Kaimoana Tales, Dylan 2

The interlopers were due to invade on Thursday. That was cutting it a bit fine, Dylan thought. School was due to go back next week; wouldn’t the principal of the Primary school have things to sort-out before then? Ah well, not his problem and none of his business anyway.

His mother warned him that they wanted him there, they were going to need his help. It was going to be a busy day.

“Oh joy! What am I going to get out of this?”

“You get our everlasting gratitude. Come on, Dills. You’re a part of this family. Sometimes we all have to do things that we’d rather not.”

“Sometimes? Seems like most times it’s me.”

“Ah, you poor wee thing!”

“It’s all right for Dad. Why isn’t he going to be here to help?”

“You know very well. Your father will be at work, working hard to put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads.”

“And everyone else’s!”

“Not everyone, just family. They’d do the same for us. Paul is my brother. Would you refuse to help your brother if he needed it? Don’t answer that.”

She said, the night before, that they were catching the 10am ferry sailing from Wellington. They’d be in Picton by 1.30, so they should get to Kaimoana around 4 o’clock. Dylan immediately started making plans to be elsewhere around 4 o’clock, but his father said no, he was to be there and waiting for them.

He had work to go to himself, there was a contract that he couldn’t afford to lose, so Dylan had to be there to help his mother and the girls. (‘Hah! Like they’re going to be any help!’)

The furniture truck was arriving mid-morning and they would unload everything in the driveway in front of the garage. Dylan would help move the beds and anything obviously needed in the bedrooms inside, and get them set-up. After Paul and Sarah got there, they’d sort out what they needed and everything else was to be stored in the garage.

The cars would have to sit out in the car-port for the next few months. Dylan was glad, for once, that he didn’t have his own car yet – there’d be nowhere to keep it.

It was nearer to 5 than 4pm when they arrived. The car pulled up, out the front and the family all went out to welcome the new arrivals. Almost all the family; Dylan didn’t go out, he went to his room and lay on his bed with his guitar. He wasn’t going to welcome them, as far as he was concerned, they weren’t welcome there.

None of them were welcome, especially not the brat who was moving into his room. Dylan knew how annoying kids could be, he used to be one.

Actually, when he thought about it, there was exactly the same age difference between him and this kid as there was between him and his brother – 3 years. Dylan and Jude got along well-enough these days, but it wasn’t always like that, and it wasn’t the same. Jude was his brother and, while 16 is not too far away from 19, there’s a huge difference between 16 and 13. Thirteen was just a kid, a mere child. Sixteen was old enough to get married, with parental consent. Well it was!

Not that he was ever going to get married anyway; but he could.

Despite the head-phones, he could hear the excited voices outside his window. So, even though he didn’t want them to be there and wished that they weren’t, he had to sit up and have a look.

Yeah, that would be Paul. He could see the family resemblance; Paul looked like a male version of his sister, Dylan’s mother. They were both tall and thin with graying hair and long, serious faces.

Fancy having a school principal in the family! He was glad that he didn’t go to the Primary School anymore. Though, he supposed, it could be handy, if uncle liked him. The kids would give him a hard time though.

That was his Aunt Sarah. Oh yeah, he did remember her. She was small, much shorter than her husband, and very, very blonde. Her hair was almost white. She must’ve been quite a looker when she was a girl.

That was their girl, Emmy. She was, what, 15? She had the blonde hair too, and she was taller than her mother already. Emmy was a looker. She was gorgeous in fact – really beautiful, with her blonde hair, deeply tanned skin and lithesome young body. She was going to be a sensation in their small town where the boys had known all the local girls for so long that they were almost like sisters, kind-of.

Cousin or not, Dylan would be right into something like that, if he was into girls. He wasn’t into girls at all, except as friends. Dylan was gay. No-one knew that, but he was.

So, where was the boy? Did he take after the pretty mother as well? Or, was he more like their sober-sides father? Dylan stood up for a better view, but he couldn’t see the kid anywhere out there

Maybe they didn’t bring him? Maybe they’d left him behind in a boarding school, or something? That’d be wicked cool if they did. It would sort the living problem nicely and he wouldn’t be complaining. He hoped that they had.

He still wasn’t going out to welcome them. He lay back on his bed and fingered his guitar. He could wait and first impressions were important. If the kid was with them, he was going to start by laying down the rules so there’d be no doubt about whose room this was.

“Dills. Dills! They’re here. They’ve arrived.” Emma, his youngest sister, burst into the room.

“Yeah, Emma. I know that, thanks.”

“He’s in here, William.” She turned and looked behind her. “This is Dylan and this is your new room.”

‘Blast!’ Dylan lay back and looked up at the ceiling and not at the kid coming in to the room. “Okay,” he sighed. “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear. This is not your room, it’s my room. I’m letting you in here because I have to – no other reason.

Keep yourself, and all your stuff, on your side of the room and don’t, ever, cross over that line. Don’t touch anything that doesn’t belong to you and don’t talk to me. Understood?”

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands, sitting up as he did. He moved his hands away, opened his eyes and looked at the boy standing there. His eyes opened wider and his mouth dropped open. “Wow!”

The most amazing, the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen in his life, stood there looking around the room. This boy was beyond beautiful. He was absolutely perfect. Better than perfect! He was a dream come true. Amazing.

Okay. Maybe, obviously, he shouldn’t have been quite so fast in deciding that he didn’t want to know this boy.

He stood quietly looking around the room and he looked like a vision, the perfect picture of a beautiful boy. His trim little body was slight and slender. He was dressed in, sockless, red sneakers with black laces, tight-fitting black shorts and a baggy red t-shirt.

His visible, flawless, skin, legs, arms, neck and face, were all a deep, golden, rich-tan colour. His eyes were emerald green and his full lips a dark pink, almost red.

The most amazing thing about his appearance, apart from the perfect proportions and general cuteness, was that his bob of dark blond and golden hair was almost exactly the same colour as his skin. It was hard to tell at a glance where the one stopped and the other started.

He had a very clean look about him too. Presumably, his teeth would be white. Dylan couldn’t see that at the moment, the boy was not smiling. He wasn’t scowling either; his face was blank and expressionless, like a porcelain doll. Like a perfect porcelain boy-doll.

William’s own bed and dresser stood by the windowless wall in the otherwise-bare one third of the room which was divided off from the rest by the strip of masking tape across the carpet and up the far wall to the ceiling.

Dylan was feeling a bit guilty now. He’d been too fast to judge the boy, deciding that he didn’t like him before he’d even met him. Also, that wasn’t very welcoming was it? Also, he didn’t really need all the space that he’d partitioned off. The boy, William, would need some room to move.

“Umm. Yeah. Hi, William, I’m Dylan.”

William turned his gaze on him for an instant, still with no expression on his face. He turned around and walked out of the room.

“Bugger!”

Now Dylan was feeling bad. Should he go after him and tell him that it was okay, they could share the room? No! To hell with him. Embarrassment gave way to anger.

‘Who does he think he is anyway? I’m not crawling to him. It is my room and I make the rules. He’s just a kid and I’m the almost-adult here. He can come back and then we’ll sort it out. And, wow, he’s gorgeous! I never expected that. Why didn’t someone tell me?

He lay on his bed, playing his unplugged guitar, but not thinking about it. He was just going through the motions while his mind was on other things. What he was mostly thinking was, ‘Wow.’

William was his cousin, he was only 13, and he was the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen, the most beautiful boy in the world, and he’d driven him away. Bugger.

He was really going to have to fix this, but how? Okay, he could live with him in his room. The boy was a joy to behold, but he still needed to keep the upper hand here, it was his room and he was the oldest.

So, he waited, but the kid didn’t come back. He’d have to eventually, wouldn’t he? Yes, of course he would. This was where his bed was.


Grace came calling him. “Dylan, you have to come for dinner. There’s a barbecue in the back-yard and you have to come right now.”

