Westpoint Tales - Epilogue

(Westpoint 2060AD)

In England, the king lay dying. At the far end of the world, in Westpoint, nobody ‘gave a bugger’. It was all a bit sad, for him and his family, but whether he lived or died and who was the king in England made very little difference to the people of Westpoint.

It was nothing to do with them and they had worries enough of their own. Kathleen Reynolds, nee Adams, was dying as well.

It had to happen sooner or later; she was 108 years old after all, and no-one lives forever. But it was hard to imagine how life was going to be without her. She was one of the oldest people around and she had always been so full of life and fire that it seemed like she would go on forever.

Westpoint was never going to be the same without Kathleen Reynolds bossing them around.

At the Square, in the grandstand, Justin was sitting looking pensively out at the rain. Bill’s car pulled up out the front and he came up and sat beside him.

“Hey, Sweetcheeks. I thought I’d find you here.”

“Hey Sunny. You know me too well, you always did.”

“No better than you know me, my Old Friend. What are you doing here anyway?”

“Just thinking. Remembering. How’s the old lady, have you heard?”

“No, I haven’t heard. She’s still sleeping, as far as I know. Don’t worry, Justin, if . . .when, anything happens, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Grandmother’s dying, Billy. I can’t believe it – grandmother is actually dying.”

“I know. I know it hurts, but she’s an old, old lady. She’s old and tired and just worn out. You wouldn’t want her to hang around suffering.”

“No. You’re right, of course, but I’m going to miss her. I’m really going to miss her. I love my grandmother, Billy.”

“Of course you do! I know that, Grandmother knows that and she loves you too, she always has.”

Justin looked into Billy’s eyes. Tears welled up and he started to cry, for the 10,000th time. Billy put an arm around him and he held him, also for the 10,000th time.

“She was the first, Sunny. The first person who ever really loved me. Granddad did too, but Grandmother was the first.”

“Lots of people have loved you, Justin. Lots of people still do.”

“I know that. I appreciate that – especially you. Always you, first, last and always; but Grandmother was the first ever. I’d never known love, and she gave it to me. She picked up a damaged, shy and bloody difficult kid. She picked up me – picked me up, took me into her home and into her life and gave me love. She gave me a life.”

“She did, Justin. All of that is true, but you gave it back, don’t ever forget that. You always give it back. Whatever anyone gives you, you give it back with interest.”

“You think?”

“No. I don’t think, I know. Nobody knows that better than I do. Nobody ever did.”

“Nobody ever knew me like you do. Thank you. I love you, Billy.”

“Yeah, you do.” Billy beamed his ever-sunny smile. “And that’s just great. I love you too, always have, always will.”

“Ah, shit, Sunny. You’re doing it again. Make me cry, why don’t you? Grandmother was the first, but you are the best. She made my life possible, but you made it happen. It’s been a great life, Billy, really great, thanks to you.”

“Thanks to you, Sweetcheeks. Come on, let’s not sit here getting maudlin. Our life is not over yet, there’s still more chapters to write, even without your Gran. Come on, Old Boy, let’s go home.”

They stood up to go and looked out at two runners coming around the track in the rain. Well, one was running, the other was sitting in a wheelchair and being pushed along.

“Get in out of the rain, you silly little buggers!” Justin called out.

“Hey Granddads!” Billy Carver grinned wetly at them. “We’re okay. Just having a run and a cold shower at the same time.”

“You’re bloody mad,” Billy replied. “You’re all right there are you, JH?”

“I’m fine, Granddad.” The boy with the long wet and white hair replied. “I’ll be even better when I can get out of this bloody chair! I don’t know how Billy stood it for all those years.”

“I was just waiting for you, My Love.” Billy leant forward and kissed the top of JH’s wet head. “Next time we’re ski-ing, you’ll stay on the beginner’s slopes. Anyway, I’m loving this! Payback!! See you, Granddads.”

They ran on around the track in the rain.

Justin shook his head as they watched them go. “See you at home, our Lovely Boys.”

“Kids eh?” Billy grinned. “Bloody kids.”

“Fucking kids.”

“Shut up Justin!”

“Anyway Sunny, they’re not that young. They’re nearly 30 you know.”

“Thirty? Those two? No! Damm, the years are flying past.”

They got in the car and left the Square, heading down King Street.

“Turn left here, Sunny. Go back up to the main street for me.”

Billy followed the pointing finger, and turned left and then right into the main street.

“Okay. Now what? Embankment Road?”

“No, not there. Turn right here, into Cobham Street.”

“Cobham Street? Who do we know up there? Have you got a girlfriend that you haven’t told me about?”

“Yeah, of course I have. I’ve got hundreds of girlfriends that you don’t know about.”

“Sure you have! Where are we going anyway?”

“Just up here. Slow down or you’ll miss it. There! Stop, Billy. Stop and look. Remember that?”

“Remember what? Oh yeah – the old Union Hall. Of course I remember that. “We danced all night at the Union Hall. She could dance so hard, she shook the paint off the walls.””

“Well we never quite managed to do that, but we had some great times there, didn’t we?”

“We did. Great times, great days. Those were our golden years.”

“No. Wrong, Sunny. These are our golden years; those were just our Salad Days – the days of our youth.”

“I guess. They were great days, weren’t they?”

“They were. But remember old Mr. Green? Grumpy old George Green out at the cemetery? “Every day above ground is a good day, Boys.””

Billy laughed at Justin’s bad impersonation. “Yeah, he got that right. I haven’t thought about grumpy old George Green in years. He’ll be IN the cemetery by now.”

He started the car again and headed for Derby Street, going home to the New Adelphi, but Justin suddenly called, “Whoah, Sunny! Turn left around here into Romney Street.”

Billy did as he was told, and then stopped in Romney Street when Justin flagged him down. “What now? You are full of nostalgia today, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Told you I was remembering. There’s George and Crispian’s house. Grandmother’s dying is making me think of all those that we’ve lost. There’s been a lot!”

“There certainly has. I guess that the longer you live, the more dead people you know. But there’s always young ones coming up to take their place.”

“There’s always young ones, but they don’t really take anyone’s place, they just make places of their own. All of the older generations are going, Sunny. There’ll be no-one left to call me ‘Superboy’ soon.”

“I thought you hated that. You’ll always be my Superboy, Justin. Always.”

“Yeah. And you’ll always be my Sunny-boy too. George and Crispian eh? They were a long time before they found each other, but they were happy for a few years.”

“Quite a few years, really. I wonder how Gemmy felt about those two being dumped in on top of him.”

“I don’t think he would have minded at all – not a bit.”

“Where are we going to be buried, Justin?”

“We’re not.”

“We’re not? You want to be cremated then, do you? They could scatter our ashes around the Square. Or, would you rather be shot out towards the sun? They’re doing a bit of that these days.”

“No, Sunny. We’re going to live forever, you and I.”

“That’d be nice, but I don’t think even Superboy could manage that.”

“We’ll just have to work on it then. I’ll ask Jonathan.”

“Shut up, Justin,” Billy laughed. “Are we going home now, or have you got more memories?”

“Just one more and then we’ll go home. Turn back into Derby Street.”

They went back and straight ahead into Pattinson Park Raceway.

“The racecourse. I don’t like this place, Justin. Your memorial service was the saddest day of my life, even worse than when you disappeared in the river. I thought I was going to die myself.”

“Just as well you didn’t do that! I’m alive, you’re alive, we’re still here – still crazy after all these years.”

“It turned out all right, but don’t you ever put me through something like that again or I’ll bloody kill you!”

“Hey! I couldn’t help it, you know.”

“I know, but don’t do it anyway.”

“Anyway. That is not what I was thinking about. It was Jinks and Toddy. That was the same day that Jinks came back to him after everyone thought he’d been drowned at sea.”

“Jinks and Toddy,” Billy looked out across the racecourse and sighed. “That was great for them, then.”

“It was a great day then – but.”

“Yes, But. That was really sad. They had less than two years together.”

“Yeah, 21 months, 1 week and 2 days. Silly little shits. I could still kick their arses for them.”

“Granddad, your days of kicking arses are well gone.”

“Don’t you believe it, Sunny-Boy.”

“No? Okay, you probably could, but not those two; they’re way out of your reach. Who knows where they are now?”

“Yes. Silly little shits! One stupid argument, over a girl of all things! And they split up and both ran away, left town separately and no-one ever heard from either of them again!

C’mon Sunny, take me home now before I start crying again. Silly little shits!”

Back up in the tall tower of the Adelphi, they went straight into the old lady’s room. The nurse made a token protest, but she knew that she had no show of keeping them out of there.

Justin stood, crying quietly, as he studied his poor old grandmother. “Give it up, you stubborn old bugger. Let go and go to your rest,” he whispered.

