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)
by Robert A. Armstrong (a pseudonym)
(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?
From Chapter 7
We order coffee and I add a custard tart - one of my many
weaknesses. I'm half way through it when I look up to see a police officer walk
in and stand by our table. He looks directly at me and asks, "Excuse me sir,
are you Thomas Grant?"
"Yes, sir." I answer.
"Could I please have a word, Mr Grant – outside," he states
sternly.
I look at Marty who shrugs then, laying down my half-eaten pastry,
I get up nervously and follow.
My heart is pounding as a dozen scenarios race through my mind,
foremost of which are those involving me and Will.
Chapter
8 – Poison
I cannot comprehend that I've been targeted by the police on my
first trip to Big Town. How did the officer know who I was? And how did he know
I was here? And what exactly is it that I've been `busted' for?
The police officer removes his hat with his right hand and then
tucks it under his left arm. He wipes his brow and then stares at me; no,
glares at me.
With the potential consequences of `mucking around' with one of my
students, actually maybe two or three, pulsing through my head, I come close to
pissing myself for the first time since I was two years old. His glare softens,
turns into a smirk and then he bursts out laughing.
I fail to see any humour in this! Then he extends his right hand
and says, "Chad O'Brien. Welcome to Big Town."
Marty's fucking brother! Marty has somehow tipped Chad off! Wait
till I get my hands on his low-hanging balls! The bastard!
Chad and I go back inside. Marty is cackling with excitement at my
expense. He has difficulty in catching his breath to speak, "Sorry Tom. The
look on your face was priceless."
Chad slides in next to Marty, opposite me. Now I can see the
family resemblance. In fact, Chad is basically a slightly older version of
Marty. And handsome. And no wedding ring.
It's hard to remain annoyed when I have a double dose of that
incredible smile beaming at me from across the table.
Still coming down from my hyperventilation, I say, "Now I know why
your Mum throws things at you, Marty! Do you know that my heart nearly stopped,
wondering what on earth I had done, or whether something had happened to my
parents?"
"Sorry, Tom. No problem, though. Chad's a trained paramedic as
well."
Very funny!
At this point, another man in uniform walks in and heads for our
booth. The insignia on his shoulder identifies him as an ambulance officer - a
real paramedic. Chad introduces their older brother, Sean.
"Pleased to meet you, Tom," Sean says. "I hope Marty's practical
joke wasn't too harsh!"
So, everyone in the family knew about it! I even wonder whether
Will was in on the prank. I comment to Sean that I am pleased to have an
ambulance officer present, and that he was almost needed a few minutes ago.
Everybody laughs again, at my expense, and I begin to warm to the
humour of it all... now.
If they only knew what I was afraid then, of having exposed!
Sean slides in next to me. We chat for a while about their Mum and
Anna and how pleasant life has been for the brothers in town, `away from it
all'.
At Chad's suggestion, I swap cell phone (I prefer `mobile')
numbers with both him and Sean.
Chad reaches across the table, lays his large policeman's hand
over mine and tells me that if I'm ever in any kind of trouble, to call him and
he'll sort it out.
"Seriously, Tom... ANYTHING," he emphasises.
As he and Sean get up to go back to work, Chad suddenly stops and
stares at me. I know that expression on his face!
Then I hear those words. "You look sort of familiar," he says.
"I'd better check the `Wanted' posters."
Marty and I look at each other and laugh.
Having finished our coffees, we head back towards the grocery
store, passing a men's wear emporium. Viewing the well-attired, ageless
mannequins in the window, I think of Will, and my brain starts to hatch a plan.
The groceries today are mainly boxes, cans and a few odds and
ends. Nothing that will suffer in the heat, so Marty stows it all in the back
of the SUV and offers to show me a bit more of the town, on foot, by way of the
track along the river, before we head back home.
