Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 6

There was some sort of party going on. A group of adults were sitting around on the wooden deck on the back of the house, and there were kids all over the yard, dozens of them!

Dylan said, “Wow! Are these all Carvers?”

“Probably,” Christian said. “Maybe some of them are just friends, but they’re most likely Carvers. There’s a lot of them.”

“There really is!” William said. “They don’t all live here, do they? I mean, it’s a big house, but it’s not that big.”

“No, they don’t all live here, just some of them. They live all over town. This is Ma’s house, she’s the head of the family. That’s Ma there, they’ve brought her table and chair outside! We’d better go and say hello to her first.”

They got out of the cars and Robert led them over to his grandmother.

“Hello, Robert. Who’ve you got here?” Ma looked up.

A long, skinny, guy sitting on the edge of the deck chortled. “Robert’s brought some fresh meat for us.”

“Shut up, Stretch!” the old lady snapped. “You’re not funny. Go and make yourself useful somewhere. Robert, who are your friends?”

“These are William and Dylan. They put their car off the road last night, near Windy point. Roman pulled it out of the ditch this morning, but it’s not going. We were hoping that someone would have a look at it.”

“You put your car off the road and into a ditch, in the rain? Bugger. Stretch, there’s a job for you. Go and fix the boys’ car.”

“Yeah, okay, Ma. Sure.” Stretch got to his feet. “We’ll have a look. Whose car is it?”

“It’s my mum’s car actually,” Dylan answered.

“You broke your mother’s car? Hoo boy! We’d better fix it then.”

Dylan followed Stretch back to the car and opened it. They stood looking at the engine.

“What’s the party for, Ma?” Robert asked.

“Do we need a reason? No, it’s Butch’s birthday next week. I can’t believe that my baby is 50 already! Make sure you wish your uncle a happy birthday. He’s cooking steaks on the barbeque, down the back.”

She looked down the yard and sighed, “Jeremy! Robert, go and get Jeremy and bring him here. I want to talk to him.

William, is it? Where are you boys from?”

“Umm, we live in Kaimoana, in North Canterbury.”

“By the sea. Yes, I know Kaimoana, nice town. Crappy beaches though, ours are much better. What brings you to Westpoint?”

“Well, Dills did. We just came over for the weekend, to have a look at the Coast.”

“It’ll take you more than a weekend to see all of it, it’s a big area. I’ve lived here all my life and I haven’t seen all the Coast. Still, you’re in the best part of it.”

“Everyone says that,” William grinned.

“Because it’s true, Boy. Ah, Jeremy!”

Robert came back with a tiny blond-haired boy in tow.

The old lady smiled, dotingly, “Jeremy, Sweetheart, you can’t play football with the big boys. They are too rough and you’re too little. You stay away from them.”

“But they need me!” he protested. “I’m not little. I bash them if they rough.”

“I’m sure you would, but you mustn’t do that. Your daddies would not be happy.”

“My daddies are not here. They’ve gone. They won’t know, so I bash them!”

“They’ll bash you back. Don’t fight with your cousins, Jeremy. They are your best friends.”

“They not! My daddies are my best friends.”

“Don’t make them sad then. You’ll make me sad too, and that’s not good.”

“That’s dangerous!”

“Yes, it is,” she laughed. “So don’t do it, you Scamp. This is William. Take him down to the Barbie and tell your Uncle Butch to feed him. Okay?”

“Okay, Ma. You love me, Ma.”

“I do. Now go away, Little Rascal. No fighting and no football.”

The little boy looked William up and down and he grinned and said, “Race ya!” and he took off at full speed, down to the far end of the yard.

Robert sighed, “That’s our Clown Prince. One day he’ll own everything; there’s a scary thought. Come and see Butch.”

Walking down the busy yard, William asked, “Why do you call him a prince? Is he Ma’s favourite?”

“No. Ma doesn’t have favourites, I think. Jeremy is Superboy and Billy’s boy. Everything they’ve got will be his, if they haven’t already given it away.”

“Oh, I see. He’s the heir to Billy’s Burgers then?”

“That and others, yeah, one day.”

“Lucky kid,”

“Yeah, he’s lucky. Hey, Butch. Happy Birthday. Got any food for some starving men?”

“Starving men?” the big guy at the barbeque looked around. “What men?”

“Shut up, Butch. We’re hungry.”

“When aren’t you? Grab some plates and I’ll fill them up. Who’s this then? Got yourself a boyfriend, Robert?”

“Shut up! I have not. This is William and that’s his mate, Dylan, up there at the car. They put it off the road last night, at Windy Point. Roman pulled it out this morning, but now it won’t start. Stretch is having a look at it.”

“Stretch is having a look? Good luck with that. He’s bloody useless.

Here, you boys take over the Barbie and I’ll go and see what’s wrong. Don’t burn the steaks or Ma will kill you.”

He handed over the implements and went up to the car.

“Stretch is useless?” William worried. “I thought you said they’re all good with cars.”

“Well they are! Don’t worry, they’ll fix it. It’s just what they’re like, they all think that they’re the only one who knows anything.”

“Except you.”

“Yeah, except me, I know nothing. I don’t need to, I’ve got uncles. I’ll do this, until I can get out of it. You get some plates, coleslaw and bread, bring them here, I’ll fill them and you can take one up to Dylan. Tell Christian and Roman to come and get their own.”

William got plates for Dylan, himself and Robert, put coleslaw and slices of bread on them and took them to the cook. “What happened to Jeremy? Oh, there he is – playing football again.”

“He what?” Robert looked around. “Oh, Jeremy. So young to die!”

“To die?”

“Yeah. Ma’s on her feet. Watch Ma stop the party.”

“JEREMY CARVER!!!” Ma stood at the front of the deck and roared.

Everyone there, from the adults to the smallest children, froze in their tracks and it was like the crowded yard was full of statues. The little blond-haired boy dropped the ball and meekly walked up to the deck. He stood below his great-grandmother with his head hung down and not looking at her.

Ma said, “Inside.” And she gestured at the wide-open glass door behind her.

Jeremy walked up the steps, went inside, quietly slid the door shut and everyone relaxed, or tried to. Ma huffed back to her chair.

“Whoah. Scary,” William breathed.

“Yeah,” Robert grinned as he put steaks and sausages on the plates. “Let that be a lesson to you, Young Man. Don’t mess with Ma Carver.”

“I won’t,” he agreed. “The poor wee boy.”

“Jeremy? Give him 10 minutes and he’ll be back, charming Ma and laughing like it never happened.”

“Okay. I’ll take this food to Dills.”

By now, there were 4 guys standing around the car, poking and prodding at the innards. Dylan was standing there too, looking hopeless. He didn’t have a clue, but he felt he should be there.

“Hey, Dills. I brought you some food. How’s it going here?”

“Good, I think. What would I know? Yeah, let’s eat.”

They sat down together, on the lawn in front of the deck. Christian and Roman came over.

“Hey! Where’s ours?”

“Robert says, go and get your own. He’s at the barbeque, down the yard there.”

“Of course he is. He won’t admit it, but he likes cooking. C’mon, Christian.”

Another couple, a boy and a girl, stood looking down at them. The boy squatted down.

“Hi. You must be Dylan and William. I’m Ross, Robert’s twin.”

“Hey, Ross. Yeah, we are, I’m William. Nice to meet.”

“Yeah, it is,” Dylan said. “And, I can see you’re twins. Robert’s got red-hair and you’ve got blond, otherwise you look identical.”

“We do,” Ross grinned. “We pinched some of Ma’s hair-dye once and dyed each other’s hair black – confused the hell out of everybody. How’s the car going?”

“It’s not, but there’s plenty of guys trying.”

“Yeah, they’re all triers. Maybe I can do something, that’d annoy them. Laters, Guys.”

He stood and joined the group at the car. His girl went down to the barbeque, William and Dylan sat eating and were soon joined by Christian, Roman and Robert, all with heaped plates and plastic cutlery.

A young woman walking past, with a red-haired baby on her hip, stopped. She put the baby down next to William and smiled, “Watch Carl for a minute for me.”

She joined the group of guys looking into the car. “Where’s the distributor?”

“Sheesh, Margaret!” Butch said. “What would you know about cars?”

“I know they need a distributor. Where is it?”

“Well, it’s . . . umm . . . damm! Where’s the distributor?”

“Dumb men,” Margaret came back and picked up her baby. “You’ve lost your distributor, Boys. Once they find another one, you’ll be back in business.”

“Really?” Dylan stood up. “Thanks.”

“No problems. You want anything done around here, ask a woman. The blokes are all useless!” She went up on to the deck and disappeared inside.

There was a lot of talking around the car and some were on their cells. Ross came back and sat next to his brother. “Problem solved. As soon as they find one, they’ll be right. Where’s Trina?”

“She got volunteered to take over the Barbie. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.” Ross jumped up and headed down the yard.

“Ah. It must be love,” Roman grinned.

“Well he loves his food, not sure about the girlfriend.”

“Okay,” Butch came over. “There’s good news and there’s bad news. Laurie’s got a distributor, he’s been wrecking a Toyota, but he’s out at sea and won’t be back until about 6 tonight.”

Robert said, “Can’t we just go and get it?”

“No, we can’t. He’s got his shed locked up as tight as a drum.”

“So?”

“So he said that if anyone breaks in there he’ll friggin’ shoot them. He’s sick of having his gear ripped off and his tools taken. No, he’s being cranky, so we’d better wait.”

Roman said, “We could go back and search around where they crashed. We might find the original one.”

“Then again, you might not. It could be anywhere between there and here and if it hit the road it’s broken. No, it’s best if you just wait. We’ll fix your car by tonight, meantime, go and have a look around the town.”

“Thanks, Butch. We’ll do that. Thanks for all your help. We really appreciate it.”

“No problem, Kid. Our pleasure. Go and enjoy Westpoint.” He went inside to clean up.

Ross and his girl came back with drinks for everyone – coke of course.

“Okay, we’re out of here, Ross. Dad wants you.”

“Oh? Am I in trouble?”

“Not yet. No, he wants a hand with his truck.”

“Okay, sure. Gotta keep him sweet. See you later, Guys. Be good, Robert.”

“Have to, don’t I? Sandie’s away for the weekend.”

“I know. Don’t go near Mary Lamb’s place. Sandy would kill you.”

“Probably. I’ll be good.”

“You’ll probably be good?”

“Shove it, Ross.”

Ross and Trina walked away, hand in hand.

“Mary had a little lamb?” William grinned.

“She sure did,” said Roman. “Mary had a little lamb called Robert. Sore point. Change the subject. Is there anywhere in Westpoint that you want to go?”

“No. We don’t know the place at all. Any suggestions?”

“Not really. What say we just get in the car and cruise around? We’ll be your guides for the day.”

Dylan said, “That sounds great, thanks.”

“No probs. It’ll be something to do and it’ll be fun.”

Robert stood up. “You can count me out; I’ve got something I’ve got to do. I might catch up with you later. Don’t go home without me.”

Christian looked up at him. “What’ve you got to do, Robert?”

“I, umm . . . never you mind. Later.” He walked away.

Christian and Roman looked at each other and shook their heads.

“The boy’s an idiot!”

“He is. He’s thinking with his dick again.”

“As usual. Someone should tell Ma.”

“Someone’s not going to. Mind your own, Christian.”

“Why’s this Mary Lamb so bad?” Dylan queried.

“She’s the town bike. She’s nearly old enough to be his mother and she likes young boys – really likes them.”

“Eww!”

