(Last one. Seriously, what do you think People? I'm trying to keep these stories brief, but is this too easy?)
He'd only been there for a minute when a shadow fell on him. He looked up, squinting at the sunshine, and Jordan was looking down at him, (which made a change).
“Jordan?”
“Hi. Can I sit here with you?”
“Well, yeah,” he looked around. “But where are your bodyguards? They might not like it.”
“Maybe not, but I would and they can get lost for now.”
“For now?”
“Yeah.” He sat down next to him.
Dillon moved forward and down a step so they were nearer being on the same level. “I don't think your friends would approve. They don't like me.”
“But I do, I think. Why wouldn't you stop and talk to me this morning. Are you off me already?”
“No, I'm not off you. I quite like you really, but your friends don't like me. I didn't want to start the day with them all jumping on me again, so I thought it's best if I just stay away.”
“You did, did you? What about me? Aren't I allowed to chose who I want to be friends with?”
“It doesn't look like you are, the way they bunch around you and keep everyone else away all the time.”
“They do get a bit possessive, don't they?” Jordan shrugged like it didn't matter. But it did!
“Just a bit!” Dillon snorted. “They make me feel like a criminal and just because I wanted to talk to you.”
“Yeah well, they're good mates and they've got their reasons.”
“Yeah? So do you think I'd want to hurt you?”
“I don't. I hope not anyway. They don't know you, so they're suspicious; they're suspicious of everyone.”
“There's no need for that. I mean, you're little but you're not defenceless, are you. Sheesh, anyone would think I was trying to rape you!” Dillon was talking himself angry again.
Jordan looked down at the ground in front of them. “That's been tried before,” he said quietly. “The Five try to make sure it doesn't happen again.”
“Shit, Jordan! Are you saying that you were raped?”
“No, I'm not. I wasn't raped, but I nearly was. A guy had me bailed-up in the changing rooms at the Aquatic Center, Gene and Ashton came in and saved me. That's why they're all like they are now.It's nothing to do with you, they're like that with everyone and they're looking after me.”
“Because you're such a baby you need looking after all the time? Why would they think that everyone wants to rape you?”
“Maybe because I look easy because I'm little. And, there is this.” Jordan held up his left hand and twisted it around, showing the coloured jelly-bracelets on his wrist.
“What, because you wear bracelets? Lots of kids do. I've got a couple myself – doesn't mean anyone wants to rape me.”
“Keep looking, Dillon. Look at the colours, know what they mean?”
“Kind of. I know that each colour is meant to have a meaning, for those that take them seriously. I don't, it's nothing but a scare story to freak parents out.Yellow is for hugging, blue is oral sex and black means all the way sex – that sort of thing.”
“It is that sort of thing. But look at my colours, I've got six of them – red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple. Doesn't that tell you anything?”
“Not really. Should it?”
“Yes, it should. They're the colours of the rainbow flag. You know what that stands for?”
“Rainbow flag – that's like a gay signal, isn't it?”
“Now you're getting the picture.”
“Damm, Jordan! Are you saying that you're gay?”
“I am. Have you got a problem with that?”
“No, of course I haven't. But why would you wear a signal like that?”
“Pays to advertise,” Jordan grinned. “I think it's subtle, the other don't agree and they want me to stop wearing them, but I'm not. It's my life and I'm proud of who I am.”
“So you should be. So they don't like that you're gay?”
“They don't care about that, they just don't want me advertising it. If I don't, how am I ever going to get a boyfriend?”
“And that's what you're looking for?”
“Yes. Everyone wants someone to love them, don't they?”
“I guess so. I do too. But your Tight Five love you, don't they?”
“Sure they do, but not like that. The guys are more like family.”
“Family? Good luck finding a boyfriend with them in the way.”
“They won't be in the way when it's the right person.”
“And that, obviously, won't be me.” Dillon stood up. “Your friends don't like me, Jordan. It's a wonder they haven't come and taken you away already.”
Jordan said, “I could tell them not to. They don't not like you, they just don't know you.”
“They don't know me and they're never going to, not with the attitudes they've got when they look at me.”
“Forget about them. Do you like me, Dillon? That's what's important. I think I like you a lot and I want to find out more.”
“Really? Sorry but that won't happen. I do like you, I think I could love you, but we're never going to know. You can't forget about your mates, Jordan. They're good friends for you and they have been for a long time. You're lucky to have them, what you've got there is special and you can't throw that away. There's only one of me but there's four of them and they're an important part of your life.
You can't dump them for a possible relationship with me. That's not going to happen, full stop.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I am very sure about that. I'm not worth it.”
“Well I think you are. What if I tell them that I want you for a boyfriend?”
“It wouldn't make any difference. They don't like me and they wouldn't agree.”
“They'd have to agree! It's none of their business anyway.”
“It is very much their business. Okay, if and when, every one of your Tight Five comes and tells me that's it's okay for us to be together, then we can. Otherwise it's not happening. I'm not going to fight your friends, Jordan. They love you and there's nothing wrong with that.”
“There is if it stops me from being with the one I want. You won't change your mind?”
“I can't, Jordan. I can't and I won't.”
“Okay, I'll go and tell them then. If they say it's okay, then we can?”
“If you want to, yeah. But only if all four of them say it's all right.”
“I'll see you soon. I've got work to do!” Jordan left running.
Dillon smiled ruefully as he watched him go. Yes, he'd like to love him, but he didn't think that could happen. Life wasn't that good.
The Cat came first. She came running up behind him when he was walking home from school.
“Kirkwood – Dillon, wait up! Damm. Where are you going in such a big hurry?”
“Going home,” he shrugged. “What's it to you?”
“I want to talk.”
“Why? I've done nothing.”
“No-one said you had. Jordie told me to come and see you.”
“Well, here I am.”
“Yeah. Jordie says he likes you. Is that right?”
“Shouldn't you be asking him?”
“Well, ah – yes, I guess.” She smiled and things looked better. “How about you? Do you like our Jordan?”
“I do. I think I like him a lot.”
“Jordie is gay. Are you?”
“Probably.”
“Probably? I think you'd know.”
“I've never had a cance to find out, have I?”
“So you want a chance with Jordan?”
“That sounds crude when you put it like that.”
“Well, do you?”
“No, I don't!”
“What do you want then?”
“I want to be his friend. I want to get to know him and to love him, most likely.”
“To most likely love him. That's not much of a commitment.”
“It's all I've got. Look, Cat, I don't really know the boy. I'd never even spoken to him until we sat up in a tree together at the Sports the other day. I like the look of him and I'd like to get to know him better. I'd like that very much, but I can't.”
“You can't? What's stopping you?”
“You are. You and all the rest of your mates, you won't let anyone get near him.”
“You want to get near him? Why don't you then?”
“Because I can't. I told you, you lot are in the way.”
“Why won't you fight for what you want? You can't want it much if you won't fight for it.”
“I'm not fighting you and the others. You're his friends, good friends, and I'm not fighting against you. If you weren't his mates, I'd fight you all the way, but you are and you all protect him because you love him. That's a good thing and I'm not taking that away from him.”
“Wow. Are you for real?”
“Of course I'm for bloody real. You think I'm standing here lying to you?”
“No. I don't think you are actually. Okay, Dillon Kirkwood, that's good enough for me. For what it's worth, you have my full permission to be with Jordie. I'm warning you though – I love that boy like a brother. More than a brother actually, I can't stand my real brothers. If you ever hurt Jordie, I'll cut your cock off and ram it down your throat!”
“I think you would. If I ever hurt him, I'll let you do that.”
“All right!” she grinned. “You're a good one. Be nice to our boy and we'll be sweet.” She started walking away.
“Cat!” Dillon called after her. “Thanks, Cat. I will be nice, if I get the chance.”
“You'll get a chance. I'm going to see the others to fix it now. 'Bye, Dillon.”
“Bye, Cat.”
He walked home with a big smile on his face. Not a lot had changed, it was only one of the four of them, but it was a start.
Later, he was on the computer in his room, busily wasting time, when there was a knock on the door.
“Yeah?” he called and carried on doing what he was doing. Another knock and he got up and opened the door.
Ashton Morris was there, with Gene Crestani behind him.
“Whoah. Hi.”
“Hey, Dillon. Can we come in?”
“Yeah, of course.” He stepped back and out of the way. “Come in.”
They came into the room and Gene closed the door. Dillon sat back on his computer chair.
“Doesn't look like a gayboy's bedroom.” Ashton looked around.
“I wouldn't know. I don't get around that much,” Dillon replied.
“Yeah. So we hear,” Ashton nodded. “I like your posters. Do you play anything?”
“Only CD's. Look, Guys, you're here about Jordan, so what do you say?”
“To the point, aren't you? All right then, we say 'yes'.”
“Really? You're okay with me being with him?”
“Yes, it's okay. We were wrong about you, I think. As long as you're both in it together, it's okay by us.”
“That goes for both of you? Gene's not saying much.”
“He never does,” Ashton said. “Not until he gets comfortable. He gets a bit whakama, don't you, Genie?”
Gene grinned and nodded.
“Whakama?” Dillon said. “What's that?”
“What's the matter, don't you understand plain Maori?”
“Not a lot, no.”
“It means shy, embarrassed, that sort of thing. I thought everyone knew that. Anyway, that's what our Genie is, so now you know.”
“Now I know. You're okay with me and Jordan, Gene?”
“Yeah, 'sokay,” Gene blushed.
Ashton said, “The usual warnings apply, of course. You hurt our mate and you're dead.”
“I wouldn't hurt him.”
“We'll be watching.”
“I'm sure you will. So, that's three out of the four of you. What does Lucas say, do you know?”
“Yes, we know, but I dunno if you'd want to.”
“Oh? What did he say?”
“He said that you can go fuck yourself and you'll be with Jordie over his dead body.”
“Oh.” Dillon lost the grin. “I guess he's entitled to his opinion. That's the end of that then.”
“That's it?” Gene spoke up at last. “You're giving up just like that?”
“Yeah, just like that. I told Jordan that all four of you had to agree and I meant what I said.”
“Shit!” cried Ashton. “Don't be such a wimp. Go around and poke him on the nose.”
“I'm not doing that. It wouldn't fix anything anyway. That'd just make him not like me even more.”
“You might be right. You probably won't have to worry anyway – the Cat's going to talk to him. He's in trouble now!”
“In trouble?”
“Yeah,” Gene grinned. “The Cat is no pussy-cat.”
“So true!” Ashton agreed. “More like a tiger – a bitchy tiger. Don't ever fight with the Cat, you can't win.”
“I'll take your word for it.”
“Wise man. Okay, we've said what we came to say. C'mon, Gene, we're outta here.”
“Okay. Thanks anyway, Guys.”
“Welcome. See ya.”
That was hopeful, wasn't it? He didn't hear anything more all night and he tried not to worry but, of course, he did. Trust Lucas Breene to mess things up for him. Three out of the Tight Five said that it was okay but not Breene. Stuff him!
What had he ever done to him? Nothing, that's what!
Three out of the four is like 75% approval, which is pretty good really. Maybe he could just forget about Breene and go for it anyway? No, he couldn't. He'd said that every single one of them had to say yes and that hadn't happened. He wouldn't go back on his word. That'd mean that the whole thing was based on a lie and that's not good.
Fuck Lucas Breene! He punched his pillow, but that didn't help. Maybe the Cat would eat him – that'd fix it, sort of.
Walking into the school grounds next day, he looked around. There was no sign of Jordan anywhere and the only one of the Tight Five in sight was – 'Wouldn't you know it?' - Lucas Breene and he was making a bee-line for him.
'Oh well', Dillon sighed. 'Let's get it over and done with then.'
“Kirkwood, I want to talk to you.”
“Talk away, I'm listening.”
“Right. What the hell did you do to the Cat?”
“The Cat? I haven't done anything to her?”
“Yes you have. I dunno what, but you did something.”
“Not that I know of.”
“Yeah, right. The Cat came round to my place last night and she ripped into me like you wouldn't believe.”
“That wasn't my idea. She told me she was going to see you, but I didn't know she'd do that.”
“Well she did, thanks to you.”
“I never asked her to.”
“But she did.”
“I never asked her to. Look, Lucas, it's okay. I know your answer is no and I can respect that.”
“You can? Are you for real?”
“Yes I'm for real. Why do people keep asking me that?”
“Because . . well, because. The guys are saying that you're too good to be true. Are you?”
“I wouldn't know. I'm just trying to do the right thing and do right by Jordan, he deserves that.”
“Bloody Hell! You're too much. Jordie does deserve the best. He's gay, but he's too little and too young for any sort of serious relationship.”
“He doesn't think so and it's up to him really, isn't it? He's not that young, he's 14, the same as I am. I think he might be a bit older than me actually.”
“Maybe, but he's still little. Jordie is tiny and you're too big for him..”
“Jordan told me that he's only little on the outside, and I think he may be right. Anyway, what do you think I'm going to do – rip him in half?”
“You bloody better not, Kirkwood!”
“I wouldn't do that to him. It's not an issue anyway – it's not happening is it?”
“No? Okay, Dillon Kikwood, if that's what you want, and what Jordie wants, well – go for it.”
“You what? Really?? I thought you were dead against him being anywhere near me.”
“I was, but I can change my mind, can't I? I've been lectured at all bloody night long! Not just with the Cat, they've all been on my case. I'm not going to stand in your way.”
“Thanks, Lucas. I . . really . . well, thanks! That's great.”
“All good,” he shrugged. “I love Jordie and if he's going to have a boyfriend, he should have the best.”
“I know you love him, all the Tight Five do, that's what makes you such good friends.”
“Friends be buggered! I really, really love him – not like the others. I love them as friends but I love him much more than that, I always have, for years now and I've waited for him to grow older and old enough. But that's never going to happen, I can see that now.
He loves me, but no more than he loves Ashton, Gene and the Cat. He'll never love me like I love him, so I'm letting go. I'm warning you though – seriously – you mess with Jordie and I'll kill you. I know where the key to Dad's gun cabinet is and I'll use it if I have to and I won't care if they lock me up for life.”
“Damm. You really mean that, don't you?”
“Of course I bloody mean it!”
“You'll never have to worry, I promise you that, Lucas. I'll treasure him and I'll never make him cry – ever.”
“See that you don't.”
“I won't. Thanks. You're a big guy. I hope we can be friends too, despite everything. I'm sorry if I'm taking him away from you.”
“But you're not. Even if you weren't around, he was never going to be mine.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. Let's go to school.”
Dillon was way happy. He was on top of the world and grinning all morning, but he never got a chance to talk to Jordan until lunchtime. Anyone would think that they were there to do schoolwork – the teachers did. Damm them.
He caught up with Jordan at lunchtime, or Jordan caught up to him really – he ran up and tackled him from behind.
“What the?” Dillon swung around and grinned at the boy grinning at him. “Jordan!”
“Hey. Come with me, Dillon.” He led the way into the Library, which was always quiet at lunchtime – only a few nerds wanted to be there when they didn't have to.
They walked down to the back and around behind some shelves, where no-one could see them.
“Lucas said we can be together!” Dillon burst-out as soon as they were alone. “That means all of the Tight Five say it's all right.”
“Not all of them,” Jordan replied.
“Yeah they did. The Cat, Ashton and Gene told me yesterday and Lucas did this morning.”
“That's only four of the Five by my counting.”
“Four? Oh, yeah, but the other one is you. Your answer would be 'yes', wouldn't it?” Dillon was worried all of a sudden and his face showed it, but not for long.
Jordan stepped close and looked up at him. He pushed his long and unruly hair back away from his face, put his hands around Dillon's head and pulled him down. “This is my answer,” he whispered.
He kissed him.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Brownsville Tales - Jordan, 2
They dropped down out of the tree, carefully not literally, and went out to rejoin the crowd. Dillon had never done this before, so he just followed Jordan's lead – he'd obviously had lots of practice.
It wasn't so apparent when they were sitting down, but walking together, Dillon was very aware of how much taller than Jordan he was. Side by side, close together, he was looking down at the top of his head, so he kept a distance between them so that he could see his face.
Once they were among the other kids they were hemmed in close together again. Judie Meidama wanted to know where Dillon had been?
“Sitting in the shade,” he shrugged. “It's too damm hot out here.”
“You got that right,” she nodded. “All right for the teachers, slacking in the shade. Marley! Where were you? You weren't hiding in a corner with this one, were you?”
'Not likely!' Dillon thought. He glanced sideways at Jordan, then did a double-take and looked again, properly this time. It wasn't Jordan, it was someone else walking near him. The dark hair was the right colour, but it was a bit short and too high up. This was a taller boy. What was his name?
'Lucas. That's him – Lucas Breene.' Jordan had said that he was one of their 'Tight Five'. Breene was short, but taller than Jordan, of course. No-one was as short as Jordan. Where was he now?
“Looking for someone?” Lucas looked up.
“Yeah,” Dillon replied. “I was talking to Jordan Houston. Where did he go?”
“Back with his mates, where he belongs. You keep away from him, Kirkwood. He doesn't need you hanging around him.”
“What? Hell, I was just talking to the kid.”
“Go and talk to someone else and leave Jordan alone.”
Who did this kid think he was? Dillon was getting pissed. “Think you own him or something?”
“More than you do. Lots of pervs think he's something to play with. Stay away from him and leave him alone, Kirkwood.”
“Or what?”
“Try us and you'll find out.”
“Fuck off, Breene.” Dillon scowled and walked alone, back to school.
Well, that wrecked his day. There's nothing like a prick to deflate a good mood and bring you down. He was sour now. Bloody Breene! Who did he think he was? He wasn't hurting the kid, he was just talking to him!
'Tight Five' huh? Too bloody tight, I think. They don't own him, do they?'
The long trail of hot, sweaty, students trudged their way along the road. Certain people cruised past in their air-conditioned cars. Dillon was not the only one glaring at the teachers and thinking what an easy life they had.