The old lady’s eyes snapped open and she scanned around the room. “You trying to get rid of me, Boy?” she croaked.

“What? No, Grandmother. I just hate to see you suffering like this.”

“She’s not in any pain, Mr. Reynolds,” The nurse interrupted.

“Who?” Kathleen slowly turned her head and focused on the unfortunate girl. “Don’t you contradict my grandson, Girl. Justin knows better than you. Justin knows most everything, he always did.”

Justin winked at the nurse. Now he was smiling sadly, through his tears. The one thing that he’d always known and never, ever, doubted for an instant, was his grandmother’s great and abiding love for him. He was SO going to miss his grandmother.

“Wake up, Boy!” She broke into his thoughts. “You can stop wishing me dead. I‘ll go when I’m ready and not before.”

“I’m sure you will, Grandmother. No-one ever made you do anything that you didn’t want to do.”

“Is that what you think?” she rasped. “I’ll tell you a secret, Lovey. There were two handsome boys who could always twist me around their little fingers.”

She looked around the room until she found Billy standing there. “Three handsome boys. Billy Mathieson, you look after my boy.”

“I will, Grandmother. I always look out for Justin.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I know you do. Justin?”

“Grandmother?”

“He’s a good boy, that one. You hold on to him and never let go.”

“I will, Grandmother. I’ll never let him go.”

“See that you don’t. Where is your other half?”

“Jonathan? He’s not here yet. He’s on his way.”

Well, he’d better hurry up, I think. Billy, if Jonathan doesn’t get here in time, you tell him that I love him and then you have Justin kick his arse for being late.”

“We’ll do that, Grandmother. But I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“No excuses! Kick his arse, Superboy!”

“Actually,” Justin mused. “I don’t think I’ve ever kicked my brother’s arse for him. I’ve often threatened to, but I’ve never tried. I don’t know if I could.”

“Of course you could,” the old lady muttered as she drifted off to sleep again.

They slipped out and left her sleeping. Justin went to the bathroom and when he came back, Billy was outside on the balcony. Justin went out and stood behind him, slid his arms around him and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“There’s a million stories out there. Every street, every building, every person – they’ve all got a story to tell.”

“There is, Sweetcheeks, and the greatest story of all is right up here – you and me.”

After a couple of quiet minutes, Justin asked, “What’re you thinking about?”

“Us. So many people are chopping and changing, swapping partners like life is a barn-dance or something, but not us.”

“No, not us. You’re not thinking of trading me in are you, Sunny?”

“Sure I am. The minute they bring out a new, improved, Superboy – you’re out of here!”

“There is no new, improved, Superboy.”

“No, there’s not. There never has been and there never will be. I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, I never have.”

“No.” Billy turned around to stand face-to-face. “You weren’t kidding, were you, when you sang that song, ‘I Will Always Love You’, all those years ago?”

“I wasn’t kidding. I meant every word of it.”

“You did. You scared the bloody life out of me.”

“That’s what Ma said. But you came back. Thanks, Sunny.”

“I had nowhere else to go. I still don’t.”

Foreheads pressed together, they stood looking into each other’s eyes.

“Don’t you pinch me, Sweetcheeks. Don’t you ever pinch me. If I wake up and find that I’m dreaming, I’ll die.”

“For goodness sakes!! Get a room, why don’t you?”

They both turned and grinned at the woman coming out to join them.

“Hey, Claude.”

“Hello, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“Mrs. Reynolds!” She snorted. “I swear, you two are still like a pair of horny teenagers.”

“No we’re not!” Billy protested. “We’re just talking.”

“Speak for yourself, Sunny. I’m trying to seduce you here.”

“Behave yourself, Justin. How’s the old lady?”

“Still hanging in there, Claude. Where’s my brother. Grandmother has been waiting for him.”

“Jonathan’s on his way. He just stopped in to see Peter and Jay. He’s got some new music for them.”

“Those two must have the world’s biggest collection of oddball music by now.”

“I wouldn’t let them hear you say that, Sunny, unless you want a music lecture. But – yeah! So, you’re just back in town, Claude? How are the boys?”

“Just back in the country, Justin. The twins are fine. They’re turning into a couple of old men though.”

“Well, that’s their choice, I guess. As long as they’re happy with it. Still sleeping together are they?”

“That’s a bit personal, but, yes. It’s never going to stop now. My sons, brothers and lovers.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence. This was an old and sensitive subject. Jonathan and Claudette’s identical twins had been gay lovers ever since they were boys. Theirs was an open and very liberal family, most of them had come to terms with the situation, but Claudette never had.

She had other children, and she had grandchildren, but still, she couldn’t help feeling that they were wasting their lives.

“I just wish . . . Why couldn’t they be like Daniel and Tony? They were lovers, they’re still very close, but they’re both married, kind-of. They’ve both got ‘wives’ and kids anyway.”

“Claude, we’ve been through this a thousand times. The boys are happy. Daniel and Tony are the exception. Not many people have such understanding wives. Peter and Jay don’t have anyone else, nor do John and Brian or Jon and Bobby.”

“Jon and Bobby did for a while.”

“They did, and look what a disaster that turned out to be.”

“Turned out all right for you guys though, didn’t it?”

“It certainly did. Our Billy just loves his JH. They don’t have anyone else either. Nor do we.”

“You bloody better never have anyone else either, Sweetcheeks!”

“Shut up, Sunny. I couldn’t handle any more than you. I wouldn’t want to.”

“Yeah, love you too. Anyway, Claudette, your boys are happy. What more could any mother want?”

“I know, I know. They say that they’re happy, but they still fight like cat and dog.”

“Well,’ Justin grinned. “They are still brothers. That’s what brothers do.”

“You don’t. You never fight with your brother.”

“Not yet, but one of these days I’ll kick his arse.”

“You’ll try,” she laughed. “Anyway, you two are not a good example either. You don’t have other partners but you had a family. You have a grandson.”

“We do, and we love him to bits. That was a mistake, but it turned out to be the best mistake ever made.”

“Hey! I didn’t have any choice in it you know.”

“I know, Sunny. But you’d do it again, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would, if I knew that it would turn out the way it did.”

“Actually,” Claudette pondered. “Why didn’t you ever have any more children?”

“I’m still trying to get Sunny pregnant.”

“Shut up, Justin. You could’ve used surrogate mothers, they don’t cost all that much and it’s not like you couldn’t afford it.”

“No. we never wanted to do that. Jonathan’s the breeder, not me.”

“We’ve still got lots of family around us. It’s cool.”

“No. Well, you two have never grown up anyway.”

“Hey. We were good dads.”

“You were excellent dads, but you’re still a couple of big kids. You still look like kids.”

“Thanks to J&J’s R&R. “

“Yeah. I’ve never been tempted myself. I’m happy to be an old granny, as long as I can hold on to my man. Looks don’t matter so much, it’s what’s inside that counts.”

“That must be true. Jonathan looks no older than Justin does and he still loves his old granny-wife.”

“And so he should! I‘d better go in and see the old lady. See you later, Guys.”

“Okay. ‘Bye Claude. When are the boys coming home?”

“They’ll be here when they can. They won’t miss the funeral anyway.”

“They’d better or we’ll be having two more funerals!”

“You’re all talk, Superboy. You love your nephews.”

“Of course I do. They’re our other boys.”

“Okay then. See you soon.”

Claudette went back inside. Justin and Billy turned back to the view that they never tired of.

“She’s a good one, that Claudette Storer.”

“She is. I think we’ll keep her on. Shame about Lana though.”

“It was. That’s the way life goes. Love dies sometimes.”

“I guess. Still a shame though, and why did she have to run off with my brother of all people? Bloody Wayne. He always was problems for me.”

“Nobody blames you, Sunny. Nobody ever did. They were adults, they made their own choices.”

“It’s a small town.” Billy nodded down at the panorama before them.

“It is. A small town and a great town. Best town in the world, our Westpoint.”

“Yeah, our Westpoint, our home. You’re right, you know, there are a million stories out there.”

“Yeah. All different, but all the same. Funny how life goes. Who’d have ever thought that your baby-brother, our little tow-headed Ross would grow up to be Mayor of Westpoint? A Carver kid for mayor of the town.”

“We wouldn’t have. That would never have happened if a certain Superboy hadn’t come into our lives. Ross will be the best mayor this town has ever had.”

“He’d better be, or we’ll kick his arse too!”

“He will be. He’s not the first Mayor of Westpoint in our family, you know. We are descended from old James Hargreaves Williamson as well.”

“Isn’t everyone?”

The weather was turning sour again; the wind blew a few specks of cold rain towards them. Hand-in-hand, they walked back inside, together.”

End.

(I love you Billy - always & forever.)

