Hi again.
This is Chapter 2 of my story about a lonely boy who discovers that family can be where you find it. If you haven't read Chapter 1 yet it can be found in my story archive here.
Here's a suggestion that I find helps me get into the story more: When you read Mr. A's dialog imagine it with a Swedish accent. I don't mean the goofy accent of the Swedish Chef on the Muppet Show—
"Hummda hillga horda yumpin' yimminy!"
I mean a much more realistic one with all the misplaced emphasis and incorrect syntax of someone who didn't grow up speaking English. As Fin put it when he first heard Mr. A, it's a close cousin to the German characters speaking English in old WWII movies. I think it enhances Mr. A's character and it's fun to read that way!
Or don't. I hope you like him either way.
Please remember to donate to Nifty. Hosting a website isn't free, so let's help out.
Comments are incredibly welcome, and I intend to answer everyone.
"So Fin," my Mom said, "tell us about the new neighbors."
I was quite taken aback. It was rare for them to include me in dinner table conversation at all and this came before Mom had even bragged about her hoity-toity job at the art gallery or Dad had bitched about some idiot at the office. I swallowed my bite of pork roast and sipped some milk, lest I be accused of talking with my mouth full.
"They're pretty cool," I casually said, sensing that I should tone down my enthusiasm. It would be just like my Dad to take "They're pretty cool" to mean that he isn't. I shuddered to think how it would go over to tell him about Mr. A's Olympic medal and so I resolved he would never hear it from me.
"How many children do they have?" Mom pressed.
"Three," I said. "Ronja is 11, Vidar is 10 and Halvar is 8."
"Those are unusual names," Mom observed. "They sound Dutch or something."
"They're Swedish," I explained, taking a forkful of mashed potatoes lest I be accused of wasting the good dinner my Mom worked so hard to prepare.
I had learned to head off most of their common complaints.
Dad didn't seem to be listening but suddenly spoke up. "Three of 'em, eh? Bound to be noisy."
"You spent some time with them this afternoon Fin," Mom said. "Did they seem especially boisterous to you?"
"Does 'boisterous' mean noisy?" I asked.
"Yes, pretty much."
"Not so boisterous then," I said. "The parents are very polite and the kids are too, at least from what I saw."
"Still sounds like a nightmare to me," Dad said. "Don't go inviting them over here, you got that Fin?"
"Yes sir," I quickly replied, though I never had any such intention. It wasn't just to dodge Dad's bullets either. They had such a great father that I found myself a little embarrassed for them to meet mine.
"The back yard would be fine," Mom said, "but only when your father is at work. What are the parents like?"
"They're nice," I said, getting uncomfortable being on-stage so much with my folks. Every word I said was another chance to screw up and set Dad off. "Mr. Arvidsson is a geneticist, whatever that is."
"A geneticist is a scientist who studies heredity, the way certain traits are passed down from one generation to the next," Mom explained.
That saved me the trouble of looking it up. It may have been the longest sustained conversation she and I ever had.
"Like how I have brown hair because you guys do?"
"Yes, like that," she said. "Actually I was thinking more of you having your Dad's big ears."
Dad shot her an unpleasant look and I couldn't help being glad that for once I was not Mom's target. That is, until I realized that the big-ear insult applied to both of us.
"And the mother? What does she do?"
I thought for a moment. "I don't know if she does anything. She's a Mom."
I saw her eyebrows arch and I knew I'd fucked up.
"I'll have you know young man that mothers work harder than anyone, and many of us also hold down jobs and earn money. I don't want to hear any more nonsense from you about Moms not doing anything, do you understand?"
It was more confrontational that I'd ever seen her and I squirmed in my seat. I liked passive-aggressive better.
I meekly offered, "I just meant that I don't know if she has a job."
"Oh you bet she has a job! With three kids she must be exhausted, judging by how hard it is for me to keep up with you two."
"Hey, how did I get in the middle of this?" Dad complained but Mom just ignored him, shoved some pork into her mouth and chewed it like she was mad at it.
I took the opportunity to slink back under the radar.
I glanced at the nightstand clock: 2:36 am. The last time I had looked it was 2:22. I'd been trying to ignore the insistent stiffness in my PJs but I was having no success. I sighed and threw off the covers.