Some people changed out of their sports clothes when they got back to school, but not many bothered – the day was over anyway. They sorted their books and gear and went home. At last.
Outside the main gates, Dillon stopped when he saw Jordan coming towards him. He grinned and waved and started back to meet him. But before he got there, four others closed around Jordan and turned him in the other direction. Damm.
They, he supposed, must've been the rest of Jordan's Tight Five. Two boys were on either side of him, one with medium-length sandy-blond hair and the other with longer, very-blond, almost white, hair. They'd be Ashton Morris and Gene Crestani. Lucas Breene walked close behind and a small girl with a big mane of dark hair, led the way. The Tight Five went through the milling mob of kids like a flying wedge on a rugby paddock.
'Damm.' Dillon thought. 'They do bloody think they bloody own him! How am I supposed to talk to him if I can't get near? Sod them anyway.'
“What's the matter, Sweet Thing? Got a guts-ache?”
“What? Oh. Hi, Tess. My guts is fine, thanks.”
“Why've you got a face like thunder then?”
“Because I'm pissed!”
“Not at me, I hope.”
“No, never at you. You're a mate, Tess.”
“Who's upsetting you then”
“That lot.” He looked around but couldn't see them. “Oh. They've gone and taken him with them.”
“Who have gone and who have they taken with them.”
“Jordan Houston and his friends. He calls them the Tight Five.”
“Oh, them. Of course they have. Little Jordan used to get pushed around a bit, years ago. Now the others don't let anyone bother him; they're all very protective of him.
“But what if he wants to be bothered? He's not that fragile, is he”
“I dunno. Go ask him, if you can get close to him, but you'll be lucky.”
“Yeah, I'm starting to think that.”
“Going home?”
“Guess so. There's not much else to do.”
“Cool, I'll walk with you then.”
Next day, back at school, he saw Jordan around, they had most classes together, but even though he wanted to, Dillon couldn't get closer to him. He knew the Kid was keen on knowing him too, or at least he hoped he did.
Their eyes met sometimes and, once or twice, Jordan flashed a small grin before his bodyguards closed in around him and took him away. Again. What did they think he was going to do, kill him or something?
Dillon wanted to talk to Jordan. He liked the kid and he hoped he'd made a new friend, but it looked like his over-protective mates didn't want him to be friends with anyone but them.
'Stuff them anyway!'
He was still going to keep on trying. He hated being frustrated like this and he figured that the boy was worth knowing even if he was surrounded by jealous dumb-arses. He try again in the lunch-hour when there was more time.
That didn't work out so good. Dillon was late getting outside because he was held-up by some girls who wanted to know if he was going to Jess Moran's party on Friday night? (Which he was not, he hadn't been invited. He was a little bit popular, but not that much.)
When he escaped from them, he walked outside and couldn't see the Tight Five anywhere around. They'd gone. Dammit.
He sat outside the Library to eat his lunch. Was that what he thought it was? It was. Someone was in the Music Room playing, not-very-good, metal music, so it was most likely them – the Tight Five, musicians unextraordinary.
He slipped quietly into the Music Room and stood leaning against the back wall. The Tight Five were up on the small stage, playing, fooling around, insulting each other and laughing a lot. Yeah, he thought, they were definitely more about having fun together.
The blond boy, Ashton, was different to the others. He stood a bit apart, off to one side and concentrating on his guitar. But even he looked up and grinned sometimes at the other's antics.
The girl, Cat, saw Dillon there. She stopped singing and stood staring at him. The others all faltered and stopped, looking where she was looking. Ashton was the last to stop.
“What d'you want?” Lucas Breene scowled.
“I . . ah.” It was hard to speak-up with everyone staring. Jordan was smiling, but he was the only one who was. “Jordan said that you guys were a group. I heard you from outside and thought – I wanted to watch and see what you were like.”
“Now you have. You're not welcome here, Kirkwood – bugger off and stay away from our Jordie.”
“Oh?” Dillon bristled. “He's your Jordan, is he?”
“He is,” said the Cat. “Ours and not yours. Go away now.”
“Don't you get any say in this, Jordan?”
Jordan looked a bit embarrassed, he wasn't smiling now. “No. Umm, well yeah, of course I do, but. . . It's not a good time, Dillon. We're practising here. I'll talk to you later.”
Gene Crestani said, “No you won't. You keep away from him, Jordie. We all know what he's after.” He looked over at Dillon. “It's our job to keep the perverts away from our mate. Fuck off, Kirkwood.”
“A pervert now, am I?”
Ashton said, “If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck, chances are it is one.”
“Yeah, chances are,” The Cat agreed. “We've seen it before and it's not happening again. Goodbye.”
“Well, I . . Damm! I'm not one of them!” Red-faced, he stormed out and slammed the door.
Screw them anyway. They were the quacking ones, not him. Who the Hell did they think they were? Who did they think he was? No, that was obvious,. But they were wrong. He was no perv and he didn't want to hurt anyone – except maybe them now. Fuck 'em!
That night, lying in bed when he should've been sleeping, but wasn't, he was still mad about that scene at lunchtime. Angry and embarrassed, Dillon decided, to hell with it. He liked Little Jordan and he'd enjoyed their talk up in the tree, but was it worth it? No, it was not.
He wasn't going to try any more. All he'd wanted was to spend some more time getting to know the kid and, hopefully, making a new friend, and look what happened!
As individuals, each of them seemed like they were okay, even Breene was. But as a group, they were just too much. The Tight Five were well-named. They were so tight there was no room for anyone else. Okay, he was giving up.
You'd think that having made a decision his mind would settle-down and he could go to sleep. But, no. He lay there and tried to think about anything else, but it was hours before he finally drifted off.
He woke in the morning at the usual time, habits and routines are hard to break, and he went off to school tired, grumpy and in a foul mood.
It didn't help when he saw Houston break away from the group of kids he was talking to and turn towards him, obviously ready to talk.
None of the rest of the Tight Five was anywhere around, but they wouldn't be far away. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of the scene in the Music Room, especially not out in front of the school with the whole world watching.
He had to pass close to where he was standing, in front of the main entrance to the school, and he got a big smile from Houston when he walked past.
“Hey, Dillon. How's it going?”
“Good enough,” he grunted and kept going.
Maybe Jordan hadn't got the message, but he had – they were not allowed to be friends. The Tight Five didn't approve. He latched-on to Tess, went to class with her and stayed close to her and away from Jordan Houston and his bodyguards all morning.
He lost his cover at lunchtime. Tess had to leave the school. She was going shopping with her mother, and then had a dentist's appointment, so she wouldn't be back.
“Okay. Say hello to Mum for me.”
“I will and I'll see you tomorrow. Dillon, whatever's going on between you and Jordan Houston needs to be sorted or it'll drive you nuts.”
“What d'you mean? Nothing's going on.”
“Yeah, right! I'm not blind you know. The pair of you have been sneaking looks at each other all morning. For your own sake, sort it. 'Bye Dillon.”
“Bye, Tess.”
He watched her walk away and thought, 'Damm, am I that obvious? I'll stop looking then.'
He went and sat outside the Library to eat his lunch alone. That didn't work out either.
It wasn't so apparent when they were sitting down, but walking together, Dillon was very aware of how much taller than Jordan he was. Side by side, close together, he was looking down at the top of his head, so he kept a distance between them so that he could see his face.
Once they were among the other kids they were hemmed in close together again. Judie Meidama wanted to know where Dillon had been?
“Sitting in the shade,” he shrugged. “It's too damm hot out here.”
“You got that right,” she nodded. “All right for the teachers, slacking in the shade. Marley! Where were you? You weren't hiding in a corner with this one, were you?”
'Not likely!' Dillon thought. He glanced sideways at Jordan, then did a double-take and looked again, properly this time. It wasn't Jordan, it was someone else walking near him. The dark hair was the right colour, but it was a bit short and too high up. This was a taller boy. What was his name?
'Lucas. That's him – Lucas Breene.' Jordan had said that he was one of their 'Tight Five'. Breene was short, but taller than Jordan, of course. No-one was as short as Jordan. Where was he now?
“Looking for someone?” Lucas looked up.
“Yeah,” Dillon replied. “I was talking to Jordan Houston. Where did he go?”
“Back with his mates, where he belongs. You keep away from him, Kirkwood. He doesn't need you hanging around him.”
“What? Hell, I was just talking to the kid.”
“Go and talk to someone else and leave Jordan alone.”
Who did this kid think he was? Dillon was getting pissed. “Think you own him or something?”
“More than you do. Lots of pervs think he's something to play with. Stay away from him and leave him alone, Kirkwood.”
“Or what?”
“Try us and you'll find out.”
“Fuck off, Breene.” Dillon scowled and walked alone, back to school.
Well, that wrecked his day. There's nothing like a prick to deflate a good mood and bring you down. He was sour now. Bloody Breene! Who did he think he was? He wasn't hurting the kid, he was just talking to him!
'Tight Five' huh? Too bloody tight, I think. They don't own him, do they?'
The long trail of hot, sweaty, students trudged their way along the road. Certain people cruised past in their air-conditioned cars. Dillon was not the only one glaring at the teachers and thinking what an easy life they had.
Some people changed out of their sports clothes when they got back to school, but not many bothered – the day was over anyway. They sorted their books and gear and went home. At last.
Outside the main gates, Dillon stopped when he saw Jordan coming towards him. He grinned and waved and started back to meet him. But before he got there, four others closed around Jordan and turned him in the other direction. Damm.
They, he supposed, must've been the rest of Jordan's Tight Five. Two boys were on either side of him, one with medium-length sandy-blond hair and the other with longer, very-blond, almost white, hair. They'd be Ashton Morris and Gene Crestani. Lucas Breene walked close behind and a small girl with a big mane of dark hair, led the way. The Tight Five went through the milling mob of kids like a flying wedge on a rugby paddock.
'Damm.' Dillon thought. 'They do bloody think they bloody own him! How am I supposed to talk to him if I can't get near? Sod them anyway.'
“What's the matter, Sweet Thing? Got a guts-ache?”
“What? Oh. Hi, Tess. My guts is fine, thanks.”
“Why've you got a face like thunder then?”
“Because I'm pissed!”
“Not at me, I hope.”
“No, never at you. You're a mate, Tess.”
“Who's upsetting you then”
“That lot.” He looked around but couldn't see them. “Oh. They've gone and taken him with them.”
“Who have gone and who have they taken with them.”
“Jordan Houston and his friends. He calls them the Tight Five.”
“Oh, them. Of course they have. Little Jordan used to get pushed around a bit, years ago. Now the others don't let anyone bother him; they're all very protective of him.
“But what if he wants to be bothered? He's not that fragile, is he”
“I dunno. Go ask him, if you can get close to him, but you'll be lucky.”
“Yeah, I'm starting to think that.”
“Going home?”
“Guess so. There's not much else to do.”
“Cool, I'll walk with you then.”
Next day, back at school, he saw Jordan around, they had most classes together, but even though he wanted to, Dillon couldn't get closer to him. He knew the Kid was keen on knowing him too, or at least he hoped he did.
Their eyes met sometimes and, once or twice, Jordan flashed a small grin before his bodyguards closed in around him and took him away. Again. What did they think he was going to do, kill him or something?
Dillon wanted to talk to Jordan. He liked the kid and he hoped he'd made a new friend, but it looked like his over-protective mates didn't want him to be friends with anyone but them.
'Stuff them anyway!'
He was still going to keep on trying. He hated being frustrated like this and he figured that the boy was worth knowing even if he was surrounded by jealous dumb-arses. He try again in the lunch-hour when there was more time.
That didn't work out so good. Dillon was late getting outside because he was held-up by some girls who wanted to know if he was going to Jess Moran's party on Friday night? (Which he was not, he hadn't been invited. He was a little bit popular, but not that much.)
When he escaped from them, he walked outside and couldn't see the Tight Five anywhere around. They'd gone. Dammit.
He sat outside the Library to eat his lunch. Was that what he thought it was? It was. Someone was in the Music Room playing, not-very-good, metal music, so it was most likely them – the Tight Five, musicians unextraordinary.
He slipped quietly into the Music Room and stood leaning against the back wall. The Tight Five were up on the small stage, playing, fooling around, insulting each other and laughing a lot. Yeah, he thought, they were definitely more about having fun together.
The blond boy, Ashton, was different to the others. He stood a bit apart, off to one side and concentrating on his guitar. But even he looked up and grinned sometimes at the other's antics.
The girl, Cat, saw Dillon there. She stopped singing and stood staring at him. The others all faltered and stopped, looking where she was looking. Ashton was the last to stop.
“What d'you want?” Lucas Breene scowled.
“I . . ah.” It was hard to speak-up with everyone staring. Jordan was smiling, but he was the only one who was. “Jordan said that you guys were a group. I heard you from outside and thought – I wanted to watch and see what you were like.”
“Now you have. You're not welcome here, Kirkwood – bugger off and stay away from our Jordie.”
“Oh?” Dillon bristled. “He's your Jordan, is he?”
“He is,” said the Cat. “Ours and not yours. Go away now.”
“Don't you get any say in this, Jordan?”
Jordan looked a bit embarrassed, he wasn't smiling now. “No. Umm, well yeah, of course I do, but. . . It's not a good time, Dillon. We're practising here. I'll talk to you later.”
Gene Crestani said, “No you won't. You keep away from him, Jordie. We all know what he's after.” He looked over at Dillon. “It's our job to keep the perverts away from our mate. Fuck off, Kirkwood.”
“A pervert now, am I?”
Ashton said, “If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck, chances are it is one.”
“Yeah, chances are,” The Cat agreed. “We've seen it before and it's not happening again. Goodbye.”
“Well, I . . Damm! I'm not one of them!” Red-faced, he stormed out and slammed the door.
Screw them anyway. They were the quacking ones, not him. Who the Hell did they think they were? Who did they think he was? No, that was obvious,. But they were wrong. He was no perv and he didn't want to hurt anyone – except maybe them now. Fuck 'em!
That night, lying in bed when he should've been sleeping, but wasn't, he was still mad about that scene at lunchtime. Angry and embarrassed, Dillon decided, to hell with it. He liked Little Jordan and he'd enjoyed their talk up in the tree, but was it worth it? No, it was not.
He wasn't going to try any more. All he'd wanted was to spend some more time getting to know the kid and, hopefully, making a new friend, and look what happened!
As individuals, each of them seemed like they were okay, even Breene was. But as a group, they were just too much. The Tight Five were well-named. They were so tight there was no room for anyone else. Okay, he was giving up.
You'd think that having made a decision his mind would settle-down and he could go to sleep. But, no. He lay there and tried to think about anything else, but it was hours before he finally drifted off.
He woke in the morning at the usual time, habits and routines are hard to break, and he went off to school tired, grumpy and in a foul mood.
It didn't help when he saw Houston break away from the group of kids he was talking to and turn towards him, obviously ready to talk.
None of the rest of the Tight Five was anywhere around, but they wouldn't be far away. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of the scene in the Music Room, especially not out in front of the school with the whole world watching.
He had to pass close to where he was standing, in front of the main entrance to the school, and he got a big smile from Houston when he walked past.
“Hey, Dillon. How's it going?”
“Good enough,” he grunted and kept going.
Maybe Jordan hadn't got the message, but he had – they were not allowed to be friends. The Tight Five didn't approve. He latched-on to Tess, went to class with her and stayed close to her and away from Jordan Houston and his bodyguards all morning.
He lost his cover at lunchtime. Tess had to leave the school. She was going shopping with her mother, and then had a dentist's appointment, so she wouldn't be back.
“Okay. Say hello to Mum for me.”
“I will and I'll see you tomorrow. Dillon, whatever's going on between you and Jordan Houston needs to be sorted or it'll drive you nuts.”
“What d'you mean? Nothing's going on.”
“Yeah, right! I'm not blind you know. The pair of you have been sneaking looks at each other all morning. For your own sake, sort it. 'Bye Dillon.”
“Bye, Tess.”
He watched her walk away and thought, 'Damm, am I that obvious? I'll stop looking then.'
He went and sat outside the Library to eat his lunch alone. That didn't work out either.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Brownsville Tales - Jordan
(Thanks Baruch)
Brownsville High's annual athletics day was held at the end of Febuary each year, for some strange reason.
Actually, there were good reasons for holding it then. First, it was still close to the start of the year and so was a good chance for the students to show what they could do and for the Phys Ed teachers to rate them. Second, holding it at the same time each year meant that conditions were roughly the same each year; which was fair on current and previous record-holders. Third, it was a chance for a collective day off after the grind of settling down and beginning another year's work.
The day was a good bonding exercise for the student body and the weather, pretty much, was guaranteed to be fine.
'Fine for some.' Dillon frowned at the group of 'supervising' teaching staff sitting comfortably in the shade under the wide verandah roof around the sports pavilion. It was all right for them, they didn't have to bake in the sunshine and run around all day, sweating their rings out.
It was still the middle of freakin' summer and, and as far he was concerned, it was a seriously dumb-arse time to be holding an outdoor sports meeting. Winter would make more sense, but then, he frowned at the staff again, some people wouldn't be keeping warm by burning calories.
He glanced up, briefly, at the wicked sun beaming down. 'A bit of rain would be nice.' Even some cloud cover would be better than this. This was bloody torture.
The next event on their schedule was the 1500 meters, long distance race. In this heat, that was just too long – too long and too much. He'd done enough running around in the sun. Now was the time to sit and cool off a bit. 'That'd be cool!'
He grinned at his own, weak, joke and looked enviously at the teachers. They were sitting there like bosses on a cotton plantation while the slaves toiled in the sunshine. So not fair!
Outside the pavilion wasn't the only shaded area. He glanced over at the line of old trees at the back of the playing fields. All he had to do was to get in under the lower branches and he'd be out of sight and home free. They could keep their bloody buggery races, he'd had enough.
The discus, shot-put and hammer throws were still dragging on. He'd bombed-out there ages ago and he didn't care.
