esther! Esther would know; he needed her now.

He went out, across the hall and knocked on the closed door there. “Esther! Are you in there?”

“I'm here,” she groaned a reply. “What's wrong, Boy?”

“Jeroboam. I think he's waking up. He's making moaning noises and I don't know what to do!”

“Okay, I'm coming. Go back and sit with him.”

When she came stumbling in he was sitting by the bed holding both of Jeroboam's hands and trying to keep them still. She came over, felt his temperature, felt his pulse and pulled his eyes open to look at them. They stayed open, full of fear (?), staring at her.

“Okay, My Friend. I think the best we can do is to put you back to sleep for a while. Hold him still, Amos.”

She loaded a hypodermic, lifted it to test for air-bubbles, and then swabbed a vein on Jeroboam's inner forearm with antiseptic. She tossed the cotton-wool away and sunk the needle in. Amos looked the other way. He knew that it was a good thing that she was doing, but he couldn't watch. He almost felt the needle himself.

The patient sighed and relaxed back into a deep sleep. Whatever she gave him was powerful stuff. What did she give him? No, he didn't want to know. It worked, that's all that mattered.

“How long is he going to sleep now?”

“Don't know. Maybe 12 hours, maybe longer. It'll be a while anyway, so we can start sorting what we need to sort.”

“He's going to be starving! Could we fix-up one of those IVF things, to feed him that way? You know, with a bottle and a tube into his veins.”

“I don't think so!” she laughed. “Sorry, Boy, but that's funny. He's not a girl you know.”

“I know that, I've always known that.”

“IVF would do him no good at all then would it? It stands for 'In Vitro Fertilisation' – making babies by fertilising eggs with sperm outside of the body, and I think your church doesn't approve? It's a different thing anyway. What you're thinking of is an IV Drip – an intravenous drip.”

“Yeah, okay. Don't laugh at me. Couldn't we do that then?”

“I'd rather not. We'll try it if we have to, but I'd sooner avoid it if possible. An ordinary injection is one thing, a drip is a bit more complicated and I've never done it, have you?”

“I haven't, but he'll be hungry!”

“You're a typical, teenage, walking stomach. Amos, he's not going to starve. It's not even 12 hours since we found him. When he wakes, if he wakes, we'll give him some of this.”

She picked up a small bottle and read from the label. “An easily digested, high-energy, nutritionally complete, milk-shake style, food supplement for special medical purposes.”

“Eh?” he puzzled.

“It's food in a drink, a complete meal in a bottle. We'll get some of this into him and that's all he needs.”

“Are you sure it'd be enough?”

“It's enough. You could live on this stuff. It'd be a boring diet but you wouldn't need anything else.”

“Good then. Have we got plenty of it?”

“We've got a boxful and there's lots more at the hospital. There's no way we're going to run out.”

“Well good! That's really good.” He looked at Jeroboam and smiled. “But, I . . . I'm going to have a shower now. I haven't had one in ages and I must stink!”

“No, you don't stink, no worse than I do. Have we got water here?”

“There is. The taps are all running normally. There's no hot water though, just cold, so it will be a fast shower.”

“Cold water? Better than nothing, I guess. We'll see if we can't jack-up a water-heating system. Shouldn't be hard. Also, with a generator or two, we can have electricity in here.”

“That would be great! You're very clever, Esther.”

“Yeah, bloody brilliant, except when I'm crash landing. I don't know what you'd do without me.”

“Neither do I. I really don't and thank you for everything, especially thank you for taking care of Jeroboam.”

“Ah! Don't get soppy on me. We do what what we can – it was me who ran him over, remember?”

“It was an accident!”

They spent the day cleaning up and improving their bivouac, going out 'shopping' one at a time. Jeroboam just slept but he was never left alone.

Mid-afternoon, Esther came back in, said that she'd started a car out in the street, she would take that now to the hospital and exchange it for her ute. She'd be back in an hour or so and would Amos be okay here?

He hoped he would and told her to be sure to hurry back.

“I'll be back,” she sighed. “Don't trust me, do you? Do you trust any girls?”

“Of course I do. Your being a girl has got nothing to do with it, I'm just worried, that's all. He really, really needs you. If it was just me he'd probably die.”

“I see. Nothing to do with my being a girl then?”

“Of course not! My mother's name is Esther, did I tell you that?”

“I don't think you did. But I'm not your mother.”

“I know that. I used to rely on her too, when I was little. You are my friend, aren't you?”

“I guess so. I'm your friend, for now. Don't get too dependent on me because I'm still going to fly away one of these days. Once our patient is stabilised and recovering, I'll be gone.”

“But you said you're coming back. You are still going to come back, aren't you?”

“I am, if I can. Who knows what will happen? I might crash-land again.”

“Let's hope not. Elder Bethuel, he was our schoolmaster, he always said, 'Once is a learning experience, twice is an error and culpable'.”

“I'll try not to make an error then. I won't be going for a day or two yet. I'm going to the hospital now, for my ute. Don't you dare shoot at me when I come back.”

“I won't. I promise.”

She wasn't gone long but he worried anyway. Jeroboam kept sleeping, that was good, wasn't it? Amos sat by him, smoothing his hair and dabbing his face with a wet towel.

Outside, the weather was turning sour again. Gray/white clouds covered the sky and were reflected in the broken surface of the harbour. The wind was getting up, it was going to be a rough night. Good that they were safely indoors. Where was Esther?

Shouldn't she be back by now? It had been well over an hour, hadn't it?

She returned and she was so happy he forgot to growl like he was going to. She'd recovered her ute and been to a library and found some great, detailed, maps of the city and of the whole country too!