It had been been months since I'd been this unrelentingly horny. I had jerked off right after my shower and again just before falling asleep but it was apparent I wouldn't get any peace until I did it a third time. I shimmied my PJ bottoms down to my knees and grabbed myself the tried and true way.
It felt wonderful of course but I was a bit scared about how it would feel afterward. I'd only gone three times in the same night once before and that had ended with a puffy, swollen dick, raw and sore and itchy as hell for several hours. I hated it and I didn't want that to happen again but I just couldn't help it. I struck my rhythm and the great feelings began to flow.
I let my brain wander and my friend James' big boner came into focus. I never knew why but I really enjoyed seeing it in my memory. It was my go-to for jerking off, for sure. My breath came a little faster as my excitement built but then something weird happened. James' pretty pink dick faded away and my mind filled with memories of that afternoon and the three beautiful Arvidsson kids.
Veed's handsome face beamed me a cute, quirky smile. I imagined scanning down his tall, athletic body, noticing how smooth and soft the skin on his arms appeared. He was wearing a body-hugging teal-colored t-shirt that marvelously showed off his strong chest and flat belly. I hadn't registered those things when I saw him in person but I guess I must have noticed on some level because the memory was crystal-clear.
And then my mind's eye roamed down a bit more to the front of Veed's dark blue shorts. They were form-fitting as well and I was rather shocked to find that there was a noticeable lump in the front.
It had to be his dick! There was no other explanation but suddenly I wasn't sure if this memory was accurate or if I was imagining something. Either way it said something about me because either I subconsciously noted it that afternoon or it was something I invented because I wished it was real. Unexpectedly I had two exciting jerk-off images and they were both boys' dicks!
My feelings surged and I knew I was going to get there soon. I had an urge to speed up and sprint to the finish line, which I knew would be less likely to leave me raw and sore, but I was enjoying it too much and I settled in for an ill-advised long session. I knew I was going to pay for my folly.
The image drifted down some more and Veed's smooth hairless legs came into view, tight and muscular. His shorts were quite short and showed off the firm thigh muscles and lovely, sculpted calves below. I didn't know why this was so exciting to me but it damn sure was. My free hand found a nipple to pinch and tweak.
Veed was replaced in my mind by cute little Hawley, and I took one second to wonder if he ever got teased at school for his name. I would bet no third-grader tried it a second time! In my mind I saw his embarrassed blush and then his adorable grin.
He did his Hulk flex and I zeroed in on the surprisingly defined biceps he displayed, and his smooth strong legs below tight green shorts. I felt myself inch toward orgasm.
To my surprise the image shifted again just as I reached my release, to giggling Ronnie bent over and showing me her pink cotton panties stretched tight over her shapely round buns.
I cried out as I came, scared that it might be too loud in the silent house but completely unable to rein it in. My hips bucked off of the bed as I surged and the image in my mind returned to Veed and his smiling, gorgeous face. I felt like a wrung-out rag but I grinned as my breath heaved and the aftershocks coursed through me.
It was a really good one!
I slept so late in the morning that I completely missed breakfast and for the first time in memory Mom knocked on my door to tell me she was leaving for work. Oh, and of course to tell me what she made for my lunch, lest I forget how hard she worked. For the record it was egg salad prepared my way which is really her way.
"Thanks Mom!" I yelled from my bed, lest I be accused of ungratefulness.
"And don't pester the neighbors!" she added. "They have movers going in and out and you'd just be underfoot, so wait until they're gone, do you understand?"
"Yes Mom," I said forcing a smile into my voice but inside I was pissed. I wish I had been brave enough to defy her orders because I was dying to see the kids again but I knew from experience that defiance is a lousy strategy for staying under the radar. I decided I'd better wait.
I stumbled to the bathroom and stood before the toilet, dropping my PJ bottoms to the floor and kicking them away. Sure enough my dick was red and puffy and when I aimed it into the bowl it was tender to the touch. Fortunately I could pee without trouble so apparently I didn't do any internal damage. I smiled then because such a great cum was totally worth it.
After washing my hands and splashing cold water on my face I was reasonably awake. I threw on a pair of shorts — for no obvious reason since I was alone in my own room in an empty house — and flipped open my laptop.