Westpoint Tales - JH Williamson & Billy T. Carver, 5

Next morning, regretfully for some, it was time to go back to school. Billy wasn’t sorry, he was delighted to be going to his new school. He was delighted, but he was nervous as well. Billy could be a bit shy.

Still, the place would be full with his multitude of cousins, and, who knew, maybe he’d meet someone there. Someone special. Maybe there’d be some other useless, crippled kid who was lonely like him. They could rub their wheelchairs together. Maybe.

Usually, he would be going to school on his own. The chair was motorized and more than capable of the short trip up Derby Street. But today he was going with Kathleen. It was her privilege and her joy to enroll yet another grandson in the Highschool.

JH’s father wasn’t taking him to the school. He did offer but JH didn’t want him to. He was perfectly able to go and enroll himself. It was only a transfer from the previous school anyway. He was capable of looking after himself; he’d been doing it for years.

Anyway, he knew it was a small town and everything, but he was still not comfortable about being seen in public with his gay father. What if he hugged him or something? Something like that could do serious damage to his reputation.

He didn’t want people thinking that he was one of ‘them’. He didn’t tell Jon that though; he did like him even though he was a queer. Maybe he’d even get to like that Bobby? No, probably not. Bloody queers.

Billy was proudly escorted into the school and he was greeted by the Principal, Mr. Peters. That was a surprise. John Peters was an old, old friend of his granddads and he’d met him before, he just didn’t realise that he was the principal as well.

A gay guy as the Highschool Principal? Well, why not anyway?

JH rode to school, alone, on the bus. He was not about to admit it to anyone, but he was actually quite nervous. He was shy as well, but he tried not to let it show.

Anyway, he was pleased to see that his ‘cousin’, Claire Davison, was waiting there for him. She greeted him, took him in to show him where the offices were, and then left him there, alone.

He had to sit outside, waiting in the reception area. The school secretary, Mr. Tainui, was busy enrolling some other kid, so he’d have to wait for his turn. A young, fit-looking, blond guy came out of the secretary’s office and hurried out to the corridor.

Well, he looked young. You could never be sure these days, especially in Westpoint.

After a couple of minutes, he came back and he sat down next to JH.

“Hi. How’re you doing?”

“I’m good, thanks. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. It’s always exciting when a new school term gets under way. You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m new. First day today. I’m waiting to see this Tainui guy.”

“Okay. The Tainui guy will be with you in a few. I’m John Peters, by the way. I’m not new here; I’ve been here for years. I’m the Principal actually.” He offered his hand with a smile.

JH took it wonderingly. “You’re the Principal? Really? Umm, JH Williamson.”

“JH? Don’t tell me, let me guess. James Hargreaves, right?”

“That’s right! How did you know that?”

“We’ve met before, James. I was one of the lawyers for your dad in the custody case when you were a baby.”

“You were? And now you’re a teacher? That’s still pretty good guessing.”

“Not really. I’ve been talking to your father, he’s an old friend of ours. Yes, I changed to teaching. Law pays better, but I find teaching much more satisfying. Or, I did – I don’t get to do much teaching these days.

Anyway, welcome to Westpoint High, JH Williamson.”

“Thanks, Mr. Peters. It’s good to be here. I think.”

Billy T. Carver

When the enrolment was completed at last, Mr. Tainui gave me a disc with maps, school rules and stuff. (I’ll be sure to read them, someday). Then, finally, I was free to go and start my new life in my new school.

Grandmother Kathleen still couldn’t stop worrying and fussing around me. She told me that I should go and attach myself to one of my cousins and ‘hold on tight’. If any of the cousins gave me grief, she’d murder them. She also said that if I had trouble from anyone else, I should get their names and tell my granddads. Justin would sort them out.

There was no way that I was going to do that. I’m not a snitch and we’re not having my granddad beating on schoolkids. Grandmother worried too much. Who was going to beat on a cripple in a wheelchair?

Anyway, according to the cousins, bullying is not a problem around here. Other schools maybe, but not at Westpoint High.

We all left the office together. Mr. Tainui was going to take me to my first class, but then Mr. Peters stopped us. He got up from where he was talking to a kid in the reception area.

“Ah, good. Mrs. Reynolds, Harry, before you go, can I have a quick word with both of you? Won’t take a minute, Boys.”

The three of them went back into the office and the kid and I were left there, looking at each other. I liked what I saw.

He was a kid, a teenager, somewhere around my age, (I’m 14), but he was nothing like me. This guy was . . .Well, he was gorgeous! That was the only word I could think to describe him. Gorgeous. I’d never seen a nicer looking person in my life; and there were some real hotties around here.

Maybe he wasn’t your classic media-star hunk, but there was something about him. Something that I really, really liked. Gorgeous!

He looked at me, looked me up and down, from my wheels to my long and wild, carroty-red hair. Then he turned away and looked out of the window again. Oh well, there’s no way that someone like him would ever want to be friends with a wreck like me. Not even in my dreams. I wished that I was someone else – anyone else – anyone but a useless, crippled gayboy in a wheelchair.

Still, I couldn’t stop looking at him. Did I mention that he was gorgeous?

My hair was long, almost shoulder length. Not everyone likes it that way, but I do and I can wear it any way I please. Doctor Clive used to say that my ‘big’ hair was my way of compensating and trying to draw attention away from my legs and showing that there was more to me than that.

I don’t know. Maybe he’s right, but I just like it like that. I like the way it looks, I like the way it feels. Long hair feels like me, somehow.

My hair is also a bright red-orange colour. Not everyone likes red hair either, but – hey, I’m a Carver and I’m proud of that. I haven’t got much else to be proud of. Even if I could walk, I’d still be a puny, skinny, under-developed kid. I’d still be nothing special, nothing good enough for someone like him. Dammit!

His hair was not long, it was cut short – really short, and it was a stunning white in colour. This boy’s hair was actually, totally, white, and stunning. At first glance, (whenever that was), it looked like some sort of close fitting white-velvet cap on his head. I wouldn’t have liked to wear my hair that short, but on him it looked good.

Everything about him looked good. Well, everything except for one little thing. If only he’d smile, he’d light up the skies. His green eyes looked sad to me. I wished that I could make it better for him.

He glanced back at me a couple of times. Probably wondering who the weirdo was. But I couldn’t help it. I might never get another chance to sit this close to him.

James Hargreaves Williamson II

Funny how your life can change in an instant. You can be going along, quietly minding your own business and following the plans you’ve made for the day, when, wham! Something happens and your life is never the same again.

I was sitting outside the secretary’s office, waiting to enroll in Westpoint High; the principal, Mr. Peters, was sitting chatting to me. He was an okay guy, but I thought that he might be a queer – sometimes you can just tell.

He was hitting on me or anything. He was just being nice, being friendly and welcoming me to his school. He’s a friend of my Dad’s, apparently. (That’d be a bit of a giveaway right there.)

Anywho. We were sitting there when the office door opened and this really old lady came out. She was far too old to be working there and too old to be someone’s mum. A granny perhaps? Then I realised who she was – old Mrs. Reynolds. I’d seen her around town a couple of times. Dad said that she’s nearly 100 or something. She’s doing well for her age.

So – the Dragon Lady was down from her nest on top of the Adelphi tower. She must have had one of her hatchlings in there.

She was followed out by a big maori guy, Mr. Tainui, the school secretary. They both moved aside and a wheelchair came rolling out of the office. There was a kid in it – a skinny little kid with a huge mop of fiery red hair.

They were enrolling him in the Highschool? He looked far too young to be thrown in there with all the big kids. He must’ve been a new entrant. Advanced for his age maybe?

Poor little bugger. Fancy being stuck in a wheelchair at his age. I wondered what it was that was wrong with him? Nothing contagious, I hoped. No, of course it wasn’t.

‘Shut the fuck up, JH. Sheesh! Sometimes I piss off even me.’

That hair was amazing. He wouldn’t be a bad-looking kid if it wasn’t for the wheelchair. He could be a model for Billy’s Burgers. He looked like their cartoon logo.

‘Shut up again, JH. Since when do I look at boys? Where are the ladies?’

I dragged my eyes away and looked over at the kids outside the big windows. Mr. Peters said something and the three olds went back into the office, closing the door behind them. The kid and I were left alone there in the reception area.

Was he looking at me? I glanced back and he was. He was sitting quietly staring at me. What for? Was there something on my face? Was he a queer? Who was he anyway?

I risked another glance, he was still staring at me, so I looked back out of the window. I could see the busy scene outside, but I could also still see the kid. I could see his reflection in the glass. Cool!

The early-morning sunshine streaming through the windows was landing directly on him, lighting him up like . . like an angel! A skinny little, beautiful little, angel.

(‘Beautiful?? An angel? In a wheelchair? With red hair??’)

The sunlight made his dark red hair look like it was on fire.