Marty cuts down a gap between two shops. It's not really a street,
but it's wider than an alley-way. I'm impressed by its cleanliness. In the
city, something like this would be littered with rubbish and the walls would be
covered in graffiti. None of that - the worst I can see are a few unwanted,
moisture-seeking weeds growing right against the buildings.
We emerge at the river - much broader and more impressive than out
in The Village. However, the level is way down from where it has obviously been
in the past, given the lack of rain in recent years. It appears to be flowing
slowly, with just a few visible eddies, indicating possible submerged objects,
maybe logs on the bottom.
We stroll for a few minutes along a narrow track that parallels
the river bank as Marty points out landmarks.
The remnant of thick grass, quite yellow and brown now, is almost
knee high.
We amble along chatting and in high spirits, re-living his
practical joke on me.
With the grass brushing against our legs, Marty is leading about
two paces in front of me. Suddenly he stops dead, swings around and screams at
me "Get back!"
His sudden outburst startles me and I freeze, instead of following
his instruction.
Half a pace ahead of me I see the head of a large snake rise from
the grass and rear backwards. It strikes at me. At the same time, I see Marty's
short, dress boot flash towards my leg in an attempt to kick the snake away.
Marty's timing is a little off. His boot passes between me and the snake. It
seems to strike, twice, just above his boot. He shrieks in pain.
Then the snake quickly disappears into the grass.
"I should have been more careful!" Marty cries out, as he grasps
his leg. "That was a dangerous one, Tom. I don't know if I can survive its
venom." He pulls up the leg of his jeans and I see only two double puncture
marks, half-way up his shin.
I tremble at the horror of his pronouncement, but also at his
quick-thinking and heroism. Then memories of my first aid training flash into
my head. I had hoped that I'd never need to use it.
I literally rip off my shirt and tie it as tightly as I can
directly over the site of the marks, as a constriction bandage. I also remove
my belt and apply it as a tourniquet below Marty's knee, although I'm not sure
whether this procedure is still `in favour' in medical circles. I use Marty's
belt in a similar manner around his leg, close to his groin.
I grab my mobile phone and hit Sean's number. Thank God we had
swapped numbers in the cafe! He answers on the second ring, "Ambulance, Sean
speaking."
"Sean," I yell. "It's Tom Grant. Marty's been bitten by a huge
brown snake. We're on the track by the river. Marty said that it was a
dangerous one. Hurry!"
The phone goes dead.
I remove Marty's shirt and wind it tightly around his thigh to
further constrict the flow of any blood. I grasp his hand and tell him to lie
as still as possible because muscle movement would only assist the progress of
the poison through his lymphatic system.
It takes all of my resolve to remain calm. At the same time, I can
hear a siren. I turn towards the sound and see an ambulance speeding towards
us. Marty is in agony and starting to mumble incoherently. The ambulance skids
to a halt next to us, and Sean jumps out.
"Do you know what it was?" I apologise multiple times for my
ignorance and just tell him that it was big and brown and long. "Shit," he
calls out. "OK. Let's assume worst-case scenario. Taipan."
I don't know exactly what the consequence of that means, but I can
tell from the silent tears that begin running down Sean's cheeks that it's not
good. He produces a hypodermic needle and pumps something into Marty.
A police car pulls up and Chad runs to help.
Sean grabs the stretcher from the back of the ambulance While Chad
cradles Marty's head and sobs, "Stay with us little brother. Hang in there."
They put Marty onto the wheeled stretcher and load him into the
ambulance. Chad tells me to ride in the back with Marty and he'll meet us at
the hospital. He slams the ambulance doors shut and Sean takes off, spinning
the wheels as he starts. He uses his two-way radio to the hospital and arranges
for staff to meet us and for them to prepare a couple of shots of anti-venom
with a long medical name that I can't possibly repeat and that he's already
administered one dose.
Fortunately, the ride to the town hospital takes even less than
two minutes and staff members are waiting at the ambulance bay. They remove the
stretcher, administer another injection and whisk him inside.
