Meanwhile, Back in Westpoint - Heroes, 1

If you think this is confusing - you should see inside my head!

(For Lloyd).

Westpoint AD2045

Midnight in Westpoint. The town lay sleeping peacefully, it had been a busy day- the first day of the working week and of another school year. Almost of the people lay sleeping; almost, but not quite all. Several boys lay awake, reliving the events of the day.

Billy T lay in his bed high above the North Beach. His eyes looked out at the moon but, in his mind’s eye, he saw the smiling face of a beautiful boy. His name was JH Williamson, and he was the son of Jon Williamson, who was a friend of his granddads’.

There must be some way that he could use that, but how? Even if he got the granddads to get Jon around for a meal, and bring his son with him, he just knew what would happen then. They would get lost in the crowd, again. There was always so many people in and out of here it would be just as bad as it was at school and he wouldn’t get to talk to him, again.

It was a bugger to be shy and totally lacking in confidence, but that’s the way he was.

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His name was Billy T Carver. He was small for a teenager, but he must be one, he was in the Highschool, wasn’t he? He was a skinny little crippled kid in a wheelchair, and he was the most beautiful person that JH had seen in his life. The kid was flat-out gorgeous and he had the most incredible smile.

They hadn’t spoken more that 2 or 3 words, but JH had no doubt at all, he was in love with the boy. And that was just impossible. Wasn’t it? Yes, of course it was – impossible.

Loving a boy like that went against everything that JH had been raised to believe. His grandparents , who had raised him, were good, decent, Christian people and they knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that homosexuality was a sin and homosexuals were an abomination before the Lord.

The Lord hated queers and so too should every god-fearing person. What they did was disgusting and they were to be despised. And yet – he loved him. He couldn’t, but he did.

Even if he could overcome the beliefs and conditioning of a lifetime, (and having seen the boy’s smile, he knew he could), it was still impossible. He was a nothing and a nobody, living on the charity of his father and Billy T was rich – mega rich.

Billy’s Burgers were everywhere; there was hardly a town in the country that didn’t have a Billy’s Burgers in some shape of form. Hell, even the Gypsy Fair, the travelling village of housetrucks and caravans, had one. Billy T Carver was Billy’s Burgers, he owned the lot of them, or his family did, which amounted to the same thing.

One day, they all be all his and, as well as the burgers, there was all the other business interests that his family had – like the Adelphi Tower where they all lived. That included shops, restaurants, offices, a theatre, a high-class hotel and private apartments. His own father worked for the Reynolds family, they owned the complex that he managed.

No, the kid was rich. He’d never be interested in a nobody like JH. And yet – he smiled at him! Why did he smile at him? Was he gay? A lot of his family were, apparently.

That was another thing too, his family. There were dozens of them, hundreds of them – the Reynolds, the Carvers, Mathiesons, Sheridans, Duncans and O’Briens etc. Half of the town seemed to be related to them in some way. Maybe he even was himself; he was descended from James Hargreaves Williamson and, apparently, they all were too.

However, be that as it may, he was not one of them. He was an outsider and a stranger here in Westpoint. They were all a huge, close and supportive family. He’d seen that at school today where they all closed ranks around their cousin and escorted him wherever he went. No perverts would ever get their hands on that boy.

Hello? There was a new thought. Was he a pervert now? Probably. He was impossibly in love with the boy, but could a rich boy love a nobody?

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Actually, he could. Billy T had already decided that he loved the beautiful stranger, but he didn’t know how he was ever going to get to know him. Why would a dream like that ever be interested in a wreck like him? But – he smiled at him!

They had both smiled at each other. He wasn’t laughing at him, was he? The perfect young god didn’t think the cripple was funny did he? No, it couldn’t be like that, it wasn’t that sort of smile. It was a bright, friendly, happy-to-see-you kind of smile. He remembered it well, he’d never forget it.

‘Gorgeous Boy.’

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They met at the school that morning; it was the first day there for both of them. Billy T had just been enrolled by the Secretary, Mr. Tainui, and JH was waiting to do the same. They’d been left alone, in the reception area. They looked at each other, smiled, and fell in love with each other. But they hadn’t got to tell each other that. Well, how would you? ‘Hello, I love you’ won’t you tell me your name?’

They were only alone together for a few minutes and then they got swallowed up in the crowd. The adults came back, Mr. Tainui took JH into the office to enroll him in the school, Mr. Peters took Billy T to his first class, and Grandmother went home.

For the rest of the day, even though they both wanted to, they never got to speak again. Billy T was surrounded by his myriad cousins and JH also had his supporters and was gaining more. He was a good-looking boy, he was new and a novelty in their lives and, also, his name was intriguing. Everyone knew of James Hargreaves Williamson, he was one of the founding fathers of the town.

JH was looking with new eyes at his ‘cousin’ Anthony. He was there, of course, but there was no sign of the boy he’d seen him with. Anthony wasn’t very interested in JH, but everyone else was.

As soon as school was over for the day, Billy T was whisked away, back to the New Adelphi, by his family. One of his granddads was outside the school waiting for him. Disappointed, JH went to the Square to play football with some of his new friends.

Now, late at night, they both lay awake, looking at the moon and ruing the gulf that separated them. They were not the only ones.

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A couple of floors below Billy T, Peter Reynolds lay awake in his bed and he too was feeling frustrated. It was about bloody time Carl stood up to his father and told him to butt-out of his business!

Carl Sheridan senior was being a dork and a dipshit. It was just plain ignorant that, in this day and age, he thought that he could decide that his son was not going to be gay.

If he was braver, he’d tell him himself. “Face it, Mr. Sheridan, Carl is gay, that’s just the way it is. He’s gay, he’s in love with me and I love him too.”

Damm! He wished he could do that; or that Carl would. Somebody had to! They couldn’t go on like they were – hiding in dark corners and stealing moments alone together. It was just madness.

They loved each other and what was wrong with that? Nothing! That’s what. Peter gritted his teeth. Someone was going to have to do something. He would, if he had to, but he’d prefer it was Carl – it was his Father who was the problem. Carl was going to have to do something.

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Carl was going to have to do something; if he didn’t then he might lose Peter and he didn’t want that! He’d never known a time when he didn’t know, and love, Peter. He simply could not imagine his life without him in it.

They started school together, on the same day, and, even before that, they’d always been best friends. At pre-school they were best friends together.

They’d always been physical, even as pre-schoolers they always greeted each other with a hug. They’d always hugged and touched each other and liked to sit close together, often in the same chair, but it was only lately that their relationship had become sexual.

They didn’t know why they’d waited so long, they were both 14 already and it was only natural that they were going to do things together. Carl couldn’t suck his own dick, but Peter could do it for him – and vice-versa.

He loved that boy. He really loved Peter. He didn’t think about it a lot, he just did. That’s the way it was and how it always had been. Peter loved him too, of course he did. He always had and always would too, if they were left alone.

That was the problem; they weren’t being left alone. Carl’s father, Carl senior, was saying that his son could not be gay and that he was to keep his hands off Peter.

Hah! Like that was going to happen! Holding Peter’s dick or having Peter hold his one was as natural as holding his own, and there was no way that he was going to stop doing it. Now that they’d started, having sex with Peter was as natural as, and way better than, doing it to himself. No way was he going to give that up.

Carl didn’t really think of himself as being gay, that was just a convenience, and neither did Peter. They weren’t really gay, they weren’t interested in sex with other boys. Why should they? They had each other, always had and always would. Or, they always would if other people would mind their own business and leave them alone.

Carl loved his father, of course he did. Even when he was being stupid, he loved him. And he was being stupid – totally! There was no way that he was going to stop seeing Peter. He couldn’t do that and he wouldn’t. Carl was going to have to do something.

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Even the longest night comes to an end. Next morning JH was stumbling around, wishing that the night was longer – now he could get some sleep. It was going to be a long day, but at least he’d get to see Billy T again, if only from a distance. That much he had to look forward to.

‘Must be nice in a way – being in a wheelchair. At least you’d get to sit down all day.’

He seriously could not face eating anything. Strong coffee was all he wanted for breakfast.

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Billy T had a good breakfast. His Granddad Billy was an excellent cook. He could see why Justin ran so much; if Billy fed him like this, it was a wonder that he wasn’t as big as a house. Running would deal to the calories.

Great breakfast though. He was going to have to watch the calories himself, cripples got way too fat sometimes. He did NOT want to do that. JH Williamson would never be interested in him if he was a blob. Not that he ever would anyway. Life was not that good.

