Kurt
Life in The
Village, through the eyes of a student at the remote school.
This is an
original work of pure fiction (just an expression of a fantasy)
by Robert A. Armstrong (a pseudonym)
The resemblance
of the characters by action, name, location or description to any real person
is purely coincidental.
If it is illegal,
or offensive, for you to read stories involving interactions of a sexual nature
between adults and youths, then what are you doing here?
From
Chapter 56:
After sneaking
into Karl's bed, and running my hand over his naked body, playing with his
hairs and his balls and getting his dick stiff, I'm surprised that he doesn't
want me to jack him off! "Just let's hug," he tells me.
He has something
serious on his mind! I can tell.
Chapter 57 – Karl's Mini Melt-Down
I roll onto my side facing him, slide one arm under
his neck and put the other one over his waist and rest it on his firm backside,
pulling our bodies close together. Our foreheads are touching and I can feel
his hot, forced breath on my face.
"What's up, Karl?" I ask caringly, with genuine, increasing
concern.
I'm expecting his usual, non-committal `Nothing!', but
am shocked when he rasps in a whisper, "Everything!"
Against my body, I can tell that his penis has lost
its erection, and I immediately know that he is not play-acting nor just
seeking sympathy.
I understand that Dad might have been a bit hard on
him today, but where did `Everything!' come from?
I'm tempted to ask `Like what?' or say, `Don't be
stupid!' but I'm afraid of making whatever he is feeling, worse.
Instead, I ask, "Can we talk about it?"
He sobs, "I don't know."
I wait.
I hug him tightly, squeeze his `nice glutes' and kiss
his cheek. His face is wet, and I feel my own eyes fill up.
"Is it Dad?" I ask him.
He nods and mumbles "Uh-huh." Then I feel him inhale
deeply and, in one breath, he says, "And Helen, and William, and Joey, and
you." He adds, "And me."
His final words cause my heart to shiver. I hold back
a shocked `WHAT?' and determine that I should ease into how the others and I could
possibly have upset him. And to find out what his `And me' means.
"Was Dad really hard on you this morning?" I ask.
"Yes," is his sharp reply, sounding like a little kid
with a pout.
My first temptation is to ask Karl what he said or did
to cause Dad's severe treatment of him, but accusing my brother of setting off Dad's
harshness certainly won't help.
"How come?" I put to him.
"I think that he hates me," Karl says. His voice has
an unusually bitter tone.
I know that what he has said is not true, and I'm sure
that Karl really knows it too, but I shouldn't contradict him. In his current
mood, he might hate me too, for `taking Dad's side'!
I definitely don't want him to think that I hate him.
"Did he hit you?" I ask.
"No."
"Did he yell at you?"
"Not really."
"Was it something he said?"
"He called me a `slacker' and said that I should try
to be more helpful," Karl answers. "Like you!"
"That's pretty cruel," I say. "Why would he say that?"
"Because it's true," Karl tells me. "You're always
offering to help people do things, and saying nice things to them, and being
helpful. You always make me look bad."
"I like helping people," I tell him. "I don't want you
to look bad. You're not bad! Would you like me to stop being nice, and to stop
being helpful? I will, if you want me to."
"No, not really," he mutters. Then he adds, miserably,
"I just wish that I was more like you. Then, everybody would like me too."
"People do like you!" I tell him.
"Yeah? Who, for instance?" he snaps back at me.
"Me," I say. "I like you. You're the other half of me.
I wouldn't be me without you. I more than just like you; I love you, brother!"
"There you go again," Karl says. "Being nice. You mean
that you love my dick and my balls!"
He's weakening!
"Yes, I do! And your hairs and your backside, and the
way you wash me in the shower and jack me off. And your smile." I give his
glutes a squeeze. I grin, even though he can't see it.
"Well, I like all that about you, too," he says,
taking hold of Junior and my balls.
I let him play, and Junior's renewing stiffness expresses
that it likes Karl's hand too.
Then, to switch the subject a little, I say, "And
William likes you."
"Yeah. But he'll be going away at the end of the year,
when he finishes school," Karl says. "Then, who will I have?"
"Me," I answer.
I hadn't actually thought about William leaving school
soon, and what he would do. I wonder how much this realisation has affected
Karl.
"Yes, but who else would I have to muck around with?"
Karl says. "It's all right for you. You could play with Mr Grant, and you also
have Andy."
"Well, you can be friends with Joey," I answer. "Maybe
he would like to come and visit you, just like Andy wants to be with me."