He stood up, did a few half-hearted stretching exercises, and then, without saying anything to anyone, started jogging slowly around the outside track. Anyone watching would think that he was warming-up for the big race, he hoped.
He wasn't the only one doing it so, hopefully, no-one would take any notice of him.
He stuck to the outside of the track and, when he came close to the trees, he stopped for a 'breather', leaning forward with his legs wide-spread and his hands on his thighs. He sat down on the grass.
Damm, even the ground was hot! No-one was looking at him. He lay on his back, and then quickly rolled over and into the dark shade below the trees.
The bottom branches didn't quite reach to the ground, they were about a meter clear of it. Lying on the bare ground, he could see everyone out there but, hopefully, they couldn't see him there in the shade. The glorious shade! It was better, but still not very cool in there. There wasn't a breath of wind and it was hot and stuffy everywhere.
'What a dumb day for a sports meet.'
It felt like it was the hottest day of the year.
There was no undergrowth at all in there, not even a single blade of grass. The only covering on the hard dry ground was a layer of litter – years of fallen leaves, small dead branches and the occasional round cone. Macrocarpas are like that, they don't like competition and they kill everything trying to grow below them. That's probably why groundsmen like them for borders – less maintainance to be done around them.
'It wouldn't hurt to rake all this stuff up. It's all so dry, it must be a fire hazard. One match and there'd be a raging inferno in here. However, not my problem.'
He had no matches on him anyway. There was nowhere to put them in the silly little sports-shorts that he was wearing. He crawled further back in and sat leaning back against a trunk, with his eyes closed, enjoying the relief from the heat.
He didn't know what it was, but some strange noise made him snap his eyes open again.
There was a small patch of colour up in the tree, a few meters above him. What? Someone's sports clothes thrown up in the branches? Why?
Puzzled, he stood up, then grabbed the branch above him to pull himself up for a closer look. Yes, it was sports clothes that he'd seen, but they weren't just thrown up there. Someone was wearing them.
There was somebody up there, sitting in the branches. He wasn't the first one to have the brilliant idea of hiding in here then. But who? He couldn't see.
He climbed right up and, carefully, stood on the branch, keeping one steadying hand on the trunk next to him. Okay, he was still not sure, so he climbed up on to the next branch, and the next, and pulled himself up next to the boy sitting there.
“Midget! What're you doing up here?”
Jordan Houston looked around and, if looks could kill he'd be in trouble. So that was what a 'look of disdain' looked like. Without saying a word, Houston made him feel like he was the little one – little and stupid.
“I mean, umm, well . . you're obviously here for the same reason that I am – escaping from the torturers out there But why climb up in the tree?”
“If you half a brain, you'd work it out for yourself. They can see you when you're sitting on the ground. Dimwit.”
“Dimwit?”
“Fuckwit then. That fits better actually.” He got up and stood on the branch without even holding on to anything.
Dillon was impressed. If he tried that, he'd be down on the ground and hurting by now. He glanced down and nodded. 'Hurting all over, probably.'
He looked up again at the boy standing above him. “You've got good balance. If I tried that, I'd be flat on my arse on the ground.”
“Do it then. I could do with a laugh.”
“Hey! Don't be like that, Midget.”
“Go fuck yourself, Kirkwood.” He reached up, grabbed the branch above him and, with two jerks, stood up on that one.
Then he began climbing higher up, walking around the tree like he was on a spiral staircase. He had to duck and weave around some twigs, but basically the branches grew out of the tree in a spiral. Dillon hadn't realised that, but then, he'd never spent a lot of time up in trees. This kid obviously had, he was quite at home here, comfortable and good at it too.
“Hey, wait. Where're you going?”
“Anywhere away from you.” He kept climbing.
Dillon was puzzled and a bit pissed. What the hell was wrong with him? He was an okay sort of person, wasn't he? He had a lot of friends and some good ones too. He got along with most people and was not used to being hated – not like this.
What the hell was up with the Midget? They'd never been close, but he'd seen him around a lot, always laughing and joking. He wasn't grinning now. Why not? What had he done?
There was one good thing about all this. Houston might be mad at him and running away, but he was going up, not down. Sooner or later, he was going to have to come down again. Only problem was – it might be later.
Once everyone out there had finished sweating in the sun, they'd be going back to school and those who were not there would be missed. He didn't have a perfect record, but it was pretty good and he didn't want to get in trouble – or cause Houston to either.
There was only one thing to do then. He started climbing – going up to make things right with the kid. Hopefully.
Going up the tree was nowhere near as easy as Houston had made it look. Even following the spiral of the branches, it was hard work. But, he was careful, slow and steady, and he got there.
The tree was getting smaller. The branches thinned-out and the trunk was starting to sway. That'd look funny from the outside; there was no wind at all out there. He climbed up to where the other boy was stopped and glaring down at him.
“Damm. I'm not as good at this as you are. You made it look easy.”
“Just fuck off, will ya!”
“Don't be like that. I want to talk.”
“Tough! I don't want to talk to you. Not now, not ever. Fuck off and leave me alone. Come any closer and I'll boot you in the face.”
“You really don't like me, Jordan? Why not? I'm a good guy.”
“Says who?”
“Well, there's my mum. She likes me.”
“She has to. That's her job, innit? It's not mine and I don't, so fuck off!”
“If you want me to, I will. But first, tell me why you don't like me. I've never done anything to you, have I?”
“You have.”
“What then? Tell me and I'll apologise.”
Jordan glared down at the big, brown, puppy-eyes pleading up at him. His face softened and he sighed. “All right then. You called me 'Midget' and I hate that. I hate it and I hate anyone who says it and I hate you.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn't know it upset you that much. I just thought it was a name that people called you. I won't do that again. Sorry.”
Dillon waited but there was no answer, so now he sighed, turned away and started climbing back down, slowly and carefully. “I'll leave you alone now.”
Jordan watched him and thought, 'Sorry? Yeah, I think you are. Maybe I was a bit harsh, you seem like a good guy. Only one way to find out.'
“Kirkwood, wait. Stop there, I'm coming down.” He skitted down to where Dillon was and sat on a branch next to him. “They'll be a few minutes before they're finished out there. Sit down and talk to me.”
“Okay, sure!” Dillon lost the worried look and a smile lit-up his face. He sat down, carefully keeping one hand on the trunk. “What do we talk about?”
“About you, for a start,” Jordan grinned. “All I know is that you haven't been in town very long and your name is Kirkwood. Tell me more – what's your proper name, where are you from and why are you here?”
“Okay. I'm called Dillon, we came from Christchurch a few months ago when my parents split-up. Mum's got a job here, she's a receptionist and medical assistant at the dentist's.”
“Sooner her than me,” Jordan grimaced. “So are you earthquake refugees?”
“Not really. Our house was okay – a lot better than most. A chimney came down through the roof and there was some liquification in the driveway, but that was all. But, yeah., I suppose we are refugees in a way.
We didn't lose the house and shit, but the stress probably helped break-up the family. It's happening a lot and thousands of people are getting out of there.”
“They'll go back in time. Things will settle down and there'll be heaps of jobs there soon – they've got a city to rebuild.”
“I suppose. I'm glad we're out anyway. It's nice to walk into a building and know it's not going to fall down on you.”
“Ah, but do you know that? Earthquakes can happen anywhere, anytime and the experts say that we're overdue for a big one here.”
“Oh, great! Thanks for that. Here I was thinking that we're safe now.”
“You most likely are safe, for now. Christchurch will be the safest place in the country now the pressure has all gone. It'll take years for it to build-up again for the next big one”
“If the pressure has all gone. Nobody knows if they're finished. Let's talk about something else. How about you? You're a local?”
“Well,” Jordan shrugged. “Almost a local. I wasn't born here, we moved down from Nelson when I was a baby. Dad's a driver at the mine and Mum works, part-time, commercial cleaning. I've got one sister – Kate. She's 12 and bigger than me. Have you got siblings?”
“No, no brothers ever and no sisters now.” Dillon's face fell.
There was obviously a story there, and not a good one. He looked upset, almost like he was going to cry, so Jordan changed the subject. “What are you doing, hiding away in the trees here? I thought a big, strong kid like you would be really into sports.”
“Yeah, sometimes I am, “ he grinned again and shrugged. “But not now. It's too dammed hot out there and I've had enough of it. Why are you here? Not the sporty type?”
“Hardly! I'm not built for it, am I? With these arms and legs, people run all over me and I get sick of losing, so I get out of it whenever I can.”
“Fair enough, I guess. Can't you get a note from a doctor to say that you can't play sports? Then you wouldn't have to hide.”
“A doctor? Watch it, Mate. I'm not sick, I'm just little.”
“Yeah. You are that. You're small for your age.”
“Only on the outside. What sort of music are you into?”
“Music? All sorts, I guess. I like metal – Megadeath, Asking Alexandria, Chelsea Grin, that sort of thing.”
“All right! You've got good taste. That's our sort of music.” Jordan beamed his cheeky grin.
“Our music? You and who else?”
“Us, of course – the Tight Five. We've got a group. Do you play anything?”
“Me? No, just play the fool, sometimes. What do you play?”
“I'm on drums. If you say 'Little Drummer Boy', I'm outta here!”
“O – kay. Am I allowed to think it?”
“Thnk what you want. Just don't say it.”
“I won't then. Who else is in your group?”
“Ashton Morris is our star. He's on lead guitar and he's really, really good. Gene Crestani is rythym guitar and Lucas Breene on bass.”
“That makes four. Why call yourselves the Tight Five?”
“Because we are – very tight. It's a rugby expression, the Tight Five are the front row – the Hooker, two Props and two Locks.”
“But you've only got four.”
“No, there's five. The Cat does vocals.”
“And the Cat is?”
“Caitlyn Sawyer. She's our mate too.”
“So one of your mates is a girl. Is your group any good?”
“No. We're just crap really, apart from Ashton, he's good. We have a lot of fun and it's something to do.”
“Fair enough. I hope I get to hear you play sometime.”
“You can if you want. We're entering the Smokefree Rockquest this year – we won't win but it'll be an experience.”
“You're not exactly over-confident.”
“Yeah I am – confident that we'll lose, and we will. As long as we have fun, that's what matters.”
“I guess so. Good luck anyway.”
They sat up in the tree and talked, both enjoying themslves until they had to cut it short. Someone was running around out there, blowing a whistle like a mad thing. The sports day was over, it was time to get down and go back to school.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Brownsville, JJ Erickson & Jordan
(Another interlude. Tidied up, thanks to Tracy)
'Another day older and deeper in debt.' JJ Erickson walked downtown after school was over for the day.
It was a fair way to walk, but easy going because it was mostly downhill. Going back home would be another story! Still, it was a nice day and it's good to get some exercise and fresh air after being stuck in a classroom all day.
The walk was more from necessity than choice, he had no car and his bike was out of action, he needed a new tube for the back wheel. That was one reason he was going downtown, the other was that his mother wanted him to pick up her prescription from the chemist's.
It was hardly fair that he had to walk while her car was sitting at home doing nothing. She wouldn't let him use it, she never did. He'd never been allowed her car again after the night he and a crowd of dumb-arse mates had taken it out joy-riding and got it stuck in the gravel-pit down on the riverbed.
Apparently, stunt cars in the movies were special ones and not just little ladies' runabouts. By the time they found a 4-wheel drive and a driver willing to pull them out, (not easy to do at 2 in the morning), the tide had come in and the car was swamped in muddy water.
He was days scrubbing it out after that and the car was never the same again. That happened 10 years ago! He was 14 then and now he was 24, but, apparently, 'banned for life' means banned for life.
His mother wasn't a bad old stick really, but she had an unforgiving streak and a very long memory.
“Oh well'” he sighed. 'Consequences. They never occur to teenagers.' They certainly didn't to him. All part of being a risk-taking teen, he guessed.
Speaking of which, there was a good example right there! A boy on a bike came racing around the corner and off down the road ahead. He was trailing a rope and towing one of those small-wheeled, kid's scooters. Sitting on that, without even holding on, was little Jordan Houston, smiling and waving like a king in his carriage.
'Silly little bugger!' John shook his head. He'd have to stop thinking about how small Jordan was; that was not fair on the kid, there was more to him than that.
People, especially young ones, came in all shapes and sizes. Some of them were overweight, some could do with more. There were dark ones, fair ones, tall and short. Some, probably most of them, fell somewhere in the middle and they all grew at different rates and times. And then there was Jordan Houston – in a class of his own.
Jordan was not just short, he was tiny, like a little boy-doll, almost. He made short kids look tall. He was not a dwarf, everything was in perfect proportions. A very nice, and cheeky, looking boy actually, when you could see him under that mop of hair. But he was little, at least 14 years old now and about the size of an 8 or 9 year old.
He was bright enough, full of fun and mischief and often in trouble because of it. He was not the most popular boy in the school, but not the least either. He had some good close friends and he was, all-round, a normal kid, apart from the size – or lack of it.
Always up for a joke, he was happy, laughing and easy-going, usually. The one thing that really got him mad was when people called him, 'Midget'. He HATED that and let them know in no uncertain terms. If he'd learn to ignore them it wouldn't be so much fun and they'd move on to someone else, but he didn't.
Watching them disappear down the hill ahead of him, John was thinking that Jordan's small stature wasn't all bad. A bigger kid wouldn't ride so comfortably, sitting on the scooter like that. Part of him thought that it looked like fun, but the adult side of him thought that it was bloody dangerous.
Still in his school clothes, his bare arms and legs were a scant few centimeters above the rough road surface. Also, he'd be easily overlooked down there. Motorists tended to focus on car-sized objects. If anything happened, he'd be smeared across the road in a bloody mess! They were going too fast and, if John knew anything about kids, they'd be going even faster at the foot of the hill.
Jordan Houston would be getting a lecture next time he was talking to him.
John was delayed when walking passed the Convenience Store. Two women came out of there and accosted him. One of them was the mother of a girl in Year 10, and the other was her aunt. They were concerned about the sudden change for the worse in their girl.
Overnight, almost, she'd changed from a delightful child to a surly, rebellious teenager. Her mother was sure she didn't know what to do with her.
John said, “Julie is in Year 10, is she 14 then?”
“She is,” the mother replied. “She turned 14 a couple of weeks ago. Is she getting into bad company at school? Is that what's causing it?”
“No, not that I know of. I don't know Julie very well, I usually only teach boys' classes now, but, from what I can see, she's just a normal teenager. It's fairly normal behaviour you're describing, they all go through these phases. There's not a lot anyone can do, except wait. She'll come through it. 99.9% of them do.
The best you can do is to keep on loving her and the less lovable she is, the more she needs it. You've been lucky, the switch-over usually happens at around 13. The only thing different about Julie is that she's starting late.”
“Thanks. I suppose we'll just have to hope that she is not late coming out the other side as well.”
“I guess so. There's some very good books on child-development in the town library. I suggest you check them out. Don't worry, she'll be okay. I was a rotten teenager myself, I came through it.”
“Yes you did, John Erickson,” the aunty nodded. “I remember when you were a harum-scarum kid, always in trouble. This is a small town.”
“It is!” John laughed. “A small town with a long memory. Sometimes I wonder why I came back here. My mother still thinks I'm a kid.”
“She probably always will, but she must be proud of you too. You've made something of yourself and you're a good man. I never thought that would happen!”
“I think, not many people did,” he smiled.
“Maybe not, but they were wrong. I don't know if it's respect exactly, but I know that the kids like you a lot.”
“Probably because it's mutual. I like them too, on the whole.”
An ambulance, lights flashing and siren wailing, came racing around the corner and down the hill ahead of them. They stopped and watched it going, as you do.
One lady said, “Someone's in trouble.”
The second one said, “Looks like it, but I always prefer to think, 'Help is on its way.'”
John thought, 'Jordan! Fuck, I hope it's not you that they're racing to.'
He hoped it wasn't, but he wouldn't be at all surprised – riding that scooter like that. Those small wheels were never meant to go at that speed. The way they'd come around the corner, with the scooter swinging out wide and almost catching up to the bike – well, anything could happen and it could be nasty.
Damm, he hoped it wasn't him. He hoped it wasn't any kids he knew, but obviously, it was somebody in trouble. The ambulance wouldn't be tearing down the road like that unless they had a good reason to.
“Well, Ladies, I better be moving on. Don't worry about Julie, she'll be okay.”
“I hope you're right, John, and thanks. You have a good day now.”
“Thanks. You do to. 'Bye.”
He strode off down the road, crested the top of the hill and could see, away in the distance down at the bottom, the ambulance had stopped, there were 2 police cars there and a crowd of curious ghouls had gathered already. 'Never takes long.'
He was too far away to see any more with all the people in the way. The police seemed to be pushing them back, and fair enough too. They weren't helping.
He hurried anxiously down the road. It might not be Jordan there, he hoped, but it could well be him. He wished now that he'd stopped them as soon as he'd seen them and before anything happened.
But, would they have listened to him anyway? Probably not – they weren't in school and he had no authority over them after hours. (Didn't have much when they were there either!)
Before he was even halfway there, the ambulance started again, went around the roundabout, came back up the hill and disappeared behind him, towards the hospital. The police cars moved away, the crowd was dispersing and traffic started moving, until a freight train rumbled over the crossing and stopped them again.
He hurried down the sidewalk, not running, but getting out of breath anyway. He was so unfit! Something was going to have to be done about that, but not now.
He met up with an old guy he'd seen leaving the scene, stopped and asked him, “Mr. Wilkins, what happened there?”
“I'm not too sure. Some kid got knocked off his bike, I think. Something like that. It was all over before I got there.”
“Some kid? Who was he, did you hear?”
“No, sorry. Like I said, I was late.”
“Did you see him at all? What did he look like?”
“I don't know. All I saw was the stretcher going into the ambulance. They slammed the doors and left. Story of my life really, I think I must have been born late.”
“Oh. Well, someone must know. Thanks, Mr. Wilkins – be seeing you.”