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They went to school, JH on the bus from Carver’s Beach and Billy T in his chair and surrounded by cousins. They were taking Kathleen seriously – she’d told them all that they had to watch out for him, and so they would.

Billy T smiled to himself. Everyone thought that she was a martinet, but he knew better. She was an old sweetheart really. Anyway, what could she do to them? Chase them up the road?

He arrived at school and saw JH there, but only in the distance. He came off the bus and went straight into the locker room. Billy T sighed as he watched him go. Damm, he was beautiful.

“Hello, got your eye on someone have you, Billy T?”

He looked around at Carl’s smiling face. Maybe Carl would think that his crush was a joke, but it was not. He was in dead earnest here, but he didn’t know what, if anything, he could do about it.

Well, he decided, it wouldn’t hurt to have an ally. Carl was a good guy and he must know what it was like to love a boy, he’d seen him often enough, sneaking away to be with Peter. Plus, he was almost a cousin, wasn’t he? The Sheridan’s all caled Kathleen, ‘Grandmother’.

“Carl, umm, I think I’ve got a problem. Can I talk to you – about personal stuff, I mean?”

“Sure you can. You can talk to me about anything you like, but not now, we’re out of time. I’ll meet you at recess, by the water-fountains out the back. Okay?”

“Thanks. That’ll be great. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay. Laters, Billy T.”

Billy T went to class with another of his cousins – Doris Carver. For some reason, he identified more with his Carver cousins, and there was a lot of them! Of course, the fact that Doris’ hair was exactly the same colour as his own probably helped.

At recess, he went eagerly to the fountains. Carl was already there, waiting for him. There were a couple of others there, but not for long. Carl told them to ‘flake off’; he and Billy T needed to be alone for a bit. Billy T was impressed. He wished that he could be that assertive.

“Okay, alone at last.” Carl sat down on a planter-box, next to him. “What are we talking about?”

“Carl, do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Dunno really. It’s not something I’ve ever experienced.”

“But you do know what it’s like to be in love?”

“Oh yes! I know that all right.”

“I thought you did. You’re in love with Peter.”

“Okay, hold it right there, Sunshine. Peter and I is our business and I’m not talking about it when he’s not here.”

“Okay, okay. Settle. I’m not prying, I’m just saying what I see.”

“What’ve you seen?”

“A lot. I know that you’re a couple, but that’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Cool. What is it then? It must be serious.”

“It is – real serious, for me. Look, Carl, I think I need help. I know you’re not really my cousin, but . .”

“Hold it again. We are cousins, Billy T, real cousins. Realer than a lot of them. Your Granddad Billy and my Gran are brother and sister, didn’t you know that?”

“No, I missed that Relationships are all so damm complicated! Everyone seems to be related around here.”

“Yeah, they are. A lot of them are anyway. You should ask Uncle Marty, he did a family tree a while ago – ask him, he’ll show you.”

“Okay, I just might do that. But anyway, the thing is, there’s this boy. I really, really like him and I’d like to get to know him but I don’t know how to go about it.”

“Are you gay, Billy T?”

“Yes, I’m gay.”

“Cool, me too, I think.”

“I know. Carl, how did you get together with Peter?”

“Well, I’m not much help there either. I’ve always known Peter – always!”

“And you’ve always loved him?”

“Yes, of course. But we’re not talking about Peter. Who are we talking about anyway?”

“You won’t tell anyone?”

“Of course I won’t. Who?”

“Well, JH Williamson actually.”

“JH Williamson? Whoah! Sorry, Kid, but you can do so much better than that. He’s a homophobic prick.”

“Really?”

“Yes really. Anthony said so and he’d know.”

“Anthony?”

“Anthony Lyons. He’s in year 11 and Williamson is his cousin. Actually, he’s your cousin too, and mine. It’s distant but he is related.”

“He’s another cousin?”

“He is. You really need to see that family tree. Ask Marty he’ll send it to you. Email him at canned-heat@hotmail.com. Anyway, he’s a cousin, he’s descended from James Hargreaves Williamson and so are you. So am I, like half the town is.”

“He must’ve been a busy boy then.”

“He only had about four kids, I think, but they had kids and they had kids and on it goes. Anyway, forget JH, he’s a lost cause.”

“But I don’t want to. I can’t! Okay, maybe he’s not gay, but there’s something there, I’m sure there is. Yesterday, I was sitting near him and he smiled at me.”

“You sure he wasn’t laughing at you?”

“I’m sure, it wasn’t like that. I’d be happy to be his friend, but I don’t know how to.”

“I wouldn’t want the prick for a friend, but, okay, you’re not me. I don’t know what to say, Billy T. Look, leave it with me, I’ll talk to Peter and see what he thinks.”

“Thanks, Carl.”

“Not a problem. We’ll do what we can, Cousin.”

Carl went and talked to Peter. He didn’t know what to do either. However, later in the morning he saw JH looking at Billy T, and he thought, ‘Hmm.’

He met Carl at lunchtime, in their usual place. “Carl, you know, maybe it’s not so hopeless, with Billy T and JH Williamson I mean.”

“You think?”

“Yes I do. I just saw JH looking at him and, well, maybe there is a chance. I’m gonna find out – I’ll ask him.”

“Do you think you should? Anthony said that JH is a homophobe.”

“I do think we should. Billy T is family and he’s stuck. JH doesn’t look like he’s anti-gay to me. He was looking at Billy T like he adored him or something. I’m going to ask him, are you coming with me?”

“Peter, I don’t know if we should go sticking our noses in. It’s none of our business.”

“Damm, Carl! It is our business. It’s family and Billy T asked you for help, didn’t he?”

“He was just asking for advice, Peter, and I haven’t got any.”

“No, neither have I, but we can do this. Don’t worry, I’ll be intelligent about it, but I am going to ask him.”

Carl opened his laptop, he was going nowhere. Peter got up and left him. “Later, Carl.”

Kaimoana Tales, 2 - Virgil & Joel

They finished off their meals and went inside to pay the bill. Virgil loaded all their empty plates onto the tray and took them in to the counter. The boy who had served them earlier, took them from him with a smile. “Thanks, Man.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for a good meal.”

“You’re welcome too. Glad you liked it. Call again.”

They exchanged smiles, the boy took the tray out the back and Virgil went out to the front to wait for his mum.

Natasha came back, looked up and down the street, and announced. “Right then. We’ll go for a walk along the seafront – get some fresh air in the lungs.”

“Why bother, Mum? Your lungs are half-full of cigarette smoke anyway.”

“All the more reason to do it then. Come on, Virgil. Walking.”

It took about 20 minutes to walk the main street and along the tree-lined Esplanade to the end of the bay. The beach, below the sidewalk, was small and stony; it consisted of gray pebbles, mostly. There wasn’t much sand. The incoming surf was small and choppy and there were a lot of big rocks sticking up out of the water in the bay.

It was obviously not a great swimming beach, and this was confirmed by the community swimming-pool, built between the sidewalk and the beach. The pool was surrounded by old wooden bench-type seats and there was no roof over it – obviously.

The concrete walls and floor of the pool were painted, of course, but they weren’t the normal swimming-pool blue. This one was green – bright, pale green. If they were trying to match the colour of the sea out there, it didn’t work.

As they walked along the road and back again, Virgil was checking-out the people they saw, especially the males. He was not looking for Joel’s face. (But he was looking anyway).

They got back to the car, got in and went home. Natasha settled down with a bottle of wine and a soppy movie on the TV. Virgil went to his room to watch a decent one on DVD.

Next morning, after breakfast, he decided to go for a walk and scope-out the town. He missed Jimmy. He’d just have to walk without him then. His mother was still sleeping, he didn’t wake her. He figured that it was best to leave sleeping dogs, and mothers, lying.

He left a note on the kitchen table, weighted down with a coffee mug. The note read, ‘Dear Mum, I’ve gone out. Virgil.’

Well, she couldn’t say that he didn’t tell her.

He left the house quietly and walked down to the main street again. He’d seen a visitor information centre across the road from the café, at the end of the carpark. He’d go there and check it out. What better place to find out about the town they were in?

The visitor’s centre was big for a small town. Not that he’d seen a lot of them, but it was big. The walls were mostly covered in photos, posters and pictures of local attractions and history, along with a few maps and lots of tacky souvenirs and touristy crap.

Who in their right mind would be seen dead in one of those gaudy hand-knitted jerseys and things? Certainly not any teenager hoping to keep his credibility.

The service counter was just inside the door and the center of the long room was filled with long racks containing hundreds and hundreds of brochures advertising accommodation and attractions all around the top half of the South Island, arranged in alphabetical order.