“Okay, Grace. I’m coming.”

He got up, checked himself in the mirror, flicked a brush over his hair, and then went through to the back-yard. Everyone was out there. They were all his family, he guessed.

“Dylan! There you are, at last. Boy! You’ve got tall.” His Aunt Sarah stood up with a smile. “Come down here and give your old aunty a kiss.”

“Aww!” he blushed. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, of course you do. It’s how we embarrass you – it’s in the aunties’ handbook.”

“Oh, all right then.” He bent and did what he was told, with a red-faced grin.

“Good boy, thank you. It’s lovely to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too, Aunty. Really nice.”

“Of course it is! That’s your Uncle Paul there, flipping burgers.”

“Hey, Uncle.”

“Hi, Dylan. I see that I’m not the tallest in the family anymore.”

“I guess not.”

“That’s Emmy there, with your sisters,” Sarah continued. “She’s 15 and she’ll be in your class at school.”

“No she won’t. I’m 16 and I’m in year 12.”

“So am I,” said Emmy. “They put me up a year. Hey, Dylan.”

“Hey, Emmy. You’re a brain-box then?”

“Well, sort of. Not as much as Wills though and they haven’t put him up – he wouldn’t go.”

“Where is Wills?” his mother looked around. “He was here a minute ago.”

“He’ll be back,” said Paul. “Come and help yourself here, Dylan. I don’t know how much you eat. Quite a lot by the look of you.”

“You’ve got no idea,” Dylan’s mother said. “Dills has got hollow legs.”

“Dills?” Emmy grinned.

“Yes, Dills. It’s our family name for Dylan.”

“Oh, that’s too much! We call William, Wills. Wills and Dills,” Emmy laughed.

“Shush, Emmy. You’re embarrassing him,” Sarah smiled. “That’s my job, not yours.”

Dylan filled his plate, not too much, and sat in the shade to eat it. The spotlight went off him when his father arrived home from work and they all greeted him.

Emmy came over and sat next to him. She didn’t know where William had gone, and didn’t want to talk about him anyway. What was the school like? He decided that he liked this cousin and they chatted comfortably.

William came back and met his Uncle Tony. Dylan felt jealous as he watched his father and his cousin talking, laughing and joking. They looked like they were getting on well.

He didn’t stay long. They’d finished eating so William and the young girls, Grace and Little Emma, went off for a walk somewhere. They were probably going to show him the neighbourhood.

‘Oh well,” Dylan thought. ‘They’re all just kids anyway.”

Unfortunately, he was not treated as a kid – more like a workhorse. While his mother and Emmy cleaned up the dishes, the men, Sarah and Dylan all got busy moving everything out of the driveway.

Sarah directed operations and the others carried some things inside and stacked the rest in the garage. Once that was finished, they sat around having a beer. Dylan didn’t want one. He’d seen the mess that Jude got himself into and he wasn’t interested. He’d rather have coke. Emmy had a beer.

Dylan went inside and had a shower. He had to use the main bathroom now. He normally used Jude’s en suite, but that was Paul and Sarah’s now. He went to his room and lay on his bed, waiting for William, but the kid didn’t come back. He waited and waited, but he didn’t show.

Dylan drifted off to sleep. He woke during the night; it was 2am, the light was still on and William wasn’t there. He got up and went to the toilet. The house was all quiet and dark, no-one around at all.

On the way back, he looked into the living-room. Maybe William was sleeping on the couch in there? He wasn’t. So, where would he be? Sleeping with Mummy and Daddy?

He went back to his room, turned off the light, climbed into bed and went back to sleep.

When he woke, next morning, the other bed was still made-up and empty. He got up, dressed and went to the kitchen for breakfast. William was there, already eating with the girls.

“Morning everybody. Hey William.”

He ignored him.

When Dylan sat down with his cereal, William quietly got up and left the room. How long was he going to keep this up?

A long time, apparently. William was around for most of the morning, laughing and talking to everybody. Everybody except Dylan that is, he ignored him.

Dylan tried talking to him a couple of times, but got no response at all, so he gave up. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need him anyway, he had friends.

Later in the morning, he left and went to see what Brodie was doing. Brodie’s mum was always good for lunch, he often ate there.

He drifted around town for the rest of the day, caught up with a few people, ate dinner at Fern’s place, and then they went to Joyce’s to watch some DVD’s.

It was nearly midnight when he got back home. The house was all in darkness. The drapes were still open in his room. He peered closely at the other bed, and then switched the light on. William was not there again.

Where would he be? There were no spare rooms and his bed was in here. Dylan sighed, closed the drapes, turned out the light and went to bed.

When he came out in the morning, his Aunt Sarah was alone in the kitchen, drinking coffee and doing the crossword in the morning paper. “Good morning, Handsome,” she smiled. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. He helped himself to coffee and sat across from her at the table.

“Well, you’re a box of birds in the morning, aren’t you? How are you coping with William sleeping in your room?”

“Umm. Aunt Sarah, I think there’s something that you should know. He hasn’t been sleeping in my room.”

“He what? But. . . Where’s he sleeping then?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t slept in there at all.”

“What’s going on, Dylan? Have you boys been fighting?”

“No. yes. No. I don’t know. William hasn’t spoken a word to me since you’ve been here. It’s my fault, I know that. I wasn’t very nice to him.

When he walked into my room, our room, I told him that he was not welcome there, and he was to stay over on his side, keep his mouth shut and not touch my things. I was wrong, and I feel really bad about it.

I’ve tried to apologise, but he won’t listen. He won’t even look at me and, as far as I know, he hasn’t been back in the room. Can you talk to him? Tell him that I was wrong and I’m sorry? He is welcome and I can share the room with him.”

“Oh William!” she sighed. “He can be a stubborn little swine. Thank you, Dylan, and, yes, I certainly will be talking to him.”

“He won’t be in trouble will he? That’s not what I wanted, I’m just worried about him.”

“Well don’t stop worrying yet! I’ll deal with him. Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. Probably with the girls, out the back.”

“Right then. Leave it with me.” Sarah went out to the back to find her son.

Dylan gulped his coffee down, and then he made himself scarce for the day. It wasn’t that he was scared of the kid or anything, he just thought that it might be easier on him if he wasn’t around while they sorted things. After all, he was a teenager and no teenager likes being embarrassed in front of his peers.

He spent the day hanging around with friends. Emmy walked past when they were down on the Esplanade, she had a couple of girls with her and greeted him in passing.

‘Wow. Didn’t take Emmy long to make some mates. I wonder if William will be as quick to make some too?’

He returned home in the late afternoon and went into his room. William was there, lying on his own bed and reading a book. He didn’t look up when Dylan came in.

“Great! You’re here. Sorry if I got you in strife with your mum, I was worried about you. Sorry, too, for the way I greeted you when you first got here. That was wrong. Can we start again?”

William silently rolled over and lay with his back to him.

“Okay, so we can’t. I am sorry, William and I’m ready to be friends whenever you are.”

Kaimoana Tales, Dylan 1

“WHAT?? No way! Uh-uh. Think of something else because I am NOT doing it.”

“Oh, but you are. We all have to make sacrifices, Dylan, and it won’t be forever, 3 or 4 months at the most.”

“I’m not, Mum, and that’s all there is to it. 4 Months! That’s, like 120 and something nights with a snot-nosed kid in my room. Not happening.”

“It is happening. You’re sharing your room with your cousin, and that is all there is to it.”

“Why me? Why can’t he go and sleep in Jude’s room?”

“You know why. Your Uncle Paul and Aunt Sarah are having Jude’s room. Emmy is going in with the girls and William is sleeping with you.”

“Eww! He is not.”

“Shut up, Dylan. You know what I mean. He’ll have his own bed but it’ll be in your room. There’s plenty of room for 2 in there.”