“Yes, you will. Goodbye, young John.”
Down in the town area, he went first to the bike shop, because it was furtherest away, and then back to the chemist's. No-one he spoke to could tell him any more about the accident than what he already knew. Which was not a lot.
He couldn't believe how blithely uninterested everyone was. If it didn't affect them personally, they didn't care much. That was SO not right – the Heartless Buggers!
He didn't know how affected he was, but he was worried. If it was a kid, then, chances were, it was somebody from the school. Damm, he hoped it wasn't Jordan.
It wasn't Jordan. Lost in thought, he came out of the chemist shop and literally walked into him.
“Oops, sorry. Jordan! Oh thank God it's you. You okay, Boy?”
“I think I'll live,” Jordan grinned up at him, peering through his over-long fringe. “You didn't hit me that hard. But why are you glad that it's me you banged into?”
“No. I'm not glad about that. I'm just happy to see you.”
“Aren't you always?”
“Not always, no, but sometimes.”
“Why now then?”
“There was an accident, up by the roundabout. A kid was hurt, I was worried that it was you.”
“Well it wasn't. It was Gordie Berry. He's a bit of a mess, but he'll live. Why would you think it was me, Mr. E?”
“Ask yourself, Jordan. Why would I be worried that you'd been hurt when you'd just gone racing past me, sitting on a scooter and being towed by a bike?”
“I don't know. Why?”
“Why? Because it was a bloody silly thing to do and dangerous too!”
“Dangerous? Yeah, I guess. It was fun though, fun and fast. Trouble is, bloody Gene's gone now and he took my scooter with him. Swine! Now I've gotta walk all the way back home. Unless some kind teacher is going to give me a ride?”
“A kind teacher. Is there such a creature?”
“Come to think of it, probably not.”
“Don't flash your big calf's eyes at me, Boy. That won't work. I'd give you a ride home if I could, but I'm walking too.”
“Walking back home now, Mr. E? Okay, I'll walk with you. We live in the same street.”
“I know that. You're just 3 doors past ours.”
“Yeah. Way too close, I think.”
“Enough cheek out of you! Jordan, don't go riding your scooter like that again. That could just as easily have been you being scraped off the road. At the speed you were going, it could've even killed you.”
“You think? Okay, we won't do that again. Next time, I'll make Gene bloody slow down. I'll throw out an anchor or something.”
“Next time? I hope there is no next time.”
“Ah! Live in hope, don't you, Mr. E?”
They walked together, back up the road and to the side-street where their homes were, chatting, laughing and growling all the way. John was thinking how much he liked this kid. It wasn't that many years ago that he was a teen himself and he still knew something of their world. Jordan, once you got past the cheek, was a thoroughly nice kid and easy to have an almost-adult conversation with.
They'd just rounded the corner into their street when a big, rough, old van, pulsing the usual crappy music that all the boy-racers played, pulled in next to them. It was an ominous, evil-looking thing, painted black and with black windows.
John thought, 'Who'd drive something like that, and why?'
Jordan obviously knew and he was delighted. “Bomber!” he exclaimed. “See ya, Mr. E. I've got a ride home now!”
“But you only live 6 doors up the street.”
“Yeah, I know. But it's Bomber and the Sex Machine! Total coolness. See ya.” He jumped into the passenger's side.
The door slammed, the van took off with a roar and a squeal of tyres, and disappeared around the corner up the street.
'Bomber? Sex Machine?' John smiled ruefully, shook his head and went home.
He stepped over the front gate and Peter was sitting on the steps outside the house, “fixing” his bike, as usual. He'd be better off if he'd just leave the bloody thing alone and stop tinkering with it.
“Peter, who is Bomber, do y'know? He drives a big black van. Jordan Houston just jumped in and went off with him.”
“In the Sex Machine?” Peter grinned. “Lucky Midget!”
“You shouldn't call him that. You know he doesn't like it.”
“Doesn't like it? He hates it; that's what makes it fun!”
“Don't do it anyway. Should I be concerned about him going off like that?”
“Nah. He'll be all right. Might even get lucky!”
“Peter! Who is this 'Bomber' guy?”
“It's not a guy – Bomber's a girl.”
“Really? Bomber is a girl, driving around in the Sex Machine?”
“Yeah. You can stop worrying, Bro. Bomber is okay. She's all talk really. She only comes back here to see Dave Fortune. The Mid . .. okay, Jordan, is just a friend. No-one's going to molest him. Eww. That'd be like doing a little kid!”
“Oh. Just a friend then. That's good. Thanks, Peter.” He brushed past him and went inside.
'Another day older and deeper in debt.' JJ Erickson walked downtown after school was over for the day.
It was a fair way to walk, but easy going because it was mostly downhill. Going back home would be another story! Still, it was a nice day and it's good to get some exercise and fresh air after being stuck in a classroom all day.
The walk was more from necessity than choice, he had no car and his bike was out of action, he needed a new tube for the back wheel. That was one reason he was going downtown, the other was that his mother wanted him to pick up her prescription from the chemist's.
It was hardly fair that he had to walk while her car was sitting at home doing nothing. She wouldn't let him use it, she never did. He'd never been allowed her car again after the night he and a crowd of dumb-arse mates had taken it out joy-riding and got it stuck in the gravel-pit down on the riverbed.
Apparently, stunt cars in the movies were special ones and not just little ladies' runabouts. By the time they found a 4-wheel drive and a driver willing to pull them out, (not easy to do at 2 in the morning), the tide had come in and the car was swamped in muddy water.
He was days scrubbing it out after that and the car was never the same again. That happened 10 years ago! He was 14 then and now he was 24, but, apparently, 'banned for life' means banned for life.
His mother wasn't a bad old stick really, but she had an unforgiving streak and a very long memory.
“Oh well'” he sighed. 'Consequences. They never occur to teenagers.' They certainly didn't to him. All part of being a risk-taking teen, he guessed.
Speaking of which, there was a good example right there! A boy on a bike came racing around the corner and off down the road ahead. He was trailing a rope and towing one of those small-wheeled, kid's scooters. Sitting on that, without even holding on, was little Jordan Houston, smiling and waving like a king in his carriage.
'Silly little bugger!' John shook his head. He'd have to stop thinking about how small Jordan was; that was not fair on the kid, there was more to him than that.
People, especially young ones, came in all shapes and sizes. Some of them were overweight, some could do with more. There were dark ones, fair ones, tall and short. Some, probably most of them, fell somewhere in the middle and they all grew at different rates and times. And then there was Jordan Houston – in a class of his own.
Jordan was not just short, he was tiny, like a little boy-doll, almost. He made short kids look tall. He was not a dwarf, everything was in perfect proportions. A very nice, and cheeky, looking boy actually, when you could see him under that mop of hair. But he was little, at least 14 years old now and about the size of an 8 or 9 year old.
He was bright enough, full of fun and mischief and often in trouble because of it. He was not the most popular boy in the school, but not the least either. He had some good close friends and he was, all-round, a normal kid, apart from the size – or lack of it.
Always up for a joke, he was happy, laughing and easy-going, usually. The one thing that really got him mad was when people called him, 'Midget'. He HATED that and let them know in no uncertain terms. If he'd learn to ignore them it wouldn't be so much fun and they'd move on to someone else, but he didn't.
Watching them disappear down the hill ahead of him, John was thinking that Jordan's small stature wasn't all bad. A bigger kid wouldn't ride so comfortably, sitting on the scooter like that. Part of him thought that it looked like fun, but the adult side of him thought that it was bloody dangerous.
Still in his school clothes, his bare arms and legs were a scant few centimeters above the rough road surface. Also, he'd be easily overlooked down there. Motorists tended to focus on car-sized objects. If anything happened, he'd be smeared across the road in a bloody mess! They were going too fast and, if John knew anything about kids, they'd be going even faster at the foot of the hill.
Jordan Houston would be getting a lecture next time he was talking to him.
John was delayed when walking passed the Convenience Store. Two women came out of there and accosted him. One of them was the mother of a girl in Year 10, and the other was her aunt. They were concerned about the sudden change for the worse in their girl.
Overnight, almost, she'd changed from a delightful child to a surly, rebellious teenager. Her mother was sure she didn't know what to do with her.
John said, “Julie is in Year 10, is she 14 then?”
“She is,” the mother replied. “She turned 14 a couple of weeks ago. Is she getting into bad company at school? Is that what's causing it?”
“No, not that I know of. I don't know Julie very well, I usually only teach boys' classes now, but, from what I can see, she's just a normal teenager. It's fairly normal behaviour you're describing, they all go through these phases. There's not a lot anyone can do, except wait. She'll come through it. 99.9% of them do.
The best you can do is to keep on loving her and the less lovable she is, the more she needs it. You've been lucky, the switch-over usually happens at around 13. The only thing different about Julie is that she's starting late.”
“Thanks. I suppose we'll just have to hope that she is not late coming out the other side as well.”
“I guess so. There's some very good books on child-development in the town library. I suggest you check them out. Don't worry, she'll be okay. I was a rotten teenager myself, I came through it.”
“Yes you did, John Erickson,” the aunty nodded. “I remember when you were a harum-scarum kid, always in trouble. This is a small town.”
“It is!” John laughed. “A small town with a long memory. Sometimes I wonder why I came back here. My mother still thinks I'm a kid.”
“She probably always will, but she must be proud of you too. You've made something of yourself and you're a good man. I never thought that would happen!”
“I think, not many people did,” he smiled.
“Maybe not, but they were wrong. I don't know if it's respect exactly, but I know that the kids like you a lot.”
“Probably because it's mutual. I like them too, on the whole.”
An ambulance, lights flashing and siren wailing, came racing around the corner and down the hill ahead of them. They stopped and watched it going, as you do.
One lady said, “Someone's in trouble.”
The second one said, “Looks like it, but I always prefer to think, 'Help is on its way.'”
John thought, 'Jordan! Fuck, I hope it's not you that they're racing to.'
He hoped it wasn't, but he wouldn't be at all surprised – riding that scooter like that. Those small wheels were never meant to go at that speed. The way they'd come around the corner, with the scooter swinging out wide and almost catching up to the bike – well, anything could happen and it could be nasty.
Damm, he hoped it wasn't him. He hoped it wasn't any kids he knew, but obviously, it was somebody in trouble. The ambulance wouldn't be tearing down the road like that unless they had a good reason to.
“Well, Ladies, I better be moving on. Don't worry about Julie, she'll be okay.”
“I hope you're right, John, and thanks. You have a good day now.”
“Thanks. You do to. 'Bye.”
He strode off down the road, crested the top of the hill and could see, away in the distance down at the bottom, the ambulance had stopped, there were 2 police cars there and a crowd of curious ghouls had gathered already. 'Never takes long.'
He was too far away to see any more with all the people in the way. The police seemed to be pushing them back, and fair enough too. They weren't helping.
He hurried anxiously down the road. It might not be Jordan there, he hoped, but it could well be him. He wished now that he'd stopped them as soon as he'd seen them and before anything happened.
But, would they have listened to him anyway? Probably not – they weren't in school and he had no authority over them after hours. (Didn't have much when they were there either!)
Before he was even halfway there, the ambulance started again, went around the roundabout, came back up the hill and disappeared behind him, towards the hospital. The police cars moved away, the crowd was dispersing and traffic started moving, until a freight train rumbled over the crossing and stopped them again.
He hurried down the sidewalk, not running, but getting out of breath anyway. He was so unfit! Something was going to have to be done about that, but not now.
He met up with an old guy he'd seen leaving the scene, stopped and asked him, “Mr. Wilkins, what happened there?”
“I'm not too sure. Some kid got knocked off his bike, I think. Something like that. It was all over before I got there.”
“Some kid? Who was he, did you hear?”
“No, sorry. Like I said, I was late.”
“Did you see him at all? What did he look like?”
“I don't know. All I saw was the stretcher going into the ambulance. They slammed the doors and left. Story of my life really, I think I must have been born late.”
“Oh. Well, someone must know. Thanks, Mr. Wilkins – be seeing you.”
“Yes, you will. Goodbye, young John.”
Down in the town area, he went first to the bike shop, because it was furtherest away, and then back to the chemist's. No-one he spoke to could tell him any more about the accident than what he already knew. Which was not a lot.
He couldn't believe how blithely uninterested everyone was. If it didn't affect them personally, they didn't care much. That was SO not right – the Heartless Buggers!
He didn't know how affected he was, but he was worried. If it was a kid, then, chances were, it was somebody from the school. Damm, he hoped it wasn't Jordan.
It wasn't Jordan. Lost in thought, he came out of the chemist shop and literally walked into him.
“Oops, sorry. Jordan! Oh thank God it's you. You okay, Boy?”
“I think I'll live,” Jordan grinned up at him, peering through his over-long fringe. “You didn't hit me that hard. But why are you glad that it's me you banged into?”
“No. I'm not glad about that. I'm just happy to see you.”
“Aren't you always?”
“Not always, no, but sometimes.”
“Why now then?”
“There was an accident, up by the roundabout. A kid was hurt, I was worried that it was you.”
“Well it wasn't. It was Gordie Berry. He's a bit of a mess, but he'll live. Why would you think it was me, Mr. E?”
“Ask yourself, Jordan. Why would I be worried that you'd been hurt when you'd just gone racing past me, sitting on a scooter and being towed by a bike?”
“I don't know. Why?”
“Why? Because it was a bloody silly thing to do and dangerous too!”
“Dangerous? Yeah, I guess. It was fun though, fun and fast. Trouble is, bloody Gene's gone now and he took my scooter with him. Swine! Now I've gotta walk all the way back home. Unless some kind teacher is going to give me a ride?”
“A kind teacher. Is there such a creature?”
“Come to think of it, probably not.”
“Don't flash your big calf's eyes at me, Boy. That won't work. I'd give you a ride home if I could, but I'm walking too.”
“Walking back home now, Mr. E? Okay, I'll walk with you. We live in the same street.”
“I know that. You're just 3 doors past ours.”
“Yeah. Way too close, I think.”
“Enough cheek out of you! Jordan, don't go riding your scooter like that again. That could just as easily have been you being scraped off the road. At the speed you were going, it could've even killed you.”
“You think? Okay, we won't do that again. Next time, I'll make Gene bloody slow down. I'll throw out an anchor or something.”
“Next time? I hope there is no next time.”
“Ah! Live in hope, don't you, Mr. E?”
They walked together, back up the road and to the side-street where their homes were, chatting, laughing and growling all the way. John was thinking how much he liked this kid. It wasn't that many years ago that he was a teen himself and he still knew something of their world. Jordan, once you got past the cheek, was a thoroughly nice kid and easy to have an almost-adult conversation with.
They'd just rounded the corner into their street when a big, rough, old van, pulsing the usual crappy music that all the boy-racers played, pulled in next to them. It was an ominous, evil-looking thing, painted black and with black windows.
John thought, 'Who'd drive something like that, and why?'
Jordan obviously knew and he was delighted. “Bomber!” he exclaimed. “See ya, Mr. E. I've got a ride home now!”
“But you only live 6 doors up the street.”
“Yeah, I know. But it's Bomber and the Sex Machine! Total coolness. See ya.” He jumped into the passenger's side.
The door slammed, the van took off with a roar and a squeal of tyres, and disappeared around the corner up the street.
'Bomber? Sex Machine?' John smiled ruefully, shook his head and went home.
He stepped over the front gate and Peter was sitting on the steps outside the house, “fixing” his bike, as usual. He'd be better off if he'd just leave the bloody thing alone and stop tinkering with it.
“Peter, who is Bomber, do y'know? He drives a big black van. Jordan Houston just jumped in and went off with him.”
“In the Sex Machine?” Peter grinned. “Lucky Midget!”
“You shouldn't call him that. You know he doesn't like it.”
“Doesn't like it? He hates it; that's what makes it fun!”
“Don't do it anyway. Should I be concerned about him going off like that?”
“Nah. He'll be all right. Might even get lucky!”
“Peter! Who is this 'Bomber' guy?”
“It's not a guy – Bomber's a girl.”
“Really? Bomber is a girl, driving around in the Sex Machine?”
“Yeah. You can stop worrying, Bro. Bomber is okay. She's all talk really. She only comes back here to see Dave Fortune. The Mid . .. okay, Jordan, is just a friend. No-one's going to molest him. Eww. That'd be like doing a little kid!”
“Oh. Just a friend then. That's good. Thanks, Peter.” He brushed past him and went inside.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Brownsville Tales - Robin, 5
(Could be called 'Robin's End' - last one for now).
They all soon settled into a new and comfortable routine. Robin and Darren were constantly together at home, both day and night. At first, they stuck with their own separate lives when at school and around town. Robin was much more into team sports than Darren was and he wasn't at all interested in his more geeky pursuits – Drama Society, Chess Club, etc.
However, as time went on and they helped and trained with each other, they both began to take more of an interest in the other's world, and they were together even more.
When the time came and Debbie had to stop working at the Pre-school, she was at home all day and everyday. Robin's domestic dreams came true then – the house was always warm when they arrived home and usually full of delicious smell's from Deb's baking and cooking. He liked having an at-home mother. They both did.
A few too few months after the wedding, their baby sister was born and the very proud big brothers were delighted. It was love at first sight, and they both doted on her. The baby was named 'Eloise', after the old song, but she was soon dubbed, 'Else' and was never called anything else.
A couple of years went by. The adults didn't change much, but the kids did – a lot. They all grew and the boys developed into strong, happy and healthy teenagers. They were ever more comfortable with each other, both in bed and out of it. (They had a LOT of practice).
They were both doing better in school than they ever had before.
The boys were delighted, once again, when the parents told them that another baby was on the way.
Robin and Darren talked it over, and then they told their parents that they thought that they should invest in an old caravan. Parked-up close to the back-door and plugged in to the house power supply, it would make a good new bedroom for them.