“Yeah, eww. Well, Robert’s busy for an hour or two. Want to go?”

“Will the car be all right here?”

“Safer than Fort Knox. Come on then.”

Roman had already put his car out in the street, so they said goodbye and thanks to Ma, (Jeremy was sitting in the chair with her), and they walked out to the street.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 5

While they were busy, Dylan and William had a good look around the car. There were a few small scratches around the front – no big deal. A can of spray paint would fix that. One small dent, but no other apparent damage anywhere. They were lucky. Dylan might even survive to drive another day.

Back inside, Robert made them another drink. William said, “Do you want us to strip the sheets off the bed?”

Robert said, “Why? Did you piss the bed?”

“No, we did not! And nothing else either.”

“Nothing? You must’ve been tired. No, leave the bed. You might want to come back and sleep again tonight.”

“Could we? That might be good, but we were planning on going down to Brownsville today.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Roman came in. “Brownsville’s a crap town. Stay in Westpoint, you can’t see it all in one day.”

“Dead right!” Robert agreed. “Stay here and have a rest. You can go to Brownsville some other time.”

“Yeah, we’ll do that,” Dylan nodded. “We’ll stay around here. Thanks, Guys.”

“No probs. It’s going to be a good day, the sun will be out soon and there’s nowhere like the Coast on a fine day.”

William looked doubtfully at the gray sky outside. “How do you know it’ll be sunny? It doesn’t look like it.”

“It will,” Christian said. “Everyone’s an expert on the weather around here. Besides, Robbie, on the radio, said that it will be and he’d know. The weather forecast is never wrong.”

“Yeah, right,” the others chuckled. “The weather forecast is as reliable as a two-dollar watch.”

Dylan said, “It’s the same at home. They just keep saying that it’s going to rain, until it does, and then they say it’s going to be fine.”

“Has your town got its own radio?”

“No, but we can get Christchurch stations, and I think there’s a repeater.”

“Good for you. We can’t get Christchurch stations here, too many mountains in the way.”

“Who’d want to anyway?” Robert said. “West FM’s as good as any of them.”

“Yeah,” Christian agreed. “And they’ve got the Seeker.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” Roman grinned. “I could get worried this crush of yours. Just as well the Seeker never goes anywhere.”

“Why doesn’t he?” William asked.

“Don’t know. He’s on the radio, at school or at home. That’s about it really. The Seeker’s like Superman, his alter-ego is a nerd.”

“Has Superboy got an alter-ego?”

“No, Justin’s always super. Okay, if everyone’s finished here, we’ll go to town.”

They covered the fire, closed the house up, (but didn’t lock it), and got into the cars. Robert rode with Roman. Christian sat next to Dylan and William had the backseat, because he was the smallest and they had far too much junk in there.

“You okay there, William?” Christian looked back.

“Yeah, I’m fine. There’s enough room for me.”

“Just enough. You guys have got so much stuff! Were you planning on staying a month?”

“No,” Dylan replied. “Just two nights. I was a boy scout, I like to be prepared.”

“Weren’t prepared for a cow on the road though, were you?”

“Well, no. No-one expects a cow on the road.”

“Like the Spanish Inquisition then.”

“The Spanish Inquisition?”

“Yeah. No-one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition. Look it up on Youtube, Monty Python and the Spanish Inquisition. Very funny.”

There was just enough room in the wide backyard to turn the cars in a circle, one towing the other. They crawled out to the highway, turned right and headed west, to Westpoint.

Dylan had expected that it would be a slow trip, but it wasn’t. It was a good road, there still wasn’t much traffic around, and they travelled at normal speed, maybe even faster than usual.

“It’s weird, travelling like this with no engine noise.”

“It is,” William agreed. “It’s very quiet. Funny how much noise the tyres make though. I thought we’d be going slower than this.”

“I was thinking the same thing. It’s okay, but he’s not wasting any time, is he?”

“That’s Roman for you,” Christian said. “Roman’s the best guy and he is a good driver, but he thinks he’s bombproof. This is slow for him. I blame his parents.”

“His parents?”

“Yeah, it’s the way he was raised. Roman’s family think that they’re better than anyone else and normal rules don’t apply to them.”

“We’ve got people like that in Kaimoana too,’ William grumbled.

“Yeah, Damian’s family,” Dylan said. “They’re finding out they’re not though, aren’t they? Dianne Sullivan’s getting stuck into them.”

“She is, and bloody good thing too. I hate those people!”

“Let it go, Wills.”

“Umm, yeah,” Christian changed the subject. “Here’s the Crossroads. Only about 5k to go now. That’s the road that takes you down the Coast to Brownsville.”

“Wills knows that. He reads maps.”

“Shut up, Dills! At least I read.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“There’s Westpoint,” Christian pointed ahead. “Best town in the country.”

“Well, maybe one of them. And there’s the sea. It’s the Tasman Sea on the west, isn’t it? We’re on the Pacific on the east coast. New Zealand’s not big, is it? You can drive right across it in a few hours.”

“If you don’t run into any cows, yeah. Some people run it. They have a race every year, the Coast to Coast, from Kumara Beach to Sumner Beach, in Christchurch – running, biking and kayaking. Most people take two days, but some do it in one. Roman says he’s going to do it next year. He’ll be doing it on his own.”

“Not for you, Christian?”

“Definitely not. Cars are good.”

“They are, when they’re going.”

“And, here we go. Down the hill, past Lover’s Lane, over the bridge and we’ll be in Westpoint.”

“It’s looking good. Good that the sun came out. That’s a big river.”

“It’s big. You should see it when it’s in flood!”

William spoke-up from the backseat. “It’s the 5th biggest river in the country, but when it’s in flood, it’s the biggest by far.”

“Is it? I didn’t know that and I’ve lived here all my life. How do you know that?”

“Wills knows everything,” Dylan nodded. “He’s got a computer for a brain and he’s a bright boy, my Wills. He’s educating me.”

“He must be bright. You’re older than him, aren’t you?”

“Only on the outside,” William grinned.

“Yeah,” Dylan grinned back. “That’s probably true too.”

“Okay,” Christian grinned as well. “Carver’s Beach is out that way. That’s a suburb, with the airport, golf links and a really cool beach. And, here we are. Slow down, Roman. Dammit!”

They crossed the wide bridge over the placid river. On the left, they could see all the way down to the sea. After the tangled banks of willows on the riverbank, was the long line of old wooden wharves with a couple of old cranes reaching for the sky.

A cement-company boat was tied up at the silos and a huge coal-barge further along. Down off the bridge, a sweeping corner took them over the railway line and around into the main street. Then Roman slowed down, right down.

He had to because they’d caught up to the rear-end of a long line of brightly-coloured house-trucks, buses, trailers and caravans.

“Hey! Very cool,” Christian said. “The Gypsy Fair’s in town!”

“The Gypsy Fair?” Dylan said. “They come to Kaimoana too, about once a year. They parade around the town, and then they set-up at the race-course for a couple of days.”

“That’s what they do here too,” Christian replied. “They camp at our race-course too, Pattinson Park. That’s just down the road from Ma’s place. I work at the race-course, I’ve got an after-school job there.”

“Yeah? Doing what?”

“Shovelling shit, mostly. I clean the stables. Roman helps me, but he doesn’t get paid, he just does it for love.”

“Ain’t love grand?”

“It surely is!”

William said, “Dills, would you shovel shit for me?”

“You know I would.”

Christian continued, “I love the Gypsy Fair. I don’t think I’m too keen on this though.”

“You’re not too keen on what?”

“It looks like we’re joining the parade. Trust Roman! He couldn’t resist that. Oh, well. Smile and wave at the locals, Guys.”

Music playing, horns blaring, flags and banners waving, the line of vehicles started moving down the street. Roman drove slowly along behind them. The big house-truck just ahead of them had a sun-deck on the roof and there was a gaudily-dressed, teenage boy sitting on a chair up there.

At least, they thought it was a boy, it was hard to tell, it might easily have been a girl. He, (She? It?), had very long black hair and was wearing a long-sleeved yellow shirt, open down the front and knotted at the waist, a red and gold scarf and, very, tight and brief blue shorts. He had bare feet and his long and slender, tanned and golden, legs were propped up on the railing around the sun-deck.

“Whoah!” said William. “What is that up there?”

“Probably one of their whores,” Christian replied. “They’ve always got a few – boys as well as girls.”

“Oh?” Dylan queried. “And you know this how? Customer, are you?”

“Shut up! I am not. I just hear the talk around the stables.”

“Yeah, sure. We’ll believe you.”

“Well you’d better – it’s true.”

“Okay then. Wills, you stop looking. You’re too young for that sort of thing.”

“That’s not what you said this morning, Dills.”

“Shut up, Wills,” Dylan blushed while the others laughed.

“Damm, Roman,” Christian complained.

“What’s he done now?”

“That’s the last street where you can turn off to avoid the busy area, So we’re going to do the whole length of the main street. Smile and wave.

Oh, priceless! There’s Roman’s grandmother. The snobby old witch hates me. Give her a big cheesy grin.”

The houses and motels ended and they started passing shops and offices. Most of them were old, but well-kept, and had wide sheltering verandahs over the sidewalks.

“St. John’s theatre there, our movie theatre. Some of Whozzat’s Movie was filmed there. Roman and I were both there, but we weren’t together. It was years ago and we were just kids. Have you seen Whozzat’s Movie?”

“I don’t think so,” William replied. “Whozzat were a group weren’t they? A New Zealand band.”

“They were a Westpoint group. They still are but they’re mostly retired now. Most of them still live here in Westpoint. You should watch it sometime, there’s lots of good shots of Westpoint in there.

See that garage there? That’s Tony Duncan’s. He’s the singer in Whozzat.”

Dylan said, “Of course you know Whozzat, Wills. They did the theme song for Billy’s Burgers adverts – Simply the Best.”

“Oh yeah,” William grinned. “That’s whose Whozzat are.”

“There’s Billy’s Burgers, on the left there,” Christian said. “There’s another one, in Derby Street near the schools, but that was the original – the first Billy’s Burgers ever.”

“The first ever?” said Dylan. “Not very big, is it?”

“Well, no. It’s not a very big town. They’ve got a couple of factories around town too. There’s the Adelphi hotel, that’s where Superboy and Billy live, with their kid."

“They’ve got a hotel as well?”

“It’s not theirs, they just live there. Superboy’s grandparents own it.

There’s my mother. Hello, Mummy Dearest! Cheesy grins, Guys. She hates us too.”

“You don’t get on with your families?”

“Not at all. They don’t want to know us. No great loss, we never did get on much anyway. ‘Bye, Mummy Dearest.”

“Is she a snob too?”

“No, just a nasty drunk.”

It took a long time, but they reached the end of the long street. At least they got a good look at the business area of the town. The house-trucks etc. were going around the block to go back for a second time, but Roman, (finally!), left them and carried on up to Derby Street and the Carver’s house.

He turned in off the street and down the drive to the back of the house.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 4

“You’ve got your own chooks here?” Dylan asked.

“Yes, dozens of them. They roam around everywhere and sometimes the eggs are old when we find them. There’s no way of telling until you crack them open.”

“Nice surprises then?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Christian and Roman went out and returned with Robert and plates of eggs & chips for everyone.”

“Here you go. Hot, fast and easy – like me! Eat it before it’s cold.”

And, they did. There was no conversation while the meals were demolished. Roman took the empty plates away and they sat back with their drinks.

“So,” Robert began. “How did you put your car off the road and where did it happen?”