He didn’t expect to find any advertising Tiroroa, but there were a couple – one for the camping ground and one for the Bushman’s Café. Hah! He could tell a thing or two about the food in that place! Gross at best. Still, it was nice to see their brochures. Tiroroa had, almost, been his home for a while. It was an okay sort of small town.

There was a large-scale map on the wall showing Kaimoana and the surrounding district. Looking at it gave him an idea and he went to the telephone kiosk at the end of the room, to have a look at the local phone-book.

As far as he knew, Joel was living with Sally’s family, and her family name was ‘Griffin’. There were half a dozen Griffins in the book, so that wasn’t much help. However, there was a listing for Griffin Marine Engineering, so that would be where Joel was working. That was in South Bay, which was a suburb of the town, over at the other side of the hill – to the south, obviously.

He was not going looking for Joel, but it wouldn’t hurt to know where he lived. Then he’d know where to stay away from.

He decided to go to this South Bay, to have a look at the business. Maybe he’d find a clue to tell him where the owner lived.

He had another check of the map, and then headed off, feeling quite proud of his detective work so far. It wasn’t too far to walk – a couple of kilometers. He had all day and nothing else to do with it.

The highway went up and over the hill to South Bay, but there was another way, a back-road climbing up from behind the Esplanade, so he went that way rather than back-track where he’d already come.

On the way along the Esplanade, he passed the girl who he’d seen yesterday, with Sally, but he couldn’t remember her name, so he just smiled, said ‘Hi’ and kept walking.

The back-road joined the highway at the top of the hill and he walked down there, turned left at the bottom and walked along into South Bay. There was a racecourse, with old stables and grandstand etc., just next to the intersection with the highway, and then a couple of blocks of small houses on the left of the road and the sea to the right.

The sea was calm and flat enough at the moment, but it was so close to the road that waves must wash across it at times.

Near the end of the houses, there were a few buildings, mostly big sheds, on the sea-side of the road with a couple of slipways and a small jetty poking out into the water. One of the sheds had a big sign across the front, above the open door, proudly proclaiming, ‘Griffin Marine Engineering’. Success!

Now, if he could find the owner’s home phone number, he’d be able to work out the address – so that he’d know where to stay away from, of course. What a great detective he’d make!

He crossed the road and went along for a nearer look. He stopped in front of the open door and looked up at the sign. Sure enough, there were several phone numbers up there. Dammit! He didn’t have a pen and it was a long way to go back and get one.

‘Ah, of course!’

He took out his cell to send a message to himself and started recording the numbers. A yard-broom appeared out of the shadows inside, closely followed by a young guy in blue overalls.

‘Joel! Oh, dammit.’

His first impulse was to flee and run back up the road where he’d come from, but, he couldn’t. His legs weren’t taking any messages and it was like he was glued to the spot. Joel leant on his broom and they stood and stared at each other, for ages.

It seemed like hours, but it was only a couple of minutes, before Joel sighed, smiled and said, “Hello Virgil.”

“Hey Joel. How’re you?”

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m fine. We’re living here now, in Kaimoana.”

“Yeah, I know – Sally said.”

“Yes, well. I might see you around then. Goodbye Joel.”

He turned to walk away but stopped and looked back when Joel called.

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, Virgil. I’ll love you ‘til I die.”

“Joel! Oh shit, Joel. I love you so much.”

Neither of them knew why, but they stood staring and tears ran down their faces. Joel stumbled a tentative step forward. Joel leaned towards him, and then they rushed at each other, threw their arms around each other and hugged hard. They stood sobbing and bawling on each other’s shoulders.

Their heads swiveled, their mouths came together, and they kissed. And kissed. And kissed, pouring their souls into each other. They backed off and grinned widely, still crying.

“So,” Virgil said. “Pulled anyone out of burning cars lately?”

“Not for a while, no,” Joel replied. “You’ve got taller.”

“You think? I’ll be patting you on the head before I’m done.”

“You can pat me anywhere you like.”

“Anywhere?” Virgil reached out and gently patted Joel’s butt.

“Anywhere!” Joel agreed. He reached around, grabbed his buns and pulled him into a close embrace.

They kissed.

“Cynthia’s gone?” Virgil said when they separated again.

“Cynthia who?” Joel replied with a grin. “You’re the only one for me, Virgil. Always have been, always will be. I told you that.”

“You did? When did you tell me that?”

“In the letter I left you. Didn’t you get it?”

The letter. Oh!”

“Oh?”

“Oh. I didn’t read it. I threw it in the fire.”

“You didn’t read it and you threw it in the fire. Stubborn Little Sod.”

“Well, I wasn’t very happy at the time.”

“I know. I’m sorry. That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I’ll never do that again, if you’ll take me back.”

“Take you back? Okay, I’ll take you back, on trial.”

“On trial?”

“Yeah. You’ve got 50 years, and then we’ll see.”

Fifty years, is that all? Okay then that’ll do for a start. I love you.”

“I love you too, you big lump! I’ll always love you – always!”

They clinched again. After a couple of minutes, Joel said, “Oh Damm!” He pushed Virgil off and turned him around.

“Virgil, I wish you hadn’t worn a white t-shirt.”

“What do you mean? Why not?”

Virgil looked down at his shirt, he couldn’t see anything wrong with it.

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

Joel took his hand, towed him through the workshop and out to the smoko-room out the back. “There.” He indicated the mirror on the wall. “Take a look at the back of your shirt.”

“Why?” Virgil stood back-on to the mirror and twisted his head around.

“Oh yeah,” he grinned. “You’ve got your big greasy paw-prints all over my back.”

“I did. I’m sorry, Virgil. I forgot that my hands were dirty. Take it off and I’ll try washing it. There’s a washing machine here.”

“You will not! I’m not taking it off and you’re not washing it. I’m never going to wash this shirt – ever! When I’m old and getting doddery, I’ll have it to remind me of when I got my Joel back.”

“Oh sweet Boy! I love you.” Joel left some more paw-prints on the shirt.

“Give me a couple of minutes,” he said, breaking away again. “I’ll wash-up, lock-up and we can get out of here.”

“Great. But, I don’t want you getting in trouble – you’re working here.”

“Not really. I’m not getting paid, it’s Sunday. I just came in to clean-up and mess around for something to do.”

“Really? Haven’t you got anything better to do on your day off?”

“I didn’t, until now. Now I think I’ve got much better things to do,”
Joel grinned.

“Oh yeah!” Virgil grinned back. “Me too!”

A few, long, minutes later, they walked together back up the highway into the town, chattering and delighting in their reunion. They belonged together; both of them knew that.

Joel didn’t have wheels – yet. He soon would, his dad was going to give him the Chevy for Christmas. He just needed to get a new car for himself first. Dick was tired of driving the old gas-guzzler. Joel didn’t mind, he was delighted to get the Chevy, he loved that car, it was special.

Virgil agreed. It was special to him too.

Joel said that he was living with his uncle and his family, in Torbay Street, in town, but he wouldn’t be for long. He wasn’t comfortable there and he’d be out of there as soon as he could.

Sally was okay, she was great actually, but her brothers were a pair of pains in the butt. Aunty didn’t like him at all. She didn’t say anything, but it was obvious that she had no time for him.

Virgil said that she must be nuts then.

Uncle, on the other hand, did like him – too much. He suspected that Uncle had the hots for him. He hadn’t done anything, but Joel could tell.

Virgil said that was quite understandable and – eww!

Back at his new house, his mother wasn’t at home. Where would she be? Shopping probably, that was her favourite hobby. He gave Joel a quick tour of the house and yard and they soon finished up where they wanted to be – in Virgil’s room and in his bed.

It’s not easy getting naked when you’re lying down and your lips are fused to someone else’s, but they managed.

Busy hands were everywhere. They were in such a hurry that they didn’t even notice that the door wasn’t closed properly.

They made sweet love together until they lay cuddled in post-coital bliss and drifted off to sleep. Life didn’t get better. Sweet!

The partially closed door blew wide-open when Virgil’s mother returned and she opened the back-door. She had been shopping and was laden with packages, mostly groceries though.

Natasha dropped everything on the kitchen table, switched on the kettle for a coffee, and went back to the car for the rest of the shopping. Back in the kitchen, she sighed as she surveyed all of her spoils.

She’d spent more than she should have, but there were just so many bargains! The bank balance had had a bit of a battering. Mr. Grumpybum would not be approving.

She was quite aware that she was the mother and she didn’t need to get Virgil’s approval, but he always made such a fuss. Also, her boyfriend, Barry, would be arriving today sometime. What she spent her money on was none of Barry’s business either, but she could do without the pair of them ganging up on her.