Soon she'd go to the airfield and select another microlight, but probably not until both boys could go with her. Also, she'd seen some more pigeons flying around. “Trust the bloody pigeons to survive.”

Amos was hereby appointed chief cook and bottle washer for tonight. She'd sit and study the maps while she was waiting for her meal to be served. Amos said, sure he'd cook and she should remember that he was not as good at it as she was. Esther shrugged and told him that he needed more practice then.

He cooked – spam, scrambled eggs and broccoli. An unlikely combination, but good enough. After eating they sat and talked. Esther had a glass of wine, Amos had fruit juice.

“I wish he'd wake up.” Amos looked at their sleeping patient.

“You sure about that? He might be hurting when he does.”

“Well, no I don't want that. But we could give him some more pain-killers.”

“And knock him out again? We'll see how he is when he wakes.”

“All things considered, he feels pretty good really,” said a quiet voice at the other side of the room.

Whakahapa, 12

2011-04-10T13:28:00.000-07:00

Esther got back into her ute, pulled away from the safety rail with a grinding of metal and a screech from the tyres and drove, at speed, away up the road into the city.

Amos sat and watched anxiously as she disappeared into the concrete jungle. She said that Hebron was her home, but it was such a big place, the biggest he'd ever seen. He hoped that she knew where to go, how to get there and back again without getting lost. He'd get lost in 5 minutes, how would she be? He didn't know, she didn't say.

There was a rug and a couple of duvets in his ute. He rummaged through all of the gear, found them and pulled them out. Jeroboam was lying on the concrete roadway, that couldn't be helped, he wasn't moving him to get something under him. He opened the covers and spread them over him.

A pillow, he needed a pillow. Anything would be better than concrete under his head. There was one in the ute somewhere, he thought, but he couldn't find it. The first car next to him had nothing in it. The next one had several small cushions along the back window. The doors were locked, so he smashed a side window to open a door and get the cushions.

Red blood, Jeroboam's life blood was trickling from his nose and running down the side of his face – his gorgeous face. His skin was a candlewaxy white, paler than he'd ever seen it, so pale that it made the blood look dark.

The eyes were closed now. When did that happen? Still breathing? Yes! (he checked).

“Oh, Damm, Jeroboam. You keep on breathing, don't you stop. Please don't stop. We'll help you, we can fix you. Esther, she's good at everything, she knows what she's doing. There'll be an ambulance here for you soon.

Fuckit, Jeroboam! What are you doing here? Why did you run out? Please don't die. I love you.”

Whoah! He'd never said that to him before. He'd always loved him but never dared telling him so. He didn't mean to now, it just slipped out because he was upset. But, it was true anyway. He loved him.

He gently, ever so carefully, lifted Jeroboam's head and slipped a cushion under it. There. Better.

Had the blood stopped, or was it still running from his nose? Who knew? Was he warm enough now? There might be rugs in some of the cars. No, what was on him would be plenty, he didn't want to cook him.

Amos got a bottle of water from the ute, saturated the corner of a hand-towel and gently, carefully, lovingly, washed the blood from his beautiful face. Even broken, Jeroboam was like an angel.

The flow of blood had stopped. So that was good, wasn't it? Yes, it had to be good. Where the hell was Esther? How far was that hospital anyway? She didn't say, he didn't know.

Everything depended on Esther now. What would he do if she didn't come back for some reason? He could build some sort of shelter out of bits and pieces. There was a tarpaulin in the ute, he could stretch that over top of him, like a tent. Then what? He didn't know.

Maybe he'd lie down and die next to him. But, Esther would be back, wouldn't she? She bloody better be! They needed her.

Still breathing? Yes. That was good.

“Breathe, Jeroboam. Rest and breathe. It's going to be all right, you're going to be fine. Esther will help us. What were you doing on the motorway? You dumb kid!

He sat holding his hand. It is not very warm, soft, limp and unresponsive. He bent and kissed it and tried, not very sucessfully, not to cry while he sat waiting – forever!

Clouds were sliding in from the sea, blotting out the sun and making the day darker. It wasn't going to rain, was it? He hoped not. That'd be the last thing they needed.

“Don't die. Please don't die,” he whispered, leaning down so close he could feel his breath on his cheek. He could kiss him, like he'd always dreamed of doing, but he would not – that'd be like taking advantage.

“Esther! Where the fuck are you??”

He looked up and got his answer – an ambulance was coming out of the city. Wouldn't it be great if she didn't see and ran over them? He got up, stood over the recumbent form, waved frantically and was greatly relieved when she answered with a flick of the headlights. It was going to be all right.

+++++++++++++++++

They installed Jeroboam in a second-floor room of the Academy Hotel. Amos didn't see why they didn't go to the hospital, but Esther said there was no point, they weren't doctors and there was no-one there. He wasn't arguing with her, as long as she was helping he'd go along with whatever she said.

At first they lit candles to light the room, but they didn't seem right so he got 3 kerosene lamps going. They made plenty of light.

Esther had brought some supplies from the hospital, so, along with what was in the ambulance, they had bandages, plasters, cotton wool and splints, a breathing mask and cylinders of oxygen, nitrous oxide and chloroform, penicillin, sleeping pills, morphine, valium, librium and hypodermics, anitseptics and more – like they had their own surgery or whatever.

They probably wouldn't use most of it, it was just nice to have it if they needed it. There was no heater for the room but, as long as they kept him well covered, the windows and door closed and the lamps going, the room would warm-up, hopefully.