“I don’t want a bloody kid in my room, getting into all my stuff. If he touches my guitar, he’s dead.”

“Why would he even want to? William’s a bright boy, but I don’t think he’s into music. Certainly not into your sort of music.”

“Good job too!”

“Anyway, he’s not a kid. He’s a teenager, just like you are.”

“Oh, come on. He’s nothing like me. I’m 16 and he’s just 13, there’s a world of difference. He’s just a kid. Why do they have to come here at all? There must be somewhere else they could go. They could rent a house, couldn’t they?”

“No they couldn’t. We’ve looked and there’s nothing available; nothing reasonable anyway, just holiday homes rented out to the tourists and they’re far too much. They cost more than motels.”

“They could stay in a motel then.”

“For 3 or 4 months? Get real; they’re not made of money.”

“Why don’t they go to the motor-camp? Cabins there are pretty cheap, aren’t they?”

“They’re cheap because they’re basic. I’m not having my brother and his family living in the motor-camp for months on end. What would people think? Paul’s the new principal of the school here.”

“Of the Primary School.”

“Okay, Principal of the Primary school. It’s not their fault that their new house burnt down. They’ve already sold their place in Wellington and Paul has to come here to take up his new job.

Your father and I have discussed this and we’ve decided. Paul, Sarah, Emmy and William will live here with us while their new house is being built. It won’t be that long. They’re family and we have to stand by them in their hour of need. I’m sure that everyone will get along just fine. Your sisters are excited about it and looking forward to sharing with their cousin.”

“Good for them. I’m not. I don’t even know the kid, why do I have to share a room with him?”

“Because we said so. We give you a lot of leeway, but as long as you’re living under our roof, we make the rules. Give him a chance, maybe you’ll like him. It’s a good opportunity for you to get to know your cousin.”

“I don’t want to know my cousin. What would I have in common with a 13 year old?”

“You’ve got grandparents in common and who knows what else? You’ll soon find out, they’ll be here before the weekend.”

“Oh, joy!”

“Suck it up, Dylan. That’s life. Now, instead of standing around here, grizzling and moaning, you could make yourself useful. Jude’s room needs to be stripped bare. Everything in there has to be packed-up and stored in the back of the garage.”

“Where’s Jude going to sleep when he comes home, in the garage?”

“No, he could sleep on the couch in the living-room. He’s not planning on coming home until the end of the year in any case. He’s got a part-time job and he’s going on a ski-trip in May, with his flatmates.”

“Ski-ing? It’s all right for some people.”

“Your turn will come. A couple more years and you’ll be away at ‘varsity too.”

“If I go.”

“Oh, you’ll be going. Don’t go planning on anything else. Now, we’ve got work to do. Dylan? Dylan James, where do you think you’re going?

“I’m going out. Out for a walk. I’ll see you later, Mum.”

“Oh no you won’t! You can’t leave me with all of this, I need your help. I can’t do it all on my own.”

“Well, all right,” he grumbled. “What do you want me to do?”

“I’ll make a start on clearing out your brother’s room. You could start with yours – tidy it up and make room for another bed to go in there. He’ll probably have some other bits and pieces of furniture too, so make plenty of space. Anything you’re not using can go out and be stored in the back of the garage, that should help.

Once you’ve done that, come and help me move all of Jude’s gear to the garage as well.”

Dylan went, scowling to his room. He was not happy. This all sounded like a lot of work and for what? So some little twerp could come in here and invade his space! He’d never shared a room with anyone and he didn’t want to start now.

He was 16, dammit! He needed some privacy. He couldn’t stretch out on his bed for a leisurely wank with the kid right there in his room, could he? He could not! And, not sitting in front of the computer either.

Dammit again. That was something else; he’d better clean his computer out too. He didn’t want anyone finding out about the stuff he had in there. A bloody kid in his room was likely to get into everything!

This boy might be his cousin, but he didn’t even know him. He couldn’t remember ever meeting him, but he hated him already. Well, if he was going to have to share a room with him, there were going to be some hard and fast rules. He was the oldest and it was his room, he would make the rules.

As he worked, Dylan was fuming and resenting every inch of his space that he had to give up. He hoped the cops caught whoever it was that burnt his relative’s house down; he’d like to have a talk to them too. He wouldn’t, of course, but he’d like to tell them how what they’d done had ruined his life.

He was different, Dylan. He had dark hair, worn long but close to his head. A floppy fringe hung in his brown eyes and, from the back, it looked like a big comma on his shoulders. His hair was naturally dark-brown, but he put a rinse through it so it was more purple than brown.

He was tall, very tall. Just a shade under 2 meters actually, or 6 feet 5 inches. (Funny how people’s heights and birth-weights are still expressed in the old imperial measurements and not metric. Tradition? Or, maybe it’s just more natural.)

What did he weigh? Not a lot. He was as skinny as a rake. His legs were like pea-sticks, but he did have big, long and muscular arms and a broad chest. His biceps were as big around as his thighs were; probably from weight-lifting.

He was only 16 years old, he was going to be a big man when he filled out. He was already much taller than his parents and his brother, Jude, and he was 19. When not at school Dylan wore bright, radical clothes; he liked to be noticed.

The great love of his life was music. He played a guitar, not very well but he was getting better with practice. His singing was worse that his namesake’s. The guitar was also useful for keeping the world at a distance. His parents, his brother and sisters, Grace and Emma, all couldn’t stand his head-banging music and they stayed well away. He usually played in his room with the speakers off and his headphones on, his mother insisted on that.

He had 6 studs in each ear and would dearly love to get a lip-ring or two, but wasn’t allowed. His father drew the line at that and said there’d be no more piercings while Dylan still lived under his roof. And no tattoos either!

The family had only lived there for 3 years. They came from Tauranga to Kaimoana, (Sheesh!), because his father had a rural contracting business, operating diggers, trucks and a big hole-drilling machine.

Dylan was no longer a newbie in the town, he had friends and he’d made his place. Would having his snot-nosed cousin living in his room affect that? No, probably not as long as he had nothing to do with him outside of the house. He was having nothing to do with him in the house either – he didn’t want to know him.

Kaimoana Tales, William 4

The next day was more of the same – meetings all day long. They had their photos taken a hundred times. Everyone ate lunch at the conference table this time. William barely had time to say hello to Cody and the other boy, all day long. Their longest convo was when they said goodbye and see you next time, before they all left for home.

Joyce came over to say goodbye and said that she’d try to have the final script to them by the end of the week.

“If we can get Joe off his lazy butt, that is. I’ll keep on his case and try to get it to you by Friday. You’ll need to learn the script by heart, William. It doesn’t have to be word-perfect, but the nearer the better.”

“Oh, it’ll be word-perfect,” Paul nodded his rather sore head. “Wills doesn’t do anything by halves, do you, Son?”

“Whatsoever thy right hand findeth to do, do it with all thy might,” William replied.

“Where on earth did you get that from?”

“Sheesh, Dad! It’s in the bible. You should know that; you’re the teacher.”

“You think? I don’t know everything you know and we don’t teach the bible in school, it’s not allowed.”

“Well it should be. Some of the greatest literature and poetry is in there. I’m going to say goodbye to Cody. I’ll be back.”

“You have an interesting boy,” Joyce smiled as she watched him hurry away.

“He’s interesting all right, but you should try living with him!”

“I’ll just stick with my cats, I think. They don’t quote the bible at me.”

“Want to swap”

“No.”

Bruce took them to the airport, at 6pm, and they flew back to Wellington. Sarah and Emmy met them there and they drove home to Island Bay. The girls wanted to know all about their weekend, but Paul and William didn’t want to talk. They were both dead-beat, so they’d have to wait.

“I want to go to my own bed and sleep for a week!” William wailed.

“I don’t think so. You’ve got school tomorrow. You both have. That’s what you get for partying all weekend.”