Well, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. She collected up her clothes purchases and took them to her room to leave them away out of sight.

She left them all on the floor, on the side of the bed away from the door. Coming out of her room, she looked across into Virgil’s and shook her head at the sight. He was back in bed already. Teenagers! They lived in a different time-zone.

He should’ve shut the door if he was going to sleep the day away. She wouldn’t disturb him, they’d been working hard and he was on holiday after all.

She reached into his room to close the door and stiffened when she realised that there wasn’t just one person in the bed. There was two of them!

“Virgil Cain!!” Natasha roared. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Who have you got in that bed with you?”

“Mum! Hey,” Virgil’s head appeared from under the covers. “I . .umm. . .Can you shut the door? I’ll talk to you later.”

“You will not! You’ll talk to me right now! Who is that in your bed?”

The covers stirred again and another bright-red face appeared.

“Hello, Mrs. Cain.”

The three of them stood/sat staring at each other – two naked, embarrassed boys in the bed and the irate mother in the doorway.

“Oh. It’s Joel.” She relaxed suddenly and a big smile spread across her face. “Hello, Sweetheart. How nice to see you. Carry on, Boys. I’ll leave you in peace.”

She closed the door and went back to the kitchen.

“Wow.” Joel sat up and looked down at Virgil. “I thought we were dead.”

“Yes, wow,” Virgil grinned. “That’s my mum.”

“Not your average mother.”

“She’s certainly not! But she’s my mum and she knows me. She knows that I love you.”

“I feel like we’ve slipped into the Twilight Zone,” Joel shook his head.

“No we didn’t.” Virgil sat up and kissed him, briefly. “I love you, Joel Stafford. I love you and we belong together. I know that and so does my mum. Actually, I think that’s why we moved here. I think Mum took the job hoping that we’d get back together.”

“Well, not quite,” Joel grinned.

“What do you mean?”

“I started working on it 6 months ago.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I did. Dad heard that Mr. Henderson was retiring, so I got him to write and ask him to recommend your mum for the job. He did and the school wrote and offered it to her. That was long before we broke up. Didn’t you notice that I was always singing the praises of Kaimoana?”

“No, I didn’t. I wasn’t listening.”

“Well, your mum was, obviously. I told you that we could work something out.”

“You did say that. You crafty beggar! Devious, aren’t you?”

“No, My Love, not devious, just desperate. I love you, Virgil.”

“Oh Joel! I’ll love you forever.”

They kissed.

Kaimoana Tales, 1 - Virgil

"We’ve all heard that a million monkeys banging on a million typewriters will eventually reproduce the entire works of Shakespeare. Now, thanks to the Internet, we know this is not true."


The school year ended on a high note. Virgil won 2 of the 4 available ‘Best in Class’ awards and also the ‘Sportsperson of the Year’. The latter was largely because of his epic victory against Motueka High, right back at the start of the year.

He was a bit embarrassed but his mother was delighted.

They spent most of the weekend packing and cleaning. The furniture removal truck arrived first thing on Monday morning and, after a final check and lick around the house and yard, they left Tiroroa for good and headed for Kaimoana.

Natasha drove her car and Virgil drove his gran’s housetruck, so it was going to be a long day. Gran was ‘gone overseas’ for Christmas and she’d be joining them in the new year. Well, she said it was overseas, and it was technically, but all that really meant was that she’d gone up North, to Auckland actually. She didn’t take the housetruck up to the North Island, it would cost far too much on the ferry and she ‘wasn’t made of bloody money’.

So they left Tiroroa with few regrets. They’d had some interesting times there but had never really felt like it was home. There had been bad times but there had been good times too. When Virgil thought of Tiroroa he’d think of it as the place where he met the great love of his life – his Joel.

But Joel wasn’t there anymore and he wasn’t Virgil’s either. Prick! He wished that he’d never loved him; but he did and always would.

The worst thing about leaving was that Virgil’s best friend wasn’t coming with them. Jimmy, the Alsatian, was dead and buried down by the river. Poor old thing.

They struggled up and over the Spooner’s Range, down the long, sweeping road into Nelson and slowly through there, thanks to the insane traffic. The summer-holiday makers were arriving already. The housetruck seemed to take forever going over the long, twisting hills after Nelson and it was a relief to finally come down to the Rai Valley, through Canvastown, Havelock and Renwick, Woodbourne and Blenheim.

They stopped for a late lunch at a vineyard café just south of Blenheim. The food there was cheap and plentiful, but the stop still cost them far too much because Natasha had to stock-up on wine for the Christmas season. Virgil didn’t know why she had to buy so much, Gran wouldn’t be there to share it with her and he certainly wouldn’t be having any.

There were more hills after Blenheim, but nothing like as bad as they’d already come over. The highway followed down along the East Coast, but they didn’t see much of the sea until they were getting near Kaimoana and it was getting dark by then.

They were held up, near Kekerengu, when the water in the old truck’s radiator boiled over, again. It was a long, hard haul for a little old housetruck. They waited for a while there, it was good to have a break. When the truck cooled down, Virgil replenished the water with the emergency supply and then refilled that from a creek.

His mum offered to swap vehicles and she’d drive the truck for the rest of the way. It was hard work driving the truck with the manual stick-shift and no power steering. Virgil said thanks but no thanks. He’d started this trek and he’d finish it, he was not a quitter.

They arrived in Kaimoana well after dark. The town, sort-of, snuck-up on them. The scattered farm-houses got closer together and then more concentrated. Next they started passing businesses along the highway – service stations, motels and restaurants, and suddenly they were in the heart of the town.

They didn’t turn off to the main street, as he had expected to, but carried on up the hill and along to their destination – up Churchill Street to Fife Avenue.

The small house was all in darkness, of course. Virgil retrieved the keys, from the letterbox, and they went inside to find a horrendous mess. The Removal Truck guys had off-loaded all of their furniture and possessions and, very kindly, left everything crammed into one room.

“Gee, thanks Guys,” Virgil addressed the mess. “There’s a nice welcome to our new home. What a job this is going to be!”

“We’re not going to worry about it now, Honey. It’s too late. We’ll sort it out tomorrow. We can sleep in the housetruck for tonight.”

“Yeah, good thinking, Mum. We’ll do that. Thank goodness for the old truck.”

“Yes, it does have its uses. We’ll have a coffee and then go to bed.”

“I’m not drinking coffee now. I don’t know how you can do that; I’d be awake all night. I’ll just have a coke.”

“It’s all in the mind you know. There’s caffeine in coke as well, and bulk sugar.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t keep me awake.”

“Because you’re still just a boy, My Son.”

“Shut up, Mum. I’m just as tall as you.”

“You are! You’re not as old though.”

“You think?”

They closed up the house again and camped-out in the housetruck. It was good to get a reasonably early night. Today had been a long day and tomorrow would be another one.

Funny how travelling can be so tiring when you’re just sitting on your bum all day.

Virgil arose in the morning and took a couple of minutes to check-out their new home in the daylight. It was a small, two-bedroom place, with green weather-boards and a tiled roof and it was one-half of a double unit, which was unusual. It’d be strange knowing that your neighbours were right through the wall and not on their own separate section like they should be.

The street was a small cul-de-sac and the houses were all similar materials and designs. Again, that was unusual for a New Zealand street. Usually every house was very individual.

He figured that it was probably an old state-housing block. The government built thousands of similar houses, back in the 1950’s – mass housing for the masses. Every town in the country had some of them.

Out in the back-yard there was an over-grown vegetable garden, badly in need of attention. That would be a good job for Gran, she was the gardener in the family. The neighbours over the back fence were sheep. They were still going to be living in a small town.

He sighed and went back into the truck for a coffee before the day’s work started.

It’s a lot of bloody work moving into a new place and getting everything set-up the way it should be. They still hadn’t finished in the late afternoon, but they thought that that was enough for one day and it was coming on to dinnertime.

So, they both washed and tidied-up and drove downtown to find somewhere to have a meal, they figured that they’d earned it. There were an awful lot of restaurants, cafes and take-away places for a town of this size.

That was probably because it was a good place to break the journey, more or less halfway between Christchurch and the ferry terminal at Picton, (and vice-versa). Probably every person in the country, and a lot of the tourists, had come along this road at some stage.

They skipped the bigger, newer, places along the highway through the town and went down to the main street to find something more local. Virgil would’ve been happy with Billy’s Burgers; they were cheap and fast, you knew what you were getting and it was supposed to be good for you. Besides, Billy’s Burgers was a Westpoint business, wasn’t it? He liked to support them because his mum came from Westpoint, they might even be related to the owners.

