Schoolie

Life in The Village, through the eyes of Tom Grant, the only teacher at the remote school.

This is an original work of pure fiction (just an expression of a fantasy)
(re-written from my 2013 version)

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?

[Author: posted from my hospital bed. Not COVID! Hope to be fully back on deck soon!]

 

From Chapter 45:

This is followed, almost immediately by a great splash of cold wetness upon our naked bodies. Will and I both jump and squeal in shock.

"It's always worked on the dogs," Marty laughs, "so I thought that I'd try it on you two animals!" He adds, "Now settle down and let me get some sleep!"

"Fucking hell!" Will retorts. Then he warns, "You'd better sleep with one eye open, Cousin. That's all I can say!"

"That'd be twice as much sleep as I'm getting at the moment!" Marty replies, and he retreats hastily. We hear his door close.

Will and I both needed a hot shower anyway!

There is hardly any residual wetness on the mattress as we had laid towels beneath us earlier. Marty couldn't have used more than a coffee mug full of water.

Sleep and dreams are sweet! Will isn't the only young guy who figures in mine. Memories. And, a fantasy or two!

 

 

Chapter 46 – In over my head!

The day has arrived. The horse, but first, the talk!

I haven't actually planned what to say, but it must be predominantly for Jake's benefit rather than Will's.

Breakfast done, Marty heads out of the door for town, brandishing my letter for young Andy, as if to reassure me that it's not forgotten. I'm not sure whether he's going to enjoy himself with both `him' and `her' this morning or if it's going to be a male-only, one-in-one experience. I chuckle to myself that Will and I have given him plenty of sounds to `excite his juices' over the past week, and especially last night.

Will disappears to pick up Jake and I decide to do a load of washing. I also gather a few things from Marty's bedroom floor to throw in, including a very damp, crumpled and pungent hand towel. Apparently, he couldn't hold off before getting into town this morning, especially after Will's stirring performance. Oh, well, getting himself off at least once, maybe more, (or perhaps, only one very `generous' release, judging by the wetness of the towel) probably helped him to drop off to sleep!

Everything's clean and tidy. I've decided to have the boys sit on the two corner lounges and I'll pull over a single chair from the dining table.

My car returns.

Will and Jake come in, somewhat more subdued than how I usually see the pair of them together. I can't quite tell from the expression on Jake's face whether he's expectantly excited or nervously fearful.

Jake opts for lemonade and I put the jug on for Will and me. Both boys disappear into our bedroom. It's very quiet!

I unexpectedly hear Jake yell, "Hey!" This is followed by Will making a flurried entrance to the living area, seeking immediate refuge on one of the lounge chairs, his `innocent' eyes cast heavenward.

Jake, in close pursuit, looks at me and blurts, by way of explanation, "He pinched me on the bum. Hard!"

Well, I think, at least that has broken the heaviness of the mood.

I reassure Jake, "Well, you can get even with him when I go up to your place for my riding lesson. He'll be all yours, for at least an hour! Maybe more."

Both boys look at me. Jake simply exhibits a cheesy, revengeful grin. Will raises and lowers his eyebrows expectantly. Sexy animal! Maybe Marty was right!

I indicate for Jake to take the other lounge. I give them their drinks, pull up a chair, turn it backwards and sit astride it, with my arms resting on the chair's back.

We all know what we're here for, so I plunge right in. "Jake, when was the last time that you watched two animals mating?" Nothing like breaking the thin ice with a sledge hammer! And I deliberately chose the word `watched' instead of `saw'.

"Um," he starts. "Yesterday afternoon." I say nothing. He breaks his silence with, "Two of the horses."

I add, "So, we don't need to cover the `birds and bees' stuff, do we? You know, what goes where." He nods his head. Will looks bemused.

I simplify it, perhaps somewhat crudely, "Males and females of all kinds were designed to do it just the way you watched the horses doing it: a hole and a pole." He nods again, but says nothing.

Will cuts in, "Animals are always doing it - horses, sheep, dogs, cattle..., "

"We're made exactly like that too," I put to them both. They nod. "So, what makes people different to animals?"

I'm expecting a smart-alec and crude response from Will. After all, Marty's told him that he's been acting just like another animal.

However, it's Jake who speaks, giving a sensible, considered answer. "I think that animals, especially the males, just seem to do it whenever they feel like it. People don't do that," he says candidly.

"So, do you think that there are times when people might feel like doing it, but can't?" I put to them both.

Will and Jake look at each other. It's Will who responds. "Well, you couldn't do it at school, or in front of your parents or friends or in the Acropolis café or places like that."