They stripped Jeroboam naked, cutting his clothes off him. Amos would've found that very exciting and interesting at another time and place, but not now, he was too worried.

Odd really, he couldn't do it, so Esther felt all around the boy's body, his torso, neck and head and all of his limbs. The right leg was swollen and badly bruised below the knee, but as far as she could tell, there were no broken bones, probably.

“I think I hit him with a glancing blow but he hit the road pretty hard. I don't know, there could be internal injuries. Time will tell, I guess.”

“Could we take him to the hospital and xray him?”

“No. The less he's moved the better. Xray machines need electricity and people who know how to work them. That is not us. We wouldn't know how to read them either. No, we'll wait and see. I don't think his skull is broken, but he's had a good knock.”

“Is he? Will he? Esther, is he going to get better?”

“Sorry, Sweet. I wish I could say yes, but I really don't know.”

“Oh. Should he be sleeping all this time?”

“That's good, I think. The temperature is a bit high but his pulse is normal. I think he's resting and sleeping normally, and he probably needs to. While he's sleeping he's not hurting.

We'll wash his wounds with antiseptic, bandage him up and leave him alone.”

“We're not going to wake him?”

“We're not. He seems peaceful enough as he is.”

He didn't want to, but she insisted that he go down and unload his ute and bring all of his food and gear upstairs to set-up in the next room. (There were plenty of rooms to choose from). Esther sat and watched their patient while he did that, and then he sat and watched him while she went and cooked their evening meal – curry in a can with fries.

She took one of the lamps with her. She said that there was too much light in there for a sick-room and she needed it. Sitting there, thinking about that, he decided that she was probably right and he doused one of the other lamps as well. They didn't need a lot of light to watch Jeroboam sleeping.

There were a lot of rooms here, he'd go out and get some more lamps sometime. For now, all that he wanted to do was to sit and watch and wait for Jeroboam to wake up. He would wake up, wouldn't he? Yes, of course he would.

Funny, he didn't feel at all like praying for him. Anyway, if he did, Esther would probably tell him that it was a waste of time and effort and quote some bible passage to back her up. He sat quietly watching their patient; he'd happily sit there all night looking at him.

Esther brought their meals in and they sat and ate together.

“Good meal. Thanks, Esther.”

“You're welcome, but it was no big deal, just heat and eat.”

“Jeroboam's going to be starving when he wakes up. If he wakes up.”

“He'll wake up when he's ready. Of course he will. Stop worrying; worrying never did anybody any good.”

“Would praying for him do any good?”

“Amos! Shouldn't I be asking you that? If it makes you feel better, you go for it. I'm not telling you what to think.”

“Just what to do,” Amos nodded.

“Shut up!” she grinned. “We do what we have to. Now I'm going to bed. Don't sit here all night, you need your sleep too.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“Don't then. Make up a bed for yourself in here. I'll be across the hall, call me if you need me and don't burn the place down.”

“I'll try not to. Goodnight, Esther and thank you.”

“Thank me for what?”

“For looking after Jeroboam.”

“Well of course! G'night, Boy. I'll see you in the morning and I hope not before then.”

He was going to, honestly, he was – but he didn't. He dragged a mattress through from the next room, dumped the covers and pillows on top of it, and then he sat down again to watch Jeroboam.

He could sit there like that, close to him, forever and not be bored. He wasn't too hot was he? No. He felt his forehead, (again!), and he seemed to be okay. What would he know anyway? Not much, but he thought that he was all right. He hoped so.

He went to sleep sitting in the chair next to the bed.

Whakahapa, 11

2011-04-07T10:48:00.000-07:00

They sat and ate quietly until Amos had to make a quick dash to the bathroom down the hall. He felt like puking all the way, but managed to control himself. As there was no water and the toilets wouldn't flush, it was pretty disgusting in there when he'd finished – he'd use a different bathroom next time!

He came back into the room dragging the mattress that he'd been sleeping on. Esther looked up and frowned. “What ARE you doing?”

“Putting this back where we found it. We are going to clean up before we go, aren't we?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“It seems like the right thing to do. We're not paying for staying here.”

“We're not. Amos, it doesn't matter, it just doesn't matter. We're leaving and there's no-one else here. Quite possibly, no-one may ever come into this room, this hotel or this whole town, ever again. Leave it, it doesn't matter.”

“Well . . . Yeah, you're probably right. I'll leave a note anyway, just in case someone does come in here one day.”

“A note? What are you going to say? 'Sorry about the mess, have a nice day.'?”

“No,” he grinned. “Not that. I'll say that we stayed here and now we're going to Hebron.”

“Okay, can't do any harm I guess. Take care of that, we'll take what we're taking and load it in the vehicles, and then we'll hit the road.”

“Not literally, I hope.”

“Not literally, Silly!”

They took the gear down and loaded it in Esther's vehicle, because that was the emptier one. They started the engines, reversed, turned and started off out of town. He thought that she'd forgotten the painkillers, (which he really, really needed!), but she hadn't. She stopped and went into a chemist's shop on the way.

He stood outside, avoiding the direct sunshine and with his eyes resting closed, moving gently and breathing carefully. He was starting to feel better. Maybe. A bit. At this rate, by next week, he should feel fine.

Esther came out, carrying a bag full of stuff. She took a packet of pills from the top of the bag and tossed them to him. “Take a couple of those and you'll feel a lot better.”

“Thanks. I will.”

He recovered the packet from where it had fallen on the path behind him and, only shaking a little bit, ripped it open. The pills, encased in plastic bubbles, were brown, cylindrical and quite large.

“I, umm, I'll need a drink so I can swallow them.”