However, his mum decided, no – they weren’t eating at Billy’s Burgers. She wanted something more local than that. Billy’s Burgers were everywhere and they were all much the same. The Craypot Café looked interesting, so they would go there. Kaimoana was known for its seafood. That was what the name of the town meant – Kai, (food), from the sea, (Moana).

Besides, the Craypot Café looked so cute with the outdoor tables on the little wooden balcony looking down over the street. They might even have Whaleburgers, didn’t he know? Whaleburgers were Joel’s favourite, weren’t they?

Virgil said, “Shut up, Mum. What Joel likes is nothing to do with me.”

“Well, it’s a shame. Honey. You and Joel were very close for a while there. I like Joel. He’s living here now you know, in Kaimoana. We’ll probably see him around, it’s not a big town.”

“I might be seeing him but I won’t be talking to him.”

“You could try. You were such good friends!”

“We’re not now. He dumped me, Mum. He bloody dumped me.”

“You’re being silly, My Son.”

“I’m being me. Let’s go eat.”

They went in and ordered, plain old fish and chips, and then sat at a table outside. The sun had gone down behind the hills, but it was still a warm and pleasant evening. The street was quiet, just the occasional car and a few, unhurried, walkers going past. There was definitely a slower pace to life in a small town.

Their meals arrived, brought out to them by a nice-looking boy about Virgil’s age. He and Virgil quietly checked each other out, but not a word was spoken. Virgil was not ready for another relationship and, though he had no way of knowing it, the boy was already spoken for.

They sat quietly eating their meals. Natasha commented that she should have brought a bottle of wine with her.

Virgil protested. “Mum! You can bloody wait until we get home can’t you? You don’t have to have alcohol with everything!”

“Shut up. Don’t be a prude. A bit of wine goes nicely with fish. Everyone knows that.”

“Mum, you and Gran would drink wine with bubble-gum.”

“Eat, Virgil.”

A couple of teenage girls came strolling along the sidewalk below them. Locals, obviously. They were in no hurry to get anywhere. They stopped when one of them did a double-take and she squealed.

“Virgil! Ohmigosh! What are you doing here?”

“Hey Sally,” he smiled. “Nice to see you. We’re just eating here.”

“I can see that, Silly. What are you doing in Kaimoana? You’re a long way from home.”

“Not really. We’re not far at all. We just moved here; we’ll be living in Kaimoana from now on.”

“Really? That’s great. Joel will be delighted.”

“I don’t think so. We’re not friends anymore. He doesn’t want to know me.”

“Oh boy, are you wrong, Boy! He misses you, you know.”

“Doubt it. Or, if he does, he can keep on missing me. We’re over and it was him that said that to me too.”

“We all make mistakes, Virgil. What’s that saying? To err is human but to forgive is divine.”

“I’m not divine then.”

“You’re telling me nothing,” his mother interrupted. “Hello Sally. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks, Mrs. Cain. I’m always good. I can’t believe that you’re living here. It’s a small world.”

“It certainly is. I’m going to be teaching Manual Classes at the Highschool.”

“Great. Yeah, old Mr. Henderson retired. It’s about time too, he taught my dad.”

“He taught Joel’s dad too. How is Joel, Sally?”

“He’s okay, I guess. He’s a bit of a misery-guts though. He never wants to go anywhere or do anything. He just goes to work and goes home.”

“What about his big new romance?”

“With Cyn? No. That lasted for about 5 minutes. Cyn’s living in Blenheim now and madly in love with her new guy.”

“Dump her, did he?” Virgil scowled.

“I don’t think anyone dumped anybody, they just broke up. I think that they both realised that they’d made a mistake,” Sally replied. “Fern, this is Virgil, he’s a cool kid. Virgil Cain, meet Fern McAuliffe.’

“Hey Fern.”

“Hey. Nice to meet you but we’ve gotta go. Come on Sally, we’ll be late.”

“We’re already late. See you around, Virgil. Bye Mrs. Cain.”

“Goodbye Girls.”

The girls strolled away. They weren’t moving like they were late for anything. Natasha smiled at Virgil.

“See, Honey? You’re going to like it here – there’s two new friends for you already.”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat, Mum.”

My Story, 23 (final)

There’s just no figuring people. When I was alone and lonely, with no friends but Dennis who was not gay, everyone figured that I was a gayboy. Now that I was with Joel, madly in love and bonking like bunnies, nobody believed that we were gay.

Joel was not gay, they knew that, (Hah!), so, by extension, I couldn’t be either. We were, they thought, just friends, very good friends – bosom buddies.

Len kept his distance and kept his mouth shut about what he thought. By the way, I was surprised that his car was insured, but it was. The insurance company coughed-up and he was soon madly in love with his new car – Loser!

Joel and I were included in everything that was going on. Well, he was the Head-boy and he was popular, always had been. I was always with him so I was, kind of, popular as well.

We had sleep-overs nearly every weekend, sometimes at Joel’s house but mostly at mine. He introduced me to tramping and we did a lot of that. We walked every track and climbed every hill for miles around. That was well worth it because we, mostly, went on two-day hikes and slept together in a small tent up on a mountain somewhere. Very cosy and lotsafun.

In the school holidays, we took a week to walk the Abel Tasman Track. That’s an easy-graded, spectacular, walking track down along the coastline through the Abel Tasman National Park, all the way from the Wainui Inlet to Marahau. We could’ve done it in, maybe, 3 days, but we took it easy, took 6 days and thoroughly enjoyed it. It was great!

The track was, mostly, flattish and followed along the golden-sands beaches. There were some short, sharp, climbs over the hills between the bays, but otherwise, you could do it in a wheelchair. The sea was calm and so clear that we could see fish in it when looking down from the high points on the track.

By then, in May, it was well past the peak of the summer season, and that was good. It was still not cold, winter hadn’t started to bite yet, but there weren’t many people about. For two nights we had the accommodation huts all to ourselves, so we could stretch out and play on bunks meant for maybe 40 or more people.

There were huts and, primitive, camping grounds in various bays along the way. Toilets were disgusting holes in the ground with wooden seats over them. At least paper was provided. Rough paper. Showers were cold water – Brrr! We were in and out of them pretty quick.

The main visitor information centre was at the National Park Headquarters at Totaranui. (A Totara is a tree, ‘nui’ means it’s big). The camping ground there was mostly empty and it was huge! Totaranui is the only bay with road access, everywhere else you can only get to by boat or by walking and carrying everything that you need.

In the summertime they restrict the numbers of visitors because, otherwise, they’d run out of fresh water. You have to book for months in advance, it’s that popular.

It’s a spectacular area. I didn’t know there was anything like it in New Zealand – golden sand, clear water, blue skies and lush, green bush. It looked like something in a Pacific Island paradise, which, I suppose we are really – we just don’t think of it like that, it’s just home to us.

Funny thing, most of the people we saw were Europeans and Asians. Where were the Kiwis? In Aussie, probably.

The other good thing about doing the walk in the off-season was that we could cook every night on driftwood fires on the beaches. You can’t do that in the summertime, fires are banned then – it’s way too dry.

That was a good week, one of the best weeks of my life and the best thing about it was that I was with Joel.

We suffered through winter. Hate winter! It snowed once, but it didn’t last long. We tried to make a snowman but it didn’t work, it was too icy. Life was good, but then, in September, it started going to hell.

We stayed at home for those holidays because Joel had to entertain his cousin. Sixteen year old, Sally Griffin was the daughter of the uncle who Joel was going to work for next year. She lived in Kaimoana, of course, and she came to stay with Joel and Uncle Dick for the holidays.

Sally was pretty cool, for a girl. I liked her. She was not the problem; the problem was the other girl who she brought with her, her friend Cynthia Lemon. “Cyn for short and Sin for sure.”

Whoah! Cyn was hot. If I wasn’t gay and seriously in love with my boy, even I’d be tempted, and I wasn’t the only one. She was an immediate hit with all the boys around the town.

What did she look like? Think a 16 year old Paris Hilton, but without the squinty eyes. Morally, she made Paris look like an old matron. She pretty much could have had any boy she wanted, but, being a girl, she only wanted the one she couldn’t have and she set out to get him – my Joel! Bitch.

She didn’t fool me for a minute; I knew right away what was going on. I tried to warn him, but Joel just laughed at me.

“No worries, Virgil. I’m gay and I’m all yours. It’s just the way Cyn is. She’s a flirt and she does it with everyone.

She did not. She didn’t do it with me, or any of the girls, just the boys and especially the best catch in town – my Joel. Dammit!