“We had a nut behind the steering wheel,” William grinned.

“Shut it, Wills. We did not! We were coming around that place called Windy Point and a gust of wind caught the car. I was fighting to control it and there was a bloody great cow on the road! I braked and swerved to miss it, skidded off the road, into the scrub and into a ditch, and here we are. Damm. I hope it wasn’t your cow? It took off like greased lightning.”

“Yeah,” William agreed. It’s a wonder it didn’t jump over the moon. It’s probably in Westpoint by now.”

“No, it’s not ours. We haven’t got any cows, just chooks, ducks, goats and pigs. It’s probably from Van der Geest’s, down the road a bit. Their fences are pretty shoddy. Long way from home though.”

“Yeah? So are we.”

“Where are you from?”

“Kaimoana. Heard of it?”

“Course. Little town up the east coast – whales, seals, fish and stuff.”

“That’s us. It’s a pretty cool town.”

“Yeah? So’s Westpoint”

They sat around talking. Christian flicked the radio on.

“What’s on the news?”

“Probably just more car crashes.”

The track playing finished and the announcer came on.

“Oh, yeah! Way cool. Local music for local people. That was for Bruce who’s got a huge crush on Loretta, but that’s a secret, so don’t tell anyone. You’re tuned to the Seeker, on West FM, the Voice of the Coast. Go Westpoint. Now, it’s news time.”

“The Seeker is the voice of the Coast?” William nodded at the radio.

“No, West FM is the Voice of the Coast,” Christian replied. “The Seeker is the new early-night DJ, Conrad Keenan. He’s really cool.”

“And Christian’s got a huge crush on him,” Roman grinned.

“Shut up, Roman! I have not. I just think he’s cool. How many teens have got their own radio show?”

“Not a lot. Probably just the one’s who’ve got an uncle who owns the station.”

“Robbie’s got nothing to do with it. Anyway, the Seeker’s way better than he ever was.”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember when Robbie was a kid, he’s been there forever. And, you have got a crush.”

“I’ll crush you!”

“Anytime, Kid.”

Robert frowned. “Behave yourselves! We’ve got company here.”

“Yes, Mum. Sorry, Mum.”

“Shove it, Dallas.”

“Eww!”

“Behave. If you guys are finished there, come and I’ll show you where you’re sleeping. Bug’s room is right next to the toilet, so that’s handy. Do you want some boxers, or are you happy to sleep naked?”

“We don’t need boxers, we always sleep in the buff,” William replied.

“Yeah? I’ll bet you do. Come on.”

“Hey, Guys,” Roman said. “Before you go, do you want to phone your parents and tell them what’s happened?”

“Hell no,” Dylan replied. “They’re not expecting to hear from us and what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“Yeah,” William agreed. “We’re not ringing them until we know what’s going on. They’d only worry and Dills’ mother would have all night to think up a list of punishments for him. It’s her car y’know.”

“You’re going to be in trouble?”

“Majorly! With a bit of luck she might throw me out and I’ll go and live with Aunt Sarah.”

“Aunt Sarah?”

“Yeah, Wills’ mum.”

“I don’t think you’d mind that a bit.”

“He wouldn’t!” William grinned. “And neither would I.”

“Oh well. Get some sleep, and then we’ll go and see what we can do in the morning. With a bit of luck, I might be able to pull you out with my car.”

“It’d be great if it’s that easy. Thanks, Guys. G’night and we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay. Not too early, the first one up has to light the kitchen fire.”

“And it’s never you, Roman Dallas.”

“Not often. I don’t see you rushing out to do it either, Mr. Mathieson.”

“Shut up. Goodnight.”

“’Nite all.”

Christian and Roman went to their room in the small cottage across the backyard.

Robert said, “If you need me, I’ll be in my room, over there in that cottage.”

“So, no-one’s sleeping in the house? You didn’t lock the doors.”

“Mum sleeps in the house, but she’s not here. We never lock anything, there’s no need. No-one’s going to break into a Carver house, unless they’re sick of living.”

William said, “A Carver house? I thought you said your name was Mathieson?”

“Yeah, it is, but we’re still Carvers. Mum was a Carver and Ma Carver is our gran. Nobody, but nobody, messes with Ma. She’s a scary lady and she’s got her own army. Toilet’s in there and you’re sleeping in here, off the back verandah. If you’re up first in the morning, help yourself to coffee, or whatever, but you’ve got to light the fire. See you in the morning.”

“Yeah, g’night, Robert and thanks again. You’re a lifesaver and our hero.”

“Pah!” he said, walking away. “Everyone’s a hero in Superboy’s town.”

“Superboy’s town?” William mused. “He must be something else, this Superboy. Shame we’re not going to meet him.”

“Yeah, shame. Boo-hoo. Come on, Wills. Let’s go to bed.”

There was no sex that night, they just got into bed, cuddled-up together and went to sleep. The next day started with a bang though. Dylan woke in the morning to find his hard dick in William’s mouth and the most beautiful boy in the world going down on him.

He said nothing, just responded with a grunt and, very soon, let go. A grinning William crawled up and kissed him, and then kept going up until he presented his dick to Dylan’s welcoming mouth. Dylan’s hands slid around the boy’s beautiful body as he returned the favour. William was soon doing all the work though. When he was drained as well, he came back down and they kissed again.

“Good morning, My Dills.”

“Good morning, Gorgeous, and, yeah, so far it’s very good.”

“Plenty more where that came from! Come and have a coffee and we’ll find our clothes.”

They got out of bed, wrapped in the blankets and went to the kitchen. The open fire was blazing merrily, but there was no-one there. Dylan switched on the electric kettle to make 2 instant coffees while William went back to the other room next to the toilet out the back.

It was, as he suspected, the laundry and the clothes dryer was in there. He recovered their clothes and took them to the kitchen.

He and Dylan both dressed quickly and they were sitting drinking the coffee when Robert came stumbling in. He went straight to the bench and picked up the coffee pot.

“Damm! This thing’s empty.”

“Good morning to you,” Dylan grinned. “We didn’t use the percolator, I just made instant coffees.”

“Better than nothing, I s’pose.”

Robert made himself an instant coffee and stood by the fire to drink it. He drained the cup, and then said, “Yeah, good morning. Good you got the fire going.”

“It wasn’t us,” William said. “It was already going when we came in.”

“It was? I thought I heard a car.”

He looked out of the window, and then took out his cell, tapped-out a number and held it to his ear. After a minute, he closed the phone and returned it to his pocket.

“No reply, so they’re not heading into town. They must’ve gone the other way – up to where your car is. We’ll just have to wait and see. I’ll make us a proper coffee. I don’t eat breakfast, do you want anything?”

William said, “No breakfast? Oh well, we’ll survive, I guess.”

“Not keen are you? Have a look in the fridge. Make yourself a sandwich or something.”

“Cool. Thanks, I will.”

“Wills will,” Dylan said. “Sorry about this. He’s always hungry. Claims he’s growing.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t look like it. It’s okay, there’s plenty there. I’m always hungry too, just not in the mornings.”

William found cold, sliced, roast beef in the fridge, so he made sandwiches for himself and Dylan. Robert didn’t want any, coffee was quite enough. They were sitting at the table, eating, when a car pulled-up outside. Robert stood up and looked out of the window.

“It’s Christian and Roman,” he said. “They’ve got a surprise for you.”

“They have?” William stood and looked out. “Dills, they’ve got the car! Very cool. That’s great!”

William rushed out of the door, closely followed by the others. Roman was in his own car and had towed Dylan’s one, steered by Christian. They stood next to the cars, grinning proudly.

“Good morning, Guys,” Christian beamed. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, very well,” Dylan grinned back. “Wow, Guys! This is great. We never expected this. Thanks!”

Roman said, “No problems, Mate. We never expected it either. We just went out to find it and see what we’d need. The rain’s stopped and it looked easy enough, so we slung a rope on it and the sucker popped right out of there. No trouble at all.”

“Yeah,’ Christian agreed. “It’s only a little car, Roman’s one moved it easy. Doesn’t seem to be much damage. You were lucky.”

“They were,” Roman said. “If you had’ve hit that tree, it would’ve been a different story – you just missed it. We probably could’ve driven it back, but we didn’t have the keys. Have you got them?”

“Yeah, I have.” Dylan pulled the keys from his pocket. “I don’t remember taking them. Force of habit I guess.”

“Phaw!” Robert huffed. “You don’t need keys to start a car. Why didn’t you hot-wire it?”

“Spoken like a true Carver,” Roman replied. “We wouldn’t know how to hot-wire a car.”

“It’s easy. I’ll show you sometime. Dylan, why don’t you get in and try it?”

“Yeah, no trouble.”

He got into the driver’s seat and tried the car. And tried, and tried – it wasn’t happening. He gave up before he flattened the battery, popped the hood and got out again. They all stood around the engine, looking at it cluelessly. There was nothing obviously wrong, no obvious damage, it just wasn’t going.

“Robert?” They all looked to him. “Any ideas?”

“Not a bloody clue,” he shrugged. “Sorry, but I’m probably the only Carver who knows nothing about cars.”

Dylan said, “Oh well, can’t win them all. I’ll ring the AA and get someone to come out and have a look.”

“No, stuff that. That’ll cost you money,” Robert said. “I want to go to town anyway. We’ll all go. Roman can tow you in and we’ll go to Ma’s. There’ll be someone there who can fix it. They’re all good with cars, except me.”

“That’s a plan,” Roman agreed. “We’re going to town too. We’ll clean-up, have something to eat, and then we’ll go and see the Carvers.”

“Brilliant! Thanks. You’re lifesavers.”

“Yeah well. You have to really. It’s good to help.”

(Actually, no-one had any intentions of going into town, it was just easier to pretend that they did.)

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 3

"Si hoc legere scis, nimiam eruditionem habes" - Anybody? Lloyd?


A dog immediately started barking loudly. Someone yelled at it.

“Shut the fuck up, Bruno! Dumb dog! We can hear a knock too. Some bloody watch-dog you are! Get out of here!”

The door opened and a tall, skinny, red-haired boy looked out. “Hello!” he snapped.

“Whoah,” William said. “Sorry to disturb you. We’ve had a bit of trouble - put the car off the road and into a ditch. Can we please use your phone to call for help?”

“The phone? You’re off the road? Look, I’m sorry. The dumb dog upsets me. Come on in out of the rain.”

“Dylan said, “Do you think we should? We’re awfully wet.”

“And getting wetter. Come inside where it’s warm.”

They stepped into the warm kitchen. The boy closed the door and grinned at the pair of them standing there, dripping water and embarrassed.

“Sorry,” Dylan said. “I did tell you that we’re wet.”

“Of course you’re bloody wet. It’s not a problem. I don’t think you’re going to flood us out.”

“Robert? Who’ve you got here?” Another boy came through from the next room.

“Well I don’t know. Just a couple of strangers who’ve run off the road and want to use the phone.”

“A couple of very wet strangers! Are you hurt, Guys? Is anyone else with you?”

“No, there’s just us and we’re fine. Maybe a bit shaken up.” Dylan replied.

“Of course you are. You picked a bugger of a night to do it!”

“We weren’t planning on it,” William said.

“Of course you weren’t. Look, come and sit by the fire in the big room and I'll get you some towels.”

“We don’t want to be a bother,” Dylan said.

“It’s not a bother. The fire’s going and you’re cold and wet. Come and sit by it. Robert, could you go and get Roman? I think he’s out in the workshop.”

“He will be. He lives in the bloody workshop. I’m not going out in the rain. I’ll call him on his cell.”