“You would. Well then,” Esther swung her wrecking bar and loudly shattered the glass door of the shop next door, “the Dairy is open. Help yourself to a drink.”

“Yeah. I will,” he tried to smile, carefully. He stepped through, yet another, broken door and crunched over the bits of glass.

If there was a day of reckoning coming up, there was an awful lot of stuff going to have to be paid for. But, he couldn't afford to worry about that and he did need a drink.

It was dark inside the shop after the glaring sunshine outside. His eyes soon adjusted and he found the drinks cabinet and selected the one he wanted. He took it back out to where Esther waited and put it on the outdoor picnic table while he extracted two pills from their bubbles.

“What sort of drink do you call that?” Esther picked up the bottle for a closer look. “This is blue!”

“Yes, sure it is. It is mineral water, fortified and flavoured. Blueberry, I think.”

“You think?”

“I do. I like it anyway.”

“Enjoy it then. I think it looks, and sounds, disgusting.”

“No it's not! It's just different, that's all.”

“Very different. Come on then, take a couple of your pills and we'll get going.”

“A couple? Way I feel, I might need to take the whole box!”

“You do not. The packet says the dosage is 2 pills, followed by another one in 4 hours and don't exceed the recommended dosage. Too much wouldn't help. It might even make you sicker.”

“Sicker? Yuck!”

“Don't do it then. Hurry up.”

He swallowed a couple of the log-like pills, washed them down with the mineral water, and then offered the bottle to Esther. “Do you want to try it?”

“I do not! Don't know about you, but where I come from we didn't share drink bottles. Keep your germs to yourself. And, it still looks disgusting.”

“It does not,” Amos grinned. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yes, it's about time. We'll have to move it if we're going to get there and find somewhere to hole-up before dark. I'll go first and you follow, but not too close. I might have to brake suddenly for a tree or something.”

“Okay, but how come you lead the way?”

“For a hundred reasons Let's just say that I can see better than you can right now.”

“Okay. Lay on MacDuff.”

They drove through the day, their twin vehicles ripping noise through the quiet countryside. At each small town they passed through, they stopped, sounded the vehicles' horns and looked around, but they saw no signs of life anywhere.

They stopped and ate lunch in a small riverside park in the centre of TAIHAPE (?). Bees buzzed in the flower gardens there. That was a welcome sight. Even more welcome were a couple of pigeons flying noisily overhead.

Well, Amos was delighted to see them. Esther smacked her lips in an exaggerated and comic fashion and said, “Yummy! Pigeon pie and honey. We won't go hungry.”

“Esther!” he protested. “Can't you just be glad to see something that is alive? There's plenty to eat without killing the last pigeons in the world.”

“I know that. Relax, I was just joking. We've already agreed that we're not going to starve and, yes, it's good to see them. Really good.”

“It is,” he smiled and nodded. “It's like – hope.”

“Yeah, if you like, it's hopeful. Signs of life.

They looked, but saw nothing else there apart from a couple of trout drifting lazily down the river. But that was nothing new, they already knew that the fish had survived. Amos was feeling much better by then. He swallowed another pill to feel better still.

There were more and more, bigger and bigger towns as they neared the capital city. They stopped stopping and just tooted and looked as they drove slowly through them all.

Finally, late afternoon, they were coming around the bay and could see Hebron in the distance ahead of them. Multiple railway lines, with electric overhead gantries, ran parallel to the left of the motorway with the sea beyond them. Green hills reared up on their right – bush-clad hills with thousands of, mostly white, little houses strung along them, all quiet in the afternoon sunshine.

Directly ahead, white/grey motorway ramps licked up into the center of the city, like frozen rivers, curving out of sight in the concrete jungle, shaded below the towering blocks of offices, banks and businesses. Ranks of windows reflected empty sky or other, blind windows. The Capital, Hebron. Their destination.

They stopped on the motorway, among some still and abandoned vehicles, (all with the seat-belts fastened!), stood and looked. The silence was huge.

“There it is,” Esher swept an all-encompassing gesture. “The pride of New Salem, Hebron, the Capital and the only real city we've got. Or, had, I suppose. Welcome to my hometown. Feeling better now, are you?”

“Much better, thanks. I'm still a bit tired, but the headache has gone and that's good.”

“That's always good. So you'll be ready for more bottles of wine tonight?”

“I don't think so! Not tonight and not any other nights either.”

“Yeah, right! I've heard that story before.”

“But it's true! Anyway, all I want to do is to lie down and sleep for a week.”

“Which you can, once we've found somewhere to sleep. I think an upmarket downtown hotel will do the trick.”

“Another hotel? Aren't we going to your home?”

“Not likely. It's not there anymore. The apartment block where I lived has burnt to the ground. Don't ask! We'll go the the Academy, that's about the newest and flashest pub that I know of. We'll live it up.”

“Up in a high-rise! But, not tonight. I just want to sleep and sleep.”

“Sure, but a bit of luxury will be nice. Follow me, it's getting late already. At least there's no rush-hour traffic to slow us down.”

Speeding into the city, sweeping too fast, along the empty motorway, Esther suddenly braked ahead of him, there was a heavy 'thud' and her ute skidded to a screeching stop in a wide curve and slammed into the safety rail, facing back where she'd been.

Amos stopped quickly, though not as fast as she had, and reversed back. Shaken, he leapt out to accuse her. “What in Salem are you doing?”

She stood and pointed. He turned and looked and a rag-doll figure lay sprawled in a twist on the far side of the road. One leg was splayed out awkwardly, the head facing up, eyes open and blood starting from various cuts and grazes.