I guess he wasn’t as gay as he thought he was, and he wasn’t as much in love with me as I was with him, or it wouldn’t have happened – but it did. On their third night there, Cynthia went into his room late at night and climbed, naked, into Joel’s bed.

If it had of been me, I would’ve been out of there and up the road like greased lightning. But, Joel wasn’t me and he didn’t – he surrendered. She won and I lost. Dammit!

Being Joel, upright and honourable, he came around next morning and told me what had happened. I didn’t handle it well; I was pissed and I told him so. I called him all the stupid fuckwits under the sun, and then I said that I’d forgive him, maybe, one day.

“I’m sorry, Virgil. . .”

“Sorry? Yeah, you should be. I hope you don’t think that that makes it all right.”

“I don’t. I’m sorry, but we’re over.”

“We are what??”

“Over. Finished. What we had is gone. I’m sorry, Virgil, really sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“LIAR! You weren’t thinking about me. You were just thinking with your dick! I hope you’re happy with her. Make the most of it, she’ll drop you as soon as someone else comes along.

“Virgil!”

“Fuck off, Stafford. I’m better off without you.”

I shoved him out of my room and slammed the door in his face. He fucked off – back to her.

If ever I get another boyfriend, it’s going to be a bloody ugly one. Good-looking boys are not worth it! The higher they lift you up, the further you fall. Pricks!

I didn’t see Joel again. He didn’t come back and I didn’t go looking for him. Two days later, the girls went home to Kaimoana and he went with them. The story at school was that he had to leave because his uncle needed him to get ready for the summer season. I knew better. He just wanted to be with her. Fuck’im.

He left me a letter, but I didn’t read it. Mum handed it to me and I threw it in the fire.

Mum said, “That’s not nice, Virgil. Don’t you want to know what he’s got to say?”

“I don’t. I’ve heard all I want to.”

“You’re being silly, My Son.”

“I’m being me. Fuck’im anyway.”

So, that was it – the end of my big romance. I wish I never loved the Prick.

Somehow, I got through the rest of the year, alone again. I guess that I always will be. Then, the week before school finished, Mum came home with big news. She’d got another job, with more pay and in a bigger school.

“You’ll like it, Honey. It’s nearer to Christchurch too.”

“Well, good! I can’t wait to leave this place. Where are we going, Mum?”

“You’ll love it. It’s a little town called Kaimoana.”

“WHAT? We bloody are not!”

“We bloody are so. We’re moving to Kaimoana.”

We did.

That’s it. That’s me and that’s my story. Bummer, eh? Life goes on. David can tell you the rest. If he wants to.

‘Bye.

My Story, 22

Len came back and he was laughing, (the bastard!)

“Whoah. What a ride! Almost worth losing my car for. Okay are you, Virgin? Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here.”

“What??” I flared, but Joel, gently and firmly, pushed me aside.

“Wait,” he said, and he turned around and punched Crowe in the face. (My hero!) He sprawled on his back and looked up at Joel’s livid face.

“Kill yourself if you want to,” Joel roared at him. “But do it on your own! You come anywhere near this boy again and I’ll fucking kill you. Come on, Virgil, I will take you home.”

It was a miracle that no-one was hurt and we both walked away. You shouldn’t leave the scene of an accident, but we did. Blame Joel, he led me away. His father’s car sat in the middle of the road with the driver’s door open. He put me into the front seat, got in himself and drove away. We were going home.

A few k’s up the road, there was a turn-off where a side road went down to the river. I pointed to it.

“Stop there please, Joel.”

He stopped the car, turned the engine off and killed the lights. I sat there shivering and shaking. I was a mess and must’ve looked it. I swung around and faced him.

“Crowe’s an idiot,” I said. “He damm near killed the both of us. I was going to die. I was going to die and you saved me.”

“I guess I did. I’m just glad that I got there in time – very glad. If anything happened to you, Virgil, then I would die too, I know I would!”

“You said that you loved me.”

“I do love you. Took me a while to work it out, but I’ve always loved you.”

“Took me a while too, but I love you, Joel. I really, really love you.”

“You do?”

“I do. Kiss me.”

He did.

The Staffords have got a great old car. It’s old, but it’s a classic. You know the best thing about it? It’s big – very roomy on the inside. We climbed over to the back-seat where we could stretch out, Joel held me and we kissed and cuddled. It was great! I gave what was left of my virginity to Joel and he took me there. Yeah, I had a tube of lube in my pocket, don’t ask why.

Funny really, according to Mum, I was conceived on the back-seat of a Chevy. Guess what sort of car the Staffords had? Yeah, a Chevy. It’d be weird if it was the same one.

That was great. It was just about perfect actually. Joel was a wonderful lover; I could feel the love and I could see it in the tears on his moon-lit face. Damm, I loved that boy!

After we’d ‘done the deed’, we lay and cuddled and just loved quietly. After a few minutes, Joel said, “Virgil, make love to me.”

“Make love? We just did, didn’t we?”

“No. well, yes, but I want you to do it to me now.”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“No, I want you to make love to me. Please love me, Virgil.”

“Oh wow! I never thought you’d want me to do that. I thought I’d be the girl here.”

“There’s no girls here, My Love. There’s just us, two boys. Love me, Virgil.”

Oh, yeah! Was he great, or was he great? I loved him so much and I did make love to him. Awesome! We were equal partners and that’s the way it should be. Simply awesome.

He drove us home, to Tiroroa, and pulled-up outside my house.

“This is goodnight, then.”

“It is a good night – the best night of my life. Thank you, Joel. I love you.”

I kissed him.

“The best night so far. There’ll be many, many more.”

He kissed me.

“Woo-hoo! Do you want to come in and sleep with me?”

“I’d love to, but I’d better not. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“It’d be all right, Joel. Mum won’t mind, she likes you.”

“No, I’d better not. My father would mind. He’d mind a lot. Goodnight, Beautiful Boy. Sleep well.”

“I will. I’ll dream of you, I always do. G’night, Joel.”

And – what to say now? We lived happily ever after? That could work, if only it was true. We did live happily, no-one ever had it better, but it didn’t last forever. Nothing does. Dammit!

But, for a while, we had it good. Mum was perfectly aware of what was going on. She knew me too well not to. She didn’t mind a bit, which was great. Mum liked Joel and she never tired of telling me that he was good for me. Joel was “making me a man.”

(I thought that I already was!)

Mr. Stafford was a different story. He didn’t have a clue about what we were doing. He liked me, I think. He always made me welcome in their home. Sometimes I thought that he liked me more than he liked Joel. They had the strangest relationship.

When Joel was younger, he used to be beaten regularly. The smallest infraction of the many rules earned him a hiding. His father was a hard, short-tempered man and he demanded perfection from his only son.

Actually, Joel said he thought that was why he was so abusive towards me when we first met. He didn’t know how to love. He’d sure learnt a lot since then – his cousin, Gary, had helped a lot with that.

Now that he was older and bigger, his father didn’t beat him anymore. He hadn’t laid a hand on him since the time when Joel was 14 and he hit him back, but there was still a lot of tension between them.

Joel was just hanging-out until he could leave home, it wouldn’t be long now. This was going to be his last year at school and, come Christmas, he’d be gone. I didn’t like the sound of that, but he told me not to worry, we’d work something out.

Next year, he was going to be working for his uncle, his mother’s brother. Uncle had a small marine engineering business, down at Kaimoana, and he had a boat doing chartered fishing trips as well.

I knew of Kaimoana, of course, but didn’t know a lot about it. It was just a small town, bigger than Tiroroa but still small,. It was down the East Coast, between Picton and Christchurch. Whatever – it was a long way from here and I’d be here and Joel would be there. Bugger. I didn’t want to think about that, so I didn’t.

Mum and Mr. Stafford parted company. They were ‘just good friends’ now, which was good. I think. At least I could stop worrying about appearances of incest. Okay, it was not incest, we weren’t related in any way, but it, kind-of, looked like it. And – eww!

Okay, I’m going to wrap this story up soon – maybe next time. There’s not a lot more to say. Life was good. It was excellent. It was so good that I don’t like to think about it now that it’s gone, but for a few months we were together constantly and we loved.

My Story, 21

(Okay, here we go - hot off the - umm - keyboard).

So we were talking about the changes and especially the big change in my life. It was huge. I was like a different person and I would never be the same again. I fell in love, you see – fell like a tonne of bricks. Did you see that coming? I didn’t. I was more than surprised, I was flabbergasted! (It’s a word – look it up).