Else could move into their old room and the new baby could take her place in the parents' bedroom. Deb said that that was a great idea and very unselfish of them too. (It wasn't really. They'd have more privacy in a caravan and they could still share the same bed – they'd thought of that).
Bryan said, “Well, it's not a bad idea really. There's not much point in adding more rooms to this old place. That would cost a fortune and you two won't be here for that many more years.
A caravan sounds good. We'll think about it.”
“Think hard, Dad,” Robin replied.
“Yeah, Dad. Think real hard,” Darren agreed.
However, the caravan never happened. Bryan arrived home one day and announced that there'd been a change of plans. He was going to sell the Ranch and they were moving. Once again, he was going to ruin Robin's comfortable life. Darren's too. They were horrified, but they had no say and no choice – they were only 14, almost 15, years old. Dammit.
“Where are we moving to?”
“To Brownsville. I've been offered a job in the mine there and I'm taking it.”
“What's wrong with the job you've got now? You like working for Rick, don't you?”
“I do, but the job is not going to be there for much longer. Rick is retiring and shutting the mine down. It's all-but worked out anyway.”
“So your job won't be there any more. But why Brownsville? It's a horrible place, a crap town. If we've got to move, there must be somewhere better than Brownsville. Anywhere would be better than there.”
“I've got to work, Rob. We need the income to live and coalmining is what I know. I'm good at it and it pays well too. There aren't many underground mines still operating and Brownsville has one of the few. So that's where we are going.”
Darren had to object as well, this affected him too. “Dad, we can't live in Brownsville, it's an awful place. In the winter, it's even colder there than it is here – and that's saying a lot! Everytime we go there and get out of the car, that wind cuts through you like a knife.”
“Can't argue with that. But the wind is only around the business area near the river. When you get back away from there, it's a different climate altogether. It's quite mild really, they don't have frosts because they're near the sea.”
“If you say so. Still a horrible town though.”
Debbie said, “It's nice to see that the old West Coast parochialism is alive and well in the younger generation. Any place is what you make it, Boys. Once you make some new friends there, you'll like it too. Wait and see.”
“I'd rather not. I like the friends we've got now,” Robin grumbled. “Anyhow, how are you ever going to sell this place? We like it because it's the Ranch and it's our home, but it's rubbishy land really and a little old house. Who'd want it?”
“The Morris Mining Company want it. They've made several offers before, but I've always turned them down They guarantee that they'll buy it anytime we want to sell, and now we do. They want to put a gold-dredging operation through here. It's one of the few bits of land that has never been properly worked over before.”
“If there's gold out there, Dad, couldn't you do it yourself? They'll only be wanting to mine it to make a profit from it.”
“Of course they do. Fair enough too. Rob, I can't do it. It's not my sort of mining and we don't have the equipment or the money to buy it.”
“Oh. So we have to move to Brownsville?”
“Yes.”
Darren said, “If they just want to dig up the land, could we take the house with us?”
“This old place?” Bryan smiled. “It'd fall to bits before we got there. Don't worry. With the money we get from selling the Ranch, we'll buy a house in Brownsville – somewhere a lot bigger and better than what we've got now.”
“It might be bigger but it won't be better. This is our home!”
“Was our home. People move all the time, Rob. You'll get over it.”
“Doubt it. Anyway, I don't care how big the house you get is, Darren and I are still going to share a room. You're NOT taking that away from us.”
“Let's wait and see what house we get,” Debbie said. “Don't you boys think you're getting a bit big to be sleeping together?”
“No, Mum, we do not!” Darren stressed. “We're sharing a room or we're not coming – it's that simple.”
Bryan said, “And how would you do that? You're not adults yet and you're not in a position to support yourselves.”
“Oh, we've got a plan.”
“Now come on!” Debbie objected. “You're all starting to get a bit silly and it's time it stopped. No-one wants to see our family broken-up. Boys, we are all moving to Brownsville. Bryan, they will be sharing a room, like they've always done. As long as they're happy doing that, they can keep on doing it. No more arguments! Let's talk about something else.”
Robin said, “I just want to say one more thing.”
Bryan said, “Your mother said no more arguments.”
“I'm not arguing. I want to say – when Dad told me that he was getting married and I was getting a new mother and brother, I was not impressed and I didn't want him to do it. Now, I'm glad he didn't listen to me. Debbie, you're a brilliant mother!”
“Oh, Sweetheart! Thank you. You're not so bad yourself you know.”
“Yeah, well. Well, maybe this shifting won't be so bad – maybe. We'll see.”
“We will,” said Bryan. “Now what's for dinner?”
The move happened quickly. Robin and Darren suspected that it was like that so they have no time to object. The agreement to purchase was signed by Jack Morris of Morris Mining, the day after Bryan had dropped the news on them.
That night, they all sat around the computer and checked-out houses for sale, in and around Brownsville. With the money from the Ranch, they could afford to buy the best of them, but what they really wanted was a house that suited everybody – and definitely not by the river in the middle of the town!
They tagged several of the ones they liked the look of and, on Saturday, they went down to Brownsville to have a proper look at them. The first one they went to was the last one.
Perched up on a hilltop, at the south end of the town, well away from the cold winds by the river, It didn't look very promising at first. The long and narrow, steep, rough and gravelled, wound up through dense native bush above Weimar Road. It was like being out in the country, far away from any towns.
When they came to the top, there was a rough, overgrown, paddock on one side of the road – 2 hectares according to the website. They drove down the concrete driveway on the right, to park next to and below the house.
The house was up two short flights of wooden stairs and there were garages and other spaces on the ground floor which was, basically, built of concrete blocks, badly in need of cleaning and painting. One of the garage doors was crumpled and hanging off the rollers. It would obviously never close again.
The house up top was clad with rough-stained timber walls with a lot of big windows and it was surrounded on 2 sides by a wide wooden deck. It was not an old house, it was a reasonably modern style, but it was all a bit rough. It hadn't been well looked-after and there was a lot of rubbish lying around. It didn't look at all promising, until they went up the stairs and on to the deck at the front.
“Wow! What a view – it's glorious!”
They all stood looking down. Even Else, who was sitting on Robin's shoulders, was entranced. There wasn't much of the town visible, apart from the main road south, most of it was hidden behind the treetops which framed the view. There was the sea, the rivermouth and port and the bush-clad coastline all the way up to the headland in the distance, all shining in the sunshine.
“All right,” said Bryan. “So far, so good. Now let's see what else there is.” He knocked on the ranch-slider, glass door and the little old lady in there came out to show them around.
They all went inside, into the huge open-plan kitchen/dining/living-room area, which took up half of the entire floor area of the house. The laundry – washing machine and dryer – was incorporated into the kitchen and 4 bedrooms all opened off the hallway on the right.
The Master bedroom was at the front, with its own en-suite bathroom and a ranch slider out to the front deck. The two bedrooms behind that shared another en-suite and the 4th one, at the back, had none, (but it had a nice view).
All of the carpet would need replacing, it was old, stained, faded and worn. The ceilings were low, the windows were big and there was plenty of them. It was all a bit old and rough, but it was a well-designed house and full of sunshine.
“Not too bad,” was Bryan's verdict. “It needs work, but it could be a really nice home.”
“It IS a nice home,” said Debbie. “I like it.”
“I like it too,” said the old lady. “We lived here for years. It was a good place to raise our family, but they've all grown and moved away now. Since my husband died it has all got a bit too much for me.”
“I don't know,” said Darren. “Which bedroom would we have?”
The old lady smiled. “Go down the stairs in the hallway and you'll find another bedroom down there. I think you might like that one. My boys did.”
“Let's check it out, Bro.” Robin went down the stairs and Darren followed.
They were back, all excited, in a couple of minutes.
“Dad, Mum, This is the house! This is where we want to live. Nowhere else.”
“You've got to buy it, Dad. Please!”
“You have to, Dad. You have to buy this one.”
“What on earth did you two find down there? A diamond mine?” Debbie smiled at their excitement.
“Even better!”
“Come and see.”
They ran back down and the parents followed them At the bottom of the stairs, there was another short hallway which led to an outside door. To the left, doors opened into the garages at the end by the drive. To the right, there were several storage rooms, the back of which must've been dug into the hillside.
Around and behind the stairs, there was another door and there was a huge room through there. More than just a room, it was a whole self-contained apartment with its own kitchen, bathroom and shower as well as the huge bed/living room area along the front wall.
A breakfast bar divided off the kitchen area and another bar/counter along the back wall had a big entertainment area behind it – two big television screens, an old and large stereo set-up and shelves full of CD's, DVD's, books and room for anything else they wanted.
“Wow!” said Debbie. “This is great. What a gorgeous room.”
“It is,” Bryan said. “A very nice room. I think we should have it ourselves, Deb.”
“Dad, no!”
“You can't, Dad. You can have the master bedroom up top, that's near the babies'. This is perfect for us.”
“For you? Nah, it's be wasted on you.”
“No it wouldn't! It's what we need, exactly what we need. Dad, Pleeeease!” Robin, with a big cheesy grin, knelt and lifted his hands like he was praying.
Debbie said, “Bryan, you can't take this away from them. This'd be the ideal place for growing boys. They'd still be living with us, but they'd have their own space too, so we're not all falling over each other.”
“You might be right,” Bryan replied. He grinned at the boys and said, “Just kidding, Boys. This will be your room.”
He turned to the old lady and said, “Mrs. Minehan, we'll take it. You've just sold your house and we've got a new home for our family.”
“What a relief!” she smiled. “That's wonderful. But, don't you want to dicker? The Real-Estate Agent said that people would try to get a lower price because there is a lot of work to be done.”
“We don't want a lower price, Mrs. Minehan. We want this house, just as it is, and we want it now. We'll go down to the Estate Agent's office and we'll buy your house – now. Today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hedges. Thank you very much! I hope you will be as happy here as we were with our family.”
Bryan looked at the smiling faces surrounding him, grinned himself and said, “I think we will be. In fact, I'm sure we will.”
They smiled all the way home and, as soon as they arrived, the boys started packing.
It didn't happen overnight, there was a lot to be done and it took 2 weeks. But, by then the school holidays had started, which was very handy. The truck arrived and was loaded.
They left, with just a brief, wistful, look back, and they moved to Brownsville, to their new home on the hill.
Bryan had a couple of weeks before he started his new job and the boys had no school to go to, but they weren't exactly on holiday. He had them busy, all day every day. They didn't even get a chance to look around the town, except when passing through on trips to the rubbish dump or to get supplies.
They cleared up all the rubbish lying around, both inside and out, and took load after load of it away. The next priority was to rebuild the fence around the outside of the decks and to put a gate at the top of the stairs, so that Else could go outside to play there.
Using long-handled rollers, they painted all of the ceilings throughout the house and stripped off the wallpaper ready for repapering. Carpet-Layers arrived to replace the carpets, and they had to help them too.
Their physical fitness program was on hold, but they figured they didn't need it anyway, they were working hard. They didn't even get a break when Bryan went off to work. He left them lists of things to be done, mostly painting preparation, which was a bugger of a job.
It was all work and no play, but there were some compensations. They were working together, they were getting paid for it and it was going to be a grouse house by the time they were finished.
On the Friday before school started, there was a registration day at the Highschool, and their mum took them down there to sign up.
The office lady signed them up and gave them books of instructions and maps of the school etc. She told them to report to Room 4, for Geography on the first period on Monday, and gave them an introductory note for the teacher.
They then went downtown and purchased books, stationary and uniforms. Darren had grown a lot in the last two years, but he was still smaller than Robin and probably always would be.
Monday morning, they were dropped off at school and they joined the mob waiting outside Room 4. Well, stood near them and endured their suspicious stares really. No-one spoke to them – snobby lot!
The teacher arrived, long after every other class had gone in. Everyone rushed inside after him and Robin and Darren followed them all.
They decided not to bother the teacher, it was already late, he didn't look happy, and they didn't want to get yelled at on the first day. So, they sat together in seats in the back row.
Mr. Erickson stood up, the kids settled down and shut up and their new life in their new school began.
They all soon settled into a new and comfortable routine. Robin and Darren were constantly together at home, both day and night. At first, they stuck with their own separate lives when at school and around town. Robin was much more into team sports than Darren was and he wasn't at all interested in his more geeky pursuits – Drama Society, Chess Club, etc.
However, as time went on and they helped and trained with each other, they both began to take more of an interest in the other's world, and they were together even more.
When the time came and Debbie had to stop working at the Pre-school, she was at home all day and everyday. Robin's domestic dreams came true then – the house was always warm when they arrived home and usually full of delicious smell's from Deb's baking and cooking. He liked having an at-home mother. They both did.
A few too few months after the wedding, their baby sister was born and the very proud big brothers were delighted. It was love at first sight, and they both doted on her. The baby was named 'Eloise', after the old song, but she was soon dubbed, 'Else' and was never called anything else.
A couple of years went by. The adults didn't change much, but the kids did – a lot. They all grew and the boys developed into strong, happy and healthy teenagers. They were ever more comfortable with each other, both in bed and out of it. (They had a LOT of practice).
They were both doing better in school than they ever had before.
The boys were delighted, once again, when the parents told them that another baby was on the way.
Robin and Darren talked it over, and then they told their parents that they thought that they should invest in an old caravan. Parked-up close to the back-door and plugged in to the house power supply, it would make a good new bedroom for them.
Else could move into their old room and the new baby could take her place in the parents' bedroom. Deb said that that was a great idea and very unselfish of them too. (It wasn't really. They'd have more privacy in a caravan and they could still share the same bed – they'd thought of that).
Bryan said, “Well, it's not a bad idea really. There's not much point in adding more rooms to this old place. That would cost a fortune and you two won't be here for that many more years.
A caravan sounds good. We'll think about it.”
“Think hard, Dad,” Robin replied.
“Yeah, Dad. Think real hard,” Darren agreed.
However, the caravan never happened. Bryan arrived home one day and announced that there'd been a change of plans. He was going to sell the Ranch and they were moving. Once again, he was going to ruin Robin's comfortable life. Darren's too. They were horrified, but they had no say and no choice – they were only 14, almost 15, years old. Dammit.
“Where are we moving to?”
“To Brownsville. I've been offered a job in the mine there and I'm taking it.”
“What's wrong with the job you've got now? You like working for Rick, don't you?”
“I do, but the job is not going to be there for much longer. Rick is retiring and shutting the mine down. It's all-but worked out anyway.”
“So your job won't be there any more. But why Brownsville? It's a horrible place, a crap town. If we've got to move, there must be somewhere better than Brownsville. Anywhere would be better than there.”
“I've got to work, Rob. We need the income to live and coalmining is what I know. I'm good at it and it pays well too. There aren't many underground mines still operating and Brownsville has one of the few. So that's where we are going.”
Darren had to object as well, this affected him too. “Dad, we can't live in Brownsville, it's an awful place. In the winter, it's even colder there than it is here – and that's saying a lot! Everytime we go there and get out of the car, that wind cuts through you like a knife.”
“Can't argue with that. But the wind is only around the business area near the river. When you get back away from there, it's a different climate altogether. It's quite mild really, they don't have frosts because they're near the sea.”
“If you say so. Still a horrible town though.”
Debbie said, “It's nice to see that the old West Coast parochialism is alive and well in the younger generation. Any place is what you make it, Boys. Once you make some new friends there, you'll like it too. Wait and see.”
“I'd rather not. I like the friends we've got now,” Robin grumbled. “Anyhow, how are you ever going to sell this place? We like it because it's the Ranch and it's our home, but it's rubbishy land really and a little old house. Who'd want it?”
“The Morris Mining Company want it. They've made several offers before, but I've always turned them down They guarantee that they'll buy it anytime we want to sell, and now we do. They want to put a gold-dredging operation through here. It's one of the few bits of land that has never been properly worked over before.”
“If there's gold out there, Dad, couldn't you do it yourself? They'll only be wanting to mine it to make a profit from it.”
“Of course they do. Fair enough too. Rob, I can't do it. It's not my sort of mining and we don't have the equipment or the money to buy it.”
“Oh. So we have to move to Brownsville?”
“Yes.”
Darren said, “If they just want to dig up the land, could we take the house with us?”
“This old place?” Bryan smiled. “It'd fall to bits before we got there. Don't worry. With the money we get from selling the Ranch, we'll buy a house in Brownsville – somewhere a lot bigger and better than what we've got now.”
“It might be bigger but it won't be better. This is our home!”
“Was our home. People move all the time, Rob. You'll get over it.”
“Doubt it. Anyway, I don't care how big the house you get is, Darren and I are still going to share a room. You're NOT taking that away from us.”
“Let's wait and see what house we get,” Debbie said. “Don't you boys think you're getting a bit big to be sleeping together?”
“No, Mum, we do not!” Darren stressed. “We're sharing a room or we're not coming – it's that simple.”
Bryan said, “And how would you do that? You're not adults yet and you're not in a position to support yourselves.”
“Oh, we've got a plan.”
“Now come on!” Debbie objected. “You're all starting to get a bit silly and it's time it stopped. No-one wants to see our family broken-up. Boys, we are all moving to Brownsville. Bryan, they will be sharing a room, like they've always done. As long as they're happy doing that, they can keep on doing it. No more arguments! Let's talk about something else.”
Robin said, “I just want to say one more thing.”
Bryan said, “Your mother said no more arguments.”
“I'm not arguing. I want to say – when Dad told me that he was getting married and I was getting a new mother and brother, I was not impressed and I didn't want him to do it. Now, I'm glad he didn't listen to me. Debbie, you're a brilliant mother!”
“Oh, Sweetheart! Thank you. You're not so bad yourself you know.”
“Yeah, well. Well, maybe this shifting won't be so bad – maybe. We'll see.”
“We will,” said Bryan. “Now what's for dinner?”
The move happened quickly. Robin and Darren suspected that it was like that so they have no time to object. The agreement to purchase was signed by Jack Morris of Morris Mining, the day after Bryan had dropped the news on them.