Sean comes to me, tears in his eyes and hugs me. "Thanks, Tom.
He's lucky that you were there. Great job with the shirts and belts. That's
given him a fighting chance, but it doesn't look good. He was already
semi-comatose when they got him in." He dashes inside, leaving me standing by
the ambulance, fighting back tears.
Chad pulls up in the police car, jumps out and rushes over to me
and grasps my shoulders. "How is he, Tom?"
"Sean said he was in a semi-coma, and I heard him mention
`Taipan'. Is that bad?"
Chad cries, "Oh, God. Not that. I hope not!" He covers his mouth
with his hand, inhales quickly a couple of times then manages, "Wait for me in
the police car, Tom. I'll be back." Then he, too, disappears into the hospital
through the ambulance bay doors.
I sit for almost an hour in the front seat of Chad's police car,
crying, sweating and awaiting news of Marty, my confidante and friend. It's
difficult to think of anything else because my thoughts keep returning to the
possibility, and consequences, of life without him.
Chad finally returns and slides into the driver's seat. Without me
speaking, he answers my unasked question. "The staff have stabilised his
condition. He's in a coma, on life support... but he's still alive. It's a
positive sign, but the next 48 hours will be critical. It could still go either
way. This isn't the first time that he's been bitten by a snake, but nothing
this bad, if it was what we think. Maybe, and hopefully, he has built up some
sort of natural immunity over the years. If it wasn't a taipan, then possibly
even a king brown. One's as bad as the other. I've tried to contact Mum, but
the phone reception out there is bad at the best of times, and non-existent
most of the time."
I reply, "I can drive straight back to your Mum's place and let
them know."
Chad drops me back where the SUV is parked and hands me Marty's
set of keys. He says, "Tom, please tell Mum that Sean and I will come out
tomorrow. Hopefully, by then, we will have some news. There's nothing we can do
in the meantime, except wait... and pray."
The drive home seems longer than on the way in, as I keep thinking
of what words to say to Mum and Anna and to Will, and to reflect on the fact
that Marty has saved my life, quite possibly at the expense of his own. I feel
very guilty, and become very emotional, with the regular overflowing of tears
blurring my vision.
I pull up the SUV outside Mum's front door. I sit. Still thinking.
Still emotional.
Mum comes out and peers into Marty's car. She focuses on me and,
moving her head from side to side as if seeking a better view, looks for her
son. Then she calls Anna. Anna comes out onto the verandah, and gives me a
questioning look. I get out and walk towards them, only now realising that I am
shirtless.
Anna steps off the verandah and comes to me. "What's wrong, Tom?"
she asks, and then the obvious, "Where's Marty?" It's evident that neither Sean
nor Chad has been able to make contact by phone.
I somehow manage to get the words out, "He's in hospital... snake
bite... he's in a coma... on life support."
Anna throws her arms around me and starts to cry, then stammers,
"What happened?"
That's when I lose it - completely. I suffer a total outpouring of
guilt and grief, for Marty and for them. I can't help but feel that it's my
fault. If I hadn't gone into town with him to `check it out', this would never
have happened. I should have been at the school preparing lessons and maybe
enjoying a visit from the twins and Will.
I think, `Is this God's vengeance, for me overstepping the mark
with Will and having more sinful thoughts about the other two?'
Mum comes down off the verandah, attempting to dry her eyes with
her apron. She, too, hugs me and says, "Tom, dear, come inside, sit down and
have a cup of tea."
I don't know if it's something in the tea, or whether it's just
the action of swallowing, but I feel better able to talk about things, which
helps.
I am able to recount the whole morning, being `set up' by Marty
and Chad, and meeting Sean and a host of Marty's friends. I tell them about the
walk along the river, the encounter with the snake and Marty's hospitalisation,
followed by Sean's report. I remember to tell Mum that Sean and Chad will come
out tomorrow with an update on Marty's condition.
I think to myself, `I hope I don't see them any earlier - that
would only mean bad news!'