He came to me one night, in a dream. I don’t remember much of it, but I know that, in the dream, he was holding me – so close. I was clinging to him and I knew. I knew that he was the one; the one person who I would love for the rest of my life. He was meant for me and I was born to love him.

We smiled together, our lips met, he kissed me and I woke up crying. Damm!

Dreams could be weird sometimes. Okay, most times, but when they’re good, they’re really good and this one was perfect. I so wanted to go back to sleep, to go back to the dream and never wake up again. I just wanted to dream with him, to live and love like that forever.

My heart was bleeding and I wanted that feeling back. I’d never felt so loved and I loved him so much, I really did. But, of course, I couldn’t sleep now. I was awake and crying for my loss.

Oh, fuck! I loved him. This was not lust, not just liking and it was no boyhood dream, there was nothing childish about it. This was grown-up stuff, too grown-up for me, I just wanted to be a kid. Dammit!

But it was real, I loved him. I think my heart was giving my mind a wake-up call.

Outside of my dream, in the real world, he was not perfect, I knew that. He had his faults and flaws, like anyone did. He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t, and I’d seen more than a few of them lately. Even so, I loved him. For me, he was perfect.

Would my life ever be as perfect as my dream was? No, it would not. Our relationship was not like that and it never would be. He didn’t love me like I loved him. Dammit!

One thing I knew, and that was that I could never tell him. I could never let him know how I really felt. F I did and he said that he didn’t love me the same, I would die. I would just curl-up and die, so I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t, tell him – ever. Dammit.

I didn’t think I would, it took ages, but eventually, I went back to sleep but not back to the dream, that had gone. I woke in the morning, still feeling sad, and went back to school where I spent the day trying not to drool when I looked at him, or to faint when he looked at me. Damm. No-one ever told me that love could be like this. This sucked – but, I loved him.

Okay, enough of that. Back to the backtrack now. The week ended, the weekend came and I went to the Speedway, with Len and his dumb mates. This was not what I really wanted, but what I wanted, I couldn’t have. All I could do was to carry on and keep on pretending that my life hadn’t been totally derailed.

The Speedway was the same – same cars, noise and smells and the same people watching. I was probably the best-dressed person there. That makes a change.

Then, I saw Joel there. Bloody Joel Stafford was there! Dammit. What was he doing there? This wasn’t his world. It wasn’t mine either, but that’s different, I was invited, he wasn’t and no-one wanted him there.

What did he think he was doing? (He was just sitting there watching the cars actually). I hoped that he didn’t think that he was there for me. He was not my father and I didn’t need a babysitter. He got me so mad! I felt like going across and telling him to fuck off. But, I couldn’t do that, I didn’t own the place. Dammit.

Throughout the meeting, I paid hardly any attention to the races, I was too busy watching Joel and making sure that he wasn’t watching me. He didn’t seem to be, he just sat there watching the action. He was alone, I thought, his girlfriend wasn’t there and he wasn’t with anyone I knew. I would, wouldn’t I? Yes, of course I would, Tiroroa was a tiny place.

On the way out afterwards, I looked around the carpark and, yes, Mr. Stafford’s car was there. I’d know that old tank anywhere. Dick wasn’t there, I hadn’t seen him, just Joel. So he must’ve had his daddy’s car for the night. Whoop-de-do. Len had his own car and he was only 15. Joel must’ve been 17 by then. Dork!

I was not having a good night. Yes, it was my own fault, but it was his fault too – he shouldn’t have been there. He hadn’t said a word to me, he didn’t have to, just seeing him was enough to wreck my night. However, the night wasn’t over yet, there was still more to come.

Len, finally, dragged himself away from his mates, we got in the car and headed out to Waitere, for the drag-races.

We arrived, at Lower Waitere actually, according to the sign. There wasn’t much to it, just a few houses and a, closed, shop. Don’t know why they bothered giving the place a name, it’s no town. Shit, even Tiroroa looks big in comparison.

We stopped, with a string of other cars and petrol-heads. Len said, “Okay Guys. Wait here while I go and do some business.”

I said, “Okay, I’ll just sit in the car then.”

“No. Don’t do that. Stand up here, near the front.”

“It’s not warm, Len. Why can’t I sit inside?”

“Because you can’t. Nobody can see you in there. I want you standing out here where everyone can see you.”

He did? Cool! I was pleased with that. I thought he wanted me to be seen because he was proud to be with me. Dork that I was. Told you that I was dumb!

People were wandering up and down, checking out each others’ cars and the people there. I felt like a nun in a whorehouse. Everyone seemed to be looking at me. They knew that I didn’t belong there.

Len came back, grinning from ear to ear and he was, like, hyper-excited.

“Way to go! She’s all on Guys. We’re going to clean up here. Go and make your bets if you want to be rich.”

“They liked your trophy then?” Larry asked.

“Are you kidding me? They loved it! This is going to be the best Chicken Run ever!”

I wished that they’d speak English. I didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. Dork! I didn’t know what was going on but I seemed to be the only one. I just stuck close to Len and followed him around.

Everyone seemed to have arrived, so they all got back into their cars and moved a couple of kilometers up the road, away from the houses. On a straight section of the road, they started taking turns at doing doughnuts and mega-noisy burn-outs, and then some short one-on-one races over a couple of hundred meters.

Len didn’t take part in any of that. “Fuck no! I need some tread on my tyres.”

We leant against the car, standing there watching the warm-up events. They went on and on and it all got a bit boring. Joel was there, alone in the crowd and looking as out of place as I was feeling.

They all got sick of that and got back in their cars, going back to Waitere. It was time for the main event. Len stopped, joining the line-up, and got out to let the others out of the back seat.

I was going to get out to, but he told me to stay where I was. I was going to be his ‘co-pilot and good luck token’. (‘Cool’). He got back into the car and moved to the front of the crowd. I figured that this had to be a race. Not everyone was participating, there were only 7 cars in the line-up and some cars were moving off up the road already.

“Buckle-up, Virgin, and hang on tight. This is it!”

“Len, I wish you’d tell me what’s going on. What is the Chicken Run?”

“You don’t know? It’s a race, 15 kilometers up the valley from Lower to Upper Waitere. No holds barred and winner takes all. I’m gonna make a fortune tonight.”

“You’ve been betting on yourself? You must be confident, some of these guys are twice as old as you are.”

“They are, but I’m faster. We’re unbeatable, Virgin.”

“I hope so, for your sake.”

For answer, he just revved the car and roared a couple of times. All of the other cars responded and it was deafening. The old biddies in the houses would be on the phone to the cops. But, no matter, we’d be well gone before they could get out here.

A girl walked out and stood on the white line, in the middle of the road. She held both hands up over her head.

“Len, someone said there’s a trophy?”

“Yeah! I’ve put up the best trophy ever.”

The girl dropped her hands and they all roared off past her. I swear, I could feel the G-force pushing me back into the seat.

There was something I didn’t like here. Well, there was heaps of things I didn’t like – like the speed! But, there was something he wasn’t telling me. “What trophy, Len?”

“The trophy, my Little Virgin, is you, of course. Whoever wins gets to take you home and do what he likes with you.”

“You WHAT? Seriously?”

Pennies dropped and suddenly I saw what was going on. How could I have been so bloody thick?

“No way! No fucking way am I having anything to do with that! You stop this car, you Bastard. I’m outta here.”

“Settle down. We’re not stopping ‘til it’s over. You try getting out and you’re dead. Don’t worry, Virgin, I’m gonna win this. Your arse is mine!”

“You stop this fucking car, Crowe. Stop it now!”

“Oh, grow up! You want it, you’ve been begging for it, well, tonight you’re going to get it.”

I was so wild, I couldn’t speak. I felt like crying like a baby. The Bastard! The Absolute Bastard. How could he think he’d get away with this? How could I be so bloody stupid?

All I wanted was to get the hell out of there, but that was not going to happen, not at the speed we were roaring up that narrow, back-country road. It twisted and turned as it followed the curves of the river valley. Some of those corners had no camber on them at all. The road was never built for those kind of speeds.

There was a car right on our tail, breathing down our necks, and another guy in front of us, weaving to and fro to stop him from passing. He slowed for a tight curve, the sign said, “Slow 60k” and we were doing more than twice that.

Crowe saw a chance and he accelerated past him. He almost made it, but he stuffed-up, and the car skewed in the loose gravel on the left side of the road. He over-compensated, clipped the rock-wall on the right, and we rolled.

The car rolled, over and over. I think that we even went end over end. The world was a mess of screams, lights and the screeching of metal.

Finally it stopped, upside-down and, incredibly, still on the road. The engine was still running, don’t ask me how, and there was the stink of petrol everywhere.