“We have not! Well, maybe Dad has, but I’ve been working. There’s a lot more to making a movie than you think.”

“Partying, Paul?”

“No, not really, but there were free drinks just sitting there under our nose all day. Next time, I’ll take water.”

“That might be wise.”

William had to go back to Auckland for another weekend, 3 weeks later, for costume fittings, more meetings and some screen tests. Sarah went with him that time. Paul couldn’t go; he was on a senior-class trip in the Marlborough sounds. Emmy was on the school-trip.

William didn’t mind at all. Not that his father was that bad, but, at least with his mother there they’d be in separate rooms, so he might get some sleep this time. He didn’t though.

Cody and his pervy cousin were there as well. The cousin hooked-up with one of the crew members, with Bruce actually, so he was only too pleased to say that Cody could go and sleep in William’s room. They could spend some time bonding together, that was important too.

Sarah really should have known better. She was so busy watching the adults that she didn’t even think about what 2 boys could get up to together. Also, she thought that Cody was the same age as William. He wasn’t, he was 2 years older and much more experienced in the ways of the world.

William had already been doing research on the internet. The computer was in his parents’ bedroom, but they didn’t get home for hours after he did and he was very good at covering his tracks. He was, unbeknown to them, accessing horror-movie clips when he was only 6 years old

He didn’t do that anymore, he hadn’t for years, but now there was a whole new world to investigate. So, now he had the chance to find out what it was really like.

Cody wanted to come and sleep in his room? Did he want him to? Hell yes! He was delighted. He waited while Cody got his bag, and then they went to his room.

There were 2 beds in there. They were singles, but they were big ones. They stood inside the door looking at them.

William felt like Cody was his guest there, so he asked, “Which bed do you want?”

“Which one are you sleeping in,” Cody replied with a grin.

“Well, the one under the window.”

“Under the window? Yeah, you do that.”

“And you’ll have the other one.”

“No. I’m sleeping under the window.”

“But, you said I could.”

“Yeah, we both can.”

“Both of us in the same bed? But . . . yeah, okay!”

The Friday-night progress meeting seemed to go on forever, but at last it was finished. Sarah asked the boys if they wanted to come down to the hotel restaurant for a bite of supper. But, no thanks, they weren’t hungry (?!) Cody said that he was tired and he just wanted to get to bed. They said goodnight and hurried off to their room.

William shut and locked the door, and then turned to face Cody. “You’re not really tired, are you?”

“No way! You? Cool. Let’s go to bed.”

Cody stripped naked and he slid into the bed. William usually slept in pajamas, but if Cody could sleep without them, then so could he; so he followed his example.

He found out more that night about sex and what boys could do together than he’d learnt from weeks on the internet. Cody showed him things that he’d never, ever, forget. It was great fun. He didn’t get a lot of sleep that night and they both had trouble sitting comfortably next day and again on Sunday.

They flew home on Sunday afternoon. William collapsed into bed as soon as they got there and didn’t emerge again until Monday morning, not even to eat! He was ravenous at breakfast time on Monday though.

The filming began in the May school holidays with outdoor location shots in a suburb in Dunedin. Like Wellington didn’t have any hills?

After 3 days there, they flew home to Wellington for one night, and then back to Auckland the following morning. They were there for a week and a half and William felt like an experienced actor by the time they’d finished. Maybe he should get some trendy movie-star glasses?

Mostly though, when they were on set and not spending endless hours doing nothing, he felt like he was a puppet – a puppet controlled by voice commands. That’d be pretty cool, really, if he was the one giving the orders, but he wasn’t.

The best thing about the time in Auckland was that, this time, they were staying in a motel, so William had a room to himself. When he wasn’t entertaining Cody that is, (or being entertained by him). Cody and his cousin had a unit in the same motel, but Rangi was out a lot at night, partying. Which was good.

Stephen was only there for a couple of days and Cody was gone by the end of the week William was sorry to say goodbye to both of them, but mostly to Cody. He was going to miss him and the things they’d done together.

There were no other kids around at all then, William was the only one. There were a couple of guys there who, he thought, would like to be friends, but no – they were years older than he was.

It was odd going home on the Saturday and back to school on Monday. Life went on like it always had, nothing had changed. Almost nothing – William had changed.

They spent several more weekends in Auckland, and a couple of schooldays too, which was good. Over half of the August/September holidays were spent filming as well. The whole family came with him that time and they had a holiday in Auckland city. William didn’t get much of a holiday, he was working most of the time.

It made a change for him to be working while his parents were skiving off, he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. Cody came to see him once, but they didn’t get to spend any time alone together.

Also, Cody’s news was not good. He was out of work, his TV series had been canned, and things were not good in his home. His father was in jail for assaulting his mother and her brother. She had taken to drinking, far too much, and Cody didn’t know what was going to happen. If it got too bad, he was likely to finish-up in welfare care.

He did have a large family, but most of them were in a mess as well and he didn’t know if they’d want him anyway.

William felt for him, but there was nothing he could do, he was just a kid. He asked his father if they could take Cody to live with them, but got nowhere.

“No, Wills. I’m sorry, but we’re just not in a position where we could take-on another kid, especially one from a troubled background like Cody’s. We’re not related and we don’t have a Foster Care licence, so it can’t happen. There are professionals trained to deal with cases like this, not us.”

William did try, but got nowhere. His parents were immovable and it couldn’t be done.

The filming was finished. They went home and tried to forget all about it. The editing and processing would go on for months, but William’s part in the project was over.

They had one more trip to Auckland, for the low-key premiere at a film festival. Stephen was there, but Cody didn’t show. William had no idea how to get hold of him.

In the following months, the movie did quite well at film festivals all over the world. It was nominated, several times, for awards, but didn’t win any. It did come runner-up at one major festival though. It never made it into mainstream cinemas; no-one really expected it to.

Most of the money that William had been paid was salted away in bank accounts for his future education. All that he got out of it was some new clothes, (red and black of course), an X-box and a very cool new two-wheeled skate-board. Nothing else, apart from the experience and the education he’d received. (He’d learnt more things than his parents dreamed of too!)

Life went on the same as it always had. They received a DVD of the movie. William never watched it, he’d seen it before and he was sick of the whole thing. Emmy watched it, constantly, for weeks, but eventually, even she tired of it. The DVD sat and gathered dust in the cabinet along with all the others.

He never did do any more acting, that life was not for him. But he did some modelling work, for a while. He was a very good-looking boy so they made use of that. He soon got bored with the modeling too and he never saw any of the earnings from that, the money disappeared into the bank accounts.

After the movie came out, Mrs. Crase arranged for it to be shown at school, she wanted everyone to know what being in her drama-club could do. The kids all thought it was great and William had more friends than he’d ever had before, he was way popular from then on.

He looked, but never found anyone who would play the games that Cody had with him. They were all just kids. The one time that he made a fumbling approach to an older boy, he didn’t want to play and William got a bloody nose for his trouble. He resigned himself to being alone in the bedroom, but, even so, he’d learnt stuff that he didn’t know before.

A couple of years went by. Things were good and not so good. Sarah suffered a nervous breakdown and she was away, in residential care, for months. Paul, Emmy and William coped with things at home, but it wasn’t the same without the mother there.

Sarah never did return to full-time work, she cut back to part-time, mostly in social research and some consultancy work.

Emmy was in Highschool; William’s primary years were almost over and he was due to follow her there the following year, when Paul came home with big news. He had a new job, as principal of a primary school, his first ever principal’s appointment. Sarah was delighted for him, they all were, and she readily agreed to the move.

“As long as I can get on a computer and to an airport, I can work from anywhere in the country.”

They also agreed that life in a small town, for a couple of years, would be good for the kids. The kids were not so sure; they’d never known anything but city-life. But they had no choice anyway.

So, the end of the year came, their house was sold and a not-quite-finished new house purchased in their new town. The builders assured them that it would be all finished and ready for them by the end of January.