That night, they all sat around the computer and checked-out houses for sale, in and around Brownsville. With the money from the Ranch, they could afford to buy the best of them, but what they really wanted was a house that suited everybody – and definitely not by the river in the middle of the town!
They tagged several of the ones they liked the look of and, on Saturday, they went down to Brownsville to have a proper look at them. The first one they went to was the last one.
Perched up on a hilltop, at the south end of the town, well away from the cold winds by the river, It didn't look very promising at first. The long and narrow, steep, rough and gravelled, wound up through dense native bush above Weimar Road. It was like being out in the country, far away from any towns.
When they came to the top, there was a rough, overgrown, paddock on one side of the road – 2 hectares according to the website. They drove down the concrete driveway on the right, to park next to and below the house.
The house was up two short flights of wooden stairs and there were garages and other spaces on the ground floor which was, basically, built of concrete blocks, badly in need of cleaning and painting. One of the garage doors was crumpled and hanging off the rollers. It would obviously never close again.
The house up top was clad with rough-stained timber walls with a lot of big windows and it was surrounded on 2 sides by a wide wooden deck. It was not an old house, it was a reasonably modern style, but it was all a bit rough. It hadn't been well looked-after and there was a lot of rubbish lying around. It didn't look at all promising, until they went up the stairs and on to the deck at the front.
“Wow! What a view – it's glorious!”
They all stood looking down. Even Else, who was sitting on Robin's shoulders, was entranced. There wasn't much of the town visible, apart from the main road south, most of it was hidden behind the treetops which framed the view. There was the sea, the rivermouth and port and the bush-clad coastline all the way up to the headland in the distance, all shining in the sunshine.
“All right,” said Bryan. “So far, so good. Now let's see what else there is.” He knocked on the ranch-slider, glass door and the little old lady in there came out to show them around.
They all went inside, into the huge open-plan kitchen/dining/living-room area, which took up half of the entire floor area of the house. The laundry – washing machine and dryer – was incorporated into the kitchen and 4 bedrooms all opened off the hallway on the right.
The Master bedroom was at the front, with its own en-suite bathroom and a ranch slider out to the front deck. The two bedrooms behind that shared another en-suite and the 4th one, at the back, had none, (but it had a nice view).
All of the carpet would need replacing, it was old, stained, faded and worn. The ceilings were low, the windows were big and there was plenty of them. It was all a bit old and rough, but it was a well-designed house and full of sunshine.
“Not too bad,” was Bryan's verdict. “It needs work, but it could be a really nice home.”
“It IS a nice home,” said Debbie. “I like it.”
“I like it too,” said the old lady. “We lived here for years. It was a good place to raise our family, but they've all grown and moved away now. Since my husband died it has all got a bit too much for me.”
“I don't know,” said Darren. “Which bedroom would we have?”
The old lady smiled. “Go down the stairs in the hallway and you'll find another bedroom down there. I think you might like that one. My boys did.”
“Let's check it out, Bro.” Robin went down the stairs and Darren followed.
They were back, all excited, in a couple of minutes.
“Dad, Mum, This is the house! This is where we want to live. Nowhere else.”
“You've got to buy it, Dad. Please!”
“You have to, Dad. You have to buy this one.”
“What on earth did you two find down there? A diamond mine?” Debbie smiled at their excitement.
“Even better!”
“Come and see.”
They ran back down and the parents followed them At the bottom of the stairs, there was another short hallway which led to an outside door. To the left, doors opened into the garages at the end by the drive. To the right, there were several storage rooms, the back of which must've been dug into the hillside.
Around and behind the stairs, there was another door and there was a huge room through there. More than just a room, it was a whole self-contained apartment with its own kitchen, bathroom and shower as well as the huge bed/living room area along the front wall.
A breakfast bar divided off the kitchen area and another bar/counter along the back wall had a big entertainment area behind it – two big television screens, an old and large stereo set-up and shelves full of CD's, DVD's, books and room for anything else they wanted.
“Wow!” said Debbie. “This is great. What a gorgeous room.”
“It is,” Bryan said. “A very nice room. I think we should have it ourselves, Deb.”
“Dad, no!”
“You can't, Dad. You can have the master bedroom up top, that's near the babies'. This is perfect for us.”
“For you? Nah, it's be wasted on you.”
“No it wouldn't! It's what we need, exactly what we need. Dad, Pleeeease!” Robin, with a big cheesy grin, knelt and lifted his hands like he was praying.
Debbie said, “Bryan, you can't take this away from them. This'd be the ideal place for growing boys. They'd still be living with us, but they'd have their own space too, so we're not all falling over each other.”
“You might be right,” Bryan replied. He grinned at the boys and said, “Just kidding, Boys. This will be your room.”
He turned to the old lady and said, “Mrs. Minehan, we'll take it. You've just sold your house and we've got a new home for our family.”
“What a relief!” she smiled. “That's wonderful. But, don't you want to dicker? The Real-Estate Agent said that people would try to get a lower price because there is a lot of work to be done.”
“We don't want a lower price, Mrs. Minehan. We want this house, just as it is, and we want it now. We'll go down to the Estate Agent's office and we'll buy your house – now. Today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hedges. Thank you very much! I hope you will be as happy here as we were with our family.”
Bryan looked at the smiling faces surrounding him, grinned himself and said, “I think we will be. In fact, I'm sure we will.”
They smiled all the way home and, as soon as they arrived, the boys started packing.
It didn't happen overnight, there was a lot to be done and it took 2 weeks. But, by then the school holidays had started, which was very handy. The truck arrived and was loaded.
They left, with just a brief, wistful, look back, and they moved to Brownsville, to their new home on the hill.
Bryan had a couple of weeks before he started his new job and the boys had no school to go to, but they weren't exactly on holiday. He had them busy, all day every day. They didn't even get a chance to look around the town, except when passing through on trips to the rubbish dump or to get supplies.
They cleared up all the rubbish lying around, both inside and out, and took load after load of it away. The next priority was to rebuild the fence around the outside of the decks and to put a gate at the top of the stairs, so that Else could go outside to play there.
Using long-handled rollers, they painted all of the ceilings throughout the house and stripped off the wallpaper ready for repapering. Carpet-Layers arrived to replace the carpets, and they had to help them too.
Their physical fitness program was on hold, but they figured they didn't need it anyway, they were working hard. They didn't even get a break when Bryan went off to work. He left them lists of things to be done, mostly painting preparation, which was a bugger of a job.
It was all work and no play, but there were some compensations. They were working together, they were getting paid for it and it was going to be a grouse house by the time they were finished.
On the Friday before school started, there was a registration day at the Highschool, and their mum took them down there to sign up.
The office lady signed them up and gave them books of instructions and maps of the school etc. She told them to report to Room 4, for Geography on the first period on Monday, and gave them an introductory note for the teacher.
They then went downtown and purchased books, stationary and uniforms. Darren had grown a lot in the last two years, but he was still smaller than Robin and probably always would be.
Monday morning, they were dropped off at school and they joined the mob waiting outside Room 4. Well, stood near them and endured their suspicious stares really. No-one spoke to them – snobby lot!
The teacher arrived, long after every other class had gone in. Everyone rushed inside after him and Robin and Darren followed them all.
They decided not to bother the teacher, it was already late, he didn't look happy, and they didn't want to get yelled at on the first day. So, they sat together in seats in the back row.
Mr. Erickson stood up, the kids settled down and shut up and their new life in their new school began.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Brownsville Tales - Robin, 4
(Really must put some pretty pics in here!)
Darren hauled his pants up and they went back, off the concrete foundations and on to the leaf-covered hillside under the densely-packed trees.
The ground in there was wet, small patches still had white frost on them and there were icicles around where water was trickling down the hill.
“Maybe this wasn't such a good idea,” Robin looked around. “I'm not sitting my bare bum down on any of that!”
“You don't have to sit down.” Darren dropped his pants again, displaying his now fully-erect dick. “We're just checking-out the equipment here and we can stand up to do that. Come on then, are you going to show me or are you going to get all shy?”
“I'm not shy.” Robin unzipped his jean and pushed them down to his knees, exposing his own throbbing erection.
“Oh, wow. Now that's nice,” Darren grinned. “That's very nice. Big too. I knew you would be.”
“Yeah, well. I don't think it's bigger than yours though. Maybe a bit longer?”
“You think so? Let's measure them.” Darren shuffled forward and pressed his dick against Robin's.
Darren shuffled forward and pushed his dick up against Robin's. Robin was taller, but by spreading his legs well apart, they stood at the same level and both could feel the pulsing in the warm flesh pressed against them
“Oh, yeah!” Darren looked down. “They're just about the same, I think.”
“Looks like it, yes.” Robin pulled back, looked into Darren's eyes, and then he reached out and wrapped his fingers around his dick. “You're big and you've got a great dick.”
He ran his hand up and down, softly and gently, grinning at the quivering. “Do you wank yet?”
“Doesn't everyone? I don't do it all of the time.”
“No? When do you then?”
“Only on days ending with a 'y',” Darren grinned.
“Yeah? Me too!” Robin grinned back. “So, are you up for doing it together?”
Darren ran his fingertips from under Robin's balls, up to the top of the shaft, then down again, wrapping his hand around him and pumping a couple of times. “I think we're both very up for it. Don't you?”
“Sure looks like it!”
They stood facing each other, each with one hand roaming around the other's body and pumping on his shaft until they both came together, squirting semen on each other's bellies.
“Hot damm! That was so good. I think maybe I can live out here after all.”
“You do? That's good, I guess.”
“I guess so too. You said that we might be sharing a room. I think I'd like that if we can do more of this.”
“More wanking? I'd like to do much more of that!”
“Yeah, and much more than that too.”
“More?” Robin frowned. “Oh. You mean all the way sex?”
“Yep. All the way, fucking and everything. If I've got to live all of the way out here, I want something good to make up for it.”
“We can find lots of good stuff to do!”
“Great. We will then, and it'll be better in a bed. We should be getting back to the house now.”
“Yeah, suppose so. We don't want them coming out and finding us here like this.”
“We surely don't! Let's get moving then.”
They cleaned-up, as best as they could, put their clothes back together and started walking back to the house, both walking along quietly and thinking their own thoughts.
Darren said, “Have you done it before? Sex, I mean.”
“I've felt-up a couple of people – one girl, one boy. That's all. How much have you done?”
“Less than you. I've never even seen anyone naked before, not really. I've read a lot, on the internet, but I've never done anything. Now I want to try it out.”
“And you want to try it with me. I thought you didn't like me?”
“I thought I didn't, but I didn't know you. Now, maybe I could learn to like you.”
“Yeah? Maybe I could learn to too.”
“Okay. If it doesn't work out, I'm still going to see if my grandparents will let me live with them.”
“Where do they live?”
“At Paraparaumu – north of Wellington.”
“No way!”
“Yes, they do.”
“But my grandparents live there too!”
“No!”
“Yes. They're by the beach, where do yours live?”
“Not by the beach, they're not that rich. They live further back, near the railway station. It's a big town.”
“It's a small country! But, yeah, it is a big town.”
“It is. Bigger than ours anyway. Tell you what, if you do decide to run away, let me know and I'll come with you. Shooting through to the grandparents' was my plan too.”
“It was?” Darren grinned. “Okay. If we run away from each other, we'll run away together.”
“That's a plan,” Robin laughed. “I think we're a lot more alike than we thought we were.”
“Yeah, we are. Plus – I like your dick.”
“I like yours too, a lot. We can be friends and help each other.”
“Possibly. As long as we get each other off, I'll be happy.”
“Me too! Actually, you're a lot smarter than me. I'm thinking, maybe you can help me out with schoolwork and stuff.”
“Could do. Maybe you can help me too. You're bigger, fitter and stronger than I am. I'd like to bulk-up a bit so the friggin' bullies will stop picking on me.”
“I stopped them, the other day, and you told me off for it.”
“That's different. I want to get so that I can look after myself. Are you going to help me?”
“I am. We'll help each other, that'll be a fair trade-off.”
“Cool. And, what happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom.”
“Of course it does. It'll be good exercise too.”
Robin felt that he should be showing the Kid that he wasn't totally ignorant. He was supposed to be showing him around the Ranch. “That creek across the valley there, coming down from the hills, that's Lanky's Creek.”
“Yea,” Darren nodded. “Lanky's Creek, named after a tall, skinny, gold-fossicker. I've been up there, searching for fossils.”
“So have I! There's heaps of them up there – Devonian Era, limestone fossils.”
“That's them. They prove that this whole area was under the sea once.”
“Really? The sea is bloody miles away! A couple of hours, almost.”
“It is now, but it wasn't away back then. New Zealand is the youngest country in the world and it's still rising up out of the sea. The Southern Alps are growing at about 10 millimeters a year – that's why we have earthquakes.”
“Bloody earthquakes! But, if it's growing, we might be bigger than Aussie one day.”
“Maybe. It'd take one hell of a long time though; you and I won't be around to see it.”
“Probably not. You hungry?”
“Do fish crap in the water? Of course I'm hungry, it's been a couple of hours!”
“Yeah. Let's go eat.”
There was no-one there when they got back to the house, so they micro-waved a couple of frozen pies and made a sandwich each while they were waiting. They were sitting by the fire, eating, when the parents came back in.
Debbie said, Well! Don't you two look cosy, sitting there?”
“Yeah, it's all good, Mum,” Darren replied. “Where've you been?”
“Just walking around. Bryan was showing me the sheds and garages. I'll need somewhere to keep my car out of the weather. How do you think you'll like living out here, Son?”
“Oh,” Darren glanced at Robin and they exchanged a smile. “I think I'll like it fine.”
Bryan said, “That's good. You think you'll be able to get along with this big lug here, do you?”
They smiled again and Darren said, “I do. I think I'll be able to knock him into shape.”
“Hey!” Robin protested. “I'll knock you into shape.”
“That's the plan, innit?”
“Well, I'm really pleased,” Debbie said. “It's good that you're getting along. You're going to be step-brothers.”
“We're going to be brothers,” Robin nodded.
“And you're happy to share a room?”
“We are,” Darren replied.
Robin said, “Yeah, Dad. We can do it. The only other choice is for me to share with you and Darren with Debbie, and we're not doing that.”
“We are not!” Bryan and Debbie agreed.
The parents were married a couple of weeks later, on a Thursday afternoon, in a small and intimate ceremony in the Anglican church. Robin, looking very cute in a suit, was his father's Best Man and Darren 'gave his mother away'.
The boys were too young to sign the marriage register, so adult friends had to do that for them. The whole party ate at the town's flashest restaurant, in the Hotel Riverston, and then the bride and groom went away for a long-weekend honeymoon in Hanmer.
On the way out, they dropped Robin and Darren off at the Ranch. They really should not have been left alone with no adult supervision, but – whatever. They promised not to burn the house down, and they didn't.
No-one said anything, but they all knew that nobody would be going to school on Friday.
The parents went off and left them, and the boys stayed home and had a honeymoon of their own. It was grouse! Also, choice, Also, very busy. They were both sore and exhausted by Sunday.
Mr. and Mrs. Hedges returned on Sunday evening and they all went off to school and work next morning. Debbie took Darren in her car and Robin went on the bus, as usual. She offered to take him in to town as well, but Robin said no, he'd go on the bus. He liked the bus and wanted to keep riding it.
Darren would have to travel with him soon, when Debbie's pregnancy got so far advanced that she had to stop work for a year or two. (“'Stop work' Oh, yes? Stopping work to carry bricks, I think.”)
Bryan was already at home when they all returned after school. “Robin, what is Debbie's bed doing in your room?”
“We moved it in there. That's okay, isn't it? It was only sitting out in the barn where the rats will eat into it. It's safer in the house.”
“I suppose it will be,” Debbie shuddered. “We're not using it, but it's a Queen-size bed. Are you sure that there's enough space for it in your room?”
“There's plenty of room now,” Darren said. “We threw the other beds out and they're in the barn.”
“So you're both going to sleep in the same bed. How's that going to work?”
“It'll work fine, Dad. We like it like that. One bed means more free floor space and we can keep each other warm. You won't let me have a heater and it's friggin' freezing in there sometimes.”
“Well . . okay then. We'll see how it goes. You can always swap around again if it doesn't work. Boys, next time, ask before you help yourselves. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay, Dad.”
“Okay, Bryan,” Darren said. “Can I call you 'Dad' too?”
“Yes, of course you can, Son.”
“Thanks. I've never had a dad before. And Robin can call mum, 'Mum'.”
“Only if he wants to,” Debbie smiled.
“Oh yes, I want to. Thanks, Debbie – I mean, thanks, Mum.”
“Welcome, Son.”
Darren hauled his pants up and they went back, off the concrete foundations and on to the leaf-covered hillside under the densely-packed trees.
The ground in there was wet, small patches still had white frost on them and there were icicles around where water was trickling down the hill.
“Maybe this wasn't such a good idea,” Robin looked around. “I'm not sitting my bare bum down on any of that!”
“You don't have to sit down.” Darren dropped his pants again, displaying his now fully-erect dick. “We're just checking-out the equipment here and we can stand up to do that. Come on then, are you going to show me or are you going to get all shy?”
“I'm not shy.” Robin unzipped his jean and pushed them down to his knees, exposing his own throbbing erection.
“Oh, wow. Now that's nice,” Darren grinned. “That's very nice. Big too. I knew you would be.”
“Yeah, well. I don't think it's bigger than yours though. Maybe a bit longer?”
“You think so? Let's measure them.” Darren shuffled forward and pressed his dick against Robin's.
Darren shuffled forward and pushed his dick up against Robin's. Robin was taller, but by spreading his legs well apart, they stood at the same level and both could feel the pulsing in the warm flesh pressed against them
“Oh, yeah!” Darren looked down. “They're just about the same, I think.”
“Looks like it, yes.” Robin pulled back, looked into Darren's eyes, and then he reached out and wrapped his fingers around his dick. “You're big and you've got a great dick.”