My first Google search was "Olaf Arvidsson." I didn't doubt for a second that the kids were telling the truth but looking shit up on the Internet was kind of my thing.
The first result linked to an article about the 2004 Summer Olympics. There was a group photo of the Swedish team in their formal equestrian outfits, smiling broadly and wearing their silver medals. Second from the left was Mr. A, much younger but it was definitely him. The article gave the full medal results and I was pleased to see that the gold had been won by Team USA.
Boy, that American nationalism is so deeply ingrained that Olympic results from long before I was born still sparked pride just because the gold medalists happened to live in the same country I happened to live in. Of course kids in Sweden probably thought theirs was the best country too because they had also been taught national pride.
I read for a minute about Olympic equestrian events but it was exactly as boring as it sounds and I quickly gave it up. Back on the results page for "Olaf Arvidsson" I found another article titled Olaf Arvidsson vinner SM på 1500 meters which even I could figure out meant Mr. A had won a big 1500 meter race. Another brag substantiated. I clicked on the link but of course the article was in Klingon — I mean Swedish.
I went to a Wikipedia page about Sweden and discovered first that the formal name of the country is The Kingdom of Sweden and it's the largest of the Scandinavian countries. They have a King but he doesn't actually run the country. They have politicians for that just like everywhere else.
Skimming through the article I was not surprised at all to discover that in winter the place is cold as fuck. I understood why the Arvidssons always visited there in the summer, which apparently is surprisingly nice. Winters got pretty cold in Minnesota too so I guess I shouldn't talk.
I saw a thumbnail image that looked to me like naked people rolling around in the snow so I clicked on it and guess what? It was naked people rolling around in the snow.
You couldn't see anything naughtier than butts because it was Wikipedia but it was fascinating anyway. Apparently these people sit in a sauna until they're almost cooked and then run outside and roll in the fucking snow because they think it's healthy or something. Then they go back into the sauna and start over again! I determined to ask Veed about this craziness, though I thought they might not tell kids about it because it involves nudity.
Those two thoughts, Veed and nudity, rushed to the front of my consciousness. What if kids do the roll-in-the-snow thing too? Maybe Veed had done it! I imagined his beautiful naked body outdoors in a snowy field and I felt a stirring in my shorts. This was alarming because I was still sore and puffy from the previous night. In a few seconds it was fully stiff, the head trapped in the folds of my shorts and feeling quite uncomfortable. I actually considered doing it again, believe it or not. The thought alone practically made it hurt.
Then I got an idea from the photo. I knew that if I ever rolled naked in the snow I'd lose my boner no matter how horny I was. Maybe a freezing cold shower would be enough of a shock. I shucked off my shorts and stared for a second at the tender, puffy little thing, almost changed my mind and jerked it anyway, but instead ran into the bathroom and blasted the shower fully cold.
I jumped in and howled like I was being murdered but in a few seconds I started to get used to it and, most importantly, my dick mercifully went flaccid. I forced myself to stay under the water for another full minute until I just couldn't take it anymore.
Oddly enough once I was out of the shower I felt kind of good, shivering but tingly and refreshed, and boy was I awake! I looked down at my little limp dick and shriveled balls and realized I could totally do the sauna-to-snow thing. The thought made me feel a little closer to Veed's family.
And maybe a tiny bit Swedish.
After a quick bowl of Rice Krispies I spent an hour on PlayStation and watched two episodes of Goosebumps but I could hardly remember any of it. I flipped off the TV and tossed the remote aside.
My parents' bribes just weren't doing it.
I fondly remembered that halcyon age a day and a half before when I could easily handle being alone. Now there were three wonderful playmates just out of reach and I was fidgety and anxious. My mind touched on masturbating again but I dismissed the idea. The swelling and soreness had mostly gone away by then but I was just not into it just then. That's how it is being 10: one minute you're a walking hormone and the next utterly disinterested.
A large engine roared to life outside my window and I snapped alert, running to the window just in time to see the moving truck pull out of the Arvidssons' driveway. I threw on clothes and rushed down the stairs so fast I almost stumbled twice. I tugged on my gym shoes and raced next door where the front double doors were still open and found Mr. and Mrs. A in the living room.