“You’ve got cell-phone coverage here?” William said. “We tried just up the road and there wasn’t any.”

“No? Well there is here. Just as well too. You guys go and dry off and I’ll make some tea.”

Dylan said, “Tea? Not for me, thanks. I’m a coffee drinker.”

“Tonight you’ll have tea, it’s medicinal, hot and sweet, it’s good for the nerves. Everyone knows that.”

“Okay. Maybe just one then.”

“Good thinking,” said the other boy. “Come through here.”

They followed him through to the other room. ‘Big’ did not even begin to describe it. This room was humungous! It even had two fireplaces.

“Wait there, by the open-fire, and I’ll get some towels.”

He went back to the kitchen and returned with a handful of towels. He handed them one each, telling them to dry their heads, and spread a couple on the couch facing the fire.

“There you go. Now you can sit down without getting Mrs. M’s couch wet. My name’s Christian, what’s yours?”

“I’m William and this is Dylan.”

“William and Dylan. Are you brothers, or what?”

“No, we’re just mates. We are cousins, but mostly we’re friends.”

“Mostly? Yeah, Robert’s our friend too, sometimes.”

“I heard that, Squires!” Robert called from the kitchen.

“Suck it up, Mathieson!” Christian replied with a grin.

Another boy, ‘tall, dark and handsome’, came into the room.

“What’ve you got here, Christian? Strangers in the night, is it?”

“Something like that, yeah. Guys, this is my mate, Roman. Roman, these are William and Dylan. They just turned up at the door; they’ve put their car off the road.”

“You’ve had an accident? Are you hurt?”

“No, we’re fine,” William replied. “We’re just wet and stranded. We’ll call a tow-truck, and then we’ll be on our way.”

“I don’t like your chances.” Robert came in with a big teapot and a bottle of milk. “If you’re off the road, you’re not blocking it. There’s only 2 tow-trucks in Westpoint and I can’t see them coming out on a night like this.”

“Too true,” Roman nodded. “You’re probably going to have to wait until the morning.”

Dylan said, “Damm. Oh well, I guess we can go back and sleep in the car.”

“In the rain? I thought you said it was in a ditch?”

“Yeah, it is, but it’s upright and not broken or anything, just stuck.”

Christian said, “You’re not sleeping in your car. You can stay here with us. We’ve got 14 bedrooms and just the 3 of us at home.”

“Fourteen bedrooms! Have you really got that many?”

“Yes, really. Eight in the house and six in the sleep-outs. We had a big family,” Robert grinned.

“You must’ve!” William exclaimed.

“Yeah. Not that many, but we had a lot. Most of them have left home now. There’s just Mum, Ross and I, and these 2 refugees left. Ross is my twin, he’s in town for the night. He’s meant to be at Ma’s, but he’s more likely at his girlfriend’s. Mum’s away working, she won’t be back until Sunday.”

“So there’s just you three here then. Where’s your father?”

“In the cemetery, pushing up the daisies. He died, years ago, and left Mum with 8 kids.”

“That must’ve been tough on her.”

“Yeah, it was. But she came from a big family too; they helped. Our grandmother lives in Westpoint and there’s heaps of uncles and aunties and stuff.”

“Stuff is good,” William grinned. “How far is it to Westpoint? We were hoping to get there tonight.”

“Well, you won’t be. It’s 25k’s, not that far – Superboy runs out here sometimes.”

“Superboy?”

“Yeah, our brother. He lives in town with our brother, Billy. I’ll get the mugs and stuff and we’ll have that tea.”

Robert went out, and returned with the mugs. William and Dylan sat on the towels on the couch and watched as he poured the drinks, shovelling plenty of sugar into them. Dylan shuddered, which wasn’t hard to do, he was still shivering anyway.

Roman said, “Actually, I’ve got a car; I could run you into Westpoint. Is anyone expecting you there?”

“No, we don’t know anyone there,” Dylan replied.

William said, “We’ve got a tent, but that won’t be happening. It’s too wet for that. We’ll find a motel somewhere.”

“No, stuff that,” Christian said. “Stay here with us. You’re here now anyway.”

“Well, yeah, thanks,” Dylan replied. “It’s good to be out of that rain.”

They sat and drank the tea. It was sickly-sweet, but it was hot and that was good.

“Okay,” Roman said. “You stay here with us and tomorrow, in the daylight, we’ll see what we can do about your car. It’ll be all right there for the night, won’t it?”

“Guess so. It’s not going anywhere.”

Christian said, “That’s a plan then. You two are still shivering. Finish your drinks and you can get in the shower. That’ll warm you up. Leave your sneakers here, by the fire, and I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer.”

“That’ll work,” Roman agreed. “I’ll get some blankets and you can wrap-up in them. Have you eaten?”

William said, “Not for a couple of hours!”

“Time you did then. Robert?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll rustle up some food – something hot.”

“Sounds great. Thanks. We can pay you.”

“There’s no need for that. Rescuing refugees is what we do here, isn’t it, Guys?”

“Right!” Christian and Roman agreed. “And you do it well.”

“You two were refugees?”

“Yeah, we were. Our parents threw us out, Mrs. M took us in, so we live here now.”

“That was good of her,” William said. “Why did your parents throw you out?”

Roman said, “Because we’re gay – gay and together.”

“You two are together? So are we.”

“Damm!” Roberts said. “More gayboys. I’m always surrounded by them. Well, you’ll only need one bedroom then. You can sleep in Bugs’ room. That’s already seen plenty of action.”

“Bugs’ room?”

“Yeah, Bugs. He’s our other gay brother, we’ve got heaps of them. Him and his partner are away at ‘varsity, flatting together of course.”

Roman said, “That will save on the hot water too. It’s a big old shower so you can both get in there together. You’ve must’ve done that before.”

“Yes, we have,” Dylan replied. “Guys, we’re grateful for your help and everything and we are gay, but we’re together and we don’t play around with anyone else.”

“Good job too,” Roman replied. “Because we don’t either. Christian would kill me!”

“Yes he would,” Christian agreed. “Okay, come and I’ll show you where the shower is.”

They had a quick shower, which was great. There’s no better way to warm up. After that, they went back to the fire, wrapped in blankets, sat on the couch and talked and drank more tea.

William was quiet as he sat studying Robert. Robert finally had to ask, “Something wrong?”

“I was just thinking. You’re a local, Westpoint’s the home of Billy’s Burgers, isn’t it? Are you related? You look like their logo.”

“He does!” Dylan agreed. “I thought you looked sort of familiar. It’s not you, is it?”

“No, it’s not me, but that’s good spotting. The logo is a cartoon of Billy, he’s my brother.”

“Billy is your brother? Wow! You must be sweet for burgers.”

“Yeah, sweet – sometimes. Sometimes he’s as tight as a fish’s bum.”

“Billy is not!” Christian protested. “He’s a good guy, Billy. He and Superboy both are. They do a lot of good for a lot of people.”

“Yeah, okay, they do. He’s still just my brother though. They both are.”

“Damm,” Dylan said. “I wish I had a brother who had a million burger bars.”

“They haven’t got a million of them, yet. But they’re working on it, or, Mum is anyway.”

“Your mum is working on it?”

“Yeah, she works for them. She's the General Manager, or whatever. That’s why she’s away now. She’s up in Auckland, on business again.

Actually, they’ve got so many businesses around Auckland, Mum reckons that they should move the Head Office and distribution center up there. But Superboy says no, it stays in Westpoint.”

“So, is this Superboy the real boss?”

“Kind of, yeah. He’s Billy’s partner.”

“He’s gay too, is he?”

“Only with Billy. They’re a couple, have been for years.”

“Good for them. Why do you call him Superboy?”

“Because he is. He’s super and he’s a boy, kind of. You won’t see them around, they’re away on holiday again. I think they’re in America.”

“They are,” said Roman. “They’re running in the Boston Marathon. Superboy could win it too, easy, but he won’t because he won’t run away from Billy.”

“Sounds like they’re a good couple.”

“Oh they are!” Christian said. “They’re an inspiration to us all. Robert, are you going to feed us, or what?”

Robert stood up. “Yeah, I am; I was just waiting for the fryer to warm up. Eggs and chips okay with everybody?”

“Sounds good,” said Dylan. “Unless you want to do burgers?”

“Not in this house! I don’t do burgers; I’m not Billy.”

“You’re pretty super though.

“Shut up, Roman.”

Christian and Roman both went with Robert to the kitchen, leaving William and Dylan in front of the fire.

“You okay, Wills?”

“Oh, yes. Very okay. You?”

“I’m good. Very comfy. These are good guys.”

“They are. You couldn’t have picked a better door to knock on.”

“There wasn’t a lot to choose from, but, yeah. We struck it lucky, I think.”

“We did! Certainly beats putting up a tent in the rain.”

“You can say that again.”

“Beats putting up a tent in the rain.”

“Shut up, Dork! Wills, you keep that blanket wrapped tightly around you.”

“Why? No-one’s going to try anything. Christian and Roman are a couple and Robert’s straight.”

“Gorgeous Boy, the way you look is enough to make any guy think twice.”

“It is not.”

“It is too!”

“I love you, Dills.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

“Bloody do!”

“Bloody don’t!”

“Mum! The children are fighting.” Roman came back and stood in front of the fire, facing them. “And what are you two squabbling about?”

Dylan said, “Not a lot. Just who loves who the most.”

“Yeah. And it’s me,” William grinned.

“Not!”

“Is too!”

“Ah,” Roman grinned. “Ain’t love grand? Kicking me out was the best thing my dumbass parents ever did. Now I get to live with my Boy, full-time.”

“You wouldn’t go back then?”

“Not without Christian.”

“Very cool. We used to live together full-time too.”

“You used to, but not now?”

“No, not now. Wills’ parents moved out, to their new house, so he had to go with them.”

“You lived together and his parents were there too?”

“Yeah, and my parents. We’re cousins. Wills’ father is my mum’s brother.”

“I see, I think. So you’re like ‘kissing cousins’ then?”

“Oh yah!” William grinned. “Very like. One day we’ll live together again, just not yet. For now, we have to grab all the time we can get.”

“Like this weekend?”

“Exactly. It started off bad, but it’s getting better.”

“That’s good. You’ve come to the right place.”

Dylan said, “We were just saying that. Thanks for letting us stay.”

“No problem. Stay as long as you like. We know what it’s like to be wandering around with no place to go. I don’t know what we would’ve done if Mrs. M hadn’t taken us in.”

“She sounds like a good lady.”

“She is, she’s the best.”

William said, “She must be pretty cool, having gayboys living in her house. And she’s got gay sons too?”

“She has. Well, 2 out of 5 of them. Of course, the first one to come out was Billy, and he’s with Superboy. Any mother would be glad for her boy to be with Superboy, she’d be mad not to.”

“Because he’s rich?”

“No, because he’s super. Superboy’s not rich, I think. He’s got some money but he works for it. They both do. They were still at school when they got together.”

“Yeah? So were we – we’re still there.”

“We are too, so far.”

Christian came in with a big plate of bread and butter, the tomato sauce, (Watties’ of course), and a handful of cutlery for everyone.

“You guys want more tea, or should we have OJ or coke?”

“Coke!” Dylan stressed. “Definitely coke, thanks.”

“No probs, we’ve got plenty. Roman, coke or Billy’s OJ?”

“Thanks, I’ll have OJ.”

“Of course you will.” He returned to the kitchen.

“Billy’s OJ?” William queried.