I’d never felt like this. I’d never been attracted to a boy before. Was I turning queer? What was he looking at me for? What was I looking at him for?

He did look good – really, really good, and nice. There was something about him. I turned around again and looked directly at him – and he smiled!

He smiled at me. A big, a huge, glorious sunny smile lit up his face and I felt . . I felt . . .I felt great! I felt warm. I felt washed in the sunshine of a beautiful boy’s smile. I had to smile back at him and my life changed – Forever!

Westpoint Tales - JH Williamson & Billy T. Carver, 4

Over the next days, the new arrivals settled into the new homes, their new lives and their new town. Billy was delighted to be there. Well, mostly he was.

Billy loved his granddads and he knew that they loved him too. He even plucked up his courage and told them that he was gay too. Was he sure about that? Yes, he was. They were really cool about it – he knew that they would be. Even so, it was a relief to get that out in the open. Not that anyone would ever want him anyway, but he was glad that his granddads knew and they were okay with it.

Life was good, mostly. He still missed his mum. Hell, he still missed his dad, and he’d been gone for years. It was a strange thing, but he found that his granddad Justin reminded him very much of his lost and adored father.

That was crazy – Billy was Jeremy’s father really, not Justin. But, sometimes, in his mannerisms, the way he talked, the way he smiled, Justin was SO much like Jeremy it was weird. But then, Justin was Jeremy’s adopted father, kind-of. Jeremy must have really loved him. Billy T. certainly did.

To his surprise, he soon found that he loved the old lady too. Kathleen Reynolds was just an old sweetheart really. Underneath her gruff exterior, she was a really, really nice old lady. Billy adored her and so did all the rest of his family. Even the Carvers and the Mathiesons had adopted her as the matriarch of their families.

He had his granddads and his great, great grandmother and all the rest – the host of uncles and aunties and the cousins – dozens of cousins! The Reynolds, the Carvers, the Mathiesons, the Sheridans and all the others. Every day he seemed to meet even more cousins.

They were cool. They were family and they were friendly – but. There was always the ‘but’. They were a sporty lot on the whole, they were all close and comfortable with each other, and they’d known each other all of their lives. Billy was new. He was welcomed, but he was different.

Was he the only gay teenager in this whole town? In the midst of this big, this huge, loving family, Billy was lonely still. He guessed that he always would be.


JH was resigned to his fate. For better or for worse, he was stuck here now; he had nowhere else to go. His grandparents had gone and died on him. First his grandmother and then just a couple of weeks later, his grandfather. His father was all that he had left.

Jon was okay really, for a queer. He was a nice guy and they were getting on well – really well. Even the white hair didn’t look so bad on him. Maybe JH would get used to his own. He’d stopped wearing the wig, but he had his hair cut really short, almost shaved.

He still didn’t understand how a gayboy had come to be his father. Apparently, his mother used to ‘sleep’ with both of them, but DNA tests had shown that Jon was his father. His grandparents had never wanted to talk about that. They didn’t like queers either. Apparently his mother did.

There was another, more compelling reason why he’d stopped wearing the wig. With its straight, black hair and the jagged, pointy fringe that he’d always preferred, he looked far too much like Bobby Lyons when he was wearing it. That was weird!

JH hadn’t met Bobby yet. He’d prefer it if he never did. However, he knew what he looked like – he knew exactly what Bobby looked like. The apartment was full of photos of him; they were everywhere except in JH’s own room. They were all put away when he was at home, but when he was not there, Jon liked to have them around. JH, almost, could envy them their obvious closeness after all these years, but – yuck!

There was one picture that, apparently, was never taken down. It was a painting done from an old photograph taken when they were teens. It showed Jon sitting in a chair with Bobby and his brother Billy hanging over his shoulders and all three of them laughing. Billy was the brother who died, not long after that pic was taken. He was Bobby’s twin.

Anyway, in the black wig, JH definitely did look, sort-of, like Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t so weird; Jon and Bobby were, after all, some sort of distant cousins. The original JH Williamson, old James Hargreaves, was umpteen times, great grandfather to both of them.

The other, scary, thing was that Jon told him that there was a chance, a very slim chance, that it was actually Bobby who was his father. The timing was right, they had all ‘slept’ together and DNA tests were not 100% reliable. Scary. He didn’t want to think about that. JH stopped wearing the wig anyway. He’d put up with the white hair from now on.

He found that he had cousins. Jon got them to come around and introduced them to JH – two girls, (sweet!), and three boys, all teenagers. They weren’t really, actual cousins, (or were they?), they were Bobby’s nieces and nephews, his brother and sister’s kids.

They all went to Westpoint Technical Highschool where he’d be going soon, so JH made an effort. He didn’t really like them all that much, but they were okay. At least they’d be a start – some kids to hang with when he had to go to school.

One of the boys though, he was having nothing to do with! Justine’s 15 year old son, Anthony, was a right little fairy. He was SO gay, JH had no doubts about that and it gave him the creeps the way he kept watching him when he thought he wasn’t looking. Yuck!

He suspected that the kid was queer, and then one day he found out for sure. JH went to the pools for a swim, he loved swimming and the heated pools were great; much better than the cold sea across the road. Besides, it was a good place to check-out the semi-naked chicks.

It was still quite early when he arrived and the place was quiet. He went into the changing-room to shed his clothes and no-one else was in there, which was cool. The open-fronted cubicles in there just had half-doors, just enough to cover the naughty bits if you were shy, which he was.

He was about to go out to the pools, when he heard a noise – a sort of a shuffle and a moan. It came from a cubicle a couple along from his own, so he went that way to leave the room by the other door. It didn’t hurt to know what was going on, like who was doing what, and he was going out anyway. And, yes, he was curious. Queers were disgusting, but they still intrigued him, so he walked along quietly in his bare feet and looking into each cubicle along the way.

They were in the third cubicle – a pair of semi-naked teenage boys were in there, leaning against the back-wall and cuddled close together. They both had the same overly-long bleached-blond hair, one arm each around the other’s naked back and one hand groping inside the other’s swimming trunks.

Their eyes were closed as they kissed, French-kissed, and both were making little satisfied groaning noises. Their open legs and their slender bodies rubbed together. JH stopped and stared with his mouth hanging open. He should have been disgusted, but he wasn’t – he was fascinated. These guys were so getting into it and they were hot! It was the hottest thing that he’d seen in his life

Bloody queers! Well, they weren’t getting him.

It was only as he walked away, adjusting his own swimming trunks, (things were happening down there that should NOT have been happening!), that JH realised that one of those two was his ‘cousin’, Anthony. He knew it!

They were still kissing. He thought that they hadn’t seen him, but as he walked away, one pair of blue eyes was watching him go.

‘Bite me, JH. Williamson!’


Billy saw much the same thing later that same day.

There was yet another party going on, up on the 20th floor of the New Adelphi; the living/dining/entertaining level. The bedrooms were all on the 19th floor, but the living was done up on the 20th.

This level was also cut neatly in two by the dividing wall, separating Justin & Billy’s and Jonathan’s apartments, but when they had a ‘family party’, as they seemed to be always doing, the wall was opened up, combining the two big living rooms into one huge one.

These affairs were pretty tame parties really, no-one got smashed. No alcohol and no drugs at all were allowed. They were just family dinner parties really – huge family dinner parties with music, eating and talking – lots of talking. His granddads’ brothers were there too – Peter and Jay and Daniel and Tony and their wives. He’d met them before, but it was a long time ago.

That night’s party was to celebrate the end of the holidays and the resumption of school. (Pretty strange thing to celebrate, but some of the adults seemed to be delighted).

Granddad Billy had said that there was no need for Billy to go to school. They could get him a tutor, or two, or three. Billy wasn’t having that! He wanted to go to school, where the people were. Granddad Justin said he could understand that.

So, tomorrow, he was going to go to school. Kathleen would take him, in the morning, to enroll in Westpoint Technical Highschool. This was an old family tradition. She always took her grandchildren to enroll them in the schools. Nobody said ‘no’ to Kathleen Reynolds.

Tonight they were celebrating, some more enthusiastically than others. By about 10.30pm, Billy had had enough. He was tired and it would be a big day tomorrow, so he said a quiet ‘goodnight’ to Kathleen and his granddads and slipped away to bed.

No, he didn’t want a hand to get to bed. He wasn’t useless, didn’t they know? They knew that; they just loved him. He knew that too. He kissed and hugged them both and went off, smiling, to bed. He loved his granddads, he loved all of his family. So why did he still feel lonely?

Billy went down in his own personal elevator, (descender?), which delivered him into his bedroom. He didn’t bother turning on the lights. The room was well-lit by the full moon outside.