"Ah, Finley Cooper!" the man beamed. "I knew you were a smart boy, as you have arrived just when the work is finished!"
My eyes popped wide and I hurried to protest, "My Mom said I'd be underfoot! I wanted to help, honest, but she wouldn't let me come over until the movers left!"
"It's OK Fin," Mrs. A said with a fond chuckle. "He's teasing you again. There's nothing my husband likes more than to tease children."
"I enjoy to tease you, Finley Cooper," Mr. A said, placing a large, strong hand on my shoulder. "I like you very much because you are so easy to tease!"
I met his grin with one of my own. "You can tease me all you want, Mr. A."
It beat the shit out of the things my own Dad said to me.
"There's still plenty to help with," Mrs. A said, "if you're really offering. You can go upstairs and help the children put away their things now that the dressers and armoires are here."
"Sure Mrs. A!" I called, running happily up the stairs.
"There you are!" Veed cried when he saw me. He was alone but I heard Hawley and Ronnie talking down the hall in her room. "I thought you'd be over sooner."
I explained about my mother fucking up that plan and Veed smiled.
"It's alright," he said. "There wasn't much to do anyway until the movers carried the furniture in. We've already got the hanging clothes put away in the closet. You wanna help me put stuff in drawers?"
"I guess," I said, "if that's what needs to be done." I glanced around the room, now rather crowded with two youth beds, two nightstands, a mirrored dresser and an armoire. I remembered the large window having massive, heavy curtains when Dennis lived here but now the curtain rod was bare.
What I hadn't remembered was that their window directly faced our house and I was disappointed because my bedroom was on the other side. The houses are close enough together that Veed and I could have talked across the gap, only that was my parents' room across the way and not mine. I supposed we still could do it during the day when my folks were at work, though I'd have to defy standing orders to stay out of their bedroom.
And what would be the point, since during the day I could just go over and see him?
I idly looked into the closet, just because he mentioned it.
"Is this all of your hanging clothes?" I asked.
"Yes."
"All of them, for you and Hawley?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Because there's hardly any of them," I said. "I think I have more clothes in my closet than both of you combined."
"We don't need many clothes," he said. "Pretty much just school clothes and a few nice things for when we go to parties or something. Our play clothes go in the armoire and dresser drawers."
I shrugged and indicated a small box at my feet. "Where do these go?" I asked, not even bothering to examine the indecipherable label.
"Let's see," Veed said, since he could read Klingon. "In my nightstand right here."
I carried the box over to the appointed nightstand and set about transferring things. There was a small flashlight and I sort of automatically flicked it on. It had good strong batteries and a bright beam. It was just like Veed to be prepared for an emergency and I resolved to get a flashlight for my own nightstand.
I found an ornate wooden cube about four inches on a side and my curiosity had me sorely tempted to open it.
"Go ahead and take a look," Veed said with a smile. "That's my great-grandfather's pocket watch from before World War One. It's been passed down to all the first-born sons in the Arvidsson family, from my great-grandfather to my grandfather to my Dad to me! And someday I'll give it to my firstborn son."
"Neat," I said, smiling. "My family doesn't have any traditions this cool. Actually we don't have any traditions at all."
"It keeps good time and everything!" Veed proudly said. "But don't wind it, OK? The more times you wind it the sooner the spring will wear out and I want it to still be working when I give it to my kid."
I opened the box and gently lifted out the watch. It wasn't super-shiny but it was impressive anyway, meticulously engraved with a winter scene of a horse-drawn sleigh traveling down a country lane while snow falls. I turned the watch over and found the same scene on the back except reversed, like you were looking at the same sleigh from the opposite angle. Even the horse's legs were in precisely matching positions.
"I need to polish it," Veed said apologetically.
"It's cool just the way it is," I said. "I've never seen a gold watch before."
"It's not gold," Veed corrected, just as proud as if it had been. "It's just a brass pocket watch like men carried back then. It's been in my family for a hundred years though so I should be respectful of it."
I returned the watch to its cushioned box so carefully you'd have thought I was disarming a bomb. Somehow it seemed right to place it far in a back corner of the drawer, when it wouldn't be disturbed.