He ran his hand up and down, softly and gently, grinning at the quivering. “Do you wank yet?”
“Doesn't everyone? I don't do it all of the time.”
“No? When do you then?”
“Only on days ending with a 'y',” Darren grinned.
“Yeah? Me too!” Robin grinned back. “So, are you up for doing it together?”
Darren ran his fingertips from under Robin's balls, up to the top of the shaft, then down again, wrapping his hand around him and pumping a couple of times. “I think we're both very up for it. Don't you?”
“Sure looks like it!”
They stood facing each other, each with one hand roaming around the other's body and pumping on his shaft until they both came together, squirting semen on each other's bellies.
“Hot damm! That was so good. I think maybe I can live out here after all.”
“You do? That's good, I guess.”
“I guess so too. You said that we might be sharing a room. I think I'd like that if we can do more of this.”
“More wanking? I'd like to do much more of that!”
“Yeah, and much more than that too.”
“More?” Robin frowned. “Oh. You mean all the way sex?”
“Yep. All the way, fucking and everything. If I've got to live all of the way out here, I want something good to make up for it.”
“We can find lots of good stuff to do!”
“Great. We will then, and it'll be better in a bed. We should be getting back to the house now.”
“Yeah, suppose so. We don't want them coming out and finding us here like this.”
“We surely don't! Let's get moving then.”
They cleaned-up, as best as they could, put their clothes back together and started walking back to the house, both walking along quietly and thinking their own thoughts.
Darren said, “Have you done it before? Sex, I mean.”
“I've felt-up a couple of people – one girl, one boy. That's all. How much have you done?”
“Less than you. I've never even seen anyone naked before, not really. I've read a lot, on the internet, but I've never done anything. Now I want to try it out.”
“And you want to try it with me. I thought you didn't like me?”
“I thought I didn't, but I didn't know you. Now, maybe I could learn to like you.”
“Yeah? Maybe I could learn to too.”
“Okay. If it doesn't work out, I'm still going to see if my grandparents will let me live with them.”
“Where do they live?”
“At Paraparaumu – north of Wellington.”
“No way!”
“Yes, they do.”
“But my grandparents live there too!”
“No!”
“Yes. They're by the beach, where do yours live?”
“Not by the beach, they're not that rich. They live further back, near the railway station. It's a big town.”
“It's a small country! But, yeah, it is a big town.”
“It is. Bigger than ours anyway. Tell you what, if you do decide to run away, let me know and I'll come with you. Shooting through to the grandparents' was my plan too.”
“It was?” Darren grinned. “Okay. If we run away from each other, we'll run away together.”
“That's a plan,” Robin laughed. “I think we're a lot more alike than we thought we were.”
“Yeah, we are. Plus – I like your dick.”
“I like yours too, a lot. We can be friends and help each other.”
“Possibly. As long as we get each other off, I'll be happy.”
“Me too! Actually, you're a lot smarter than me. I'm thinking, maybe you can help me out with schoolwork and stuff.”
“Could do. Maybe you can help me too. You're bigger, fitter and stronger than I am. I'd like to bulk-up a bit so the friggin' bullies will stop picking on me.”
“I stopped them, the other day, and you told me off for it.”
“That's different. I want to get so that I can look after myself. Are you going to help me?”
“I am. We'll help each other, that'll be a fair trade-off.”
“Cool. And, what happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom.”
“Of course it does. It'll be good exercise too.”
Robin felt that he should be showing the Kid that he wasn't totally ignorant. He was supposed to be showing him around the Ranch. “That creek across the valley there, coming down from the hills, that's Lanky's Creek.”
“Yea,” Darren nodded. “Lanky's Creek, named after a tall, skinny, gold-fossicker. I've been up there, searching for fossils.”
“So have I! There's heaps of them up there – Devonian Era, limestone fossils.”
“That's them. They prove that this whole area was under the sea once.”
“Really? The sea is bloody miles away! A couple of hours, almost.”
“It is now, but it wasn't away back then. New Zealand is the youngest country in the world and it's still rising up out of the sea. The Southern Alps are growing at about 10 millimeters a year – that's why we have earthquakes.”
“Bloody earthquakes! But, if it's growing, we might be bigger than Aussie one day.”
“Maybe. It'd take one hell of a long time though; you and I won't be around to see it.”
“Probably not. You hungry?”
“Do fish crap in the water? Of course I'm hungry, it's been a couple of hours!”
“Yeah. Let's go eat.”
There was no-one there when they got back to the house, so they micro-waved a couple of frozen pies and made a sandwich each while they were waiting. They were sitting by the fire, eating, when the parents came back in.
Debbie said, Well! Don't you two look cosy, sitting there?”
“Yeah, it's all good, Mum,” Darren replied. “Where've you been?”
“Just walking around. Bryan was showing me the sheds and garages. I'll need somewhere to keep my car out of the weather. How do you think you'll like living out here, Son?”
“Oh,” Darren glanced at Robin and they exchanged a smile. “I think I'll like it fine.”
Bryan said, “That's good. You think you'll be able to get along with this big lug here, do you?”
They smiled again and Darren said, “I do. I think I'll be able to knock him into shape.”
“Hey!” Robin protested. “I'll knock you into shape.”
“That's the plan, innit?”
“Well, I'm really pleased,” Debbie said. “It's good that you're getting along. You're going to be step-brothers.”
“We're going to be brothers,” Robin nodded.
“And you're happy to share a room?”
“We are,” Darren replied.
Robin said, “Yeah, Dad. We can do it. The only other choice is for me to share with you and Darren with Debbie, and we're not doing that.”
“We are not!” Bryan and Debbie agreed.
The parents were married a couple of weeks later, on a Thursday afternoon, in a small and intimate ceremony in the Anglican church. Robin, looking very cute in a suit, was his father's Best Man and Darren 'gave his mother away'.
The boys were too young to sign the marriage register, so adult friends had to do that for them. The whole party ate at the town's flashest restaurant, in the Hotel Riverston, and then the bride and groom went away for a long-weekend honeymoon in Hanmer.
On the way out, they dropped Robin and Darren off at the Ranch. They really should not have been left alone with no adult supervision, but – whatever. They promised not to burn the house down, and they didn't.
No-one said anything, but they all knew that nobody would be going to school on Friday.
The parents went off and left them, and the boys stayed home and had a honeymoon of their own. It was grouse! Also, choice, Also, very busy. They were both sore and exhausted by Sunday.
Mr. and Mrs. Hedges returned on Sunday evening and they all went off to school and work next morning. Debbie took Darren in her car and Robin went on the bus, as usual. She offered to take him in to town as well, but Robin said no, he'd go on the bus. He liked the bus and wanted to keep riding it.
Darren would have to travel with him soon, when Debbie's pregnancy got so far advanced that she had to stop work for a year or two. (“'Stop work' Oh, yes? Stopping work to carry bricks, I think.”)
Bryan was already at home when they all returned after school. “Robin, what is Debbie's bed doing in your room?”
“We moved it in there. That's okay, isn't it? It was only sitting out in the barn where the rats will eat into it. It's safer in the house.”
“I suppose it will be,” Debbie shuddered. “We're not using it, but it's a Queen-size bed. Are you sure that there's enough space for it in your room?”
“There's plenty of room now,” Darren said. “We threw the other beds out and they're in the barn.”
“So you're both going to sleep in the same bed. How's that going to work?”
“It'll work fine, Dad. We like it like that. One bed means more free floor space and we can keep each other warm. You won't let me have a heater and it's friggin' freezing in there sometimes.”
“Well . . okay then. We'll see how it goes. You can always swap around again if it doesn't work. Boys, next time, ask before you help yourselves. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay, Dad.”
“Okay, Bryan,” Darren said. “Can I call you 'Dad' too?”
“Yes, of course you can, Son.”
“Thanks. I've never had a dad before. And Robin can call mum, 'Mum'.”
“Only if he wants to,” Debbie smiled.
“Oh yes, I want to. Thanks, Debbie – I mean, thanks, Mum.”
“Welcome, Son.”
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Brownsville Tales - Robin, 3
He didn't go to school next day. He was going to, he was up and dressed and ready to go, and then – he didn't. Bryan got a phone-call at breakfast-time and he had to go to the mine early – something to do with Rick's truck not starting and the ventilation fans having to be started. Whatever it was, he was up and gone in a hurry.
“I might be late home tonight. I'll have to go to town and do some shopping after work. Get yourself a sandwich or something when you get home from school and I'll bring takeaways home for supper. Does a burger sound good to you?”
“Yeah, Dad. Two burgers would sound even better. They're not big y'know.”
“Two burgers? Okay, I suppose you're a growing boy and all that. You want fries with them?”
“Well, of course! Thanks.”
“You haven't got 'em yet. Thank me when you do. I've gotta go! Make sure you put the screen in front of the fire and close the doors when you leave. 'Bye Rob.”
“'Bye, Dad. See you tonight.”
Bryan left in a hurry. Robin watched the car go out of the drive, and then he had a brilliant idea. He put a couple of shovelfuls of coal on the fire, sat down and put his feet up. He wasn't going to school. Stuff that. He was staying here by the fire, where it was warm. Nice. This was the life.
He didn't often bunk school, hardly ever actually, but today he was. It was freezing out there again. There was even ice on the inside of the window in his room when he woke up. His dad didn't believe in heaters in the bedrooms. He claimed that they were not healthy and were a waste of money. No-one ever froze in their bed.
He imagined that Darren would be walking to school by now and he wondered if those goons were chucking ice at him again? He wouldn't be stopping them if he was there anyway. He got no thanks for helping him yesterday and he wasn't doing that again, but he still didn't like it.
No-one deserves that sort of treatment, not even Darren Hughes. But – none of his business. Hughes had made that perfectly clear.
Why didn't he like him? That'd really upset him for some strange reason.
He was NOT going to sit here worrying about that all day. It was great sitting by the fire on a frosty morning. He probably wouldn't get many chances to have a day off like this again. Would Deb and her sprog be moving in here, or would him and his dad move into town?
He didn't know, but he hoped they would stay out here. He didn't want to leave the Ranch, this was his home, the only home he'd ever known. Shame that things couldn't stay as they were, but that's life. Only dead things don't move.
Why didn't Darren Hughes like him and what could he do about it? Nothing! That's what.
He had another breakfast, like a hobbit – hobbits were known for second breakfasts. Actually, now that he was starting to get hair on his legs, there was some growing on the tops of his feet too. Maybe he was turning into a hobbit? Nah. He was already too tall for that, hobbits were only little people. Darren Hughes was little. Why didn't he like him?
He lazed around the house all day and did nothing much, except for keeping the fire going. The daytime TV was all a lot of rubbish – soppy soap operas, dumb-arse people screeching at talk-show hosts and infantile pre-school, children's programmes. He soon gave up on that and turned it off. He wasn't missing anything on TV when he was at school.
If he knew his dad, he was going to want a major clean-up around the house before his girlfriend arrived tomorrow. He did think about making a start on that now, but no. If he did too much, his dad would know that he didn't go to school. So, he did none.
Besides, it was his day off, wasn't it? There's an idea – he could watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off. They had it on DVD. But, no. He'd seen it a hundred times already and he couldn't be bothered.
He sat and watched the coal burning on the open fire and the day slipped passed all too quickly.
It was way after dark when his dad arrived home and Robin was hungry!
“Nice and warm in here,” Bryan smiled.
“Yep. I got it warm just for you.”
“Sure you did. Want to help me put these groceries away?”
“Later, Dad. I'm starving here. Let's eat before it gets cold.”
“Before what gets cold? Oh, right. I was going to get burgers, wasn't I? Well, I forgot.”
“Dad, you didn't!”
“I didn't – forget. They're in the bag there. Help yourself.”
They sat either side of the fire, devouring their luke-warm takeaways.
“How was school today?”
“It was fine. Is Debbie still coming out tomorrow?”
“She is. Should be here about lunchtime.”
“Right. Is she bringing that kid with her?”
“Darren? Yes, I suppose she will be.”
“Damm.”
“That'll do, Rob. I told you, this is happening whether you like it or not. You'll just have to learn to get along with the kid. Why don't you like him.”
“I, ah . . I dunno. Why doesn't he like me?”
“How do you know that?”
“That's what he told me. He said he don't like me at all and he's not going to live out here with us.”
“Is that so? I think you'll find that he's got no more say in the matter than you have, and that's not a lot.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad. So I'm going to have to live with someone who hates me?”
“Could be. Lots of people do.You'll work it out. He seems like a nice enough kid, and so are you – mostly.”
“Well, thanks. You don't think I'm a stuck-up, conceited pig then?
“I don't know. Are you?”
“No, I'm not! But he thinks so.”
“You'll just have to show him he's wrong then, won't you?
“So you don't think I am? I'm pleased someone likes me.”
“Of course I bloody like you. You're my boy, my first-born and you always will be.”
“Probably. Unless they invent time-travel.”
“Not likely. Now then, we're going to have to have a major clean-up here before Deb arrives. We don't want her thinking that we're a couple of slobs.”
“That sounds like work.”
“It does, but it's got to be done. But not now. I've already done a day's work, we'll start in the morning.”
“Great.”
It wasn't so great next morning when his dad came into his room, banging and crashing and waking him up. “Come on, Sleepyhead, out of bed! We've got work to do.”
“Oh no,” he groaned. “It's too early. It's not even daylight yet. Go away!” He rolled over and pulled the covers up over his head.
“Oh no you don't,” Bryan exclaimed. “It is morning. It's after 7 already and the sun will be up soon enough.”
“This son won't be.”
“Oh but he will.” Bryan whipped the covers right off him.
“Ow! Damm, Dad. It's cold.”
“Move your butt then.”
Robin was sleeping naked, as usual, and he had to roll on to his stomach to hide his morning boner. That meant his lily-white butt was exposed to the world, but that was better than the alternative.
“Come on, Boy,” Bryan grinned. “Get some clothes on and I'll see you in the kitchen” He left and took all the covers with him!
Robin could get up and dressed or he could lie there and freeze. He got up.
He came out to the kitchen and his dad was sitting by the fire, drinking coffee. “Here's my Laughing Boy,” he grinned. “Have a rude awakening, did you?”
“I did, and don't worry, you're going to pay for that.”
“You'll try. Get something to eat and we'll get started. I'll do my room and the lounge. You can do your room, and then get started in here. I'll help you when I've done my bit.”
“Oh great. This is the messiest room in the house, because we spend the most time in here.”
“I know. That's why we'll both be cleaning in here. We've only got until lunchtime, so there's no time to waste. Do the dishes and dry them and put them away for once. Get rid of all this junk. Burn whatever burns. Then throw the clothes into the laundry and wipe-down all the ledges and surfaces. I'll vacuum the floor, and then we're going to scrub it.”
“Oh joy. But why bother? Wouldn't it be more honest to let her see how we really live?”
“Not likely. She'd run a mile.”
“That'd be a bad thing?”
“Shut up, Rob.”
They worked all morning. It's amazing how much dust and dirt collects, especially up in the high places. That's the downside of having a big fire. They finished-up when they heard a car coming in from the highway. Robin put the cleaning gear into the laundry and went to the bathroom to freshen-up before their visitors came in.
They arrived and Robin fell in love – with her, not him. She came in carrying a couple of flat boxes and gave him a big warm smile.
“Hello, Robin. Nice to meet you at last. I've brought lunch, as promised. Where should I put these?”
“Umm, yeah. Hey, Debbie. Put them on the table, I guess.”
“No sooner said than done. You do like pizza, I hope?”
“Pizza? I love pizza! But where did you get them? There's no place in town does pizza, is there?”
“Not as far as I know. I made them myself. Darren cut-up some cartons to make boxes – he's a clever boy, my Dazza. You do know each other, don't you?”
“Well, kind-of. Hello, Darren. Nice to see you here.”
Darren just nodded and said, “Hey.” Everyone paused, like they were waiting for him to say more, but he didn't.
“Well,” Deb smiled again. “Not very talkative, my Boy. Let's eat, shall we,? Before it gets cold and yucky.”
They ate and it was great pizza. There were no fries though, there was no time to heat them.
“What did you think, Rob?” his dad asked.
“Of the pizza? That was Ace! Thanks, Deb. I've never had better.”
“Pleased you liked them. I will clean-up here. Why don't you boys go and get lost? Dazza wants to have a look around outside, don't you, Son? Will you be his guide, Robin? You must know the area really well.”
“Sure. I'll show him around, if he wants me too.”
“Thanks,” said Darren. He picked-up his big notebook and headed out of the door.
'I knew he was booky.' Robin followed him out. “What's the book for, Darren?”
“Just my notes. Mum's planning on living out here, so I'm finding out about the place.”
“Yeah? There's not much here now, but it was a huge town once.”
“Not really. There was a town, but there was never any more than about 300 people living here. A lot of the miners lived in town, or at the Point, and they walked out here every day.”
“How do you know all that?”
“I read. That will be where the Progress Mill was, down there at the corner of the river. Can we go down there?”
“Sure. Just watch your feet, there's a lot of holes and stuff. It was a huge operation. They had a 60 head quartz-crushing battery there.”
“65 head, actually. It was big, but it wasn't the biggest. The Wealth's battery was bigger. That's why the place was called Crushingtown.”
“I knew that. They say that when the batteries stopped on Sundays, it was so quiet the locals couldn't sleep. They would've been hella noisy and echoed off the hills too.”
“They would. How many bedrooms are there in your house?”
“Just two. That's why we might have to share a room.”
“Not happening. Two bedrooms? It's not the house where Jack Lovelock was born then. Their one's gone. It must've moved, been demolished or burnt down.”
“Yeah? Jack Lovelock? I know about him. New Zealand's greatest-ever runner and he cleaned-up at Hitler's Olympics in Berlin in 1936.”
“He did.”
“But, how do you know that ours was not his house? It's old enough to be the one.”