He picked up the remote from the cabinet by his bed, turned around to close the drapes, and stopped short. There, outside, silhouetted in the moonlight, he could see two of his cousins – two of his boy cousins – and they were making out!

15yo Carl Sheridan and 14yo Peter Reynolds were out there, wrapped around each other and kissing passionately. They were on the quiet, dark, west-side balcony outside Billy’s room. Wow!
He sat quietly watching the show. Their mouths were locked together, their legs were intertwined and their crutches thrusting and rubbing as their hands clutched at each other’s bodies. Wow.

He shouldn’t have been watching them, spying on them, like this. He knew that. But they didn’t know, they were oblivious to everything except each other and he was fascinated. He felt like crying, stupidly sorry for himself. He SO wanted someone to love him like that.

With a deep sigh, Billy lifted the remote and closed the drapes. He didn’t know it, but the motion caused the two outside to jump apart, guiltily. Which was silly, they weren’t doing anything wrong.

Westpoint Tales - JH Williamson & Billy T. Carver, 3

Next morning, early, two boys woke in their separate beds in two sleeping households.

Billy quietly got out of bed, showered and dressed himself. With the remote control, he opened the floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall, beige coloured drapes and uncovered the glass wall behind. A touch of another button opened the double sliding doors and he rolled out on to the glass-roofed balcony outside.

There was a bit of a cold breeze, but, what a view! From his high vantage point on the 19th floor of the tall tower of the New Adelphi, it was almost like looking down from a plane.

To the south, his left, he could see the rock-walls of the tiphead with the wide river in between. The long, sprawling, suburb of Carvers’ Beach lay beyond them, reaching all the way around the bay to the old cement works at the Cape.

To his right, the view was obstructed by the wall that divided his granddads’ home from his Great-Uncle Jonathan’s mirror-image home on the other side, but he could still see the bush-clad hills in the distance as the bay curved around there.

Directly in front, beyond the waist-high safety-wall, he could see the long, gray, North Beach stretched out like a map below him. But what he could mostly see was the sea. The gray-green-blue Tasman Sea with its white-crested waves rolling in to crash on the beach, and the mirror-image clouded sky above it. Several dark bands of rain were out by the horizon and the whole picture was spectacular.

“Good Morning, Light of My Life.”

Billy turned and grinned at his Granddad Billy. “Good morning, Granddad. Sleep well?”

“Like a log, Billy. There’s nothing like getting home to your own bed. How about yourself?”

“Oh yes. It’s just so good to be here at last.”

“It’s great to have you here at last.”

They exchanged grins again, and then Billy stepped forward and touched a big button on the safety wall, then another to the right, and another. Three panels of armour-glass slid up to close the gap between the low wall and the roof above.

“That’s better. We don’t want you catching a chill on your first morning here.”

“Woo-who. I didn’t know they did that. Thanks Granddad, but I’m not fragile you know. I’m pretty normal, I just can’t walk.”

“I know you’re not fragile, Son. I just like taking care of you. So, what do you think of it so far?”

“The Adelphi? It’s great. What a great place to live; and this view, it’s terrific – spectacular!”

“Yeah. We like the New Adelphi. It is a great place. So it should be, it cost a bloody fortune! Your parents designed it you know. They did a good job, but then, they always did. If you think this view is good, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Come and see what’s around the other side.”

Billy followed him around the balcony to the south and out on to the east side. This side was also divided by the wall of Jonathan’s apartment, but – wow! Below and before them was the newer suburb of North Beach. Straight ahead the long, straight, Derby Street led the gaze, like an arrow up into the older town.

Sunlight broke through the clouds and lit up the town. The long streets stretched out below them. The north-south streets of the square grid, ran from the old wharves by the river across to the smaller Williamson River to the north. The east-west streets ran parallel to the river, back through the town towards the green farmland and the bush-clad hills to the east. Westpoint looked like a glowing animated map, like a miniature fairyland before them.

“Like it?” Billy asked the entranced boy.

“Oh, yes! This is just great – wonderful!”

“Yeah, we like it,” Billy grinned. “It was Justin who insisted on building out here. I couldn’t see why at first, but now I do. Justin loves the beach, he loves Westpoint. So do I. It’s all good.”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” the boy replied. “I love it already. But, where is Granddad Justin? Is he still in bed?”

“Still in bed? On his first morning home? Not likely! Justin’s been gone for ages, he’s out running.”

“My granddad’s out running? That’s radicool.”

“Yep. Justin’s always loved to run. He’s not as fast as he used to be, but he still loves it. There he is there – coming down Derby Street. Come inside where it’s warm, Son. I’ll get some breakfast started. Are you hungry?”

“Granddad, I’m a growing boy. I’m ALWAYS hungry.”


On the south side of the river, in Carver’s Beach, JH walked out onto the imitation-wood deck outside his second-floor bedroom. He stretched, yawned and frowned at the gray day out there.

“Bloody West Coast – always raining!”

He looked up and down the road below him. To the south, the grubby old cement works huddled at the end of the bay. To the north were the airport, the river, and then the town of Westpoint.

“Bloody old dump.”

One single white and glass skyscraper towered over the North Beach.

‘That must be where those Reynolds people live in their precious ‘New Adelphi’. Skiting pricks, showing off their money. And they’re queers, most of them. So, what have we got here?”

There was a wide sidewalk on this side of the road, almost as wide as the road itself. He couldn’t see all of it as the balcony reached out across it. Over on the other side there was a narrower sidewalk between the road and the wide, gray, beach. A few early-morning runners and swimmers were dotted around the scene.

‘Probably bloody queers too.’

JH looked over the edge of the balcony, it wasn’t far to the tiles below, so he climbed over the railing, lowered himself down and dropped. Easy. Billy’s Burgers was open for business, but he wasn’t interested. He didn’t do junk food. Roller-bladers and Hover-boarders were gliding along the sidewalks. He hadn’t seen those things in years.

There was a bench seat across the road, under a fake palm tree and at the top of steps leading down to the beach. He wandered across there and sat, looking back at the building that he’d come out of.

What had the cop called it? Oh, yeah, ‘the complex.’ ‘The whole complex.’ There was a continuous line of buildings with one long verandah/balcony running the whole length of the block from one side street to the next.

Billy’s Burgers was on the North end, some small surf-side shops, (ice-creams and amusements and stuff), and then the big ‘Carver’s Beach Hall’ separated by an alleyway from the equally big Sports and Leisure Centre. Then there were more two-storied shops, apartments above, and a big bar and café on the corner with seats and tables sprawled outside.

Apparently, there was a supermarket and a covered shopping mall down the alley, an aquarium, covered, heated swimming pools – both fresh and salt-water, and spas around the back. The office and entry to the Westpoint/ Carver’s Beach Holiday Park, (motels and cabins), was up the side street behind Billy’s Burgers.

It was all quite new and modern looking, sort-of a California/ Americana look about the place. There was even a hot-dog shop there. His father’s apartment up there wasn’t huge, but it was not too bad. Modern. If he was the boss of all that then he must be doing all right for himself, but why did he have to live ‘on the job’?

The cop said that his father managed it, so he didn’t own it all. Still, pretty cool. Unless, maybe that was just a fancy way of saying that he was the custodian? No. One person couldn’t clean all of that.

The sun came out and everything looked much better than it had. A couple of hot-looking girls rolled past him and they both smiled. Their long legs and their pert little bums were working as they pushed the roller-blades along. Oh, yes! JH decided that he might quite like living in Westpoint.

He frowned at the sight of a couple of queers walking along the beach behind him. They were older, teenage guys, about 18 or 19, both with long dark hair and dressed in similar clothes. They were barefoot on the sand, holding their shoes in one hand and holding hands with the other.

Holding hands! In public, where anyone could see them! They walked along the beach, chatting and laughing and none of the people around took any notice of them at all. JH did, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Bloody Queers!

He hated them, but they fascinated him too. They were so open and they looked to be enjoying themselves. They looked to be good friends, close and comfortable with each other. Bloody queers!

But, still . . He could be honest with himself, couldn’t he? JH was lonely. He’d never had a real friend, a best friend. He felt like he’d been alone all of his life. He hadn’t, of course, but he’d never had a real friend. He’d been lonely for, like, forever.

He envied those two – envied their obvious closeness. He envied them, but, yuck! He hated them. Bloody queers, they shouldn’t be allowed!

“James. James!”

He looked around and groaned. His father was outside, standing and waving on the balcony, calling out to him. But, that wasn’t the problem – it was his clothes! Jon was dressed all in white, with a string-tie even, (which just looked silly with the black pearl on its golden chain that he always wore around his neck). His white hair stood out around his head. All he needed was a hat and he’d look like Colonel Bloody Saunders already! Embarrassing.
He stood up and made a small wave back. Anything to shut him up. Thank goodness that nobody knew him here. He went back over the road, through Billy’s Burgers, and up to join his father in his apartment. (His Father!)