Veed was putting socks into a dresser drawer as I pulled out the next nightstand item, a clear plastic bottle containing some kind of thick, clear liquid. The label was in English for a change.
"Astro..." I read, "...glide? Hey Veed, what's this stuff?"
Veed jerked his wide eyes to me. "Um..." he stalled, turning bright red and looking a bit frantic. I'd seen that look before and it translated as, "Oh shit!"
There was a lot going on in his beautiful eyes. There was embarrassment and fear and remorse and at first I was confused. Veed was upset over this little bottle of whatever it was and I was at a loss as to why.
I didn't want my cool new friend to be upset. I wanted to hug him close and tell him that whatever it is it can't be so bad and everything will be all right. I'd met this kid 24 hours before and already I felt like it was my sacred duty to be there for him no matter what; to be a close and true friend.
"That's... um, oil!" Veed declared, but I could tell from his tone that he just that second made it up. "For my baseball glove. It's the kind the Houston Astros use so... you know... Astroglide."
He was obviously lying and suddenly I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach and there was no air left in me. He was lying to me, his true friend, the one who wanted to help him no matter what!
Thoughts and emotions careened inside me like nuclear-powered pinballs. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair and I felt discounted and rejected and I wanted to bolt from the room.
But I didn't bolt from the room and it suddenly slammed home exactly why. Yes, he was lying to my face but I saw in his eyes that he was anguished over it.
I knew I got way ahead of myself with the whole true-friend relationship that I made up in my head. You can't really know someone in 24 hours no matter how much you want to. Still, I was pretty damn good at reading people. Years of walking on eggshells around my wacky parents had taught me to be ultra-sensitive to people's signals, not just their words but also their body language and facial expressions.
Now I was reading Veed and I was pretty sure the real reason he was upset was because he didn't want to lie to me but he had to. I thought he'd rather tell me the truth but there was some good reason that he couldn't.
Maybe I only thought that because I want it so badly, the fake fantasy friendship I had invented. I think I wanted it even more than I had before. I wanted to know why he felt he had to lie to me and for him to know that no matter what I would forgive him. Whatever was going on I wanted to be in on it with him. I wanted to be trusted with Veed's secrets and to trust him with mine.
Suddenly I was not upset at all. Working this out was exactly how I would get to be his trusted friend.
I giggled and asked, "Why does your baseball glove need oil? Does it squeak?"
He didn't seem to realize that I was teasing. "No," he said, "It's to keep the leather soft and flexible."
"You mean like Neatsfoot oil?"
"Um, yeah," he said, looking away. "I guess you know about that already."
"Yeah. The kid who used to live here showed me when he was in Little League. I was only about seven at the time but I still remember because he spilled it all over the carpet and his Mom almost killed him. That was right here in this room, in fact. I don't see the stain so I guess they got a new carpet. Why do you keep baseball glove oil in your nightstand?"
"That's a mistake," he said, stepping over and taking the bottle from me. "That should go in with all the sports equipment downstairs."
It was another lie but by then I was kind of amused by it. I decided to keep pushing his buttons a little.
"You like the Astros? Most guys around here like the Twins." Before he could answer I acted like I had just thought of the reason. "Oh, wait, I get it. There's no such thing as Twinsglide, is there? So you had to go with the Astros."
I giggled again at his consternation. He was fully aware that I knew he was lying but he'd made his bed and I wouldn't let him out of it. And I was OK with the lie because I knew it would only last until the next time I fired up Google.
I finished unpacking his nightstand things without finding anything else remarkable so I moved on to his jeans drawer. He only had three pairs of jeans but I didn't mention that I have six. It took, like, 30 seconds to unpack three pairs of jeans so I opened the next box and found what I thought must be bathing suits, only I was not sure at first that they were bathing suits at all. They were the tiniest little things I'd ever seen, little triangles of spandex and polyester that didn't look like they'd conceal one testicle. I held one up and turned a quizzical look to Veed.
"They're European style swimsuits," he explained. "I don't wear them here in America because kids would laugh but I actually think they're pretty great. I kind of hate it when I have to wear big clunky American-style swimsuits. I don't know why anybody would want to swim with all that wet cloth weighing them down."