Jake adds, "And one person might feel like doing it but the other person might not want to."

"And, there are times when you can easily tell that a guy's body is ready to do it, but they may not be even thinking about it. Do you know what I mean?" I ask.

Will has some expertise here, from his observations of horses. "Sometimes a stallion's pizzle gets long and hard and there's not even a mare in sight. Often, actually!"

"Yeah," Jake giggles in semi-embarrassed concurrence.

"So, can I ask you, does yours ever get hard at the most inappropriate time, for no apparent reason, and embarrass you?" I have in mind, of course, Reg's recounting of Jake's tented pants while talking to the girl in Big Town.

"Every morning!" Will triumphantly announces. Then he turns to Jake and asks, "What about yours?"

Jake hesitantly, but maturely, replies, "Well, it would only be embarrassing if my parents or my sister saw it." Then he smiles wryly.

"It happens to all of us," I tell them. But, then, I don't need to explain that to Will, with his ever-dependable alarm cock. "It's natural, Jake," I continue, "when a guy's body is waking up: the heart pumps more blood around his body and some of it wakes up his sleeping sausage." They both laugh at my meaty allusion.

I add, "You know, sometimes, when we are scared, or nervous, or excited, the same thing happens - the heart beats faster and, bingo! Up it pops!"

More nervous merriment. Or is it just polite laughter at my attempted joke?

I fabricate the next bit for Jake's benefit. "I remember going to a high school dance when I was about 14. I wanted to ask an attractive girl to dance and I was really nervous about talking to her, thinking about holding her hand and having her body close to mine. And it happened! I tried to cover it but that only seemed to make it worse. One of my mates noticed and he stirred me for weeks after that."

"Did you ask the girl to dance?" Will asks, obviously enjoying my supposed re-lived embarrassment.

"No way!" I reply. "I had to go to the toilet until `things' calmed down!"

"What happened after that?" Will is intent on pushing the point.

"Not much," I reply. "But that was the night when I decided to swap from boxer shorts to tighter underpants so that any future `swellings' would be restrained more closely against my body."

I can see the wheels turning in Jake's mind.

"But, there's another whole side to the boy/girl thing," I say to them. "Animals don't seem to have any regard for the other one's feelings. However, people need to respect each other and follow the golden rule: do unto others as you would want others to do unto you."

The blank stares that I'm getting tell me that I've missed the mark!

"Have you ever heard anyone say, `it's better to give than receive'?" I put to them. An unintended bedtime meaning suddenly crosses my mind. I'm definitely not going there! Reg was right - this talk is harder than expected, an absolute minefield!

There are some non-committal nods. Maybe they're wondering where this is all going. I'm beginning to doubt its clarity myself. I'm thinking that I'm really struggling here!

"All I want to say is, as you get to know people better, especially girls, it's much wiser to do things for them than to expect them to do things for you. The happier you make them; the happier you'll be yourself." That sounds pretty lame, I think to myself. Now I know that I'm in way over my head!

I decide to cut to the chase! "Guys, there's more to a relationship than getting someone into bed and mating with them, you know!"

"Oh Yeah? Like what?" Will announces somewhat provocatively, for which he receives a strange, inquiring look from Jake which says, `Who are you?'

I am stunned.

I think: is that all that I really mean to Will? Have I become to him just a convenient sexual partner? What happened to the magnetism? Where did the love go? I still feel it for him, profoundly.

His perhaps-flippant, off-handed comment has unexpectedly hurt me, deeply. I feel my eyes mist up and I turn my face more towards Will, hoping that Jake doesn't notice my emotion.

Will stares at me and the smug smirk drains from his face.

Spinning around on the chair, I rise and say, "Excuse me guys, I need to go to the bathroom." The mistiness in my eyes becomes overflowing, silent tears.

As I'm about to close the bathroom door, behind me I hear Jake ask Will, "Did something just happen?"

The face that lives in the mirror appears somewhat older than I remember him, and far more melancholy.

I run the hot water, rinse out a face washer, and give myself a refreshing, hopefully restoring, once-over.

I decide to take a pee, while I'm here. Then, as I'm washing my hands, luxuriating in the comfort of the velvety soap and hot water, there is a tentative knock at the door.

"Yes?" I invite, without any emotion.

The door begins to open. Will sidles through the narrow opening then closes it behind him. I stare into his face, joylessly, as I towel my hands dry.

He looks at me then attempts to stifle a couple of serious sobs. He's hurt me and my reaction appears to have permeated his feelings as well. This is the exact opposite of what I wanted to convey to both boys today - to be kind to other people in thought, word and deed.