“The orange juice that they sell in Billy’s burgers, honey-sweetened and carbonated. They make it in Westpoint and we get it for free.”

“Must be nice being related to Billy’s Burgers.”

“I guess it is. We’re not really, but it’s close.”

Christian came back with the bottles of drink and glasses. “Robert’s bloody disgusting!”

“Why, what’s he done?”

“He cracked an egg, there was a chicken in it and he’s deep-frying it.”

“He’s disgusting.”

Wills & Dills in Westpoint, 2

They were soon out into a wide valley and they could see the lights of some widely-scattered farms. They had pine trees around them, naturally.

The next place they came to was Springs Junction, where a road branched off to Murchison and Nelson. There were a few big buildings there, a service station and a shop, and a lot of smaller buildings – houses and holiday homes.

“Holiday homes? In the mountains?”

“Yeah. Well, near the mountains. Some people like the high country for tramping, climbing, skiing, shooting and stuff.”

“And freezing their butts off in the snow and ice. Not for me, thanks.”

“No, nor me. I’d rather be down by the beaches, it’s warmer there.”

“It is. Dunno why you like the beach, you don’t swim much and you don’t surf.”

“I swim, when it’s warm, and I’m going to surf, you’re going to teach me.”

“Oh yeah!”

They left Springs Junction and its valley and the road started climbing up again.

“Hey! I thought it was all downhill from the top of the pass?”

“Mostly downhill. We have to go up the Rahu Saddle – not as high as the pass, but we’ve got to go up and over it. Then it’s downhill.”

“Mostly.”

“Yeah, mostly. This is the last big hill though.”

“It is? How far have we got to go?”

“A hundred and something kilometers. Still too far to walk, but we’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

“The sooner the better.”

“Yep.”

“Try the radio again, Wills. We might get something now.”

They didn’t.

“Oh well. More show tunes?”

“Yep.”

There were more kilometers and kilometers of wilderness and nothingness, broken only by the occasional farm. Then, they came to Riverston, which was a fair-sized town, probably nearly as big as Kaimoana, but more concentrated in its river valley. They saw no chain stores there, apart from a Billy’s Burgers.

“Are we not stopping here to eat?”

“No, we’re not. Only an hour to go now and we’ll be there. Then we’ll stop and eat.”

“I can’t wait! Drive faster, Dills. I’m starving.”

“You always are.”

“Told you, I’m growing.”

“You’re gonna be huge!”

“Shut up, Dills.”

A couple of kilometers past Riverston, there was a big old cemetery on the side of the main road and next to the railway line. William went very quiet.

“Wills? You’re thinking about Damian, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sighed. “Bloody Damian! You think that place has got any stories like his?”

“Probably. Every town has its tragedies.”

“Our one did.”

“Yeah, it did. Love you, Wills.”

“Thanks. I love you too.”

They went down the Inangahua Valley, farms on both sides of them, through Isherwood, a tiny town, and soon into the Lower Bulls River Gorge. They were back in wilderness again – just the road and the river, with the railway line over the far side of it, and high bush-clad hills on either side.

The bush was no longer the mountain beeches, this was the dense and tangled West Coast rain-forest. There was hardly any other traffic on the road, it was very quiet for a Friday evening. At least it had stopped raining – for now.

The boys were both quiet as they went along. They were sick of travelling, they were tired and almost mesmerized by the trees flicking past in the headlights. They would both be glad when they came to the journey’s end.

It ended sooner than they expected.

At the lower end of the gorge, a road sign warned that they were approaching ‘Windy Point’, and it had a cartoon of a car being lifted sideways by a gust of wind. They weren’t kidding because that is almost exactly what happened.

Dylan came around the corner and an errant gust of wind caught the car and nearly lifted it. He took his foot off the gas and was struggling to keep the car on course and on the road, when suddenly there was a bloody great cow on the road in front of them!

A cow! In the middle of nowhere. They’d seen no farms for ages.

He jammed on the brakes and swerved to avoid it – too far and too fast on the wet, slick road, and they went right across the other side, off the road, crashed through the foliage and stopped suddenly when they nosed-down into a ditch, The engine died instantly, but the lights were still on, lighting up the bush all around them. The speakers were still singing about how Chicago was a mighty fine town.

Dylan stabbed the button and turned the noise off, and then the lights. It was dark and quiet.

“Oh fuck! Wills? Speak to me, Wills. Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “I’m all right. A box of birds. Really, I’m fine. How are you, Dills?”

“I’m good. This is a fine bloody mess I’ve gotten us into. Sorry, Wills.”

“Hey, it’s not like you planned it. Accidents happen and it could’ve been worse. Where did that cow come from anyway?”

“Dammed if I know. There’s no farms around here.”

“There’s not. Maybe it’s going to Westpoint for the weekend?”

“At the rate it took off, it’s probably there by now. Oh, Wills, what are we going to do?”

“Make love?”

“Shut up. We are not! Come on, we’d better get out of here and have a look.”

They got out of the car. William couldn’t get his door open because it was hard-up against a tree trunk, so he had to climb over and out of the driver’s door. They helped each other up and out to the side of the road.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Wills?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe a bit shook up. But are you okay, Dills?”

“I’m okay. It shook me too. Oh, Wills, I need a cuddle.”

“Me too!”

They moved into a hug and stood crying into each other. That felt better, so they stayed there for a long time.

A car came around the corner from the other way. It didn’t stop. As it approached, Dylan pushed back so he could have a look at his mate.

“Wills, you’re bleeding!”

“Am I? Oh, yeah. Just a scratch. A branch got me on the way out.”

“Bloody branch!”

“Yeah, the swine!”

“I’m sorry, Wills. I’m so, so sorry. Lord! I’d die if I really hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“Dills, it’s okay. We’re both alive and walking. Stop beating yourself up. It was an accident and you couldn’t help it.”

“I didn’t help at all. A better driver might have.”

“Doubt it. So, what are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know. I suppose we’d better call for help. It’s going to take a tow-truck to get the car out of there. We couldn’t shift it.”

“Not a show. What’s your mum going to say?”

“You mean before or after she kills me?”

“Yeah, we might be walking for a while.”

“I won’t be walking anywhere. I’ll be grounded for life! Have you got your cell? Mine’s in the car, somewhere.”

“Yeah, sure I’ve got it.” William took the cell-phone out of his pocket. “Who do we call?”

“Call the AA. 027326426.”

“Alcoholics Anonymous? You been drinking, Dills?”

“No, Dork! The Automobile Association. Mum’s a member and they have tow-trucks.”

“You think? Damm. There’s no coverage here.”

“No coverage? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Look, it’s not working. There’s too many hills around us, or something.”

“Bugger! So what do we do?”

“Start walking, I suppose. How far to Westpoint?”

“Not that much. About 20 or 25k’s. Still a long way to walk.”

“Yeah, it is, on a wet night. But we’d get there. We might come into cell-phone range, someone might pick us up or, if we come to a farmhouse, we can ask to use their phone. It’s not that late. It’s only about half past eight.”

“Okay, I’ll walk. You can wait in the car if you like.”

“No, I don’t like. I’m not staying here on my own in the dark. Where you go, I go. C’mon Dills, let’s walk.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Sure I am. It’ll do us good – settle the nerves down.”

“Okay, C’mon then.”

They started walking down the dark and quiet highway. It started raining again, just to make it even more enjoyable.

“Dills?”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you said we’d get wet if it rains? It’s working.”

“It is. Don’t we have fun?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes, not now. This is bloody wicked.”

“As in wicked bad?”

“Well, it’s not good. Sorry, Wills.”

“Shut up, Dills.”

Pretty soon they came to a red-painted drum mounted as a letter-box on the right-hand side of the road. A graveled driveway snaked off into the trees.

“You think there’s a house in there, Wills?”

“Could be. Let’s have a look.”

They started up the drive, around the first corner, and there was a light showing through the trees ahead of them.

“Cool. Civilization.”

“Yeah, let’s hope it’s not the wicked witch.”

“I already do!”

There was a big old house with trees growing close around it. They walked up to the door and it was a relief to get under the verandah and out of the rain.

They looked at each other in the light, and both thought that the other looked like a drowned rat.

“Oh, well,” William said. “Here goes nothing.”

He knocked on the door.

Wills & Dills in Westpoint

(Because Alastair was wondering - )

"Hey, Mr. James. How're you doing?"

"Hey, Ms. Archer. I'm good. What are you doing here?"

"Not a lot." She sat down beside him. "The same as you, just watching the kids' soccer practice. My brothers are out there. I didn't know that you were into soccer."

"I'm not really; I'm just waiting for Wills."

"Wills? Oh yeah, your cousin, William. He's a cute kid."

"He is. He's not just my cousin, he's my best friend too."

"Yeah? You two are pretty thick these days. You and him are like Siamese twins. What about Brodie? I thought he was your best friend."

"Brodie? Nah. Brodie's a mate, but he hasn't got a lot of time for me lately, he's far too busy."

"Busy doing what? Oh, don't tell me, I know. He's got a thing for Suzanne Woods, hasn't he?"

"He surely has! She's got a thing for him too, it's all good."

"Yeah, good for them. Man! There's been some changes in the Woods family. The mother's gone all religious, she's all-but living at the church. Suzanne's come out of her shell and got herself a boyfriend and Ashton's gone into a shell. He never goes anywhere or sees anyone now, just spends all his time at the de Groot's place. Maybe he's got a boyfriend too?

There's certainly some rich pickings there. Have you seen those cousins? Way cute, all of them. Mind you, the only one you ever see him with is Peter. He surely can't be into him."

"And why not? Peter's a nice enough kid."

"You think? No, Ashton's Mr. Cool, or he was, Peter de Groot is a bit of a dork, isn't he?"

"He's not at all. You just don't know him, Joyce. Would it worry you if they were boyfriends?"

"No. Why should it? Good luck to them, if that's what they want. None of my business anyway."

"You're right. It's not. You've got enough on your plate with Mac anyway. Where is Mac?"

"Over the other side there, being a dork."

"Yeah, I see him. Mac's not a dork."

"Okay, he's not. Don't tell him I said that."

"Don't tell him you said he's a dork?"

"No, Dylan. Don't tell him that I said he's not. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. What about you and your cousin? You've got me wondering now. Are you boyfriends too?"

"Joyce! That's none of your business either."

"Guess you're right. But that's not a 'no'. No, he's too young for you anyway. What is he, about 12 or something?"

"No, he's not. He's just turned 14 actually."

"That much? He doesn't look it."

"Maybe not, but he is. Sometimes I think Wills is more grown-up than I am."

"Wouldn't take a lot."

"Shut up, Joyce Archer!"

They exchanged grins.

Their practice run finished and Joyce's brothers ran over to where Mac was. William came towards Dylan and Joyce.

Joyce picked up the bags next to her and stood up. "Okay, that's it - at last! I thought they were never going to finish. The idiot brothers have gone the wrong way. I'd better take their clothes over to them. Catch you later, Dylan. Be good."

"I'll be good, you be careful. Laters, Joyce."

"I, umm, yeah. Laters, Dylan. Hello William, Goodbye William."

"Hey and goodbye, Joyce."

She walked away and William took her place on the seat, next to Dylan. "What's this then? You chatting up girls while I'm not looking, Dills?"

"As if! Why would I want to do that when I've got a gorgeous boyfriend?"

"Oh have you just? So have I and he's all mine."

"All yours, My Wills. Put your pants on and we'll go home."

"Yeah, we'll go home and take them off again."

"Randy little shit."