Emmy finished the year at her school. Paul and William both left Harwood Primary on the same day, and the whole family went up to Tauranga to spend Christmas with Sarah’s parents.

Then, they hired a motor-home and holidayed around the North Island, they lived on the beaches for a month. It was fun, for a while, but it was cramped in the van and they’d all be glad to get their own rooms back, especially William. He was a teenager now and he needed some privacy and his own space.

Back in Wellington, they returned the motor-home to the hire firm, and went to collect their car from where it had been left, at Mrs. Ritchie’s. That is where they heard the news.

In an unexplained fire, possibly arson, their new house had been burnt to the ground. Luckily, their furniture and possessions were still in storage and the house was well insured, but they had nowhere to live!

Kaimoana Tales, William 3

It was a week before they heard back from the film company people. The news, when it finally arrived, was a great relief to everybody.

William said, over and over, that he didn’t care. He knew that he wouldn’t get the part and he didn’t care anyway. That didn’t stop him from asking if they’d heard anything though – every hour of the day.

His parents didn’t want to be too discouraging, but they didn’t want him getting his hopes up too much either. He was going to be crushed if he missed out. Even his sister, who adored her little brother and was always very patient with him, was tired of the drama. William was not easy to live with.

“I’m not sure if he’s an actor, but if it’s a drama-queen they want, he’ll have it for sure.”

Paul was delighted to see the much-awaited email finally arrive. He opened and scanned it, and then called William in to read it for himself. William wanted him to just tell him – was it yes or no? But Paul refused.

“No, Son. You started this and you can finish it. Read the email.”

He stood and stared at the monitor, nervous for a start, until a huge grin spread across his face and he screamed. “YES!!! I got it. I got it. I bloody got it! Choice!”

He rushed out to tell his mother and Emmy. They already knew, they’d heard the scream. He was walking on air for days afterwards. That still didn’t make him easy to live with.

Joyce Skelton, the Executive Producer’s Assistant, arrived on the Thursday and came to speak with them all.

“Congratulations, William. I’m delighted for you and I’m sure you’ll do well. Actually, I think that it may have been my vote that tipped the balance. Joe, the script-writer, was adamant that he wanted a Maori boy. The lead character’s name was Hemi, which is Maori for George. I told him to change the blessed name then! So, he did. The second boy will be Hemi and the lead will be William.”

“Yeah! It will. Thanks, Ms. Skelton, but what’s the boy called?

“I told you. You will be the leading boy and his name is William.”

“I am William. Oh, I see! Choice. I should be able to remember that then.”

“I’m sure you will. There’s no point in making up a new name for you, you already fit the one you’ve got.”

Joyce stayed a couple of hours, talking arrangements. Everybody signed the contracts, including William, but that was just for show. He was only 10 so he wasn’t legally responsible for anything he signed. They had to call Mrs. Ritchie in, from next door, to sign as a witness. Emmy wanted to sign, but couldn’t. She was only 12 and she was family anyway.

Before she left, Joyce gave them a couple of copies of the script, with a warning that it was not finalized and this was just a working draft and subject to change. She also gave them air-tickets for William and a parent to fly up to Auckland, on Saturday morning, to meet the cast and crew and to sit in on some meetings. She would be there to meet them at the airport.

The parents decided that Paul should be the one to go. They’d be back Sunday night and he didn’t work weekends anyway.

Joyce met them at Auckland Airport, as promised, and she drove them in to the city to check into their hotel, the ‘Harvard”. The meetings were, conveniently, to be held in the Harvard’s conference room, they had it for the weekend.

Paul signed in, and then they took their bags up to their shared room. William had, yet another, nervous pee, and then they went up to the conference room. Joyce greeted them there, and handed them over to her assistant, Bruce Grenville. (‘The Assistant’s Assistant?’) Paul decided that he’d have to watch this guy carefully. He seemed pleasant enough, but he was terribly effeminate.

William was fascinated by him. He knew that he was different, but he didn’t know why. William was a bit green really; he was a bright boy, but he was only 10 years old.

Bruce introduced them first to “God” – the Director, and then they went around the room meeting all the others. There was an awful lot of them, a man, or a woman, for every job imaginable. No wonder movies were so expensive to make. The hotel wouldn’t be cheap either. It was a class joint, top of the range.

Finally, they got to meet the other 2 boys who were also being ushered around the room. The 3rd boy, who wouldn’t be around for long, was named Stephen Stephenson; he was there with his mother. William wondered what his father’s name was? Surely not Stephen, that would be just too dorky!

The 2nd boy, who wouldn’t be around for much longer, was a Maori boy, Cody Pihema. He had dark hair and dark skin, of course. He also had a huge, friendly smile. William liked the look of him, they could be friends.

“So you’re the rotten bugger who pinched my part?” Cody grinned and offered a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Hey, Cody. Was it your part?”

“Nah, not really. I didn’t even want it. It was all Uncle’s idea; he wanted me in the role.”

“Your Uncle?”

“Yeah, Uncle Joe – Joe Pihema, he’s the scriptwriter and he reckons that it was written for me. She’s right, William. Don’t worry about it. I really didn’t want it and I haven’t got the time anyway. I’m already in a TV series.”

“Really? Wow! What channel? I don’t think I’ve seen you.”

“Probably not. I’m in ‘Porero’, that’s the Saturday morning kids’ programme on Maori TV. We don’t have a huge audience because it’s up against ‘What Now’, on TV2 and that’s way more popular. I act in some of the sketches, but mostly I just sing and dance and wiggle my butt and look cute for the cameraman.”

“For the cameraman?”

“Yeah, of course. You’ve gotta play up to the cameraman. Once he’s got a crush on you, you’ve got it made and you get all the best shots and lots of time on the screen.”

“The cameraman’s got a crush on you? Is the cameraman a lady?”

“No, he’s a guy of course. He’s an old perv, which is great because they’re the easiest to charm.”

William was not sure what he thought about that. It seemed that there was more to this business than Mrs. Crase had told them about in her drama classes at Harwood Primary School. Well, he’d live and learn. He looked around the room to see where his dad was.

“Looking for your escort? How old are you anyway, William?”

“Ten. I’m ten. How old are you?”

“Yeah, you’re 10 in the movie, we all are, but how old are you really?”

“I’m really 10. aren’t you?”

“Nah. I’m 12, nearly 13 and going on 30. Who are you here with?”

“I came with my dad. That’s him over there. He’s a teacher in my school too.”

“Your dad’s your teacher? Bummer! Speaking of bummers, that’s my carer over there, my pervy cousin, Rangi.”

“Is your cousin a perv?”

“Is the pope a catholic? Of course he is! They’ve got me sharing a room with him too, so I might have trouble sitting comfortably tomorrow.”

“Why might you? Oh. Are you going to let him do that stuff to you?”

“Well, yeah! He always does. I don’t mind, I love it! Make the most of being young and beautiful, William. It doesn’t last forever. I’ve gotta go – Joyce wants me. See you soon.”

William watched Cody walk away, through the crowded room, and he felt like he was very young. He had a lot to learn. Did he want to learn? Well, yeah, maybe. Cody seemed to have things sorted, and that was all something that he knew nothing about.

They were there in the same room for the rest of the day and well into the evening, apart from meals in the dining room. William didn’t eat much, he was way too excited and, besides, he’d been grazing all day on the snack-trays in the conference room.

When they talked with the costume lady, as Paul had feared, she was talking about high-heeled boots and bell-bottom trousers.

“I think that, with your blond-hair and green eyes, you’d suit green. We’ll put you in green and gold clothes.”

“Green?” William protested. “Can’t I have red? I like red clothes – red and black.”

“He does,” Paul agreed. “Red and black are his definite favourite colours.”

