Heritage 3

 

Disclaimer: This is a story of pure fiction. If you are not allowed to read this in whatever part of the world you are living, then try not to get caught, and legally you shouldnt be reading this. If you are not 18 or older then again, do not read, lastly, this will contain gay sex between consenting people and if this offends you, then click back and ask why your on here in the first place. If your looking for a story to get your rocks off, then this will not be a story for you, yes there will be sex but in later chapters.
This story is property of myself, the author and may not be copied or used on other sites without my express permission. All characters are fictional.

Feedback appreciated contact me on monkurchakar@yahoo.com

Chapter three

Oh by the way, my name is Jay, my mother Gail wanted to call me `E tu te wairua o te ra' which means the rising spirit of the sun. But dad John (such a proper English name), could barely pronounce the name let alone spell it and pleaded with mum to at least have an English sounding name first and then my Maori name second. And my perfect brother is James. Now why is he perfect you may ask? Well he and dad have this father and son bonding thing down pat. I mean they do the sports games, dad loves cricket and rugby, and James is a natural athlete also a science and math nerd on top, so he is a jock and brains. I on the other hand am average at anything that involved science, hate math, and although people are amazed at some of the things that come out of my mouth, I'm not sure that's a good quality to have, because sometimes the looks they give me don't look all that complimentary, but literature and English is my passion. And sports? Puhlease, just watching all those guys run around makes me tired, what makes you think I would like to play sports. Mind you I like the eye candy of watching them run around like that, but I was blessed with a high body metabolism, due to my Tohunga abilities needing an energy source, plus all the training of my tohunga skills that I have gone through means that I aint bad to look at body wise, I'm just not buff. Gran gran reckons if I put my mind to it, I would be a great athlete, but I can't be bothered to test her theory.
Anyway, growing up with a brother who was perfect and then me, who would become a gay son, meant dad found it hard to get his head around one of his baby boys being something out of the ordinary.
When mum told me these exact words, I kinda laughed and said that I get my blond moments from dad then, because finding out mum was like this super being and then freaking out I was gonna be gay? Damn dad had some strange moments to freak out.
And how did dad know I was going to be gay?
It comes back to that heritage thing again. All tohunga males were gay. It was genetic. Gran gran knew I was a tohunga, when she touched mums womb and it was mum that told dad I would be a lover of men.

Mum finally had to have a serious talk to dad when I was about 8. It seemed that because he and I didn't have that much in common, compared to James, we spent very little time together. Mum saw that was favouritism and threatened to injure dad in a way he would never sire children again. Dad took it to heart and attempted to include me in the things he did with James. Naturally I sucked at the games they played, or the fishing they did, or the silences that meant they were communicating in this completely hetero way that made speech unnecessary.
Things finally came to a head one day. All three of us were playing ball. I had fumbled and dropped the ball so many times I started to giggle and laugh trying to make light of my inadequacies. Dad would stifle his sigh and James started giving me annoyed looks. Then James gave dad this look without words and they smiled. They began loping the ball back and forward to each other and then they got faster and faster until the ball looked like a little blur to me.
Without warning, James threw the ball at me as hard as he could, time slowed. During all that time, this little trickle of sadness had been building and building deep inside. It came to a head and bubbled forth as the spinning ball shot towards my unprotected face.
My eyes were staring at dad as my left, un-gloved hand caught the ball with a solid thwack and crushed it into pulp. James gasped and dad had a look of shock and guilt scribbled across his face.
Did I feel like I had achieved a great victory for catching a speeding ball? No.
Did I feel elated for crushing the ball? No.
I felt like stone, still and silent and strangely empty. I walked towards my dad, handed him the crushed ball and my glove and told him I understood that I am taking up time he and James spent together and I would never ask to play with the two of them again.
Abruptly turning away I walked into the house.
Mum was baking and saw me come in. She stared at me hard and asked what happened. I rolled my eyes at her and told her nothing was wrong. She didn't believe a word I said and this militaristic look appeared in her eyes. I hated that she could pick up when any of us were `not acting right' as she put it. She asked where dad was and I said outside with James. She wiped her hands on her apron and was just about to take it off when I begged her to leave it be. She stopped what she was doing and asked me why.
I stared at the floor. That stream of sadness bubbled up inside me again, with it, that strange sense of time slowing happened, and the words came from deep within my core.
`There is more to love in James than me. And that is how dad sees that and I am okay with that. He does love me and that is enough; it is not easy to love some one that will one day be very different to what he wants me to be. But I will show him my love my way every single day and one day he will see that too'.
With that I quietly went to my room, and stayed there with a pen and book in hand trying to create a fantasy world to escape to.
Little did I know that dad had come in and heard everything I said. Mums eyes were shiny with tears and she gave dad a hard look that said if he didn't deal with this, then their marriage was going to be in BIG trouble.
A little while later, dad came up and gave me the biggest hug I had ever remembered getting from him. He wasn't the cuddling or hugging type, except with mum. He said that was the most grown up thing he had ever heard from an 8 year old and he was ashamed of himself for not showing the love that he gave so freely to James. And if I could forgive him, he would like to do something that I liked to do, just him and me.
It started off a new relationship with us and eight years later, he and James still do their thing, but dad now has time to talk and ask how my day is and what I did, and to show his affection, I get hugs and kisses. James on the other hand doesn't mind being left out of the hugs and kisses; he thinks it's too girly. But it's perfectly fine by me.
Another interesting point after that was Gran gran started me on my training in tohunga. She said normally those with tohunga abilities didn't show signs until after puberty. But my words of wisdom and the way I crushed the ball without looking at it proved that I was starting earlier than normal. It was also the first time she told me about my other two cousins born in different parts of the country that had tohunga status. William, who was born in Christchurch, which was on the south island of New Zealand (NZ), Robin, who was born in the capital of NZ, Wellington, and me, born in the largest city of our country, Auckland, which was close to the north tip.. And I was the first born. Get this, we were all born a day after each other...cool huh!

Feedback appreciated contact me on monkurchakar@yahoo.com