However, the pitiful sight of his genuine anguish is breaking my heart. I extend one arm to him invitingly.

He rushes to me, flings his arms around my neck and begins crying unrestrainedly on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around my still-immature little brother's beautiful and mature body as it convulses and I comfort him.

It seems a long time before any words are spoken.

"I'm sorry," Will begins. "Tom, I'm so sorry!" Then, by way of explanation he adds, "I didn't realise what I was saying. I was just trying to be funny. It was just one of those guy things!"

"Maybe I'm just too sensitive," I reply. "But you hurt me. Your words conveyed to me that you must think of me as an always-available fuck buddy and that we have become nothing more than just another pair of farm animals." I'm actually shocked at my own choice of words. I add, "I'm sure that's how Marty might think of us."

"Oh, Tom," Will sobs. "I didn't mean you and me. I'm sorry if I hurt you. The words just kinda slipped out. I used to hear the farm hands saying that there were only two things that a female was good for - one was cooking and the other was... you know. They used to joke about it all the time; slipping their cock into some `little filly'!"

"You mean a girl, not a horse, right?" I ask, recovering some composure and rubbing his back, trying to inject a little humour.

"Yeah, but once I saw one of the younger hands actually doing it with one of the smaller horses," Will replies. "He screamed at me when he saw me watching him. He called me a `fucking little perv' and I ran off."

"What did you think about that?" I ask him.

"Well, he seemed to be really enjoying himself before he saw me, and the horse was just standing there and didn't seem to mind at all," Will tells me.

There is a silence. "And...?" I prompt him. I can feel that there is more to be said.

"Well, I thought about trying it myself," he confesses. "But I never did. It just seemed... I don't know... it just didn't appeal to me and didn't seem right somehow."

"Many people think that two guys having sex is wrong too," I prompt for his reaction.

"But you and I both love it, and love doing it together. And we love each other. Is that wrong?" he replies.

"Some people think so. Not everyone is like Uncle Bill or my Mum and Dad, or Marty," I tell him. "I'm sure that there are many people around here who would not be at all happy if they found out about us. That's why we need to be very careful about what we say and do around people, even Jake."

"Yeah. I get it. Jake said that Uncle Reg would go berserk if he ever found out what him and me do sometimes, so we are always very careful at his place."

I ignore his bad English.

"OK. That's what I wanted to tell you and Jake... Be careful. Be respectful. Be restrained. Do you know what that means?"

"I guess so," Will replies. "You don't do stuff just whenever you feel like it."

"Or somebody may get hurt!" I add, looking at him and raising one admonishing eyebrow.

"Tom, I'm so very, very sorry that I hurt you. I didn't mean to," he delivers with genuine remorse, and wipes his eyes. Lesson learned. Then he adds, "You can punish me tonight, if you like!" He grins.

Happy mood restored, and I swat his firm, young tail as he heads for the door.

Jake knows that something happened, but he doesn't ask. He looks at Will and me, both smiling, and he noticeably relaxes. Will gives him another lemonade and I top up the coffees.

We settle back into our positions - they in their lounges and I in my counselling discomfort.

"Now, where were we?" I ask.

Jake replies, "It's OK, Mr Grant. I get it. You don't have to say any more. I do get embarrassed when it gets hard, especially if I'm talking to a girl, but I have learned something useful this morning."

I smile at him, comforting myself that I must not have been so bad after all.

Jake continues, "I think that I'll be changing my boxers to tighter underwear." He smirks.

I commend him on his `wisdom' and ask if he has any questions about `relationships' as opposed to just `poles and holes'. He laughs and says, "No, but thanks for asking. Can I come and ask you stuff if I need to? I could never talk to my dad about some things."

"Of course, you may, Jake," I encourage him. "But, don't think that your dad couldn't give you some good advice, too. In fact, I think that he would be very proud to share some father / son discussions with you."

"Yeah, I guess," Jake replies, hesitantly. "But it's easier to talk to you. Dad gets angry when I ask him `stupid' questions about anything."

"Jake, questions about relationships and growing up are never stupid," I encourage him. "If you like, talk to me first, and maybe I can feed you some simple questions for your dad. What do you think?"

"OK. Thanks, Mr Grant. Thanks heaps!" Then he adds, almost as an aside, "You are one cool schoolie! No wonder Will likes you so much!"

I give him a one-handed hug and ruffle his hair with my other hand. Boys seem to like that!