“No, I can’t see it.” She shook her head dramatically. “Our story is set in the 1970’s. Clothes were very bright and colourful then, garish in fact, but, red and black? I’ll tell you what – how about we put you in red pants? Yes, that would work. Tight-fitting bright red jeans, with flares. Your sandals could be black. You could have a shiny green shirt with a gold choker around your slender neck. I like the picture – we’ll do that.”

Paul smiled to himself. William had a way of getting what he wanted.

“A choker? Is that like a necklace? Did boys wear Jewellery back then?”

“Sweetheart, everybody did. You’ve heard of ‘bling’? They invented bling in the 70’s.”

It was a long day; it was after 11pm when they finished. William was looking forward to bed, it was way past his usual bedtime, but he still had trouble getting to sleep. He wasn’t used to sharing a room with his father and the snoring and farting kept him awake for hours

The room stunk like a brewery too. His dad had had far too many of the free drinks provided. It was all right for him, he slept like a rock. William didn’t.

He lay, wide-awake, in the unfamiliar bed and wondered what Cody and his cousin were doing in their room? Did he want to know? Yeah, he did! Maybe Cody would tell him some more? It was good that they weren’t making a horror-movie, and red jeans would be cool, and – he slept.

Kaimoana Tales, William 2

“I got it. I got it. I got it! They want me. I’m going to be in the movies. I might be famous. I got it!!”

“Whoah. Settle down, Wills. Calm down and tell us quietly. What did you get?”

“The part! The part in the movie. It’s the main part too; I’ll be the star! Me – William Scott, movie star. Imagine that!”

“I don’t know if I can,” his father frowned over his evening paper. “William, we haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re talking about. What part? What movie? What have you been up to now?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” He flopped down on the couch by his mother, looking worried now. “These people are making a movie, a real movie, and I tried out for it and they filmed me and now they want me to go up to Auckland for the final edition.”

“You did? They do? To Auckland? William, who are these people, and how did you get involved in something like this?”

“It’s Greystone Film Productions. They’re a company and they make movies and Mrs. Crase said I should try out for it and I did and they want me. So cool!”

“Mrs. Crase?”

“Yeah. She’s my drama-club teacher at school.”

“I do know Geraldine Crase. I’m a teacher at your school as well, remember. How did she get you into this?”

“Mrs. Crase’s brother works for Greystone. He was visiting her and she told him about me and he filmed me, and I got the part! Can I do it?”

“Well, of course you can. If this is all above-board, it would be a great experience for you. I think I’d better phone Geraldine and find out what this ‘final edition’ business is about.”

Paul went away to his ‘office’ to contact Mrs. Crase. The office was just a desk in the corner of his bedroom really; but that’s what they called it.

When he returned, William was busy telling his mother and sister all about the movie.

“It’s about these 3 boys and they break in to this crazy old man’s house. He’s a hoarder and his house is full of junk and stuff that he’s collected. It’s really, really full and there’s hardly any room to move in there.

They’ve heard that he’s got heaps of old Playboys, Girlie stuff and Gay magazines, right back to the first copies ever published; so that’s why they break in – to pinch some of his Playboys. He goes out shopping on Saturday mornings, so that’s when they go, ‘cos he won’t be there.

They stand up on the hill behind the house and throw stones on the roof to make sure that he’s not there, ‘cos they figure if he is, he’ll come out and yell at them. He doesn’t, so they decide that he’s gone and they climb in through a window in the kitchen. The house is full of stacks of stuff everywhere, with just narrow alleys in between them.

One of the boys chickens out and he leaves and that’s the last you see of him. That one won’t be me.

They sneak through to the living-room and they find the Playboys, hundreds and hundreds of them, on a sideboard in there.

Hello Dad. Did you get Mrs. Crase? What did she say?”

“Yes, I spoke to her and it’s all above-board, apparently. This is the real thing. She said that there was a letter that you were supposed to give us. Where is that?”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot, sorry. I think it’s still in my school-bag.”

“Okay. But you should have showed us. You’re 10 years old, William, you don’t make these sort of decisions for yourself, that’s our job. Okay?”

“Okay. Sheesh! I said I was sorry! I just forgot. When does the filming start?”

“It’s not that simple, Son. You may not have the part yet, they still haven’t decided. It’s the final audition that they want you to come for. Audition, not edition. You do understand what that means, don’t you?”

“Oh. I didn’t get the part then?”

“Not yet. You might, you might not; it just depends on what sort of boy they’re looking for. I think that you done really well to get this far. They started with over 200 boys and now you’re one of the final 12.”

“So, it’s like NZ Idol then?”

“In a way, yes. But there’s no public voting, in this case the judges’ decision is final. They’ll select 3 boys from the 12, so your chances are, like, 1 in 4.”

“Like 3 out of 4 chances that I won’t get it. Or 12 to 1, because I want the main part, not the wimps who run away.”

“Only 1 of them doesn’t run away?” his sister, Emmy said. “Tell us more, Wills, I want to know the rest of the story.”

“Yes, so do I,” said his mother. “I’m a bit concerned about these boys looking for gay magazines. This is not a pornographic film, is it?”

“No, Mum. It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then? Tell us the rest of the story.”

“It’s a love story, but it’s a bit different.”

“How different? What happens?”

“Well, they find the magazines and they’re all like, “Gee wow!”, and they’re just looking at the cover pictures, and then they hear the upstairs toilet flush and they realise that the old guy hasn’t gone out at all – he’s still in the house, upstairs.

So they panic and they run and try to get outta there, but the one in the lead knocks all this stuff over. He dives out of the window and he’s gone. But there’s this great big bird cage, it’s made out of steel and stuff and it’s huge. It falls down with a huge noise, lotsa banging and crashing, and it jams in the aisle and the boy can’t get out. He’s stuck.

He tries to move it out of the way but it’s jammed and he can’t. The old guy hears all the noise and he comes into the room and he catches him. And, can I have a drink now?”

“No, you can not! Finish the story, Wills. You can’t leave it there.”

“Okay, but I’m really thirsty. What happens? Well, the old guy catches the boy but he’s not angry with him or anything, he’s really nice to him. He says that he needs his help and he’ll give him some of the books if he’ll help him move some stuff around.

The boy says that he’ll help, and they move all this stuff away from one end of the room, there’s huge stacks of paper and boxes and things. They uncover a door and it’s the front-door out of the house. They move everything away from it and clear the opening and an aisle right back to the door at the other end of the room.

The old guy won’t say why they’re doing it and, when he goes out of the room for something, the boy opens the other door and goes in to see what’s in there.

He comes running back out again, all scared and panicky. The old guy catches him again, and calms him down, telling him that there’s nothing to worry about. He takes him by the hand and leads him back into the other room and there’s a dead body in there – a big, fat guy, sitting in an armchair.

Are you sure that I can’t have a drink now?”

“Yes, I’m sure! Finish the story.”

“All right! Well, the old guy tells him that the stiff was his friend, his partner for over 30 years. He’s been sick for a long time and now he’s just died, a couple of hours ago. He hasn’t told anyone yet because his friend has been putting up with his collecting for all these years and he always said that, when he goes out, he wanted to go out through the front-door, which they hadn’t seen in, like, forever.

So now they’re clearing the way so that the old guy can grant his friend’s wish as a final act of love. The End – it’s just a short film. Now can I have a drink?”

“Yes, you can have a drink. Go and get it yourself.”

“All right!”

William left the room, running, and Sarah turned to her husband. “I’m not too sure about all of this. Young boys looking for porno mags and old men who are long-time gay lovers. Do we want Wills involved in something like this?”

“I don’t see why not. It all seems pretty innocent to me. A good moral tale, it’s just a bit different, that’s all. This is the 21st century, Sarah, not the 19th.”

“Well, okay. We’ll see what happens I suppose. You say that he hasn’t even got the part yet?”

“No, not yet, but Geraldine says she’ll be surprised if he doesn’t. The boy’s a natural actor, apparently.”