"That's me! You wouldn't want me any other way."

"I'd want you any way you were."

"Yeah, you would. I love you too, Dills. So, are we on for the trip to the West Coast?"

"It's all on. Mum says we can have her car, but we have to pay for everything ourselves."

"That's okay. We can afford it, can't we?"

"Sure we can. We'll take a tent and sleep in that. That'll save us heaps."

"A tent? Are you sure? It rains all the time over there, doesn't it?"

"Not all the time, just a lot. They are in a rain-forest. Mum says that they don't get many more wet days than we do, it's just when it rains over there, it really rains."

"Something to look forward to then. What are we going to do if we get caught in a rain-storm?"

"Dunno. Get wet maybe?"

"Shut up, Dills. Come on, let's go home. I'm starving!"

"You're always hungry."

"Yeah, well, I'm growing. I've got a long way to catch up to you."

"No hurry, Wills. You'll get there and I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for you."

"Thanks. And, you'd better! Let's go."

William shrugged into his camouflage jacket, Dylan slung the bag over his shoulder, and they started walking, out of the park, along the Esplanade to the main street and around to the hill up to William's house.

"I'll be glad when you get a car, Dills."

"Yeah, so will I. I'm thinking that a van would be better than a car. There'd be much more room and we could sleep in the back."

"We could, and do other things too."

"Yeah, I thought of that too."

"Of course you did. You call me randy - you're just as bad."

"You complaining?"

"Not likely!"

Their weekend trip started on a bit of a 'downer'. Dylan had their gear already loaded in the car and he brought it to school on Friday afternoon so that they'd be able to get on the road as soon as. It was only about 4 to 5 hours driving to Westpoint through the Lewis Pass, so by getting away straight after school, they planned on getting to there on Friday evening.

They'd find somewhere to sleep, have a bit of a look around on Saturday morning, and then drive down to Brownsville for the night. They'd sleep there, go over the Arthurs Pass to Christchurch and get back home by Sunday night.

So, as soon as school was over, a very excited, and impatient William was standing by the car waiting to go, but there was no sign of Dylan, he'd been delayed somewhere.

A pair of older boys, on bikes, came over, stopped and studied him and the car. William sighed and looked the other way. He could do without attention from the Griffin brothers. Like it or not, he had it.

"What's this?" Dougie Griffin sneered. "Off for a dirty weekend with James are you?"

"Looks like it, " Steven agreed. "He's fucking you, isn't he? Dirty queers."

"Yeah, the filthy bastards. I suppose, if you're into that sort of thing, this one's nearly as pretty as a girl. You're not though, are you? I mean, you have got a dick, haven't you?"

Willam thought of a dozen things he could say to that, but he kept his mouth shut. The goons were both twice as big as him. He wished they'd just go away and leave him alone, but they weren't going to.

Dougie continued, "Someone should do something about this. Cousins fucking, that's got to be illegal."

"Piss off, Griffins. Leave him alone!" Another boy came running over.

"Little Stevie Archer. What's it to you, Jerk? Are you fucking the pretty boy too?"

"No, I'm not. William's my friend and you can leave him alone."

"Like you're going to make us? Get real!"

"Yeah," Steven sneered. "Fuck off and mind your own business, unless you want a hiding too."

"Do you goons ever pick on someone your own size?" Lachan McLaughlin stopped. Virgil Cain was with him too.

"Oh, Gawd! More of them," Dougie said. "What is this, the Kaimoana Queer Club?"

Virgil said, "If there was a club, you'd be in it. It's all you two ever think about. Fuck off and leave the kids alone. Hassle them again and you've got big troubles."

"Oh, no! The Virgin Pansy is threatening us. I'm so scared! Bring it on."

Virgil grinned and said, "Hey, Missy."

"Missy? Is she here?" The Griffins looked around.

"Come on, Steve. Time we weren't here."

"Yeah, we've got better things to do." They got on their bikes and left.

Virgil nodded," Pussies! Lachie, sooner or later, we're going to have to do something about those two."

"It'll be a pleasure," Lachlan agreed. "You okay, William?"

"I'm okay. Thanks for that."

"Not a problem. We can't stand bullies, especially those two. Where's Dylan?"

"Don't know. He should be here, but he's late. Oh, here he comes now."

"Yeah, there he is. You'll be okay now. See you." They walked away.

William said, "Laters, Guys. Thanks again." He turned back to the other boy. "Thanks, Stevie. That was brave, rushing in like that."

"They don't scare me, well, not much anyway. Of course I came over. That's what friends do, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is, but thanks. I'd be glad to be your friend."

"I thought you already were. See you, William. Have a good weekend."

"Oh, I will! Hope you do too. Hey Dills, where've you been?"

"I got held up, sorry. What's been going on here?"

"Let's get going and I'll tell you on the way."

They drove up to William's house to get changed and get something to eat before they hit the road. They had a long way to go. Dylan asked several times what William was doing, but he brushed him off and didn't tell him until after they'd left town.

As it was, they were approaching Oaro when he told him about the Griffin brothers. Dylan turned into the next farm driveway and stopped the car.

"Dills, what are you doing?"

"We're going back."

"Back? What for? Come on, Dills, we're on our way now."

"So we'll go later. I'm going back to see those Griffin bastards."

"No, you're not! Dills, nothing happened and it's over now. Please, just leave it and we'll go and enjoy our weekend."

"Well. . ."

"Please, Dills?"

"Okay then, I'll leave it, but I'm still going to talk to them. I'll see them on Monday and tell the pair of them that if they touch you, they're touching me and I'll take it real, real personal. I'll kill the bastards."

"Dylan! You will not. Sheesh, you tell me to behave myself."

"That's different, Wills, and you know it. We're a couple and what hurts one of us hurts the other one too."

"All right then, but please don't do anything stupid. If you get in trouble, that'll hurt me too."

"I guess. Thanks, Wills. I love you."

"I know you do. I love you lots, My Protector."

"Always."

At Waipara, they turned on to State Highway 7 and headed west.

"Westward ho!"

"Yeah, westward ho the wagons. But I'm glad we've got a car."

"Yeah, cars are good. A wagon would take all week to get there."

"Probably. In the early days, some people walked all the way over there. That would take a week."

"At least. They bred them tough in the old days. How far have we got to go now?"

"Bloody miles. Just keep driving, Dills, we'll get there."

At Culverden, they stopped for a pee and a pie, which they ate as they carried on up the road. After the Hanmer turn-off, the signs of civilisation got more and more sparse as they headed up into the mountains. The sun was low in the sky now, which was a pain as it was directly ahead of them as they headed west.

"Must be a pain living on the West Coast, sometimes."

"How do you work that out?"

"Well, Christchurch is the nearest city, every time they go there for a weekend, they'd have the sun in their eyes all the way home."

"Damm, Wills. You're not just a pretty face, are you? You really think about things. You're a bright kid. Anyway, there's one thing you haven't thought of."

"What's that?"

"Well, there's no sun in your eyes when you're driving west and it's raining."

"There wouldn't be. You're not just a pretty face either, Dills."

"Not as pretty as you though."

"You think? I wish I wasn't. I hate my fucking face sometimes!"

Dylan pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car.

William said, "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something's wrong. You shouldn't say that, Wills."

"That I hate my face? Well I do! Everyone just sees a pretty face and I get hassled by creeps like the Griffins. There's more to me than that."

"Damm right there's more to you! You're bright and funny and really, really smart - well, usually. You're warm and caring and loving and I think that you're the nicest person I've ever known. You're just about the perfect boy, and that's without even thinking about what you look like. I love you, Wills - the real you and not just the face you show to the world, but that's pretty damm good too.

You look good. You look really, really good, but that's not what I love. Usually, I don't even see what you look like. I just see Wills and I love you. Okay?"

"Okay."

William undid his seat-belt and climbed over and sat on top of Dylan, face to face.

"There is one perfect boy in this car and it's not me. Thanks Dills. I love you very, very much." He kissed him.

He pulled back and grinned widely. "Let's fuck."

"No, Wills. Not now. We've still got a long way to go and I don't want to be too late arriving somewhere where we've never been before. Anyway, we don't fuck. That's just crude. What we do is making love."

"Yeah, it is." He kissed him again, and then got back into his own seat.

"Okay, My Dills. Let's get going then. The sooner we get there, the sooner we get down to making love again."

"Sounds good."

"Oh, yah!"

He started the car and headed west again. They hadn't gone very far before the sun disappeared behind a big, black, bank of clouds over the mountains.

"Oh, oh. Looks like we spoke too soon about the sun."

"Yeah, it's raining up there. Dammit."

"Double dammit. I hope we're not in for a wet weekend."

"So do I, but I don't like our chances. What are we going to do, Dills? Maybe we should turn back and try again another time."

"No, to hell with that. We're going to Westpoint. A bit of rain won't kill us. We've got the car and we've got a tent. We can always put it up and stay in the one place for two nights."

"I suppose so. We can always go to the movies. We might see Indie again."

"Yeah, maybe. Did you bring a coat?"

"No. Did you?"

"Of course I didn't."

"Of course. Oh well, we can always buy some raincoats."

"You think? We're not rich, you know."

"Yes we are, we just haven't got much money."

"Shut up, Wills."

They drove into the rain. It didn't start gradually, it was more like driving into a curtain of water. It got dark all of a sudden and the windscreen wipers were struggling to cope with the deluge.

"Damm!"

"Yeah. Just as well we're not walking."

"Just as well. A motel is starting to look good."

"A motel is starting to look very good!"

They lost the radio reception as they headed up the mountain valleys, so William put a CD on.

"Oh no. Do we have to listen to this old stuff?"

"Yes we do. This is show tunes. We have to learn some of this stuff."

"I wish we didn't. Why can't they have decent music in the show?"

"Because it's a show. It's not that bad. It's just different to what you're used to. Enjoy, Dills."

"Yeah, right!"

They drove along in silence, listening to the CD.

William suddenly said, "Whoah!"

"Why whoah?"

"That sign we just went past, that was the summit of the Lewis Pass, the highest point on the road, so we're over the top now."

"Cool. Are we halfway there then?"

"No, we're way past halfway, but it's all downhill from now on."

"Maybe we should turn the engine off and save on the petrol?"

"Shut up. Dills. It's not that steep. It's only more or less all downhill"

"Oh. You should've said that then."

"I'm not even going to answer that."

They definitely were going downhill now and the road wound and twisted down the mountain pass. There was a high hill on one side of them, possibly a mountain, and on the other side, there was a huge drop down into a valley. It was swirled with mist and rain so they couldn’t see the bottom of it, but they were looking down at the tops of big trees.

The trees, as William pointed out, were still mainly the mountain beeches, but they were growing more densely together and there was a heavy undergrowth, mostly ferns. It was like they were in a different country already.

“Beech trees have got a special trick to stop snow settling on them. Their leaves are small and round and attached with very thin stems so that they shiver in the slightest breeze and shake the snow off. This road’s often closed by snow in the wintertime.”

“That right? Y’know, Wills, if I keep hanging around with you, I’m going to get well educated.”

“You are going to get educated!”

“Yeah, but it might take a few years.”

“That’s okay, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“We have!”

Around a sweeping downhill corner, they suddenly came to a big well-lit building, next to the road in the middle of nowhere. The sign identified it as “Maruia Springs Thermal Resort.” It was all on its own and they passed it and were back among the trees.

“What was that place?”

“Maruia Springs – natural hot pools and a big pub. It’s like Hanmer Springs, but on a smaller scale.”