Westpoint Tales - JH Williamson & Billy T. Carver, 2

On the other side of town, on the North Beach, there was another new arrival in Westpoint that day. Accompanied by his two doting grandfathers, Billy Carver came home to a town that he hardly remembered and barely recognized.

There had been a lot of changes in Westpoint, apart from the main street which had hardly changed at all. Billy didn’t remember much of even what hadn’t changed. It had been a long time since he had lived there. Well, 8 years, but that’s a long time when you’re only 14 years old. A very long time.

He remembered his grandfathers though; they’d never been strangers to him. There had always been regular visits and contact throughout his life, and he adored them both. His grandfathers, Justin and Billy, were still as close and loving a couple as they had been all those years ago when they were no older than Billy was now.

Billy loved his granddads and they loved him too; how could they not? He was their only surviving grandson after all. Justin wasn’t really his grandfather, only Billy was really – biologically; but he made no difference between them. There was no difference. Billy loved both of his granddads and he knew that they loved him, even though he was crippled and gay.

The latter wouldn’t be an issue, they were gay themselves. Everybody knew that. One day he would tell them that he was gay too, but he suspected that they already knew – they just hadn’t talked about it yet.

Billy had had a lot of drama and a lot of trauma in his life. Far too much for any young boy to have lived through. His parents had already separated and were on their way through a bitter divorce when he lost his father, Jeremy, in a horrific car smash. The same crash had mangled his legs and left him stuck in a wheelchair, crippled for life at 7 years old.

Despite the best medical care that money could buy, Billy was still a paraplegic with no motion, no feelings at all in either of his useless legs. Over the years since the accident, his legs had been practically rebuilt and they now looked as good as new, there wasn’t even any scar tissue left, but they still didn’t work.

It was generally agreed that his problem must be psychosomatic, in his mind, and he’d had years of psychiatric counseling, but his legs still didn’t work.

Even Billy agreed that the problem must go back to the car smash and his having to watch his beloved father, and his younger brother, die on the side of the road. But no-one had been able to untangle the knots in his head and his legs didn’t work.

Some time after that, he had lost his other grandparents, his mother’s parents, when they both died from some disease that they had contracted overseas. He missed them, but if he had to lose some grandparents, he was glad it was them and not Justin and Billy. He’d never been that close to his other grandparents anyway.

And now, just a few short months ago, he’d lost his mother and his sister when they were killed in a bloody plane-crash. They were on a sight-seeing flight, without him as he hadn’t wanted to go. Flying up an alpine valley, the plane had hit aerial wires and smashed into the hillside, killing everyone on board instantly.

That was the only consolation that he could draw from the accident – it was quick. They must never known what hit them, or rather, what they’d hit.

Now his granddads had brought him home to Westpoint, to live with them. They were the only close family that he had left, but he had a lot of relatives around here. If anything happened to Justin and Billy, he’d die, he just knew that he would. But they were still, relatively, young – they looked young – and they were in the best of health.

Justin’s ancient grandmother still lived with them in their North Beach penthouse apartment. Kathleen Reynolds, nee Adams, widowed years ago, was now 93 years old, but you’d never know it. She was still as fit and as fiery as ever. Billy was more than a little frightened of her, but that was silly. She was just an old, old lady and she was his great-great-grandmother, sort-of.

Some of his cousins, his boy cousins, were HOT, but none of them seemed to be gay though. Dammit. Not that anyone would be interested in a cripple in a wheelchair anyway; but he could look and dream. Everything else down there worked just fine, it was just the legs that were useless.

Money was one thing that Billy would never have to worry about. Even without the fortune that he stood to inherit from his grandfathers, (not that he wanted that and provided that they hadn’t already given it away), he was already wealthy in his own right. Or, he would be when he was old enough to take control of the trust-funds. Both of his parents were well off, they were architects, and they were both well insured.

His parents had designed and built the New Aldelphi, the complex that the whole family lived in now, on the North Beach. So, he was wealthy, but he would rather have had his family.

Despite his advantages and disadvantages, despite all the blows that life had dealt him, it was generally agreed that Billy Carver was a ‘sweet kid’; he was one of life’s genuine nice guys. He was handsome – he’d inherited the Carvers’ fiery red hair, milky white skin and sky-blue eyes, and he was unbowed, uncomplaining, quietly charming and personable and just a ‘damm nice kid.’

He was full of chatter, sometimes, and he often laughed or smiled, but just not completely, not with his eyes. There was an air of sadness about him, and no wonder. Both of his grandfathers agreed that the old song fitted Billy – ‘To Know Him is to Love Him.’ Now he had come home to live with them, in Westpoint.

They arrived and were welcomed by Kathleen, by his granddad Justin’s twin, his great-uncle Jonathan and all of his aunts, uncles and cousins. There was quite a crowd! Eventually, Kathleen chased them all out, (“The boy’s been traveling all day, he’s tired and he needs his rest. Go home!’), and they all retired for the night.

Justin and Billy both went with him to his newly-prepared bedroom; Justin lifted him out of the chair and laid him on the bed.

“You don’t have to do that, Granddad. I can get in and out of the chair. I can dress myself even.”

“I know that, Darling Boy. I just wanted to sneak a bit of a cuddle really.”

“Granddad, you can cuddle me any time you like.”

“And me?” Billy asked, smiling.

“Yes, of course you too. I love you, Granddads.”

“We love you too. Very much.”

“Welcome to your new home, Billy. We hope that you’ll be happy here.”

“I’m sure I will. Thank you and goodnight, Granddads.”

Westpoint Tales - J.H.Williamson & Billy T. Carver, 1

(Westpoint, 2045AD)

Midnight in Westpoint. A cold and dark, wet and windy midnight. Senior Constable Lucas Sheridan looked at the clock and sighed. Time to check-out the main street again.

He turned to the screen and ‘fired-up’ the computer. This old thing was ancient, but at least it was better than going out in the weather. Thank God for computers and security cameras on cold and wet nights in Westpoint.

Coffee in one hand, controller in the other, he idly scrolled through the images coming in from the pole-mounted cameras along the main street.

“Ho humm, same old same old. But, wait – what was that?”

He back-tracked a couple of cameras and there, standing under the shelter outside P.J’s Music Centre, where the local musos hung out, was a kid. Black boots, black clothes and black hair. A smallish, young, teenage boy. He would’ve weighed about 50 kilos sopping wet, and he was – really wet.

What was he doing, out so late in the rain? He seemed to be studying a map and Lucas could see that he was shivering as he stood there.

“Oh, you poor little bugger. How can we make it better for you?”

He got up from his warm office and went out into the night. In the Police-marked patrol car, he drove around to the main street and silently glided along to the Music Centre.

“Hey kid. How’s it going there?”

The boy nearly jumped out of his skin when Lucas called out to him.

“Whoah. You startled me. Are you a copper?”

“Well I’m in trouble if I’m not. Yeah, I’m a copper. What are you doing out on a night like this? Are you looking for someone?”

“I am actually. Jon Williamson. Do you know him?”

“Yeah, of course I know Jon. It’s a small town. What would you be looking for him for?”

“I just want to see him. Jon Williamson is my father.”

“Jon’s your dad? Wow! The years are flying past. You must be James; I remember when you were born. It seems like just yesterday.”

“It is a small town. I wasn’t born yesterday, it was 14 years ago and, yes, my name is James, but I don’t use it much. I’m called JH.

“J. H. Williamson? Fine then, JH. Hop in the car, it’s warmer in here. I’ll take you to your dad’s place. He lives out at Carvers’ Beach.”

“No. It’s okay, I can walk. Where is this Carvers’ Beach?”

“Kid, Carver’s Beach is about 4K out of town. That’s too far to walk in the dark and the rain. Get in the car and I’ll take you there in about 5 minutes.”

“No, she’s right. I’d just get your car all wet. I can walk.”

“It’s a Police car. It has had a lot worse than a wet kid in it. C’mon, get in or I’ll arrest you.”

“Arrest me? What for? I’m not doing anything.”

“Sure you are. You’re standing out there freezing your butt off. I’m just kidding you. Come on, Boy, get in the car while I’m feeling like being nice.”

“Okay. I will then, thanks.”

The kid smiled, a killer smile – all white teeth and sunshine. (‘Yeah, you’re Jon’s kid all right!’)

“Does your dad know you’re coming?” Lucas started the car and headed off to Carver’s Beach.

“Not unless he’s a mind reader. I haven’t told him.”

“It’ll be a surprise then. He’s going to be delighted to see you.”

“I hope so. I don’t know him; I don’t think I’ve ever met my father.”

“If you haven’t, it’s not for the want of trying on his part.”