"Joey has a girlfriend," Karl says. "He told me."
"Well, you might find lots of new friends when the
Home Stay people come," I say, trying to inject some encouraging possibilities
into Karl's mind.
"As if!" he answers. "What would I say to somebody?
`Pleased to meet you, mate. Do you want to come with me and see the possums
tonight and we can wank each other off in the dark?' I could end up with a
black eye, and they would tell Dad what I said, and then I'd be in deeper shit."
"You never know who might come to stay!" I answer. "If
there was somebody that you took a liking to, you could always offer to take him
horse riding or go out with the quad bikes, and show him the swimming hole, and
`dare' the both of you to swim naked, and see how he responds."
Karl is silent, obviously thinking. The possibility of
him making new friends, and not necessarily the `girlfriends' which Dad had suggested,
may not actually have occurred to him.
"You reckon?" he mutters.
The changed tone in his voice is cheering me up. But I
still want to know about two things that he mentioned.
Even though there is the possibility of causing him to
become negative again, I want to hear what the other things are that are bugging
him.
"Karl, why did you include Helen when you told me that
people didn't like you?" I put to him as gently as I can.
"She ignores me," he answers.
"Are you sure about that?" I ask. "I hadn't noticed
her ignoring you. What do you mean?"
"OK, she talks to you and me together, and to you by
yourself, but she never talks just to me. To her, it's almost like I don't
exist. Or that I don't need to."
With a word in the `right ear', his perception that
Helen doesn't ever talk to him might be quickly fixed.
"Karl," I ask him, very lovingly, and holding him
tightly, "What do you mean, you `don't need to exist'? Are you thinking of hurting
yourself? Please tell me that you're not!"
Just the thought of my brother doing something to harm
himself, because he thinks that he is not loved, or not `needed', and to either
punish himself or to get people's attention, causes me to start crying,
silently at first, and then with deep sobs.
"What?" he asks. "No, I'm not thinking of hurting
myself, but I may as well be invisible. If people don't talk to me, and do
nothing but criticise everything that I do, what's the point of trying?"
"I thought that you were going to hurt yourself today,
on the quad bike," I tell him. "And, the thought of you being hurt, whether
deliberately or by accident, really upset me."
He is silent.
I can tell that his attitude is becoming more positive
when he hugs me tightly.
He says, "Well, you still make me look bad, and Dad is
picky about whatever I do, and Helen still ignores me."
"Do you want to
change all of that?" I put to him.
"Yeah? How?" he comments. It sounds more like
disbelief than a real question.
"Maybe I can help," I say.
"See!" he tells me. "This is you being helpful!"
I ignore his comment.
"Let's start with me," I tell him.
His silence means that he is listening.
"What would happen if YOU offered to be helpful, or
said something nice to Dad or Helen?" I ask.
"They'd have a heart attack, or check our eyebrows to
make sure that it wasn't you!" he answers.
"It would be fun though, wouldn't it, to see their
reaction?" I tell him, tickling his ribs.
"Hell, Yeah!" he almost
whispers.
I'm winning him over!
"What could you offer to do?" I put to him.
"Something easy," he replies. "But, what would that
be?"
"Maybe to check the chicken coop for some eggs?" I
suggest.
"I could offer to make them both a cup of coffee," he
tells me, then adds, "Before you do!"
"Let's start with that then," I reply, and hug him.
I reach between his legs and his erection quickly
returns.
"You're right. I do like your balls," I tell him. I
hope that he can hear the smile in my voice.
"Yeah. And my dick!" he responds. "Come on! Let's get
on with it! That's one more thing that you're good at!"
After an anxious and restless night's sleep back in my
own bed, I hear the bathroom door close. It's early. I haven't heard the
rooster yet, even though the dawn light is making things visible. Just.
I slip my PJ pants on, venture out and wait near the
bathroom door, for whoever it is, Dad or Helen.
Dad emerges. I'm glad that it's him.
He is surprised to see me. "Do you need to go too?" he
asks, holding the door open.
I shake my head. "Can we talk? In the loungeroom?"
"Is everything all right, son?" he asks.
I shake my head again and indicate for him to follow
me.
I feel overdressed. We never used to worry about
walking around naked at home, but it's different now that we have Helen around
the place. I feel the need to cover my own growing body in case I run into her,
but Dad has had no reason to put anything on, especially for the purpose of
taking a pee.
I sit on the big lounge. Dad, instead of sitting
beside me, sits on one of the other chairs, next to the big lounge, so that we
can see each other's face. Our knees are touching.