“Hanmer must be big then.”

“Yeah, kind of. It is a town.”

“There must be a lot of hot springs around.”

“Probably. They’re not everywhere, but there are a few. Most people don’t know about them.”

“But you do, of course.”

“Of course! They’re marked on maps. I like reading maps.”

“Of course you do.”

“Shut up, Dills.”

The Kaimoana Operatic Society

(Wasn't sure what to call this one. Just a one-off).

"Well, Paul, I'm afraid I've got some news for you."

"Oh? It must be bad news if you're afraid?"

"Yes, it is. Good news for me, but bad for you. I hope so anyway."

"Now you've got me worried. What is bad news for me, Julie?"

"Well, it's this."

Ms. Stewart pushed a folded sheet of paper across Paul's desk. He picked it up, opened and scanned it.

"Oh. You're resigning. You're right, it is bad news. Can I ask why, Julie?"

"We're moving. My partner, Steve, has landed a promotion at last. He's going to be Assistant Manager of the Bank of New Zealand, High Street branch in Christchurch.

We are going to miss Kaimoana, but this is too good to miss. It's a big step up for him and could open all sorts of doors."

"That is good news, for you, but you're going to be missed here. You'll be a hard act to follow."

"Thanks, Paul. I'm sure you'll find someone, but we've got to go soon. I won't even be able to see the term out."

"We'll cope, somehow. Judith Morrison said that she'll come in to relieve whenever we need her."

"That's good, but there is your problem."

"Problem?"

"Yes. Mrs. Morrison will do relief teaching, but she's not prepared to do extra-curricular activities - says she's too old and she's not interested."

"Ah. So what extras will we have to cover?"

"There's the girls' netball team. That won't be a problem. Karen has been taking the juniors, she's happy to pick-up the senior team as well. No, your problem is the choir. I don't know who could take them on."

"The choir?"

"The kids' choir. We've made a commitment to supply a group of 12 kids for Mrs. Braidwood's Operatic Society. They're doing a musical comedy about the story of Kaimoana. They want all ages involved and a singing group of the little ones is always a big hit."

"And it's normal for the school to be involved?"

"Yes, we usually are. It's a tradition around here. It's a good experience for the kids and it’s good for the school to be involved in a community project. We have a choir, but they need a teacher to supervise and coach them."

"I see. Well, no problem, Julie, I'll do it myself."

"You will? Do you have any experience, Paul?"

"Yes, of course I have. I've taught kids' music for years, plus I used to be a member of the Kelburn Community Players. I wasn't always an old fuddy-duddy you know."

"I'm sure you weren't. No, forget I said that. You know what I mean."

"I hope I do," Paul laughed. "Don't worry, Julie. I'm sure we'll do fine. I'll look after your choir and it'll be good for me as well."

"It will. Everyone likes to see authority figures being normal people. Olive Braidwood is also the town librarian. If you like, we could go around there and see her in the lunch hour. I'll introduce you and tell her the good news.

She'll be delighted to have you on board. She's been getting a bit stressed."

"Okay. We'll do that then."

"Fine. I'll see you here at lunchtime. One thing though, just a word of warning. Olive can be a bit pushy. Don't let her overload you. They've got the kids and plenty of older people involved, but they're short of males willing to appear in the show."

"Thanks, but I can handle Mrs. Braidwood. I can be pushy too, if I have to."

So they went to the library and Paul met Olive Braidwood. She was sorry to hear that Julie was leaving, but delighted to get Paul for the show.

"It's so good to have another man with us. We really are short of males. If we have to, we'll dress some of the girls up in men's clothing, but it wouldn't be the same. It's going to be a great show this year. We've got an amazing pianist, a new boy in town, Gary Stafford, do you know him?"

"No. I don't think I've met him."

"Wait 'til you do. He'll blow your socks off! He really is that good."

"Okay. I'll look forward to meeting him.

She was right, the boy was good. Paul had been involved in amateur musicals for years and he'd never heard better. He played all styles of music and was easily good enough to be a professional. He was a nice kid too, not at all up himself. Paul liked him a lot.

He soon found that he was getting very involved in the show. It was a good thing to do and he was enjoying himself, but he had much more on his plate than just the choir. Olive Braidwood and her partner-in-crime, Patsy Tanner, were a pair of bulldozers. They were both dynamos and they weren't shy about delegating and finding more and more for willing hands to do.

It seemed that he'd lost his customary day of rest, on Sundays, for the forseeable future. The fishing was going to have to wait a while.

After a busy but enjoyable weekend, which he'd spent most of in the Memorial Hall, Paul was relaxing on Sunday evening when William finally came home. He'd been with Dylan all weekend, which Paul didn't mind at all. Dylan was a good boy and he was good for Wills.

But, he did worry that they spent all of their time together to the exclusion of everyone else. He hated to think what either one of them would do if they were to lose the other. They'd be totally lost! William had only made one other friend since coming to live here, and he'd lost him. Poor little bugger.

"Wills, come and sit here for a minute. I want to talk to you."

"Oh? About what?"

"Nothing bad. I've been thinking."

"And that's good?"

"Sure it is. About you and Dylan. You two spend all of your time together."

"Yeah, we do. Dad, don't even think about telling me to stop seeing Dylan. That is NOT going to happen. Dills is my best friend and he's the best friend I've ever had."

"He is. Don't worry, Wills, I wouldn't try to stop you seeing Dylan. I wouldn't do that."

"You couldn't anyway."

"Don't push it, Son."

"What's your problem then, Dad?"

"It's not a problem. I wouldn't want to see it become one, that's all. The fact of the matter is, Dylan is a couple of years older than you and you've made no other friends around here at all.'

"Dills is always saying the same thing and I tell him that it doesn't matter. I don't need any other friends."

"Dylan's a good kid. You should listen to him. The time will come when you need friends. In another year or so, Dylan will be away at university and you'll still be at school here. What are you going to do then?"

"I don't want to think about that. He'll be back for weekends and holidays anyway."

"I'm sure he will, but you do need to think about it. What are you going to do for 2 or 3 years when he's not here? You need some other friends, Wills. I'm not saying instead of Dylan, I'm saying as well as."

"Okay, maybe you're right, but now Damian's gone, there's no-one my age who interests me. They're all just kids."

"Give them a chance, Wills. They might suprise you."

"Yeah? Maybe. Damian's the only one who ever approached me."

"And you were glad of it, weren't you? If the mountain won't come to Mahomet, then Mahomet must go to the mountain. Wills, I'd like to see you more involved with the people in the town."

"How can I when they don't want to know me?"

"Get involved. I've joined the Operatic Society and it's a lot of fun. They are desperate for more boys to join them. They're doing a show, it's going to be good, but they are top-heavy in females. Why don't you come and join us? You're a born performer. I think you'd love it."

"Hmm. Well, all right, I will but only if Dills comes too."

"That'd be good. Dylan would be welcome too, but tell him to leave his guitar at home. I don't think they're ready for that."

"Who is? Yeah, it'd be good if Dills tried something new. His music is bloody awful."

"You'll get no arguments from me there. So you'll come?"

"I will if Dills does. I'll go and ring him and see what he says."

"Good boy, Wills. Thanks."

"Thanks, Dad. Thanks for worrying about me."

"That's my job. It always has been and always will be."

Dylan was reluctant, it was SO not his scene, but after Paul spoke to him, he agreed to come for Will's sake.

Mrs. Braidwood was delighted to see them walk into the hall on Monday afternoon and she welcomed them with open arms.

"Dylan! Have you come to join us? Great! And this must be your cousin, Paul's boy? Welcome, William. Welcome to the both of you. We knew it was going to be a good year, but we didn't think we'd have a movie star with us."

"Hey, Mrs. Braidwood. Thanks, but I'm not a movie star, I've just done some acting. It was different to this, but I'd like to give your show a go."

"You're very welcome and I'm sure you'll do fine. Maybe you could teach the rest of us about acting."

"I doubt it. It was a long time ago and I was just a kid."

"And now you're so old? Sorry, William, but to me you are a boy. Hell, so is my son and he's a father already. Do either of you play any instruments?"

Dylan's eyes lit up. "Well . . " he began, but William leapt in and cut him off.

"No we don't! Dills has got a guitar but you seriously don't want to know."

"Spoilsport."

"Hush, Dills. It's not that sort of music."

"I guess you're right."

"It's not?" said Mrs. Braidwood. "It's always good to try something new. Now, it's great to have you with us, but we're still short of males. If you could bring your friends along, that would be good. We have got a few though. Do you know Lachlan and Gary?"

William shook his head, but Dylan nodded. "Lachlan McLaughlin? Yeah, I know him. Is Gary that kid who hangs around with him?"

"I suppose that he must be. He's Gary Stafford and he's an amazing pianist - a very, very good musician. You'll meet them, they'll be here soon.

I've got to go. Have a seat, Boys, and I'll be with you shortly. Have a look at those scripts there. They're just rough copies and subject to change. Dr. Stevens wrote our show, but it's a work in progress. We have to adapt to suit the talent we've got."

She hurried away and left them sitting at the side.

"Talent?" Dylan sighed. "Maybe you've got talent, Wills, but I don't know what I can do. Stand and fill up the background, I suppose."

"You're better than that, Dills. We could do a love scene, a boy-boy clinch up on the stage. That'd wow them."

"That'd bloody shock them! I don't think Kaimoana's ready for that. Won't be happening."

"Yeah? Maybe you're right. Here's Dad coming."

Paul came into the hall, looking like a mother duck with his troupe of little ones. He smiled and nodded to the boys, but kept going to the back. They went up on to the stage to practice a dance routine.

Lachlan and Gary came in and came over to say "Hey". Lachlan and Dylan introduced their friends.

"Wow, William Scott! Didn't know we'd have a star in the show."

"Shut it, Gary. I'm not a star, I've just done a bit of acting."

"That's more than any of us have. Well, except for Lachie, he's been here before."

"You have, Lachlan?"

"I've been in a show before, years ago, when I was a kid. We did Robin Hood, Men in Tights. At least we won't have to wear panty hose this time."

"Let's hope not!"

"Ah, yeah. Watch it, here's the Can Can girls."

A group of 4 highschool girls came over to say hello. They were all wearing full, calf-length skirts on top of their street clothes.

"Hey, Girls," Dylan greeted them. "Is that your costumes? You look ridiculous."

"Shut up, James," Sally Griffin grinned. "These are just our practice skirts. Our real costumes are going to be sensational. We'll look like a pack of Parisian hookers."
"Oh. Just the usual then."

"Shut up, James! Anyway, don't laugh too soon. The story line has a bunch of whaling men trying to do the Can Can before the girls show up."

Gary said, "Don't look at me. I just play the piano."

"And you do it so well! No, you'll be safe from that. You all will. They want a bunch of fat and ugly old men. They'll probably use the old-age pensioners, the older the better."

"Yeah, you're safe," Fern said. "You're all far too good-looking, even Lachlan. Damm, Lachlan! You're looking good you know. Whatever you're doing, keep on doing it."

"Well, umm, yeah, thanks, I think." Lachlan blushed.

"Fern!" Sally laughed. "I thought you had your eye on Ashton Woods?"

"I'm just saying. Anyway, Ashton's off the scene these days. He's spending all his time with Peter de Groot. Speaking of which, have you seen Peter's cousins? Whoah!"

"Yeah, whoah. They're pretty cute all right. I think they're all snobs though."

"When they look that good, they can afford to be."

