Now Am I In Arden
A story by Ivor Sukwell and Kyle McKenzie. A story about a boy and a man with all that such entails. The setting is modern and based around the theatre. Not your thing? Sorry about that, we're sure you'll find something that is. Whatever your choice, please remember Nifty needs your donations.
Now Am I In Arden
Chapter twenty-one
"I know it's almost going beyond the actual Folio script," I said, enthused by my idea and not noticing Brat's reservations, though had I been less taken up by what seemed to me to be almost a stroke of genius I would surely have spotted the doubtful look in his green eyes, "But Will always put in comedy of a sort somewhere because that's what his groundlings wanted. We can get some real and not too cheap laughs out of this, and not lose sight of the play's meaning."
"And," I grinned, "Caramel Paul is quite a decent lad and he does have some talent. I know you get on well enough with him; I've seen you sneaking him the odd ciggie now and again," I smiled.
"You said get to know him," I told him huffily, and instantly regretted it. For months I had been trying to encourage him to think about getting a younger boy once I got too old and insisting he shouldn't feel guilty. Now he was doing just that and I was in a mood!
"Of course Rich," I added quickly. "He's the best of the kids from that stage school so you should find him something better to do."
I took Paul straight to Personnel where that sweet lady gave him a contract to sign. He looked astonished when he realised he was going to be paid, in truth it was a mere pittance, just basic Equity, but it must have seemed a fortune to a boy of his age.
Then, the moment I could find a spot where I didn't have a call, I grabbed my Brat and Caramel Paul, found an empty room and went through Ariel's entrances, exits and blocking.
"He's yours now for the next hour," I told Brat, "Work his balls off if you have to, but improvise a way to mimic all your moves without looking silly." And, if a few hours of doing that didn't give Brat the chance to explore inside Caramel Paul's tiny shorts then he wasn't the boy I thought he was.
Of course, I was asking Brat to do work that I or an assistant director ought to have been doing, but I ignored that simply because I wanted the boys to spend time alone together.
I felt that young Caramel Paul had enough of an instinctive sense of movement to understand what was required and I could take over once he'd got a grasp of the basics.
There was also the problem of his hours to deal with, but that sweet lady in Personnel came up with a solution. "Hours only count when he's actually on a call here," she explained, "What he gets up to in his free time is nothing to do with anyone."
That solved two problems; Caramel Paul could work with Brat as much as was needed, provided that they did that work not in the theatre and not as an official call, and Brat could stay in the cottage, as he usually did, when not on a call himself, and with Caramel Paul there would find plenty of time to work on improvising the boy's attendance on Ariel and, hopefully, find enough spare time to do a different sort of improvising as well.
"That's it Paul, don't just copy me exactly. Do your own thing, similar but different, get it?"
Paul did get it. I wanted us to be like two waves in the sea or two trees moving in the wind, moving in the same direction but distinct and different like we were together and separate at the same time.
In truth I didn't really need to give Paul direction. He was a better dancer than me, moving with a natural ease and grace which made him mesmerising to watch. I could see a bit of myself in him in those moments, his face hazy as he danced and he lost himself in the movement and the music. It was how I felt when I was on stage, a being slipped into another place, and it was clearly when he was happiest.
I had got closer to Paul over the last few weeks, and he had slowly opened up about his shitty home life until he got taken into care, and the bullying he had suffered at school. He definitely needed a man like Mr Williams, and that knowledge made it easier for me to reconcile Rich's attraction to him.
"So I'm part of you but separate?" I nodded as Paul asked the question, smiling encouragingly.
He could be nervous and shy, but one on one he was opening up more.
"Exactly," I told him, straightening his arms as he posed so his body was positioned in the right way. "Remember you play a part with your body, not just your mouth." I told him, my hands lingering on his torso. "Sometimes the way you move is even more important than the way you speak, it tells the audience more about you or tells the audience things you can't say out loud."
Did Paul tremble in excitement as I touched him? He gave me a shy smile and I didn't take my hands from him.
The boys had a good ten days before I would need to make a call for the banquet scene, and meanwhile rehearsals continued to keep me bewildered as all proceeded without hitch or complaint.
I did ask Brat how things were going with Caramel Paul and he gave me an odd look and said he thought that the boy was going to be all I could ask for, and that in another couple of days they would be in a position to show me what they had worked on and I would be able to take it from there and develop it into the show properly.
I couldn't help wondering if the show was the only thing they had been working on, but decided that now was not the right time to probe. Brat would, I was sure, tell me if anything of that nature had taken place.
"Do you think Mr Williams will like it?"
We had finished rehearsing for the morning, and had taken a break in the nearby park, and I couldn't help but smile at the nervousness in Paul's voice.