“Because you've only got the two bedrooms. Lovelock's father was the Superintendent of the battery here and bosses always had big houses so shareholders had somewhere to stay when they came visiting.
“Ah, right. You're pretty bright, Dazza. I've lived here all of my life and already you know more than me.”
“I'm not super-bright, I've just been reading. Don't call me 'Dazza'. That's Mum's stupid name for me.”
“Okay. What should I call you then?”
“'Sir' could work.”
“Not for me, it won't. I'll call you Darren.”
“Suit yourself. Can we go up these stairs in the foundations here?”
“Well, yeah. But why would you want to? There's nothing up there.”
“No, but it's high-up. There'll be a better view from up there.”
“Let's do that then.”
The stairs and the old concrete foundations climbed up the foot of the hill. The building that used to be there was obviously several stories high. Darren was puffing and out of breath when they reached the top. Robin wasn't and he felt quite smug about that. He was much fitter than the townie.
“Okay,” Daren said when he'd recovered. “This was the Progress Mill and they used to crush and process the ore here from the Globe and Progress mines. That would've come down the hill there, on an aerial cableway. The Wealth and the Dark were across the valley, by the main road down there.”
“The Wealth would be the Wealth of Nations mine,” Robin replied. “But what was the Dark?”
“Sheesh! You should know that. The Keep it Dark was one of the richest, longest lasting mines in the whole district. It wasn't huge, but it produced gold year after year.”
“Right. I did know that.”
“So,” Darren consulted his notebook. “The Wealth was the furtherest away, by the bend in the highway. The Dark was next to it, and then the Hercules. The Golden Ledge, Vulcan and Independent were along the same line and the Energetic was back up in the hills. Do you know where the Pandora was?”
“No. Where?”
“I'm asking you. I don't know.”
“Oh. Same. There was a lot of mines.”
“There was. Most of them weren't very big and they only lasted for a few years, but gold that came out of this area provided the money to get the whole country going. There were over 70 mines altogether.”
“Around here?”
“In the whole district.”
Robin stood looking out over his valley that he'd thought he knew so well. “I wonder if there's any gold still out there? That'd be cool.”
“Could be, but not very likely,” Darren replied. “Those old-time miners knew what they were doing. They wouldn't have missed much.”
“Deep down, there could be. Modern machinery can get to where they couldn't.”
“Maybe. Have you got a couple of million dollars worth of modern equipment?”
“I wish. Damm!” he looked around. “What're you doing?”
“Pissing,” Darren grinned. His track pants and boxers were down around his knees and he stood with his half-hard dick poking out and releasing a stream that soared down over the concrete cliff and splash-landed far below them.
“When you've gotta go, you've gotta go! Oh Man, that feels better. I was bustin'”
“You must've been! Wow.”
Robin stood staring with his mouth hanging open and his eyes bugging out. Darren finished peeing, but he was in no hurry to put his junk away. He put his hands behind his head and shook his dick dry by flicking his hips.
He was small and skinny, and that dick wouldn't have looked out of place on someone twice his size. It dwarfed his nuts which were almost hidden behind it. Uncut, his foreskin was almost peeled back and the tip of his purple knob was peeking out. His skin down there was milky-white, except for the darker-pink dick, and a small tuft of curly black hair topped his equipment.
Robin couldn't stop staring. He had, of course, had plenty of fleeting glimpses of other people's gear before. But, apart from his own, he'd never had a close-up look. Was it rising in a full-on hard-on? Yes, it was!
It had just occurred to him that the kid wasn't in any hurry to pull his pants up and put everything away, when he wiggled his hips again and said, “Like what you see?”
“Well – yeah!” Robin blushed, but he didn't stop looking. “You, umm, you're really well-built, down there. For a small kid, you're big!”
“I'm not THAT small.”
“Right. You're not.”
“Is mine bigger than yours?”
“I, umm, I'm not sure. Could be. Maybe.”
“Come on then,” Darren grinned. “Flop it out and we'll compare them. Or are you shy?”
“Not really,” Robin grinned back. “But . . not here. We can see across the whole valley. Anyone out there can see us – especially if they've got binoculars or a telescope. My dad's got a telescope.”
“Why would they?”
“You want to risk it?”
“Not really. Come back under the trees there, and then we will.”
“All right!”
“I might be late home tonight. I'll have to go to town and do some shopping after work. Get yourself a sandwich or something when you get home from school and I'll bring takeaways home for supper. Does a burger sound good to you?”
“Yeah, Dad. Two burgers would sound even better. They're not big y'know.”
“Two burgers? Okay, I suppose you're a growing boy and all that. You want fries with them?”
“Well, of course! Thanks.”
“You haven't got 'em yet. Thank me when you do. I've gotta go! Make sure you put the screen in front of the fire and close the doors when you leave. 'Bye Rob.”
“'Bye, Dad. See you tonight.”
Bryan left in a hurry. Robin watched the car go out of the drive, and then he had a brilliant idea. He put a couple of shovelfuls of coal on the fire, sat down and put his feet up. He wasn't going to school. Stuff that. He was staying here by the fire, where it was warm. Nice. This was the life.
He didn't often bunk school, hardly ever actually, but today he was. It was freezing out there again. There was even ice on the inside of the window in his room when he woke up. His dad didn't believe in heaters in the bedrooms. He claimed that they were not healthy and were a waste of money. No-one ever froze in their bed.
He imagined that Darren would be walking to school by now and he wondered if those goons were chucking ice at him again? He wouldn't be stopping them if he was there anyway. He got no thanks for helping him yesterday and he wasn't doing that again, but he still didn't like it.
No-one deserves that sort of treatment, not even Darren Hughes. But – none of his business. Hughes had made that perfectly clear.
Why didn't he like him? That'd really upset him for some strange reason.
He was NOT going to sit here worrying about that all day. It was great sitting by the fire on a frosty morning. He probably wouldn't get many chances to have a day off like this again. Would Deb and her sprog be moving in here, or would him and his dad move into town?
He didn't know, but he hoped they would stay out here. He didn't want to leave the Ranch, this was his home, the only home he'd ever known. Shame that things couldn't stay as they were, but that's life. Only dead things don't move.
Why didn't Darren Hughes like him and what could he do about it? Nothing! That's what.
He had another breakfast, like a hobbit – hobbits were known for second breakfasts. Actually, now that he was starting to get hair on his legs, there was some growing on the tops of his feet too. Maybe he was turning into a hobbit? Nah. He was already too tall for that, hobbits were only little people. Darren Hughes was little. Why didn't he like him?
He lazed around the house all day and did nothing much, except for keeping the fire going. The daytime TV was all a lot of rubbish – soppy soap operas, dumb-arse people screeching at talk-show hosts and infantile pre-school, children's programmes. He soon gave up on that and turned it off. He wasn't missing anything on TV when he was at school.
If he knew his dad, he was going to want a major clean-up around the house before his girlfriend arrived tomorrow. He did think about making a start on that now, but no. If he did too much, his dad would know that he didn't go to school. So, he did none.
Besides, it was his day off, wasn't it? There's an idea – he could watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off. They had it on DVD. But, no. He'd seen it a hundred times already and he couldn't be bothered.
He sat and watched the coal burning on the open fire and the day slipped passed all too quickly.
It was way after dark when his dad arrived home and Robin was hungry!
“Nice and warm in here,” Bryan smiled.
“Yep. I got it warm just for you.”
“Sure you did. Want to help me put these groceries away?”
“Later, Dad. I'm starving here. Let's eat before it gets cold.”
“Before what gets cold? Oh, right. I was going to get burgers, wasn't I? Well, I forgot.”
“Dad, you didn't!”
“I didn't – forget. They're in the bag there. Help yourself.”
They sat either side of the fire, devouring their luke-warm takeaways.
“How was school today?”
“It was fine. Is Debbie still coming out tomorrow?”
“She is. Should be here about lunchtime.”
“Right. Is she bringing that kid with her?”
“Darren? Yes, I suppose she will be.”
“Damm.”
“That'll do, Rob. I told you, this is happening whether you like it or not. You'll just have to learn to get along with the kid. Why don't you like him.”
“I, ah . . I dunno. Why doesn't he like me?”
“How do you know that?”
“That's what he told me. He said he don't like me at all and he's not going to live out here with us.”
“Is that so? I think you'll find that he's got no more say in the matter than you have, and that's not a lot.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad. So I'm going to have to live with someone who hates me?”
“Could be. Lots of people do.You'll work it out. He seems like a nice enough kid, and so are you – mostly.”
“Well, thanks. You don't think I'm a stuck-up, conceited pig then?
“I don't know. Are you?”
“No, I'm not! But he thinks so.”
“You'll just have to show him he's wrong then, won't you?
“So you don't think I am? I'm pleased someone likes me.”
“Of course I bloody like you. You're my boy, my first-born and you always will be.”
“Probably. Unless they invent time-travel.”
“Not likely. Now then, we're going to have to have a major clean-up here before Deb arrives. We don't want her thinking that we're a couple of slobs.”
“That sounds like work.”
“It does, but it's got to be done. But not now. I've already done a day's work, we'll start in the morning.”
“Great.”
It wasn't so great next morning when his dad came into his room, banging and crashing and waking him up. “Come on, Sleepyhead, out of bed! We've got work to do.”
“Oh no,” he groaned. “It's too early. It's not even daylight yet. Go away!” He rolled over and pulled the covers up over his head.
“Oh no you don't,” Bryan exclaimed. “It is morning. It's after 7 already and the sun will be up soon enough.”
“This son won't be.”
“Oh but he will.” Bryan whipped the covers right off him.
“Ow! Damm, Dad. It's cold.”
“Move your butt then.”
Robin was sleeping naked, as usual, and he had to roll on to his stomach to hide his morning boner. That meant his lily-white butt was exposed to the world, but that was better than the alternative.
“Come on, Boy,” Bryan grinned. “Get some clothes on and I'll see you in the kitchen” He left and took all the covers with him!
Robin could get up and dressed or he could lie there and freeze. He got up.
He came out to the kitchen and his dad was sitting by the fire, drinking coffee. “Here's my Laughing Boy,” he grinned. “Have a rude awakening, did you?”
“I did, and don't worry, you're going to pay for that.”
“You'll try. Get something to eat and we'll get started. I'll do my room and the lounge. You can do your room, and then get started in here. I'll help you when I've done my bit.”
“Oh great. This is the messiest room in the house, because we spend the most time in here.”
“I know. That's why we'll both be cleaning in here. We've only got until lunchtime, so there's no time to waste. Do the dishes and dry them and put them away for once. Get rid of all this junk. Burn whatever burns. Then throw the clothes into the laundry and wipe-down all the ledges and surfaces. I'll vacuum the floor, and then we're going to scrub it.”
“Oh joy. But why bother? Wouldn't it be more honest to let her see how we really live?”
“Not likely. She'd run a mile.”
“That'd be a bad thing?”
“Shut up, Rob.”
They worked all morning. It's amazing how much dust and dirt collects, especially up in the high places. That's the downside of having a big fire. They finished-up when they heard a car coming in from the highway. Robin put the cleaning gear into the laundry and went to the bathroom to freshen-up before their visitors came in.
They arrived and Robin fell in love – with her, not him. She came in carrying a couple of flat boxes and gave him a big warm smile.
“Hello, Robin. Nice to meet you at last. I've brought lunch, as promised. Where should I put these?”
“Umm, yeah. Hey, Debbie. Put them on the table, I guess.”
“No sooner said than done. You do like pizza, I hope?”
“Pizza? I love pizza! But where did you get them? There's no place in town does pizza, is there?”
“Not as far as I know. I made them myself. Darren cut-up some cartons to make boxes – he's a clever boy, my Dazza. You do know each other, don't you?”
“Well, kind-of. Hello, Darren. Nice to see you here.”
Darren just nodded and said, “Hey.” Everyone paused, like they were waiting for him to say more, but he didn't.
“Well,” Deb smiled again. “Not very talkative, my Boy. Let's eat, shall we,? Before it gets cold and yucky.”
They ate and it was great pizza. There were no fries though, there was no time to heat them.
“What did you think, Rob?” his dad asked.
“Of the pizza? That was Ace! Thanks, Deb. I've never had better.”
“Pleased you liked them. I will clean-up here. Why don't you boys go and get lost? Dazza wants to have a look around outside, don't you, Son? Will you be his guide, Robin? You must know the area really well.”
“Sure. I'll show him around, if he wants me too.”
“Thanks,” said Darren. He picked-up his big notebook and headed out of the door.
'I knew he was booky.' Robin followed him out. “What's the book for, Darren?”
“Just my notes. Mum's planning on living out here, so I'm finding out about the place.”
“Yeah? There's not much here now, but it was a huge town once.”
“Not really. There was a town, but there was never any more than about 300 people living here. A lot of the miners lived in town, or at the Point, and they walked out here every day.”
“How do you know all that?”
“I read. That will be where the Progress Mill was, down there at the corner of the river. Can we go down there?”
“Sure. Just watch your feet, there's a lot of holes and stuff. It was a huge operation. They had a 60 head quartz-crushing battery there.”
“65 head, actually. It was big, but it wasn't the biggest. The Wealth's battery was bigger. That's why the place was called Crushingtown.”
“I knew that. They say that when the batteries stopped on Sundays, it was so quiet the locals couldn't sleep. They would've been hella noisy and echoed off the hills too.”
“They would. How many bedrooms are there in your house?”
“Just two. That's why we might have to share a room.”
“Not happening. Two bedrooms? It's not the house where Jack Lovelock was born then. Their one's gone. It must've moved, been demolished or burnt down.”
“Yeah? Jack Lovelock? I know about him. New Zealand's greatest-ever runner and he cleaned-up at Hitler's Olympics in Berlin in 1936.”
“He did.”
“But, how do you know that ours was not his house? It's old enough to be the one.”
“Because you've only got the two bedrooms. Lovelock's father was the Superintendent of the battery here and bosses always had big houses so shareholders had somewhere to stay when they came visiting.
“Ah, right. You're pretty bright, Dazza. I've lived here all of my life and already you know more than me.”
“I'm not super-bright, I've just been reading. Don't call me 'Dazza'. That's Mum's stupid name for me.”
“Okay. What should I call you then?”
“'Sir' could work.”
“Not for me, it won't. I'll call you Darren.”
“Suit yourself. Can we go up these stairs in the foundations here?”
“Well, yeah. But why would you want to? There's nothing up there.”
“No, but it's high-up. There'll be a better view from up there.”
“Let's do that then.”
The stairs and the old concrete foundations climbed up the foot of the hill. The building that used to be there was obviously several stories high. Darren was puffing and out of breath when they reached the top. Robin wasn't and he felt quite smug about that. He was much fitter than the townie.
“Okay,” Daren said when he'd recovered. “This was the Progress Mill and they used to crush and process the ore here from the Globe and Progress mines. That would've come down the hill there, on an aerial cableway. The Wealth and the Dark were across the valley, by the main road down there.”
“The Wealth would be the Wealth of Nations mine,” Robin replied. “But what was the Dark?”
“Sheesh! You should know that. The Keep it Dark was one of the richest, longest lasting mines in the whole district. It wasn't huge, but it produced gold year after year.”
“Right. I did know that.”
“So,” Darren consulted his notebook. “The Wealth was the furtherest away, by the bend in the highway. The Dark was next to it, and then the Hercules. The Golden Ledge, Vulcan and Independent were along the same line and the Energetic was back up in the hills. Do you know where the Pandora was?”
“No. Where?”
“I'm asking you. I don't know.”
“Oh. Same. There was a lot of mines.”
“There was. Most of them weren't very big and they only lasted for a few years, but gold that came out of this area provided the money to get the whole country going. There were over 70 mines altogether.”
“Around here?”
“In the whole district.”
Robin stood looking out over his valley that he'd thought he knew so well. “I wonder if there's any gold still out there? That'd be cool.”
“Could be, but not very likely,” Darren replied. “Those old-time miners knew what they were doing. They wouldn't have missed much.”
“Deep down, there could be. Modern machinery can get to where they couldn't.”
“Maybe. Have you got a couple of million dollars worth of modern equipment?”
“I wish. Damm!” he looked around. “What're you doing?”
“Pissing,” Darren grinned. His track pants and boxers were down around his knees and he stood with his half-hard dick poking out and releasing a stream that soared down over the concrete cliff and splash-landed far below them.
“When you've gotta go, you've gotta go! Oh Man, that feels better. I was bustin'”
“You must've been! Wow.”
Robin stood staring with his mouth hanging open and his eyes bugging out. Darren finished peeing, but he was in no hurry to put his junk away. He put his hands behind his head and shook his dick dry by flicking his hips.
He was small and skinny, and that dick wouldn't have looked out of place on someone twice his size. It dwarfed his nuts which were almost hidden behind it. Uncut, his foreskin was almost peeled back and the tip of his purple knob was peeking out. His skin down there was milky-white, except for the darker-pink dick, and a small tuft of curly black hair topped his equipment.
Robin couldn't stop staring. He had, of course, had plenty of fleeting glimpses of other people's gear before. But, apart from his own, he'd never had a close-up look. Was it rising in a full-on hard-on? Yes, it was!
It had just occurred to him that the kid wasn't in any hurry to pull his pants up and put everything away, when he wiggled his hips again and said, “Like what you see?”
“Well – yeah!” Robin blushed, but he didn't stop looking. “You, umm, you're really well-built, down there. For a small kid, you're big!”
“I'm not THAT small.”
“Right. You're not.”
“Is mine bigger than yours?”
“I, umm, I'm not sure. Could be. Maybe.”
“Come on then,” Darren grinned. “Flop it out and we'll compare them. Or are you shy?”
“Not really,” Robin grinned back. “But . . not here. We can see across the whole valley. Anyone out there can see us – especially if they've got binoculars or a telescope. My dad's got a telescope.”
“Why would they?”
“You want to risk it?”
“Not really. Come back under the trees there, and then we will.”
“All right!”
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