It was a boy, a long-limbed youth lying there, tendrils of blond hair flicking around in the breeze off the sea. He was dressed in blue – light-blue, long-sleeved shirt, now twisted and torn, dark-blue trousers and tie with black shoes.

It was the uniform that Amos knew well, the same clothes that he wore, all day, every day, when he lived at home.

Esther bent over, retching, muttering and cursing to herself. “Oh God, No! Nothing I could do. He was just there, ran out – I couldn't. God, no! What've I done?”

“I, umm.” Amos looked backwards and forwards, feeling so useless. What could he do? “You, ah, you know what we've done.”

He turned from her and staggered across the road to where the figure lay. He approached and stared, shocked, at the blue eyes. It couldn't be, could it? It couldn't possibly be – but it was – Him!

“Jer . . . Jeroboam? Jeroboam!!!”

He dropped to his knees on the hard concrete roadway, which was just as well because the next thing that happened was that his eyes rolled up and he fainted.

He woke again when someone slapped his face – Esther, of course. She was red-faced and crying too as she bent over him. “Come on, Boy! Wake up! I need you here – wake up.”

“Esther?” He shook his head, then whipped around. “It is. Jeroboam!”

“You know this boy?”

“I love this boy.”

“This is the one that you got yourself into trouble over?”

“Yes! What's he doing here? Did we kill him?”

“I don't know what he's doing here and, no, we didn't kill him. Didn't do him any good, but he's not dead. I hit him, you had nothing to do with it. I hit him.”

“We were driving in convoy. If I wasn't there, you might've been going slower.”

“Or, I might've been going faster, who knows? Regardless, now we've got a mess to fix. Get some blankets, coats, sleeping bags, whatever you can find. Cover him up and keep him warm but don't move him yet. Smash your way into some of these cars if you have to, see what you can find.

I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll go to the Public Hospital and I'll get an ambulance.”

“An ambulance? What for?”

“What do you think for? Use your head, Boy! We can't leave him here and we can't move him in the utes, he might have broken bones. An ambulance will have all the gear we need, stretchers and straps, sedatives, pain-killers and stuff.'

“But he's already unconscious!”

“And that's good, I think.”

“Where are we going to take him to?”

“Don't know. Somewhere where we can clean him up and where he'll be comfortable. The hospital, maybe? I'll think about it while I'm gone. We'll sort something out.”

“Okay, thank you, Esther. I can't do it by myself, but we have to fix him, we just have to!”

“We'll try. Don't worry, we'll do what we can. Look after him and keep him warm, I'll be back soon.”

Whakahapa, 10

2011-04-05T13:56:00.000-07:00

“Okay! He was Jeroboam and he was wonderful. Really, really nice.”

“And?”

“Jeroboam was a boy, my age, in the community where we grew up. Ever since separating from our parents' family rooms we've slept in the same dormitory, but in separate cubicles of course.

We started school together on the same day and I think I loved him even then. No, I know that I did. I've always loved him, ever since I can remember. We were close friends when we were little, but grew apart as we grew older.

No, that's not right either. We didn't just grow apart, I pulled back and withdrew from him, and then he got more distant with me.”

“Why did you withdraw if you loved him?”

“It was because I loved him that I had to. I had to stay away, to not go near him and to have as little to do with him as I could – I just had to!”

“But why did you have to?”

“Because Jeroboam was a good boy. He was blond and beautiful and just very, very good. And pure. He was like an angel living amongst us. I yearned, I ached for him, but I couldn't do anything that might corrupt him, not to Jeroboam. He wouldn't want to anyway.

It was not a good love that I had for him. It was a bad love, a bad, evil, sinful love and he was so good. He'd be disgusted if he knew what I thought when I looked at him, so I stayed away – as much as I could. It was a small community and we all lived together.”

“What made him so special that it was him you loved and not somebody else? I presume there were other boys your age there.”

“There was, lots of them. I don't know why I fell in love with him, but I did. I couldn't help it, I guess I'm just evil.”

“You're not evil! You were IN love? There's a difference you know.”

“I know. I loved him when we were little and it grew as we grew and one day I knew that I was in love with him and I wanted to be with him like a man is with his wife, and that is so wrong!”

“Who says it's wrong?”

“Everybody. Well, they did. The prophets said it, the Bible said it and the Elders said it. It is wrong for a boy to love another boy, so it is a bad love. Bad, sinful and evil.”

“Damm!” She said. “Amos, that is pure and utter bullshit. There is no such thing as bad love; that's just some rubbish that your church has dreamed up. There is love and that is all. Love is all good and it can't be bad.”

“It can't? But . . . how can you say that?”

“Because it's true. Listen to this.” She closed her eyes and concentrated as she recited, “Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, endures all things. Love never fails.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “There is more, but that's enough. Heard that before?”

“Yes. It's in the Bible.”

“It is, that and more. Anything in there about bad love?”

“Well, no, not there.”

“Not anywhere. Dammit, Amos, there is no bad love.”

“Yes there is. What about lust and greed and coveting and stuff?”

“What about them? They're not love, they are lust and greeds and coveting. They're not patient and kind and all the rest of it. Amos do you believe that God made you?”

“Of course.”

“Of course. You think he made a mistake? God is love and love never fails – never! I'm getting tired of this. I'm the last person to be preaching at you. Love is good, full stop. You loved that boy. Did you want bad things to happen to him?”

“No, never!”

“Of course you didn't. You cut yourself off from him so you wouldn't lead him astray. That was a good thing to do – really stupid, but a good thing. You loved him and there's nothing wrong with that.”