I feel better for having spoken with Anna and Mum, who both are a
calming influence on me. They are the encouragement to me that I feel I should
be to them. I tell them that I'd like to go home and have a shower and rest.
Mum hugs me, and kisses me, mother-like, telling me, "It's OK.
He's strong. It's more likely that the snake will die instead of Marty." Her
humour is refreshing in the circumstances.
Anna gives me a long hug and a kiss as well, inviting Will and me
back for dinner, later. In different circumstances, I might have allowed myself
to enjoy her lingering embrace.
It takes me almost ten minutes to drive Marty's SUV slowly back to
his place and I park it around the back, under cover. I take the groceries
through the back door and into the kitchen, half expecting Will to be there.
For once, I'm glad that he isn't.
Having stowed everything in its rightful place I go to my room,
strip off and head for the shower. I make short work of a refreshing few
minutes, allowing the tepid water to run through my hair and down my face and
body. I dry off and head back to my bed, stretch out naked, pull the sheet over
me and fall into a deep, stress-induced sleep.
It's only the sound of the barking dogs that wakes me, thinking
instinctively, "Marty's home!"
Then, my head recovers and recalls, with much anxiety, the events
of the morning.
"Hello?" Will calls chirpily, and strides noisily through the
house and into our bedroom. I open my eyes and manage to focus on his face,
which is absolutely beaming. I can tell that his time with Karl and Kurt has
been a lot of fun. "Are you OK, Tom?" he asks. "You look awful. Where's Marty?"
I sit up, swivel my legs around towards the floor and say, "Will,
come and sit down."
The seriousness of my voice erases the smile from his face and it
is replaced by a wrinkled brow and an inquiring look. He sits next to me and
puts his arm across the back of my shoulders, just as I have done previously to
him. His comforting touch sends another wave of emotion through me.
My head drops into my hands and I feel a flood of tears escaping
and running through my fingers.
"Tom? What's the matter?" he asks, tenderly, as if speaking to a
young child.
"Will, how can I say this? Marty didn't come back from town with
me. He's still there. In hospital. In a coma. On life support. He may die."
I take a couple of very deep breaths and desperately attempt to
summon a measure of stoicism so that I can explain to Will what has happened. However,
unable to speak at the moment, I simply turn and hug him.
He is silent and, bringing his other arm across my body, hugs me
to him.
Gradually I find the breath to give him a short version of what has
happened. He is still silent but begins to rub my back; my tears abate and my
voice gathers strength.
Without emotion, Will stands, pulling me up with him. I ignore the
falling sheet and my fully-relaxed nakedness. Will ignores it too. "Come on,"
he says, "I'll make us both a cup of coffee."
Dinner time with Mum, Anna and Will is a tense hour. I repeat the
details, expressing my regrets and say `if only...' once too many times,
incurring a mild reprimand from Mum.
Nobody raises the question of `What if Marty dies?' although I'm
sure that it is on their minds as heavily as it is on mine.
Will is the one who suggests that we all need to get some sleep.
Nobody puts up any resistance. We say our `good nights' and I let Will drive
back to Marty's.
He really hasn't displayed any obvious
emotion about Marty, which concerns me. I thought that he would be the one who
would break down and I would be comforting him, instead of the other way
`round. We both fall asleep - at least I presume he does, because my `lights go
out' rather quickly.
At some time in the middle of the
night, or the early hours of the morning I have to get up to pee. As I finish,
I hear the dogs barking.
I go to the front door, peer into the
moon-softened darkness and discern that it's a police car that is pulling up.
My heart begins to pound rapidly and
heavily. My eyes fill, then overflow.
(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/
-----
If
you like this story, and haven't said 'hello' yet, please take a couple of
minutes to email me.
rob.zz@hotmail.com
I
try to reply to everyone. Please be patient.
-----
Please
support the efforts at Nifty. Every little bit helps to ensure that
our
stories continue to be posted. Do it here: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html