“You think? I didn’t think he ever bothered about me.”

“You think? What about the court case then? Do you know about that?”

“Court case? What court case? I’ve never been in trouble with the law and I’ve never been to court.”

“Maybe you’ve never been in trouble, but you’ve been in court all right. When you were just a little baby, you spent weeks, months, in and out of law courts. Didn’t you know that?”

“I did? No-one told me anything about that. What was I in court for? Was I guilty?”

“Yeah, you were guilty all right. Guilty of being a really cute baby, with no mum, who everybody wanted. After your mother died, of a drug overdose, there was a huge court case to decide who got custody of you.

You were already living with your mother’s parents. They won and your father lost as the court decide not to give custody to a couple of young gay-boys. I remember the case well. My brother – or brother-in-law really, Bugs is my wife’s brother and he and his partner, John, were the lawyers for your dad. They lost.”

“Good job too.”

“What do you mean, good job?”

“Good job that they lost and my grandparents won. I wouldn’t have wanted to grow up with a couple of old queers. I hate queers.”

“Oh, do you now? I’d keep my mouth shut about that around here, if I was you.”

“Why? You’re not one of them, are you?”

“No,” Lucas laughed. “I’m not one of ‘them’. I’ve got a wife and five kids and umpteen grandchildren. I’m not gay, but your dad is and he’s well liked and respected around here. I’ve got several brothers-in-law who are gay and they’re well liked too. My best friend is gay, I’m not but I still love him.”

“Oh. Westpoint’s full of queers, is it?”

“No it’s not full of them, but there’s a few gays around. They’re just people like everyone else, except for that one thing.”

“Pretty bloody big thing! Well, I don’t like them.”

“Oh – kay. Maybe they don’t like you either. Probably they don’t.”

“Good job too.”

At the end of the main street, Lucas turned right, onto Embankment Road, Westpoint’s mini-motorway. He drove out, through the suburb of North Beach, heading for the old Shingle Beach.

“Hey!” JH said. “Where are we going? This is not the way to Carver’s Beach. I saw the signs when I was walking down to the bridge at the other end of town. Carver’s Beach is out there, on the other side of the river.”

“It is. Don’t worry, JH, we’re going there. This is the other way, the short-cut out to Carver’s Beach.”

“Short-cut? There’s no other bridges. I know that too. I could see all the way down the river from the bridge.”

“You’re right. There are no other bridges, but there is this here.”

Around the corner, the road sank down and under the concrete abutment of a large, brightly-lit tunnel under the river. They plunged down, into and through the almost empty tunnel and in seconds were up and out on the south side of the river.

“And, welcome to Carver’s Beach.”

“Wow! Pretty cool. This place is big for a suburb, and it’s more modern too.”

“Yeah, it is. This is one of the newest areas of town and it’s still growing too. It is not as big as it looks, it’s only 3 or 4 streets wide, but it’s getting bigger all the time. The suburb will be bigger than the old town soon. And, here we are. You’ll find your dad in there.”

“In here? You mean he works for Billy’s Burgers? Wow, he’s a great success story isn’t he? What a role model! And he’s not my ‘dad’, he’s just my biological father.”

“Okay, whatever, your father then. He is a good role model. You could do a lot worse. Jon doesn’t just work here, he’s the boss. He manages Billy’s Burgers and all the rest of this whole complex – the Burger Palace, the hall, the shopping mall, the sports and leisure centre, the heated pools and the entire holiday park.

A policeman’s wages are not too bed, but I’d gladly trade what I get for a quarter of what Jon makes.”

“He’s doing all right then? Does he still live with that Lyons creature?”

“Yes, Jon still lives with Bobby Lyons, when he’s home. Bobby travels a lot in his job. He’s a world-class musician, you know. Westpoint’s rather proud of Bobby Lyons and of Jon Williamson too.”

“If you say so. Well, thanks for the ride, Copper.” He got out and pulled out his pack from the back-seat. “See you around.”

“You probably will. Like I said, it’s a small town. JH, give your father a chance, okay? He’s a nice guy, they both are. Good people.”

“If you say so, we’ll see. ‘Bye, Mr. Plod.”

“I do say so. Goodbye, JH.’

Lucas drove away and left him standing there in the rain.

‘You’d be a hard person to like, I think, JH Williamson.’


Carrying his backpack in one hand, JH pushed open the glass door. (‘No auto door openers? Primitive!’) He walked into the Billy’s Burgers.

There was a large spacious dining room to the right, but it was in darkness, the only light in there was from the glass wall which looked out to the sidewalk, the road and the beach beyond. The counter area was brightly lit, the décor much the same as a Billy’s Burgers anywhere. Not that he’d had a lot to do with them, but he’d seen a few.

There were no customers in and no staff in sight until a tall blonde-haired woman backed her way out through the swing doors, bucket and mop in her hands.

“Oh. Hello Lovey. What can we do you for?”

“You what?”

“What can we . . oh, what do you want, Lovey? Burgers?”

“No. No burgers. Nothing else either, I don’t do junk food.”

“Junk food? We don’t do junk food here, this is Billy’s Burgers. Didn’t you read the signs?”

“I read the signs. Billy’s Burgers is still junk food in my book.”

“Your book’s wrong then. How can we help you? Are you lost?”

“I’m not lost, I think. I’m looking for Jon Williamson, is he here?”

“Jon? Yes, of course he’s here. He’s upstairs, sleeping and I’m not going to wake him up. Come back in the morning and you can see him then.”

“Lady, I’m wet, I’m cold and I’m tired. I don’t have anywhere else to go and I want to see my father. Would you please wake him up, ask him if he’ll see me?”

“Your father? Jon’s your father? Are you sure about that? I didn’t know he had any kids.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I am JH Williamson and Jon Williamson is my father.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, wait here – I’ll ring him.”

She retreated into the kitchen , and then returned in a few seconds and beckoned to him.

“Come on then, Mr. JH, through here.”

He followed her through to the back and stood where she indicated on a big round disc on the floor.

“Push the button with your foot and up you’ll go. See you later, Kid.”

“Right. Thanks.”

He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but did as he was told. He nudged the big button in the centre of the disc with his booted foot. A solid, circular, fence rose up around him, the disc rose steadily up from the floor and raised him up to the ceiling.

A round hole opened in the ceiling as he approached it and he rose up and through it. The hole closed, the fence sank back down and he was left standing on the second floor of the building.

The door in front of him and a face – his face – appeared and smiled at him.

“James? Yes, of course you are! Hello, Son.”

A hand came out, JH took hold of it, they shook hands and grinned identical grins at each other.

“Hello, Father.”

They stood, hands still clasped and grinning as they studied each other closely. Jon saw a younger, smaller, version of himself – identical apart from the straight, and wet, black hair. JH saw an older version of himself, and his father had the hair! He had the horrible white-blond, fine and unmanageable hair that had been the bane of his life.

“My Son! It’s so great to see you, James. What a surprise, what a good surprise!”

“Yeah, well. It’s good to see you too. I’ve always wondered what you were really like. All I know is what other people have told me – not so good either, most of it. Nobody told me that you look like me.”

“I don’t look like you,” Jon grinned. “You look like me, just like me, apart from the hair. Ugly little bugger, aren’t you?”

“I might be ugly but I’m not a bugger – no way,” JH replied and he was not grinning. “And as for the hair . . “ His hand went up and he pulled the black wig off to reveal his real hair, his white-blond, fine and wispy hair. “This is me. I hate this bloody hair!”

“Oh, wow. So you have got the hair then. Hair like mine and my father’s and my grandfather’s. You’re a Williamson for sure. Sorry about that.”

“Sorry?” Jon grinned. “Yeah, so you should be. Thanks father.”

“Hey! I couldn’t help it you know. My father gave it to me and his father gave it to him. It goes back for generations. There’s a statue in town, in the Square, of James Hargreaves Williamson. He was you who-knows-how-many times great grandfather. By the look of it, he had the same hair too. Blame him.”

“That’s my name! James Hargreaves. So that’s where it came from.”

“Of course it was. He was a big man in his day. We hoped that you would be too.”

“Sure I will. One day.”

“I’m sure you will, Son, one day. But, for now we’d better get you sorted. You’re cold and wet. Come on in and we’ll get you fixed up. By the way, James, you’re not ugly at all – you’re a fine looking kid.”

JH had a, blissful, long and hot shower, and then, dressed in an old bathrobe and some pjamas of his father’s – dorky-looking but warm. They had a sandwich, a hot drink and a really long talk until late in the night. Finally, Jon got up and announced that it was bedtime. He made-up the bed in his spare room and they retired for the night.