“Oh Fuck! She’s gonna blow!” Len screamed. He got his door open, spilled out and took off running.

I was left there alone, hanging upside-down and I couldn’t get the stupid seat-buckle open. I thought I was going to die and I was furiously fighting the buckle and screaming my head off. The door was wrenched open and strong hands reached in for me.

He lifted the weight of my body and got the buckle undone. He pulled me out and dragged me away from the car just as it burst into flames.

The heat was incredible, it hit me in the back. I was terrified, screaming and crying. I would’ve collapsed on the ground, but he didn’t let me. He kept me moving until we were a safe distance away, and then he held me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clung on tight and bawled.

“Joel! Oh, thank God! Thank you, Joel, thank you! Hold me.”

“It’s okay, Virgil. It’s all right. I’ve got you, I’m holding you and I’ll never let go. I love you, Virgil. I love you,” he sobbed.

“Joel! I love you, Joel. I love you so much!”

I kissed him, frantically, and we clung together; sobbing together.

My Story, 20

We’re back! *listening* No? Dammit!

Sheesh, will you look at that? Part 20! Wow.

Where were we? Oh, yeah – here, talking about changes, and the big one in my life. But, first we’ve gotta backtrack a bit.

After Greg and the others had ‘outed’ me as not being gay at all and a bullshit artist to boot, (Hah!), there was one person who didn’t want to believe it. Len came around after school and took me out for a ride in his car. Way cool. It was he first time he’d ever asked me.

I told Gran that we were going out and, “Len’s just going to race down the highway, miss a corner, wrap us around a tree and kill us horribly.”

My loving grandmother replied, “That’s nice, Dear. Have a good time.”

Phaw! She’d be sorry if he did. I guess I would be too. Gran could drive like a maniac herself, sometimes. Just as well the truck’s not turbo-charged.

We got into the car and Len drove, quietly and smoothly, up the main road through the village. He turned left and went down and across the bridge over the river. No, he didn’t want to go swimming with me. “Some other time, maybe.”

He turned into the back-country road, planted the boot and we took off. We were low-flying. It was great! Funny really, now that I’m older and wiser, well one year older and wiser, I’d be worried, but I wasn’t then. It was fun!

We zoomed up the road, passing farm after farm. It was a back road and quite narrow, which made it feel like we were going even faster than we were, which was a lot anyway. Len seemed confident and he said that he was a good driver.

I wanted to believe him, and I did after we careened around a corner and there was an old horse and cart in the middle of the road! Len didn’t even hesitate and certainly didn’t slow down. He just flicked the wheel to the left and back to the right, and we were around them, somehow, and speeding away up the road, laughing like loons, leaving the horse wondering what the fuck had just happened? Coolness!

A few kilometers up the road, there was an old, derelict, church sitting in a paddock. Len turned in there, spun around, and parked facing back towards the road, underneath the overgrown hedge of macrocarpas.

He shut the engine off, killed the music, and it was very, very quiet. We sat looking at the local crowd. They all had four legs. Damm. I’m never going to get used to living in the country.

“Have I got a cool car, or have I got a cool car?” Len grinned widely. He reached across and squeezed my thigh. His hand rested there a minute, and then slid up and he groped my crotch. Bloody bucket-seats didn’t make this easy.

It would’ve been better in the old days when they had bench-seats in the front. The house-truck had a bench-seat, but, hopefully, no-one was groping anybody in there.

I undid the seat-belt and pushed forward to make it easier for him. I lifted my hips when he tugged on the top of my trackies, and he slid them down, exposing my upright dick and dangling balls. He started fondling and wanking me.

‘Oh yeah!’

“”You like this, don’t you, Virgin?”

“Oh, yes. Lotsafun.”

He released me, unbuckled his own seat-belt and whipped his pants down below his knees.

“Come over here and sit on my knees.”

I took my pants right off, crawled across and sat straddling him. I wrapped one hand around his dick and held it firmly while my other hand roamed around his smooth belly, thighs and balls.

He did the same to me and carried on wanking me. Yes!

I tried to kiss him, but he wasn’t having that. He turned his head so that I finished-up kissing his cheek.

He was wanking me fast and furiously now and I was close to cumming, so I forgot about doing him, just held on to his shoulders, threw my head back and enjoyed. His other hand left my balls and slid around behind them and up underneath me. His finger found my pucker, teased there, and then slid up into me.

Graeme and I had never gone any further than that, but right then, I didn’t care – Len could do whatever he liked to me. I was bouncing up and down, like I was fucking on his finger and I gasped and squealed as I came explosively. “Yes!”

“Oh yeah. You’re a bit of hot stuff, Little Virgin. Suck my dick now.”

That was it? No loving words, no ‘please’, just an order to suck his dick? Whatever. I wanted to. I sucked his dick. I got down on my knees and I, gleefully, went to work on him.

“Oh, yeahhhh!” Len sighed as he came and he pumped his seed into my mouth.

He still didn’t want to kiss me, just pulled his pants up, started the car and we went home. He didn’t even wait for me to get my clothes together, so I had to do it on the way. We didn’t talk on the way home. The music was loud and I was feeling that something was not right.

He pulled-up outside my house. I opened the door and said, “Thanks, Len. See you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Little Virgin. We’ll go to the Speedway tomorrow night, okay?”

“The Speedway? Well. . .”

“Oh, come on. You’ve gotta come. It’ll be fun. We’ll go to the drag-races after, that’s even better.”

“Well, all right, thanks. I guess the races will be a new experience.”

“They will. See you then, Virgin.”

He pulled away with a roar. I went inside, to my room, to sit on my bed and have a think. Did I have a boyfriend now, or what? I didn’t know and it felt like I was being used.

“Ah well. It can only get better, I guess. At least I’m getting sex.”

Damm! I was a dumb kid.

Next day, after school, I had yet another row with Stafford. I wished that he’d mind his own bloody business! I told him that too. He started it by following me out of the school, with the same old song. “Virgil, I thought I told you – be careful with that Crowe.”

“Fuck off. You don’t tell me how to live my life.”

“It looks like someone has to. He drives like a bloody maniac!”

“Oh, don’t be such an old woman! What I do and who I do it with is none of your business.”

“You’ve made that clear enough. Do what you like then; but stay away from the Chicken Run, or you’ll be sorry.”

“The only sorry thing around here is you. Fuck off Stafford!”

He fucked off.

The Chicken Run? What the hell was the Chicken Run? I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Bloody Old Woman. Damm! There was no-one who could get me as mad as Stafford did. Prick!

Friday lunchtime, Len met me going back to school. “Hey Virgin. We’re still on for tonight, are we?”

“For the Speedway? Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”

“That’s good. Me too. Listen, wear your nice clothes, okay?”

“My nice clothes? You want me to dress up? Nobody else does.”

“They don’t, but I like it when you do. You look good.”

“You think? Well, that’s good! Okay then, I’ll dress up, just for you.”

“Cool. Thanks. I’ll pick you up about 6, okay?”

“Very okay. See you then.”

Cool, there was hope for us yet. Len could be a nice guy, when he wanted to.

After school, Mum and Gran were both out somewhere; I probably wouldn’t see them until the morning. That was okay, I could look after myself. I took Jimmy for a swim down at the river, and then went home and showered.

I put my best clothes on, so I’d look good, and I even splashed some after-shave on my face. Yeah, I had a bottle of after-shave lotion, even though I wasn’t shaving yet. Mum bought it for me for Christmas. I think it was a joke.

I rushed eagerly out the door when Len arrived, and was disappointed to find that he had 2 other guys crammed into his tiny back-seat. At least I got to sit upfront with the driver.

“Hey Len. Hey Guys.”

“Hey Virgin. You’re looking good.”

“Thanks! It’s going to be a good night, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be great,” Julian Harris agreed. “Especially the Chicken Run – awesome!”

There it was again. The Chicken Run? I swung around to look at him. “Excuse my ignorance, but what the hell is the Chicken Run?”

“You don’t know? You’ll see. The Chicken Run is the big race of the night – out on the back-road to Waitere. There’s a special trophy tonight too.”

“Harris,” Len interrupted. “Shut the fuck up.”

There was still something they weren’t telling me. Oh well, I’d soon find out, I was going there – with Len.

I felt over-dressed again. No-one else had dressed up, they were all in t-shirts, jeans and boots. We arrived at the Speedway, I got my money out but Len told me to put it away. I was his date for the night. Cool. (I think).

Okay. That’s the end of the backtracking. Forgot I was doing that, didn’t you? Yeah, so did I. Got a bit carried away there.