"He's alright when you
get to know him." Paul, who was terrified of Rich, didn't look so sure, and I
put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. "He's just well into his
Shakespeare, so as long as what we do is good, he'll love it."
And I was sure Rich would love it. Paul and I had managed to synchronise our
movements in the scenes, giving the impression we were two parts of the same
whole, and I was sure Rich would like the way it made us look even more other
worldly.
Paul smiled again and I left my hand on his shoulder. He had confided in me that the bullying had started after he told someone he thought was his friend, that he fancied boys., and as we walked back to the rehearsal space, I moved my hand from his near shoulder to the far one so my arm was draped around his neck.
"So what are we doing
now?" Paul had his script out and staring at is as I approached. We were in the
privacy of the rehearsal room, the door locked, and he started in surprise as I
took the book from his hands.
Instinctively he stood up, his mouth opening and closing as I stood closer, the
top of his head coming up to my chin.
"Don't be scared," I
stroked his face, feeling him shiver and enjoying the softness of his skin. His
mouth opened and closed again, clearly in shock, and I put my mouth to his and
was rewarded with an "mmmmmmpppppphhh" of surprise.
My arm pulled him in close, just holding him to reassure him until his surprise
left him, and, as he melted into my arms, I felt his tongue make its way shyly
into my mouth.
The first call for
the banquet scene, not a very important scene unless you read the Tempest as I
was reading it, the way I was convinced Shakespeare had meant it to be read,
and then it becomes very important indeed. It becomes, simply, the moment when
those who are thinking realise that the island is real, and that everything
else mere appearance.
I hadn't even run through the blockings with the cast, though, of course,
harridan Delgard had the basics so she could choreograph her toads.
The boys didn't
need blockings, they'd worked things out for themselves and the results were
amazing! Even in a simple blocking walk through I could tell that the scene
would have even more magic about it than I had ever hoped for!
I had to make some small changes here and there to go with toad dances but they
were so few it hardly mattered.
"Wonderful, boys," I enthused when we'd finished, "Simply wonderful.:
Paul and I shared grin.
"Praise indeed, Lord,"
I gave Rich a pretend bow and Paul giggled behind me.
Since the kiss, he had become my constant companion, and he followed my lead
and offered a little bow of his own.
"He really liked it!"
Paul was practically bouncing off the walls once we were back in the dressing
room; as I was still sixteen and Paul only thirteen we had to have a dressing
room of our own and that meant Paul could bounce and I had to calm him. I
gathered him into my arms and we shared a long kiss.
He moaned and writhed as our tongues danced, his body getting to know more of
the excitement of enjoying another boy, and I took one of his buttocks in my
left hand and squeezed it, released it, slapped it gently, which elicited a
muffled moan into my mouth, so I squeezed again.
"You taste so fucking good," Paul giggled and my hand moved from his behind to the front of his shorts, slipping inside and finding his small, hard cock. He was only about three, thin inches, but the cry he made as my fingers rubbed it forced me to clamp my mouth back on his to keep him quiet.
"Fuck! Where did you
learn to do that?"
Paul was panting on the floor of our dressing room, utterly drained after
experiencing his first sixty-nine. He had taken a lot of my cock, more than I
had expected, and the feel of his virgin mouth on my own dick had been more
than just enjoyable. He took and swallowed my spunk as though it was the most
natural and obvious thing to do; I'd had to make myself do that my first time,
but Paul just gulped it down without a hint of hesitation.
But out of the two of us it was Paul who had enjoyed it more. As he kept
telling me, he had never felt anything like it, the experience of sucking and
being sucked at the same time almost too intense for him. He had already been
moaning and panting around my cock when I had just been sucking him, and the
feeling of one of my fingers inside his hole had taken him over the edge.
"I'll tell you, but
you got to promise not to say a word."
Paul looked offended that I would even ask and I drew him in close for a snog
to seal his silence.
"Rich taught me." His eyes went wide at that, and I nodded my head when he asked me if it was really true.
"Yeah, he taught me. I
told you he's okay when you get to know him."
Paul looked amazed at the idea of curmudgeonly old Mr Williams having any fun
and I laughed aloud.
"He taught me everything, mate. If you want to have some real fun you should hook up with him."
"No way!" Paul clearly thought I was joking and I kissed him again.
"It's so much better with a guy his age, they know how to make you feel incredible." Not really the truth, Rich had known less than Paul did now when I first met him, but if I was going to get them together, I had to be a bit creative. And now Mr Williams did always make me feel incredible, so that bit was true at least.
"Seriously, he's got his eye on you already; he's always saying how much he likes your legs. When we get to opening night there will be a party and he'll be so bored. So you make sure you tell him you want to talk to him in private, and when you're alone you give him a kiss. He'll do the rest."