"All right, Girls." Mrs. Braidwood came back. "Paul's using the stage with his kids. We'll go and use the lunch room to practice. The Kapa Haka group can have the entrance lobby. Gary, we've got a keyboard set up, would you come and do the music for us? Lachlan, you could go and help Mr. Jackson. He and his crew are painting flats behind the stage."

"What can we do?" William asked.

"You two just wait there. Patsy Tanner will be with you in a minute. She needs you both to sing so that we can decide where to use you.

Sally, where is Joyce?"

"I don't know. She should be here by now. She's probably scrapping with Mac somewhere. They usually are."

They all went, leaving William and Dylan sitting alone again.

"Singing!" Dylan said. "I didn't know there was going to be singing involved."

"Of course there is, Dills. It's a musical. Don't worry, they'll just put us in a chorus if we're no good."

"Oh, I'm good enough, but I don't like this sort of crappy music."

"We know what sort of crappy music you like."

"Shut it, Wills. It's not crappy, it's good music, not like this stuff."

"If this is not like your music, then that's good."

"Watch it, Wills."

"Dylan James, I'll have you know, this is not crap music we're doing here." Mrs. Tanner had walked up to them unseen. "We're doing show tunes - some of the best songs from the best shows ever written."

"Yeah, yeah. Couldn't we, at least, do a couple of hip-hop tunes, Patsy? It doesn't all have to be old stuff, does it?"

"You'd have to talk to Dr. Stevens about that, but I don't like your chances. It's a show, Dylan. We do show tunes. Come on over to the piano and we'll see what you can do."

They went over to the piano which was down on the floor in front of the stage. Patsy sat down and William and Dylan stood next to her.

"Now, Boys. What have we got here?"

She shuffled through a pile of pages of sheet music. "Aha! Maybe William could try this," she said with a grin.

William looked at the sheet she'd selected and shook his head. "I Feel Pretty? I don't think so. That's a girl's song, Mrs. Tanner. I'm not singing that, I'd look stupid."

"Dead right!" Dylan agreed emphatically. "We're here to have fun, not to make complete dorks of ourselves in public."

"Okay, okay. I was only joking. How about this, from the Phantom of the Opera - The Music of the Night?"

"Well, I'll try. I'm not a great singer you know."

"Just do your best, William. It's only a trial to see how you go."

She played and William stood behind her where he could follow the words. He sang okay, nothing startling, his voice was just average. While he was waiting, Dylan looked through the sheet music that she'd left on top of the piano. The song finished and the boys grinned at each other.

"Okay, William," Patsy nodded. "You're not too bad, I've heard a lot worse. Front row of the chorus for you, I think."

"Thanks, Mrs. Tanner. That'd suit me, I couldn't see over the heads from the back."

"You wouldn't. You wouldn't be seen front the front either, and I think that's important."

"Important?"

"Yes. You're a fine-looking boy. If you've got it, flaunt it I always say. Now, Dylan, do you want to try the same song?"

"No thanks. Could we try this?" He handed her a page. "I know the words to that one."

"Really?" she queried. "The Impossible Dream from The Man of La Mancha? Dylan, this is probably the most difficult song we've got here."

"If I've got to sing, I'd like to try that one. I know it, our grandmother used to sing it."

"Yeah, she did," William said. "She sang it to me too. She wasn't very good."

"I'm not suprised," Patsy said. "This is a difficult song. Lots of great singers have tried it and failed. Have you heard Elvis' version? He made a mess of it in my humble opinion. Think you can do better than Elvis, do you, Dylan?"

"No, I don't. I think this was a bad idea. There must be something I could do without getting up on the stage. I could sell tickets or something."

"Any dork could do that!" William protested. "Come on, Dills. Don't be chicken. You wouldn't have to be much to be better than me and I want to hear you sing something different."

"Well."

"Please, Dills?"

"Okay, just for you."

"Great! That's my Boy!" William beamed.

Patsy looked from one grinning face to the other and she thought, 'Hmmm.' She wouldn't blame them either. They were a pair of nice-looking kids and obviously very close.

"All right then. Let's try it, shall we?"

Patsy played and Dylan sang. The kids up on the stage were taking a break and they sat/stood and watched and listened. Paul, in his 'director's chair', sat up and took notice. He knew this song well. The Impossible Dream was an impossible song for amateurs. When he was with the Kelburn Community Players, years ago, they used it in one of their shows. They made a right hash of it.

Dylan was doing quite well actually, he suprised him. He'd heard the music that he usually murdered. Patsy's playing was quite pedestrian. She was nowhere near the standard of the boy playing out in the supper room, but she was doing okay.

The song built to the finish, Dylan was getting a bit breathless and he missed the climatic note entirely. He fell flat, and he knew it. He looked at Wills and made a wry grin.

"Sorry," he said. "I stuffed that up, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did." William grinned. "Better than I could do though."

Patsy said, "It wasn't that bad, Dylan. Okay, you missed the high note. That's nothing to be ashamed of, most people do, it's bloody difficult. Elvis missed it too.

But, you're not too bad you know. Given a simpler song, you'll do fine. We can use you in the chorus, you're tall enough to see over the heads from the back. I'll talk to Olive and Dr. Stevens, I think you're good enough, with a bit of practice and training, for a solo or two. Definitely good enough for a duet. Do you know Summer Nights from Grease?"

"I've heard it. I wouldn't say that I know it."

"That'll be your homework then. Learn Summer Nights. I think that's your song."

"Okay, I will. Thanks, Patsy."

"Thank you, Boys. I'm not sure what you're going to do now. Go and watch the Can Can girls and Mrs. Braidwood will find you a job to get rid of you."

On the stage, Paul nodded to himself. He agreed with Patsy's verdict. Neither Wills nor Dills was ever going to be a star, but they were good enough for an amateur production, especially Dills. That was a difficult song he'd attempted and while he didn't shine, he was not too bad. Still, he couldn't help feeling disappointed. He was hoping that his nephew was going to show a hidden talent - he didn't.

Then he heard it. Real talent and really hidden. A voice was coming from behind the curtain at the back of the stage. Someone back there was singing The Impossible Dream, and he was good. He was very, very good.

Paul sat spellbound and listened to the amazing voice of the unseen singer. The song built and built and he easily soared through the crashing climax. Paul had, unconsciously, risen to his feet and he stood there, amazed, stunned and very, very impressed.

"Bloody Hell!" he whispered. "Who is that?"

He lifted the curtain and looked backstage. It was disappointing that Dylan didn't prove to be an unlikely star, but here was one even more unlikely and he was a real star - an incredible singer!

A tall, well-built boy, blond hair, blue eyes and a wide smile, was standing on a step-ladder with his arms flung out wide and looking down at the gobsmacked boy looking up at him. He had bare feet and was clad in paint-splattered blue overalls. They didn't see Paul looking back at them.

"And that's how it's done," the boy on the ladder said. "It was in the version I heard anyway. Jim Nabors, I think."

"Fuck me!" the other boy said. "I didn't know you could sing like that. I didn't know anyone could sing like that. That was awesome!"

"Hey! I'm not just a pretty face. I've got talents."

"You have!" They both looked around at Paul when he spoke. "You've got real talent. I've never heard better. What the hell are you doing back here?"

"Doing?" the blond boy shrugged. "Nothing much. We're meant to be helping Mr. Jackson, painting flats, but he's gone and disappeared on us. We think he's probably smoking a joint somewhere."

"A joint?"

"Yeah," the dark-haired boy said. "Drugs - marijuana, you know. Mr. J's a bit of an old hippy."

"Oh, okay as long as you two are not doing it with him."

"Not bloody likely! We don't do that shit. We've seen where it gets you."

"I'm pleased to hear it. That's a dead-end street. Your parents have taught you well."

"Oh, you've got no idea!"

"Anyway, I didn't mean what are you doing back here right now. I meant, why aren't you out the front and center-stage? With a voice like that, you should be starring in the show, not painting backdrops."

"It's gotta be done and someone's got to do it," the blond boy said. "That’s what we've signed up for. Our job is scenery, props and costumes."

"You're going to waste. I'm Paul Scott, I'm here with the kids' choir. And your names are?"

The dark-haired boy replied. "Joel and Virgil. I'm Virgil Cain, that's Virgil not virgin, and this is my mate, Joel Stafford."

"Joel Stafford? Are you related to Gary, our pianist?"

"Yeah, I am," Joel grinned. "He's my cousin. Music must run in the family."

"It really must! Gary is very good, but you are - well, incredible actually. Has Mrs. Braidwood heard you sing?"

"No. No-one asked us. Our job is back here."

"It should not be. We haven't got that much talent that we can afford to waste it, and you are definitely going to waste. Do you sing, Virgil?"

"I sing like a dog. But Joel, you've got to get out there. You don't belong backstage. He's right, you're being wasted."

"You think?"

"I do. Why haven't you sung for me before?"

"Well, I was busy."

"Oh yah! But you've blown your cover now. You've got to do it, Joel. You have to!"

"Well . . if they want me, I will."

"They're friggin' mad if they don't."

"They certainly are," Paul said. "Come with me, Boys. We'll go and see the Boss."

"I thought I was the Boss."

"Shut up, Virgil. You're not. Come on, we'll go with the Man."

"The Man? The Boss? What am I?"

"You don't want to know."

"Watch it, Joel Stafford. You're still on trial you know. Come and be the Singer."

Paul led the way, across the stage and down to the floor of the hall. He stopped at the piano and picked up the sheet music, and then they went through to the supper room at the side.

The girls were still practicing their routine, coached by Mrs. Braidwood and Gary was playing a keyboard. William and Dylan had gone, Mrs. Braidwood had found a job for them. Gary grinned a welcome and finished the tune.

"Hey, Joel. Hey, Virgil. You guys want something?"

"No they don't, but we do," Paul replied. "Olive, you've got to hear this. Girls, take a break, and Gary, would you play this for us please?" He handed Gary the music.

He took the page and looked at it. "The Impossible Dream? Big song. Yeah, I think I can play it. It's not an easy tune."

Paul said, "Hard for some people, maybe. Are you ready, Joel? Let's do it. Blow their socks off, Boy!"

"Joel is going to sing this?" said Gary. "That'll be interesting. Okay, let's see if you can blow the socks off."

He could and he did. By the time they reached the end of the song, even Gary had stopped playing and he stood, like everyone else, in open-mouthed shock. Joel grinned at the stunned faces around the room. No-one was saying a word, so he took a bow.

Virgil was the first to recover. "Wow! That's my Boy. Awesome, Joel. Frigging Awesome!"

"He certainly is," Paul beamed proudly. He felt a proprietal interest in his discovery. "Olive, you've gone very quiet. What do you think?"

"I'm in shock. Very nice. Thank you, Joel. I'm sorry we can't use you in the show."

"What?"" Gary squawked. "Not use him? But you have to! Joel, you're incredible. Mrs. Braidwood, please say that you're joking."

"Yes, of course I'm joking. We can't not use you in our show. Joel, you're unbelievable. First Gary and now you. I don't think I can take any more shocks like that."

"So, he's in then?" Paul was a little confused.

"Of course he's in, Paul, as long as he's willing. With Gary on piano and Joel singing, we don't need anyone else and we'd still have the best value for money show that this town's ever seen. Are you in, Joel?"

"Yeah, I'm in," Joel grinned. "I'm getting sick of painting flats anyway."

"Great! I'll paint the flats, if I have to. You're too good to lose. Girls, thank you. You can go home now, we've finished for today. You boys stay where you are, I'll be back. I'll ring Dr. Stevens and tell him to get down here right now!"