His face is not all that I can see. My Dad has an
attractive body, but I try not to focus on it, except to think that I hope to
look like him when I grow up. If my dick is `Junior', then his is definitely `Senior'.
I don't dwell on it because I don't want Junior to wake up!
I focus on Dad's face, avoiding his lower body, and concentrate
on Karl's situation.
"Dad," I start. "Do you remember the last time that we
had a discussion privately, like this?"
"Yes," he responds. "That was after I insulted your
brother, and you were concerned for him. What is it this time?"
"Same person. Same problem," I say. "Only this time I
think that it's much more serious."
"Why? What's up now?" he says. His tone sounds a
little more impatient than caring.
"He's upset Dad," I reply. "Genuinely upset. And he's
not faking it. I spent a lot of time with him last night."
"What's got under his skin?" Dad asks, a little more
interested. "Me, I suppose?"
I look at him squarely in the eyes and say, "And me,
and Helen, and lots of other stuff."
Dad sits forward, his forehead showing the beginning
of a frown. A concerned frown; not an angry one.
"What are you saying?" he asks. "I understand why he's
pissed off at me, but what has Karl got against you and Helen?"
I explain everything that Karl told me. Dad's
expression changes to disbelief and worry.
"What do you reckon we should do?" Dad asks.
"Do you trust me?" I put to him.
"Of course!" he answers.
"Well, if you let me work on him from my side," I
reply, "can you please just acknowledge whatever he does, or offers to do?
However small?"
He is in the process of agreeing, when Helen emerges,
and sits next to me. Thankfully, she is wearing a dressing gown!
"What's up?" she asks. "I heard voices and wondered
why. It's still very early.
I again explain Karl's emotional attitude, including
his perception that Helen never speaks to him and that he thinks that he may as
well `not exist'.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologises, to Dad as well as
to me. "I had no idea that I was ignoring him. What can I do?"
"Just talk to him," I suggest. "And, if he offers to
do anything for you, please let him do it and then thank him."
"Of course!" she says, and repeats, "It was never my
intention to ignore him or not to speak to him. He must be devastated."
Sounding to myself more like an adult than a teenager,
I say, "I think that we can all help him feel like a valued member of the
family again. I'll do my bit if you both do yours."
Dad and Helen agree, and then I tell them that I still
have a bit of sleep to catch up on. We hug, and I go back to my room.
I snuggle into my bed and close my eyes.
I hear the rooster crow.
Not more than a minute later, I hear, "Bloody
rooster!" And I know that Karl is awake. Or at least, his bladder is.
I listen for the toilet to flush.
Instead of going back to his own bed, Karl joins me.
PJs on.
He looks as though he's going to drop them, so I say,
"Better not! I heard Helen's voice not long ago. I think that she might be up."
He slides in alongside me. He reaches for my hand and
places it on the front of his pyjamas. "You can get ME up, if you like," he
says.
"Don't you want to save it for William?" I ask,
turning and smiling at him.
"I've got plenty for him. Don't worry," he answers,
grinning back.
However, we settle into just holding each other and
feeling our dicks get chunky, then firm.
"I've been thinking," Karl says, while running his fingers
around Junior and playing with my balls and hairs, having found his way inside
my pyjamas. "What if I cook breakfast? I do know how to do bacon and eggs! Remember?"
"Do you need any..." I begin.
"NO!" he jumps in. "Let me do it. Please?"
"OK. I tell him. "I'll stay in bed, so breakfast is
all yours."
"Thanks." He replies, removes his hand and,
surprisingly, kisses me. Then he leaves.
I listen intently.
I mentally check off every noise that I hear as part
of the cooking-breakfast process. It's difficult not to go and help him.
I hear mugs clanking and know that he's making coffee.
I can even tell the sound of the toaster popping.
"Breakfast!" I hear him call. "It's on the table." And
he bangs a pot lid.
Pyjama top on, I wander out at just after Dad and
Helen from the other side.
Karl, with his back to us, is putting two plates onto
the table.
"Thank you very much, son," Dad chirps, probably thinking
that it's my backside that he's seeing. His pyjamas are identical to what I was
wearing earlier.
Then, looking across, he notices me. I point at my
brother, and mouth `It's Karl'.
Helen speaks up. "Why, thank you Karl. This is very
thoughtful of you."
"And I left your eggs half-soft," he says, turning to
face her. "Just the way that I know you like them."
Helen moves toward him and grabs him in a big, cuddly
hug. "You are a wonderful young man!" she half-sings. "Thank you very much."