I finish my coffee and tell them, "OK, guys, I'll leave you two alone to have a bit of fun while I go and visit Reg."

Jake stares at me. "Mr Grant," he begins hesitantly. "Can I ask you one more question?"

I think, `Well, that didn't take long'. "Sure Jake, what would you like to know?"

"Mr Grant, is it true that you've never ridden a horse?" His question seems tinged with apologetic disbelief of what someone has obviously told him.

"Not exactly, Jake. But I'm sure that Will can fill you in on all the details while I'm away." I smile and he flashes me a white, toothy grin in return.

Will interjects with, "You won't believe it when I tell you, Jake!" I give him a filthy look then, after a short silence, we both burst into laughter at the reality and extent of my horsey experience.

 

Reg has a horse saddled and ready when I arrive. It's much smaller than I had imagined... and feared. Thank you, God!

Reg is in a good mood. I've never seen him so light-hearted previously. Perhaps he's anticipating some hysterical moments to use as life-long anecdotes. He doesn't ask about `the talk', and I don't raise the topic.

He treats me like a 5-year old and makes sure that I know which end of the horse that food go into and where things come out. I don't get the full equine anatomy lesson, but he is thorough on a need-to-know basis, including what horses like and what they don't.

He shows me the saddle, stirrups, bit and bridle but then switches to talking about `the steering wheel', the `accelerator' and the `brake' and he warns me about accidentally pressing the `accelerator'. He'd make a great school teacher!

He tells me that my first lesson is primarily about mounting, sitting and dismounting. Petting my new (four-legged) friend is included.

We practise at least a dozen times. He explains how to minimise the pain on the inside of my legs as they rest in such an unaccustomed position, assuming that I've never stretched them around another animal before.

I can't let on about riding my favourite young `animal', and just go with the flow.

He corrects my posture, even though I'm only sitting. He entrusts me with the reins and walks around. The horse follows him.

The lesson is short and uneventful. I dismount for the final time, pet the old girl and she nuzzles me as a sign of acceptance. Then she lets fly with a stream of yellowness.

"That's why it was important to get the ends right and where to stand, first up," Reg laughs. "Come into the house. Di has been cooking. Best to get in for your share before those two young locusts come back." It's only then that he asks, "How did the talk go?"

I confess to both him and Di that it was harder than I had anticipated, and that while I'm rarely lost for words, I certainly was earlier!

Reg responds with, "I know. After my brother died, Acacia asked me to talk to her three sons. Chad and Sean were fine. Marty was the hardest. He kept asking me relationship-type questions that were really awkward to answer. However, in the end, we concluded that the guys seemed to know almost as much as I did, anyway."

I wonder what kind of relationship questions Marty would have asked back then.

Reg adds, "I felt that I didn't want to go through that pain again, especially with my own son! Thanks, Tom, for getting me off the hook!"

He laughs at my shocked reaction.

"I've learned one thing today, Reg," I reply. "I won't want to be repeating this experience with my own children. I guess that I'd better get some unsuspecting schoolie to do it for me, too!"

He and Di both laugh. It's hard not to join them. I add, "Actually, I could avoid the whole situation altogether - by not having any children in the first place!" I think that it's never going to happen anyway!

Having enjoyed Reg and Di's hospitality and potentially doing extreme damage to my waist-line, rather than my backside, I head out.

"Hey, Tom," Reg hails me as I'm about to get into the car. "You did well! I think that we can turn you into a horseman without too much pain!"

"Thanks, Reg," I say. "It wasn't as bad as I had expected."

"If we take it slow and steady, you'll be fine, he encourages me. Don't be in a hurry. You'll get there!"

 

I arrive home, earlier than any of us had anticipated, thinking that I might `catch' the boys having a bit of fun. But, instead, alerted by the dogs, the car is greeted by the pair of them rushing out to greet me, in obviously pre-discussed expectation of watching a semi-invalid emerge.

They stop short of the car, nudging each other mirthfully and pointing towards me provocatively.

I decide not to disappoint them, calling upon my best acting skills to feign a bow-legged, arse-sore city slicker!

I emerge slowly, clinging to my car body and door for apparent support and I edge my way in their direction.

Their joy erupts in disdainful jibes.

"Do you need help to get inside, Mr Grant?" Jake asks, cheekily but politely.

"When you are able to step away from the car, you'd better just hand over the car keys!" Will adds.

Time for my fun!

"If you want them, you'll have to catch me first!" I tell him.

He and Jake look at each other.

"I'm not gonna crawl on all fours, you know, just to give you a sporting chance!" Will jokes, earning a high-five from Jake.