“All right, thanks, Esther. Doesn't make any difference now anyway, does it?”

“Yes it does. What you've done, how you've lived, has helped form who you are and, despite what they might've told you, you're a good person.”

“Do you think so?”

“I know so.”

“The Elders didn't think that. They would have killed. . . they killed. . .”

He stopped in mid-sentence and sat staring at the floor in front of him, his mouth hanging open. Esther waited as long as she could, and then spoke up.

“Amos? What's wrong, Sweet?”

“They would,” he said, looking ahead and not at her. “He did. Elder Stephanas, he killed . . . ”

He sat still as a statue, looking down and thinking aloud. “They knew. They found out and he, Elder Stephanas, had the task . . . he was to correct and drive the evil out. It would not go and he, he beat and he beat. . . I fell into the stone fireplace. I struck my head. I died.

Esther, I died!!”

“You're not dead.”

“But I did. I remember. How can I have two different memories of the same correction? Am I insane?”

“No, you're not mad.”

“But how can I remember this and I remember that – waking in the motel in the resort town? How?”

“I – I, yi, yi . I don't know. You're here now. You must've dreamed about the other.”

“Did I? It seems so real.”

“It can't be real, you're here and not dead. It was a dream, it must've been a dream.”

“A dream?” He held a hand in front of his face and flexed and closed his fingers. “I am here. It must be a dream, a horrible nightmare. But it seems so real – I remember.”

“Yeah, well it was not real. You're just remembering a bad dream. The worst ones can seem like they're real.”

“You're right. You must be right, if I'm not mad.”

“You're not mad, Sweetie. You're just confused and that's understandable. The world we knew has gone and that's not easy to accept. I need a drink and I think that you need one too.”

She reached for one of the bottles and the plastic glasses in the Supermarket supplies. She poured out two glasses of the pinkish and bubbly wine. “Here,” she held a glass out to him. “Drink this. It will do you good. Well take it, Boy. I'm not feeding it to you!”

He took the glass and sat looking suspiciously at it. “What is in this?”

“There's nothing in it. It is the fruit of the vine – fermented grape juice - good wine. Drink it, it's good for you. It will settle you and help you get to sleep.”

“It will? But it is strong drink – alcohol.”

“It's just wine. Have you never had a glass?”

“I haven't. It is sinful to drink strong liquors.”

“Sinful to drink wine? Somebody should have told Jesus that. He drank wine and quite often too by the looks of things.”

“Did he?”

“He did. Drink it, Boy. Think of it as medicine – herbal medicine even.”

“I suppose it is, sort of herbal,” Amos grinned. He lifted the glass to his mouth, smelled it, tasted it, and then drank it all. “It's nice, very nice. I like it. The bubbles tickle my nose!”

“They'll do that; you get used to it.” She refilled his glass. “Have another one. Drink up, but slowly this time.”

He drained the glass again, looked at it and giggled. “You have to drink it down to drink it up. That's funny!”

“Yeah, bloody hysterical. We can't leave the bottle half full, it'll go flat. Do you want another?”

“Oh, yes! Thank you.”

They drank another glass, and then yet another, and then opened another bottle. And another.

Time passed as they sat and talked about this and that, nothing serious, and making vague plans for the next day. Esther could see him visibly relaxing, and that had to be good.

She matched him drink for drink but didn't think that she was enjoying it as much as he seemed to. His big, goofy grin faded when he couldn't shake any more out of the bottle.

“Empty! We've run out already,” he complained.

“We have and I think you've had enough, Boy.”

“Just one more. Pleeease! There's another bottle. And, I'm not a boy.”

“Oh, but you are. Okay, we'll have that bottle and then it's time for bed.”

“To bed! To sleep, counting sheep! I, I'm a poet you know it.
I write poems, I'll show you one day. They are very good.”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm sure they are.”

They finished the wine. Esther stood and shook her head as she watched him struggling to get up. He didn't look that bad when he was sitting down, as soon as he tried to stand his legs turned to rubber.

She took hold of his arms and hauled him to his feet. “Amos, you're drunk!”

“I, I, I'm not acksher – actual – not drunk. I'm just a bit pished.!”

“You certainly are. Just a bit. Come on, we'll get you to bed.”

He had to use the bathroom, of course, and she had to help him. That was not nice but served her right. She shouldn't have let him get drunk.

In the bedroom, he dived on to the mattress on the floor, and flaked. Esther knelt down, took his boots off and covered him up to sleep in his clothes. She got into her own bed, blew out the last candle and went to sleep.

If there were any noises in the night, they didn't hear them.

Esther woke in the morning and looked down at the boy sleeping, bum-up and face-down, on the mattress on the floor. A line of drool ran from his open mouth to the sheet below him.

'Oh Boy! You're not going to be a happy camper when you wake up.'

She slid out of bed and quietly left the room, softly closing the door behind her. First port of call was the bathroom, to empty her bladder, and then to the other room, for coffee to refill it. Her head was not too bad, she'd had worse. She'd had better too. Did those first-aid kits that they got have aspirins in them? She checked; they didn't. Damm.

It was going to be a good day outside. A good day for flying, if she had a microlight! There was no sign of an airfield around here, they were going to have to backtrack to Hebron, to the fields there, to get another plane.

While waiting for the water to boil, she got the inevitable Gideon's bible from the top drawer of the bedside cabinet and found the passage she was thinking of.

She was sitting savouring her first coffee of the day when a sorry sight came staggering in the door. Amos' clothes looked like they'd been slept in, which they had. His hair was all awry, his face a sickly white colour and his eyes were more closed than open.

“My head hurts! Oww.”