Karl glances at me over her shoulder. He is beaming!
Dad puts his arm around my brother's shoulders and
ruffles his hair. "Nice work, buddy. Thank you."
At the end of the meal, Karl starts to clear away.
"Oh, no you don't!" Helen says.
Karl looks shocked. He needn't be.
"The cook should not have to clean up afterwards," she
smiles at him. "Your father was just about to volunteer to do that."
Karl thinks that is hilarious. He smirks at Dad, then
grins at me.
Dad is less impressed, but manages, "That's fair."
Then looking at Karl, he says, "Mate, if I don't do as good a job as you do,
I'm in big trouble!"
"Well, I'd better go out and collect some more eggs,"
Karl announces. "You wanna help me, Kurt?" he asks.
As I follow Karl out of the door, I turn, grin and
give both Dad and Helen a `thumbs up'.
I catch up with Karl, put my hands on his shoulders
and leverage myself up into the air.
"How are you feeling?" I ask, as I land on the ground
behind him.
"Pretty good," he replies. Then he turns around, hugs
me and says, "Thanks!"
For the rest of the day, waiting for Mr Grant and
William to arrive, Karl is just as positive. He offers to do little things,
like setting the table, and is rewarded by both compliments and discussions
with Helen. One of which, that I catch, is about his horse-riding ability and
whether he is better than I am. I'll bet that Karl's aura, if I could see it,
would be glowing!
Then, while Karl is sorting out some clothes to take
to Jintabudjaree for the week, I corner Dad and ask, "Do you notice a
difference in him?"
"Absolutely!" Dad replies. "I didn't think that such
little things could produce such a positive response. Thank you."
"One thing that I thought of," I ask, "is, whether Karl
can be given a specific responsibility around here? Not just a job, but
something to be responsible for. Something that he likes."
Dad asks, "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," I tell him. "What about the horses? You
know them better than I do. What about their shoes? You know, shoeing them,
which you've already taught him to do, and whatever else needs to be done. It's
something that Karl would like to do, and be good at. You could teach him other
stuff, couldn't you? And compliment him for how well he's doing. Maybe even
getting the horses in and saddling them for the Home Stay guests. Perhaps even
teaching them how to ride, rub them down, muck out the stalls. Whatever!"
"You have a wise, old head in that young body of
yours!" he tells me. He grabs me in a head lock and ruffles my hair.
If it was Ron, or Andy, or Mr Grant, I'd playfully grab
his balls! LOL.
"Apart from me," Dad says, grinning, and turning me
loose, "Who are the two people around here who know the most about horses?"
"I don't know," I tell him. "Maybe William. Who else?"
"Reg O'Brien," Dad answers. "He was a champion rider
when he was younger, and I hear that everyone in the district goes to him if they
have any horse questions."
"You mean Jake's father?" I ask.
"Yes. The same," Dad tells me. "You've given me a
terrific idea to work on. I'll probably see Reg in The Village tomorrow when
they move our old house. I'll talk to him about it. In the meantime, thank you
for looking out for Karl."
"Hey!" I answer. "Isn't that what a twin brother is
for?"
He attempts to headlock me again, but I escape!
It's Helen's idea that Karl and William go horse
riding together. They are both delighted.
That leaves Helen, Dad, Mr Grant and me to chat. One
of the topics of conversation is Karl's mini-meltdown.
Mr Grant tells my Dad, "It's
common for some people to experience mood swings. High one day; low the next.
Sometimes it's nothing more than what they have eaten. However, it might be
more serious. I'll keep a close eye on him for you, Jan."
"Me too," I add. "I was scared yesterday that he might
have wanted to deliberately hurt himself."
"Should you let William know about it?" Helen asks Mr
Grant.
"I'll probably only ask him to let me know if he sees
that Karl, or Kurt for that matter, is upset about anything," Mr Grant answers.
"Maybe I'll say that they might be missing their Dad,
or something."
"You're a smart man, Tom," my Dad
tells him. "I'm glad that my boys have you as their teacher."
I think to myself, `So am I!'
Karl and William come back `glowing'. I can guess why!
Karl enjoys being jerked off, and he loves playing with William's big dick too.
When it's time to leave, I remind Helen, "Next week, Goldilocks
and the seven dwarfs!"
"It was Snow White, actually," Mr Grant tells me. "Or
the three bears, if you look at it the other way."
"Got it!" I tell him. "Three bears and the seven
dwarfs!"
Everybody laughs, and Helen briefly explains about her
twisted fairy tales.