“Yes, well we know that! What happens now?”

“Some of the film company will be back next week, to hold the auditions and film the kids. He may need some time off school and one of us will have to be there with him.”

“Of course we will. I’ll take some time off work. It’s easier for me to rearrange my schedule than it would be for you.”

“So, you’ll support him in this then?”

“Paul! Of course I’ll support him. If this is all above-board it will be a wonderful experience for him. And, if it’s not, I’ll be there to put a stop to any funny business.”

“I’m sure there won’t, but, yes, one of us should be there.”

Sarah retrieved the letter from William’s school-bag, they read it together, and then Paul rang the contact number to say that, yes, William would be available when they wanted him.

The confirming email arrived Sunday afternoon. Sarah took William out of school on Wednesday and drove across the city to Altamont Studios, where the auditions were being held.

There were several other boys there, with their parents and guardians, and they had to wait as they were being seen alphabetically. When their turn finally came, she sat quietly in the corner of the room and watched as William sprawled on a big couch and chatted comfortably with a business-like woman and 2 guys. A cameraman hovered around and filmed them.

They had William read out a passage from a book, and then he read through a piece from a script while one of the guys read the other part. Sarah was impressed with her son. He didn’t stumble over his words at all, he was completely relaxed and he laughed and smiled easily.

‘These people are good at their job,’ she thought approvingly.

When they’d finished, the woman thanked them and said that they’d be in touch when the final decision had been made. “We actually had a Maori boy in mind for the role, but that’s not set in concrete and I quite like the look of William. He’ll have my vote anyway.”

They returned home, and then spent several agonizing days while they waited for the casting-director’s decision. At first, William was sure that he’d get the part, then not so sure, and then he was certain that he wouldn’t.

“They want a Maori boy and I’m not one. They won’t want me. I don’t want to be in any dumb movie anyway. It’s all a waste of time and I should be in school. I’m not doing it, even if they want me to. You’ll tell me if you hear something, won’t you, Dad?”

“Of course we will, as soon as we hear anything, we’ll let you know. I’ve said it before, but I really do think that you’ve done well to get this far. It’s been an experience for you and I’m proud of you, Son.”

“Thanks Dad. It was fun, kind of, but I don’t want to do it now. I’m bored of it and they won’t want me anyhow. I’ll be in my room if you want me.”

“Ah, poor kid,” Sarah sighed. “He’s a bundle of nerves. In a way, it’d be better if he doesn’t get it, at least it’d be over with.”

“You might be right, but I hope that he does. It’d be great for him. He’s a bright boy but he’s lacking in confidence, obviously.”

“Yes, obviously. I wish they’d just hurry up and let us know, one way or the other. The waiting is the worst part.”

“You’re not wrong. Let’s all go out for dinner and a movie and just forget it for a while.”

“You want to go to a movie to forget about William’s movie? That’s not going to work. We could go to a live show. What’s on?”

Sarah checked the paper, and Paul sat back and grinned. “It’s all very exciting, though, isn’t it? This is a great learning experience for all of us.”

“Oh, Paul! You see everything as a learning experience.”

“Yes, you might be right. That’s probably why I’m a teacher.” He sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. “I think it’s time that I had a haircut. I’ll go on the way home from school tomorrow. Wills can come with me too, it’s starting to look like he’s got a blond mop on his head.”

“No. You can do what you like, but William is not getting his hair cut off.”

“Why not? His hair is so fine and wispy, the longer it gets, the more it sticks-out in all directions. He’s not a fan of long hair anyway, he’s always preferred it to be short.”

“He has and I agree with you, but he can’t have it cut right now. The film company people asked that he doesn’t. They like his hair the way it is and they’d prefer it to be longer.”

“Really? Why?”

“For the look of course. This movie is set in the 1970’s, back when everyone’s sex-education came from printed magazines. They want everyone to have long hair. Everyone had big hair back in those days.”

“They did! They don’t call the 1970’s the ‘decade that style forgot’ for nothing. They’re not going to make him wear an ABBA outfit, are they?”

“I don’t think so. I hope not. They’re just meant to be boys, not performers on a stage.”

“Everybody dressed like they were on a stage back then. We’ve got photos of your dad with his open-fronted shirts, showing off his hairy chest and his gold medallions. He had those pants too, skin-tight and shiny with huge bell-bottoms. Not a nice sight.”

“Definitely not. I can’t see Wills in high-heels and flares, he’d fall over his big feet when he tried to walk.”

“He probably would, but I don’t think they’d be in high-heel boots. What did kids wear on their feet in those days?”

“I don’t know. Sandals, maybe? Or jandals. I think that sneakers were around then.”

“Not so different to today then. Where are we going for dinner?”

Kaimoana Tales, William 1

It was getting closer. He knew it was coming, there was a chill in the air and he could hear the heavy breathing as it climbed the stairs to his room. It was his room that it was coming to, he knew that.

There were other rooms at the top of the house; his parents and his sister were sleeping peacefully in theirs. William was not sleeping, he was wide-awake and terrified, lying rigid in his bed and waiting for it to come for him.

A loud creaking noise split the still night air. He knew what that was – a step near the top of the stairs made that noise when something big, something heavy, trod on it. It never made a sound when he climbed the stairs, he was too light to worry it, but sometimes it did when his father walked on it. Sometimes, but not always. But it never sounded as loud as it did now.

He knew what he should do; he should get out of there before it was too late. He should take the only other way out and dive out of the window, hoping that the bushes below would break his fall. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t move.

He was petrified with fear, shivering and shaking and he broke out in a cold sweat. There was a sudden rush, a warm wet feeling. Damm. He’d pissed the bed, again!

It stopped on the landing outside his door, he could hear it breathing and there was a horrible, dead, smell in the air. The door handle turned, slowly and quietly. It turned back again. It turned again and again, fast and loud now.

Good! It couldn’t get in, could it? He was so glad that he’d locked the door when he went to bed. Maybe he was safe?

The door exploded inwards with a sudden crash and a dark, bloody, something filled the gap. It could get in, there was nothing stopping it.

“No,” William whispered. “No. No. No!!” he screamed. Now that he’d found his voice, he used it and he screamed at the top of his lungs, over and over again.

The light came on and a warm presence rushed into the room. “William! Wills, wake up. Wake up, my Baby. It’s okay, it’s okay, Sweetheart. I’m here, you’re safe.”

His mother lifted him up and wrapped her warm arms around him. He clung to her and sobbed over her shoulder.

“The Thing! The Thing was here. It was going to get me! Hold me, Mummy.”

“I’ve got you, Wills. It’s all right, there is no Thing here,” she cooed as she cuddled him.

“Oh William!! You’re all wet. You’ve wet the bed again.”

She tried to push him off, but he was not letting go. “It scared me!” he protested.

“You’re far too big to be wetting the bed,” his half-awake father grumbled from the doorway. “What scared you, William? There’s nothing here, there never is. We’ve got to do something, Sarah. This can’t go on; there’s something wrong with the boy.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” she bristled. “He’s just a baby and he had a nightmare.”

“Again.” he replied. “He is not a baby. He’s six years old and he should not be wetting the bed and waking up screaming every night.”

“It’s not every night!”

“Lately it is. Every night and several times some nights. We have to get help for him, this can’t go on.”

“We will deal with it,” she snapped. “We don’t need anyone else involved. I’m a psychologist, for crying out loud!”

“You’re an Educational Psychologist and I’m a Primary Teacher. This is not something we can handle ourselves. Forget your professional ego, this is our boy and he needs help. We have to do something for him and we can’t do it ourselves. William needs a psychiatrist.”

“He doesn’t! That’s a terrible thing to say. He’s just a boy, he’s very, very bright, he’s got a vivid imagination and he’s having bad dreams, that’s all.”

“That’s all, is it?” Paul sighed. “Well, he’s not dreaming now, is he?” He opened a drawer and took out some clothes.