“Ah, you poor wee thing!” Esher actually felt, a bit, guilty for letting him get as drunk as he did, but she wasn't telling him that. “Get yourself a coffee.”

“I will. Have we got any painkillers?”

“Nope. Sorry. We should've got some yesterday, but didn't. We'll do that before we leave town.”

“We're still leaving today? Do we have to? I'm not well you know; I'm really sick and I feel awful.”

“It's just your first hangover, Boy. It won't kill you. Give it a couple of hours and you'll feel human again. Maybe next time you won't overindulge.”

“There won't be a next time! I am never going to drink that stuff again.”

“Yeah, yeah. That's what they all say, but you will.”

“I will not.”

“We'll see. Listen to this.” She picked up the book and read it to him. “Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has contentions? Who has babbling? Who has wounds without cause? Who has redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine; they that go to seek mixed wine.

Look not upon the wine when it is red, when it sparkles in the cup. At the last it bites like a serpent and stings like an adder . . . they have stricken me, you will say, and I was not sick; they have beaten me, and I didn't feel it; when will I wake up? I need another drink.”

“Is that really in the Bible?”

“Yep. In the Book of Proverbs.”

“Well they got that right! Would another drink help my head?”

“No, it wouldn't,” she laughed. “You'd just get drunk again. Drink your coffee.”

“Does coffee help?”

“Not really, but it will wake you up. I don't suppose you want fried eggs for breakfast?”

“I do not! I feel sick just thinking about it.”

“It'll get better.”

“Can't get much worse.”

“Oh but you could. I have, many times.”

“You have?”

“Yes, when I was young and stupid.”

“And now you're not so young.”

“And not so stupid too. You need some food in you. If not eggs, do you want to toast some more muffins?”

“That sounds better, thanks. I'll do that.”

“And I will let you do that. We'll eat, load up what we want to take with us, and then go to a chemists shop, for painkillers, before we leave town. Should be back in Hebron by tonight.”

Whakahapa, 9

2011-03-29T12:04:00.001-07:00

(Wasn't going to stop there - honest! But that's as far as I've got typed & i've got a new game to play.)

Amos sat up and looked around. Esther was still sleeping, the candle had burnt-out and daylight was coming through the window. He looked at his watch and it was a quarter to six. There were no cows to milk, it was much too early! He lay down again and went back to sleep.

Next time he woke, he was alone in the room. Esther had gone and he didn't hear her leave. She hadn't disappeared too, had she?

No, probably not. The covers on the bed were thrown to one side and he couldn't see any sign of her clothes and boots.

He stood and opened the drapes on the window. It was still grey and overcast out there, but at least it had stopped raining. For now. Good job too, it was rough weather last night. The street of shops and businesses out there was quiet and peaceful. It all looked nice and normal except for one thing – there were no people.

Ah. Not quite no people. There was one – Esther was out there, coming back towards the hotel with her arms full of something. He put his jacket on, slid his feet into the shoes, grabbed the gun and left the room. With barely a glance along the corridor, he ran down the stairs to the front door to meet Esther there. She might have locked herself out.

He needn't have worried, the front door was propped open with a chair. Once again, he was impressed with how capable Esther was. That didn't stop her being grumpy though.

She frowned and growled as she walked in the door. “So you're awake at last! I thought you were going to sleep all day. I've got some coffee and things for breakfast. Bring some water upstairs and we'll get it started.”

“Yes, of course. Good morning to you too.”

“Yeah, yeah. It'll be better when I've had my coffee. Come on and be quick about it.”

Breakfast was good, he was hungry and he really enjoyed it. They had muffins, toasted over the gas flame and covered with strawberry jam and mock cream. Good stuff! Esther moaned that the coffee was only 'instant', but he wasn't complaining. He didn't like perked coffee, it was much too strong for him.

Breakfast over, Esther stood, stretched and said, “Right then, time to go 'shopping'. We'll stock up on food for a decent meal or two. I could do with something stronger than your sugary 'pop' to drink and we'll get some torches, lamps and other gear.

Also, take my advice and get yourself some better, hardier clothes than that silly churchy uniform that you're wearing. You need some decent boots too, those shoes might be good for ballroom dancing, but not much else.”

“Are we going to stay another night here? I'd really rather not.”

“That so? Go if you want to, but I'll be staying here for a day or two. This is as good a place as any to stop, get supplies and work out a plan. I may have to drive back to Hebron, to the airfield there, to get another microlight.”

“You're going to carry on searching then?”

“Of course. There's a lot of country I haven't covered yet.”

“Oh. And you're still going alone?”

“I am.”

“Crap!” Amos expostulated and Esther looked at him, surprised.

She grinned, and then she laughed aloud. “There's hope for you yet, My Young Friend! I'm getting a microlight and I'm flying alone, but I will come back. Before I go, we'll find somewhere suitable to establish a base camp and you can spend the time sorting that out and collecting food, fuel and supplies.”

“Including guns?”

“Yes, if that's what you want, but you'd better not go shooting at me when I come back. I'll bloody kill you if you try that.”

“I won't. I wouldn't do that to you.”

“I know you wouldn't do it on purpose, but you're a bit of a Nervous Nellie and that worries me, a little.”

“You should carry a gun too, Esther.”

“So we can shoot each other? That'd be intelligent, wouldn't it?”

“No, but you should have something to protect yourself if you have to.”

“I'll think about it. Come with me. We'll check out at the back and see if we can find any clues about what you saw last night.”

On the way down to the kitchen, Amos said, “I like the idea of a base camp, that makes good sense to have somewhere secure to work from.”