JH, left alone, lay blissfully on the big bed and relaxed. This might not be so bad after all. His father seemed like an OK guy, and he wasn’t that old – late thirties or something. Bobby wasn’t there; he was away overseas somewhere, that was good, but he’d be back soon. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

Westpoint Tales - Jon & Bobby's Tale, 15

(Merry Christmas everyone. May peace, love and happiness reign for you & the ones you love. This is the flower of the Pohutakawa tree - known as the NZ Christmas Tree because it's in flower right now. )

“I’ll say this,” said Bobby turning on his mother. “If anything happens to him, it will be your fault. If he dies, it will be because you killed him! Jon’s done nothing wrong. Nothing at all. I hate you!”

“Whoah, Bobby. There’s no need to talk to your mother like that. You’re upset. Maybe we’ve all said things that we shouldn’t have, but your mother is only trying to do what is right for you.”

“She is not right! You’re wrong. You’re wronger than you’ve ever been in your life!”

“I think you’re right, Bobby. I was wrong and I’m sorry.” Mrs. Lyons got to her feet. “For now, the most important thing is that we have to find Jon and bring him back here.”

The whole family went out and they got in 3 cars, (Justine drove her own), and then they all went across town to the same place – to the Beachhouse. As they went, everyone was looking around, but there was no sign of Jon anywhere.

They stopped and got out at the Beachhouse.

“But he couldn’t have got this far, Dad, could he?”

“I don’t know, Son. I wouldn’t have thought so, but he is a very determined young man, so maybe he did.”

“We’re here now,’ said Billy. “We have to at least go up and look.”

Sherry hadn’t seen him, nor had Jacquie, but she went up to his room to check anyway, just in case. In a couple of minutes, she came back and called down the stairs. “He’s up there.”

They all started up, but Jacquie stopped them. “He’s in his room. He’s lying on the floor, but he says that he’s okay. He is just resting and he’s not coming back down.”

“We’ll just have to go up to him then. For goodness sake, Jacquie, get out of my way. I’m the boy’s doctor, already!”

They all hurried up to his room, but there, they ran into a brick-wall. He was home now and he was staying there. There was no way that he was going back with them. No-one could sway him. Not his doctor’s reasoned arguments, not Mrs. Lyons tearful pleading, not even Billy and Bobby’s begging. Nothing was going to bring him down from his room.

In the end, the only compromise that he would make, was that he agreed to move down and stay in Sherry and Jacquie’s ground-floor apartment. It was not ideal, but they would do their best to look after him.

He was carried down and laid on the bed in their spare room. He was not going anywhere else.

When they were leaving, Billy and Bobby said that they’d come back and see him tomorrow, but he wouldn’t agree to that either, not even when their mother said that she would bring them.

He gave her a strange look, and then said, “No. It’s over. Stay away from me and I’ll stay away from you. I’m leaving for good soon anyway. As soon as I can get rid of this thing I’ll be out of Westpoint and I’m not coming back.

I wish that I’d never come here, this town has been nothing but bad luck for me. Goodbye, Lyons. Thank you and goodbye.”

They went back the next day anyway. Perhaps he would have changed his mind. But he hadn’t, and he was ready for them. He had the door locked and he wouldn’t open it, or talk to them even. They would have liked to have broken it open, and they would have but Sherry wouldn’t let them.

“No, you’re not. It’s my door and you leave it alone. It wouldn’t do you any good anyway, Boys. You’d only make him even more determined. I’ve met some stubborn people in my time, but this boy is in a league of his own.

Just go home and give him some time. Maybe he’ll come around, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

The boys went home, what else could they do? They appealed to their father but he said that there was nothing he could do either.

“As your mother so succinctly put it, Jon is legally an adult. He makes his own decisions and, as long as he’s not breaking any laws, there’s nothing that anyone can do about it. I’m sorry, Boys. I’m really sorry, but whatever you had with Jon is over now.”

On Thursday morning, Mrs. Lyons came back. She apologized to him through his locked door and appealed to him to, at least, talk to the boys. They were devastated and she was worried about them. He wouldn’t even answer her.

Sherry stood there. She assured Mrs. Lyons that, “Yes, he’s in there,” and “No, you’re not breaking the door down either.”


On Thursday evening, Justine came to the Beachhouse and Sherry let her into Jon’s room.

“Go away, Justine. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Shut up, Jon,” Sherry interrupted. “Shut up and listen. Justine has got some bad news – some dreadful news.”

“You family is nothing to do with me now.”

“Shut up, Jon,” Justine burst out. “Shut the fuck up! Billy is dead,” she cried.

“He what? He can’t be!”

“He is. Billy’s dead. There was an accident. A horrible bloody accident. They were fooling around on the town bridge, walking on top of the handrails, Billy slipped and fell off and landed on the rocks. He died a few minutes ago in the hospital.”

“Billy?” He whispered. “Oh, no! Billy!” He wailed. He flopped back on the bed and lay there crying quietly.

“Well, are you coming? I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“No, I don’t think so. Thank you for coming and telling me. I wish you didn’t have to.”

“What do you mean, you don’t think so? You have to come – Bobby needs you there.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’ve already said goodbye. Go back to your brother, it’s you he needs, not me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Bobby needs you!”

“No he doesn’t. You are his sister, his family. I’m just the neighbourhood pedophile, remember?”

“Go to hell, you heartless prick!” Justine stormed out and slammed the door behind her. She didn’t come back. Jon lay staring at the ceiling.

“Jon,’ said Sherry, breaking the silence. “Are you all right?”

“I’m all right. Thank you, Ma’am.”

“I’m going to leave you now. I’ll just be in the next room. If you want to, when you want to – call me and I’ll take you to your friend at the hospital. I really think that you should, Jon.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, but no. I cannot do that.”

Thursday night passed. Friday, then Saturday came and went. Jon stayed in his bed and cried constantly. He had a lot of people come to see him, but he wouldn’t see anyone. Bobby came once. He got as far as the front door, and then he chickened out. He turned and, sadly, walked back home.

The funeral was on Sunday, in the Anglican Church. Jon went there, alone and on foot. He stayed outside the church, leaning against the wall and crying on his crutches.

As soon as the service was over, he left, even before Billy’s family came out following the coffin. As the hearse was being loaded, Bobby stood with his tear-filled eyes, watching Jon slowly swing away up King Street on his crutches. Then, he had to go to the cemetery to bury his brother.

The funeral tea was in the hospital social rooms. They all looked around for him, but Jon was not there. Afterwards, the Lyons family drove home. Their house was all in darkness, but not quite all. The lights were on up in the boy’s bedroom.

Dr. Lyons and his two brothers went up to check the room, and then came back down. He was smiling as he told Bobby that he should go up to his room now.

Bobby, still not quite with-it, simply went and did what his father told him to. He went up, opened the door and stopped – short.

Jon was in there, hanging on his crutches and leaning against the far wall. Bobby looked back down at his dad, at the foot of the stairs. He nodded, smiled sadly, and went into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Jon. You came back.”

“I had to, Bobby. I tried to stay away, but I had to come back.”

“Jon. Oh, Jon!! Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. I need you. I love you, Jon.”

I love you, Bobby. I’m not leaving. I don’t care what anyone says, I’ll stay here as long as you need me to.”

Bobby went to him. He hugged him and cried on his shoulder. He kissed him and then he cried some more. Backing off, he looked into the green eyes, and whispered.

“You do realise, don’t you? You’ve just made a lifetime commitment.”

“I know that, Bobby. I know that and I want that too.”

Next morning, Bobby came down and made two breakfasts. He loaded up the tray and carried it back to his room. His parents both followed him up there.

Bobby sat next to Jon, in his bed, he looked defiantly back at his parents, daring them to say one wrong word.

Dr. Lyons walked over and held out his hand. When Jon took it, he said, “Thank you, Jon. Thank you for coming back for Bobby.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I had to come back. I had to and,” he looked at Mrs. Lyons. “and I’m staying here. I am not leaving.”

She smiled and came over to the bed. “You’re not, are you? You’re not leaving.”

She took something out of her pocket and slipped the golden chain over his messy hair, dropping it to hang around his neck. “Billy would want you to have this. We want you to have this.”

He just nodded, flashed a quick smile and looked down at the black pearl lying on his bare chest. “Thank you.”

Mr. and Mrs. Lyons turned to go, but, as they were leaving the room, she turned back. “There’s no hurry, Boys, but when you’re ready, I’d like you to come uptown with me. There’s someone that I want Jon to meet and they really want to meet you too.”

Bobby sat holding Jon’s hand. “Who do you want him to meet, Mum?”

“They arrived back in town last night. Justine and Billy’s namesakes.”

“Superboy?”

“Yes, of course. Superboy and his Billy.”


(And that’s the final of Jon & Bobby’s Tale. The next one up is the last serial, and it’s my favourite one of the lot of them.

In the meantime – have a great Christmas!)