“Here, Wills. You’ll have to get changed. Why don’t you put these on?” He laid a pair of black shorts down on the bed.

He looked at them in horror and he cringed away. “No. No,” he whimpered. “They’re black. I can’t wear them, they’re black! Take them away, Daddy.”

“Okay, Son.” He picked up the shorts. “No black clothes then. You need a shirt, how about this nice red t-shirt that your Gramma sent for you?”

He held up, spread out in both hands, a brilliant red t-shirt. William looked at it and screamed! He tried to slide around behind his mother as he bawled.

“Red! It’s red. It’s blood! Blood. No, no!!” He collapsed in tears.

“It’s okay, Wills. It’s okay, they’re just clothes. I’ll put them away.”

He stuffed them back into the drawer and slammed it shut. “There. All gone now.”

Sarah lifted the boy up and cuddled him as she glared over his head at her husband.

“He’s not sleeping now, Sarah. If this is a nightmare, then we’re all living it.”

“All right, Paul. You’ve made your point. You can fix the bed and I’ll clean him up and change his PJ’s.”

“Not red!” William cried.

“No, Darling. Not red and not black either. In the morning, I’ll make an appointment to see a psychiatrist.”

Kaimoana Tales - Crash

(Okay! I think we're back in business. The Kaimoana Tales are being posted at IOMFATS, but i've got a lot more stuff written & it worries me that if this computer crashes, it'll be lost. so, i'm just going to start posting it here as a back-up.

Cheers.)

Late night, Wednesday night - really late. Maurie was used to late nights, but this was over the top. On weeknights he was usually in bed by midnight, not driving down the highway at 3.30am.
He'd caught the late ferry, with his van-load of goods, arrived in Picton at 1.30am, and now he had to get to Christchurch before breakfast. It was normally a 4 or 5 hour trip, but he figured that he'd make good time in the middle of the night. It wasn't a bad time to be driving, the roads were quiet and nearly empty and it was not too hot. If only he wasn't so bloody tired!
He had hoped to catch a bit of sleep on the 3 hour ferry crossing, but that didn't work. It was all far too bright and noisy and it was a rough crossing. The weather was fine, but there was a strong wind blowing and the sea was as rough as only Cook Strait can be. The best he could do was to stretch out on a couple of the padded seats and try to doze a bit - not very successfully, he was not a good sailor.
He'd had no sleep when they arrived in Picton and he was already tired before he started driving. The back of the van was loaded with lots of party-pills and stuff, some legal, some not, but he didn't know of any that would just keep him awake without affecting his driving. He'd probably have too much immunity to their effects anyway, he'd popped hundreds in his time. He should've bought some 'No Doze' pills, or something, but hadn't thought of it. He was so tired it'd take a box-full to be of any help. It'd been a long, hard day.
Anyone with half a brain would pull over and have a rest when he was feeling like this. But, no, he'd probably sleep all night and he didn't have the time to spare. Maurie just wanted to get to Christchurch and off-load all the stuff he was carrying.
The van was loaded to the roof with party-drugs and sex-shop supplies - toys, books, magazines and DVD's. Some of it was 'gay' stuff, but some was 'straight', some was 'soft', some was downright kinky. Most of it was legal, but some was very not. He didn't want to be picked up with all this stuff, he'd go sky-high!
This was not his damm job, but the regular courier driver was AWOL and Mr. Lamont told Maurie to "do the f'ing run." What Mr. Lamont wanted, Mr. Lamont got - if you knew what was good for you. He had to get the van back to Wellington and fly home to Auckland by tonight. He didn't want to think about that.
Murphy's Law works as well in the South Island as it does anywhere else - 'if something can go wrong, it will'. Maurie crashed the bloody van didn't he!
The road was quiet, no other traffic around at all, and he was cruising along the easy, sweeping, highway, more-or-less on auto-pilot. He was just a few minutes north of Kaimoana and the highway was flat there, sandwiched between the hills to his right and the parallel railway lines and the beach, somewhere out there in the dark, to his left. The only noise was coming from the radio which was tuned to the only station he could pick up around there. The late-night music they were playing, all soft and dreamy, wasn't helping either.
It happened on a short, straight, piece of road, his eyes drifted closed and he went to sleep. The van kept going straight until, when the road and railway curved around to the right, it shot off the road and onto the railway-line. The front wheels hit the tracks, they turned, and it carried on, bouncing along the sleepers of the track-bed, still guided by the rails. The back doors flew open and boxes of the load bounced out and burst open, leaving a trail of debris along the line.
When it came to a small, sideless, railway bridge, the van toppled sideways and dived down to land, nose-first, in the muddy creek bed, about 3 meters below.
Maurie woke up with a start, hanging upside-down in the safety-belt and half buried in all the stuff that had fallen from the back of the van which was now lodged upright with the front in the creek and the rear in the air.
"Oh, Bloody Hell! Does it get any worse than this?" he exclaimed.
It did.
He struggled out of the belt and climbed up through the van and onto the railway bridge. Feeling groggy, shocked, dazed and bleeding, he started staggering along the tracks, heading towards Kaimoana, the nearest town.
He'd only gone about 40 meters when he came to a second, identical bridge over another creek. He walked out on to it, stumbled, tripped and fell to land with a 'splat' in the mud below. He dragged himself out of the creek. The bank was only about 3 or 4 meters high, but it was steep.
With his feet still trailing in the water, he lowered his head to the ground for a rest, and went back to sleep.
A farmer came along the road, in a tractor, going out to do the early-morning milking, and found him there, just after dawn. He saw the body lying by the creek, saw the van a few meters away, lodged in the other creek, and he realised what had happened. He stopped and checked the guy in the creek; he was out to it but was alive and didn't seem to be too badly injured, so the farmer rang 111 for the Emergency Services.
They all came roaring out from town, the ambulance, the police and the fire-brigade. Maurie was lifted up to the road, loaded into the ambulance and taken to the cottage-hospital.
The volunteer firemen inspected the scene and decided that there was nothing they could do; it was going to take a crane to get that thing out of there. With great hilarity, they got back into their fire-engine and went back to town. They all had jobs to go to. More than a few bits and pieces of the van's cargo went with them too.
Constable Lawry, chuckling to himself, was left alone there. He took some photos of the scene, secured the area by stringing 'Police Emergency' tape along between the road and the railway line, and then went back to town as well. He wasn't sure whether the firemen had said if they'd arrange for a crane to get the van out, but, knowing them, he'd probably have to do it himself. One or two samples went with him too.
A few cars and trucks went past. Some slowed down to see what the trouble was, but nobody stopped. Nobody got out and crossed over the 'Police' line.
After about an hour, a group of 5 boys, 10, 11 and 12 years old, came along the highway. They were heading out for a day's bike ride and had got an early start. They saw the tape and saw the van in the creek and the debris scattered along the railway line.
Being boys, of course they stopped to have a look and there was great excitement when they realised what all the scattered DVD's and magazines and stuff were about. The Police tape didn't stop them for a minute, they ducked under it and over it and started collecting all the scattered treasures. Choice!
They found all sorts of toys - light whips, fur-lined handcuffs and crotchless panties etc. There were creams and oils, rings which were far too big for anyone's fingers and too small to fit on a hand and condoms of all shapes and sizes. Johnny, the youngest there, found a huge rubber cock. He didn't know what it was for and he'd never seen one that big, but he knew exactly what it was. They all did.
He clapped it to his forehead and ran around saying, "Look at me. I'm a dickhead!" everyone laughed and agreed that he was.
The oldest boy there, Rodney Lawry, the cop's son, soon realised that this stuff wouldn't be left lying there for long. So they collected up all that they could carry and got the hell out of there while the going was good.
In the days that followed, the 5 boys were the richest and most popular kids in Kaimoana and everyone's sex education went ahead in leaps and bounds.