"You should have heard her `Goldilocks in Sherwood
Forest'! Karl says. "It was terrific."
I add, "And her `Goldilocks and the Pirates'. I loved
that one."
Mr Grant says, "Maybe you would like to tell some
stories to the little kids at school sometime. They would probably appreciate
listening to someone else occasionally."
"Yeah," Karl says. "Instead of Jane."
William and Karl high-five.
Monday morning. We are up early. Not just our dicks.
Today we are going to see our old house moved! I can
hardly wait!
We get to school a little earlier than usual, and
there are already lots of cars and trucks parked around the pub. Some belong to
parents of the little kids. I see Jake and Jane and their dad.
Mr Grant asks us to bring out the chairs, like we did
for the parents when we had the helicopter rides. Only, this time, they are for
us.
In between singing, drawing, reciting tables and
listening to a story about the early explorers, we see, and watch the huge
truck with many axles and wheels back up, very slowly, under the house which
has been raised by jacks, like what Dad uses to change a tyre, only much
bigger.
Marty O'Brien and Mr Cook, Ash, are standing where the
truck driver can see their signals for reversing.
The truck movement is slow, deliberate and accurate.
Ash, Marty and the truck driver all inspect its
position. After a few small adjustments, other men come and the jacks are
lowered, very gradually, step by step, and all at the same time.
There are lots of `oohs' and `aahs' from us as the
truck sags under the weight of the house.
The driver inspects his `load' again, and then gives
the `thumbs up' to Ash, who seems to be in charge. He starts the truck.
We see the house move. A little. Hardly noticeable,
but definitely. It looks a lot smaller on the back of the truck.
There is a huge cheer, and applause from all of the
people standing outside the pub. We kids all jump up
and down and cheer as well!
The truck moves very slowly along a track that has
been graded specially, directly from the house's old position to the piers at its
new site. The truck will won't have to make any turns.
It takes more than an hour to crawl a distance that I
could run in a couple of minutes.
When the truck, and house, are in position, everybody
takes a break. Including us.
Little Eric dashes towards the boys' toilet with older
brother, David, close behind him.
William, Jake, Karl and I stroll more leisurely in the
same direction.
As we near the entrance, Eric and David emerge. Eric
is holding the front of his shorts and looking distressed.
"What's up, little man?" William asks him, crouching
to meet him face to face.
David explains, "He didn't quite make it in time. We
didn't take a break at the usual time and he couldn't hold on."
William taps Eric's hands and says, "Show me."
Eric removes his hands to reveal a wet patch, not
huge, but embarrassing nevertheless.
A pair of kookaburras laugh raucously from a nearby
gum tree. Their timing is unfortunate and little Eric's brave but quivering
chin gives way to a flood of tears.
"Wait here with David," William tells him. "I'll be
back in a minute. Oh, and face the sun. That way the girls won't see you...crying."
William hurries back towards the school building. Eric
and David walk towards the wire fence. Jake, Karl and I head into the toilet.
The three of us pull the tops of our shorts down and
let fly. Jake's is like a fire hose! I look down. He has a big one and lots of
hairs, like Marty, and William. Jake turns his head, looks at mine, then at my
face, and winks. No words are spoken.
As we go out, William returns with something grey in
his hand. He unfolds a pair of school shorts. "These look about the same size
as yours," he tells Eric. "David, can you please help your brother to put these
on and then give me the wet ones.
The two brothers go back into the toilet, then emerge
together. William takes the wet shorts and hangs them over the top strand of
wire. "They'll be dry by lunch time," he says to Eric, "and then you can swap
back. Nobody should be able to tell that anything was wrong. Next time that you
need to go, just ask Mr Grant, or me. OK?"
Little Eric captures William's legs in a hug. "Thank
you, William," he says through a grateful smile.
William heads into the toilet. Jake goes back in with
him. Just to talk?
Karl and I follow Eric and David towards the school
building.
Karl sits on the verandah to wait for the other two. I
head back out towards the front gate. Marty is talking to Mr Grant. I stand a
little apart from them so that they don't think I am listening to what they are
saying.
Ash, heading in our direction, stops to talk to me
over the fence.
He extends his hand and I shake it. Then, tickling his
palm, I ask, "Ash, what did it mean when you did this to me?
He looks stunned, and stares at me, sheepishly. His
neck and cheeks look as though they are getting red.
I ask, "Were you asking me if I wanted to have sex
with you?"
(to be continued)
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The parallel
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concluded.
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