“Of course it makes sense. That's why I thought of it.” Esther tried to growl but had to grin.

There was nothing out in the backyard and no signs that anything had been there in the night. A gateway-sized gap in the wall allowed anyone, or anything, to come and go as they pleased. Amos thought that, if they were staying there permanently, which they were not, a barricade across that gap would be the first thing he'd build.

Back through the hotel, they went out to the street at the front and Amos looked anxiously to his car. He was a bit worried that the car and all his treasures in it would've been interfered with during the night.

But, it hadn't. Everything was fine there, as far as he could see. Nothing was broken, the doors hadn't been wrenched open and the tyres weren't all flat. What did he think the Abomination was going to do – bite them? He had to stop his imagination getting carried away. Things were bad enough as they were.

Esther kept him busy all day, they didn't stop once – not even to eat! They went first to the local Council Offices, and then to the police station. Breaking into a police station was a strange thing to do; it just didn't seem right. Both places were a waste of time and they learned nothing from them.

However, there was a big map, on a billboard outside the Council Offices and that was a big help. They studied it to learn where to go around the town and how to get there.

They checked out the hospital. That was a waste of time too, there was nothing there. Well, nothing except for a dead body, some old lady lying, very dead in a bed. That was gross.

Then they went shopping. Amos thoroughly enjoyed that and he suspected that Esther did too even though she wouldn't admit it. First, from a car-sales yard, they got two, almost new, 4 wheel drive utes with twin cabs and fibre-glass canopies covering the decks at the rear.

Amos couldn't see why they needed a vehicle each, he'd prefer it if they travelled together, but Esther didn't agree. She said that if one of them broke down or got stuck somewhere, the other one would be able to pull them free. He, reluctantly, agreed and, anyway, they'd be able to carry twice as much food and stuff. So that was good.

Next, they broke into a menswear clothing store. Esther was happy with the clothes she had, but she did take a good Swandri for when the weather was not so good. Amos chose and dressed in a complete new outfit, hard-wearing warm and dry weatherproof clothes, including top-quality leather boots.

They took a good stock of food and seasonings from the Supermarket, tools and supplies from a Hardware Store and from a Sports and Recreation Superstore.

Back at the hotel, they took the food and lights upstairs. Esther came back down to get more water and cooking utensils, then she went back upstairs to start on their evening meal. Amos went out to the street at the front and restowed the food and gear from the car into his new vehicle.

The car had served him well, but he wasn't sorry to leave it. The ute was much better, bigger and more powerful. He finished his chore, picked up the gun and was about to head inside but stopped when he saw something.

There was a bug, a beetle of some sort, flattened and dead on the windscreen of Esther's vehicle. It might've been the last bug left in the world and she'd killed it!

He ran upstairs to tell her so, taking a perverse delight in what she'd done. She always made him feel so incomptent, but she wasn't perfect either.

Here reaction was disappointing, she didn't care. “Huh, so I killed a bug! So? If there was one, there'll probably be more. Their eggs might be hatching and it's bad news if they are. With no spiders or birds to eat them, they'll take over the world.”

“Oh. Maybe we should kill every bug we see then.”

“Maybe we should, but it wouldn't make much difference. Have you seen how many they hatch at a time? Hundreds!”

Amos sat and watched and learned while Esther cooked a meal for them. At least she wasn't growling so much this time. She couldn't really, anything that she didn't have was her fault, not his.

He had a bright idea and he took one of the containers down to the kitchen to fill it with water. He took his gun and a torch with him. That wasn't needed, it wasn't dark yet.

When Esther was done they sat on the floor and ate - chili con carne with rice and a coleslaw on the side. There was even desert to finish with – canned fruit salad and a banana flavoured instant pudding, topped with mock cream from the can. The pudding was made with powdered milk, not fresh, but you'd never know the difference. He learnt something there and that was good to know because he liked instant puddings.

He had water on heating while they were eating and Esther made two instant coffees as soon as it boiled. (His one was later quietly tipped down the hand-basin when she wasn't looking.)

She leaned back against the wall, smiled at him over her coffee and said, “Now then, Church Boy, tell me about your love life.”

“My love life?”

“Yes. What sexual experience have you had?”

“Oh, sex! Nothing really.”

“Nothing at all?”

“No. Except for my dreams.”

“Your dreams. So you have thought about it?”

“Oh, yes! All the time. I know that I shouldn't, but I do.”

“Of course you do, “ she smiled. “You're a teenage boy, young and healthy and your body has got needs that demand to be satisfied. It's perfectly natural, no matter what they tried to tell you, and you know it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Perfectly sure. You said something about liking boys?”

“Yes, I did. I do. That's not natural is it?”

“It is so! It might not be the norm, but it's perfectly natural for some people.”

“Really?”

“Really. Are you attracted to boys in general, or is it some special person?”

“Both.”

“Both?”

“Yes. I was attracted to lots of boys, but mostly one special one.”

“And who would that be?”

“It doesn't matter now, does it? He's gone, like everyone's gone.”

“Almost everyone. We are still here. Tell me about him, what made him special?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I'm a nosy old woman and I'm bored.”

“You want me to talk about my most personal stuff just because you're bored?”

“No, not at all. I was joking, kind of. I want to know because I want to know you, to understand you, if I can.”

“You'll be lucky! I don't understand me.”

“Hahaha!” Esther laughed aloud. “Okay, fair enough, but let's try. Tell me about your boy.”

“He's not my boy. I wished that he was, but he wasn't.”

“Amos!” She growled, exasperated. “You've got a real talent for avoiding the point. Who was he and what was he like?”