Will takes a step towards me and I straighten and step backwards.

His next two, measured paces are matched by my own movements, in reverse, away from him.

"You are joking, right?" Will says.

"Nope!" I reply. "You'll have to chase me if you want them." I then focus past him to Jake, and I smile.

Will's sudden movement triggers my own. I dash directly towards the high windmill and water tank next to the river, across the paddock.

I don't look back, but I can tell, intuitively, that the gap between us is widening.

"Hell, Yeah!" I hear, not from Will, but from Jake. He claps and hoots and is obviously enjoying the sport, like encouraging a dog after a rabbit. In this case, the rabbit is winning.

I reach the tank well ahead of my little brother. I turn to face him and lean on the stand much as Marty does on the bathroom door frame.

"What kept you?" I tease as he slows to a walk, panting slightly, approaching me cautiously lest I bolt away from him again. I hold the keys at arm's length for him to claim.

"How the hell could you run like that?" he asks in amazement. "Especially... after..." He's not quite sure how to describe his anticipated, horse-induced debilitation of my nether body.

I reply with, "Not everything is as it may first seem, you know, little brother!"

A thought crosses my mind, a feeling permeates my whole body. Impulsive, but necessary!

As he reaches for the keys, I snatch my hand back. He looks at me cautiously as if preparing himself for me to initiate another flight.

I tell him that I need the car for a while because "Something important has come up. I'll drop you both up to Thunungara then pick you up later."

He looks as though he is about to either argue the point or is wanting to pursue the reason why. But, perhaps reading something in my eyes, he meekly acknowledges, "OK."

We walk back together and are greeted by an enthusiastic Jake. "Nice work, Mr Grant! You're the only person that I've ever seen outrun William! Ever!"

"Thank you, Jake," I reply. Then I add, "I represented my school in 100m and 200m sprints. Looks as though I've still got it, eh?"

"But how could you run so fast after..., you know..., with the horse?" he asks, having witnessed my miraculous `recovery'.

"Ask your dad," I say to him. "He'll tell you all of the details." I smile at him and wink, and he realises that my acting aspirations, although not up to Oscar standards, are not to be quickly dismissed!

On the journey back to Jake's, I fill them in on my athletics career, medals and awards for other things. I add, "Nothing for horse riding though... yet!"

Subdued chuckles.

I tell them that I'll probably be an hour or more and, having dropped them off, I head back towards The Village.

About 500m before the school, I take the road north towards `Whispering Gums', crossing the river at an old, solid timber bridge, held together by huge bolts and nuts. Something from the last century. The cross-sections of the roughly-hewn beams are at least 30cm square. My crossing speed is 10km per hour but there seems no reason for any apprehension. I reckon that this bridge could withstand a force-5 cyclone. My car would be nothing more to the bridge's load than a mosquito would be to a water buffalo.

About 300m up the road there is a track which branches left, due west. I saw it from the helicopter - a well-defined trail at the road end, but, westwards, disappearing totally in the formless dirt plain. Its presence has troubled me and drawn me ever since. Why?

I pause to ponder my impending action.

I know what, last week, lay due west of this point!

My skin tingles.

It can't be back so soon, surely, so I count myself safe from the curse!

I want to know what else is out there. What holes? Any fence posts? Maybe some aboriginal artefacts? I have to know! Why? I have no idea why!

I check the digital compass on my phone. Due west. At least, when I return, I'll only have to travel due east to connect with the `Whispering Gums' road. Then I realise, Hey! I can just follow my tyre tracks back!

I drive.

I check the compass. Heading due west. How far?

I do some mental calculations on what I've heard at the pub and from what I saw from the helicopter. Perhaps I've already missed the site and the invisible building altogether. Ten minutes more and I'll turn back.

The ground is so dead flat and devoid of obstacles that I could probably take my hands off the steering wheel and nothing bad would happen. So, while still holding my foot on the accelerator, I fossick around for one of my favourite CDs, push it into the slot and then focus back in front of me.

What's that in the distance?

As I draw closer, I take my foot off the pedal and allow the car to slowly succumb to the friction between the tyres and the dirt until it slows to a stop.

The surrounding dust settles and my vision clears.

I stare.

It looks like a homestead.

But there are, supposedly, no buildings out here.

Except for...

But, that one would have disappeared after the helicopter crash claimed the curse's latest victim, wouldn't it?

Unless...

Nah!

 

(to be continued)

 

There is a parallel version to this story, told through the eyes of Kurt.
Find it at https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/kurt-series/

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