I considered for a second. "Well if this is all you're gonna wear why bother wearing anything at all?"
Veed stopped what he was doing and stared at me, so I stared right back at him. "Go on," he said. "What do you mean by that?"
I stared a second longer before I answered. "Nothing. I was joking. I mean, you have to wear something, right?"
"Who says?" Veed challenged.
"Well, the cops for one," I said, "and my parents for another."
"They'd get mad, huh?"
"Yeah," I said as if it was an inviolate rule of the Universe. "Wouldn't yours?"
"I don't think so," Veed said in a casual tone. "A lot of things are very different in Sweden. People don't think the same way as they do here."
"You sound like you like their way better."
"For most things, yeah. I do."
"Then why do you live here instead of there?"
"My Mom grew up here and her whole family is here," Veed said. "Then my Dad came over to go to college and they fell in love and got married. There are good parts to both places but I agree with my Dad that the Swedes are a lot smarter about some things."
"Children!" Mrs. A's voice came up the stairs. "It's lunch time. Please wash your hands and come to the kitchen."
Veed's eyes lit up and he sniffed the air. "Oh boy! I think we're having raggmunk! And bacon too by the smell of it."
"Yeah, I smell the bacon," I said, "but what's raggmunk?"
Veed stepped into the bathroom and began washing his hands. "Potato pancakes," he said over his shoulder, "and they're really good! My Mom fries 'em nice and crispy and there's bacon and lingonberries too! She might not have any lingonberries though. Here in America we usually have to use raspberries instead."
Ronnie's door opened and she stepped out smiling. "Hi Fin!" she called happily. "I thought I heard your voice."
Behind her I noticed Hawley and it looked for the world like he was pulling his t-shirt down and smoothing it. I wondered about it for half a second but that's all.
"Hi Fin," he echoed his sister and gave me a very genuine smile as well. I wondered again about Veed's lie because these kids seemed nothing but open and welcoming every single moment.
Veed came out of the bathroom and I just stood there.
"Go ahead," Ronnie said. "You're next in line."
"No, it's OK," I said. "I'll wash my hands when I go home for lunch."
"Aww!" Ronnie exclaimed. "Can't you stay and have lunch with us?"
"Yeah Fin," Hawley piped in. "Have lunch with us!"
"I'd better not," I said. "My Mom went to a lot of trouble to make egg salad for me. If I don't eat it she might think I don't appreciate it."
I left out the part where I'd be in the doghouse for three days.
I hadn't noticed that Mrs. A had come up the stairs to hurry the kids along. "But you must try some traditional Swedish food," she said. "I'll explain to your mother that I insisted you stay. I'm sure she won't mind."
You don't know my mother, I thought, but instead I said, "Thank you but I'd better not. Egg salad doesn't keep and she'll be... disappointed... to waste it." I carefully chose not to use the word mad.
"Well how about this? Why don't you run home and bring the egg salad over here? Then we can all try your Mom's delicious food while you try mine, and then it won't be wasted."
"Um, yeah OK," I said. "I guess that works," and all four Arvidssons beamed broadly. I basked in their smiles even as my confusion rose again. They really did like me, really did want to be my friends. It was just not possible that I could have been misreading them. But then why lie to me about a bottle of weird oil? It didn't make sense.
"I'll go with you," Veed offered brightly but I thought about our Ring doorbell with the video camera and how my Dad could see on his phone who came to the house. I doubted he was checking it every day but I was not willing to take the chance.
"I'm sorry Veed," I said, "but I'm not allowed to have anybody over when my parents aren't home."
"That is a very wise policy," Mrs. A said. "Perhaps when our families get to know each other better they can make an exception for these three."
Fat chance, I said in my head but smiled and nodded.
Lunch was delicious. I'd never had potato pancakes before but they quickly became my new favorite. The bacon was crispy the way I like it and the raspberries were fresh and sweet. We ate my Mom's egg salad on crispy flatbread they call knäckebröd and it was equally delicious. If I had been eating alone at home I'd have had it on white bread which suddenly sounded absolutely boring to me. Everyone complimented the egg salad and I had to admit my Mom made it pretty good.
After lunch Hawley picked up his plate and silverware and reached for Ronnie's. His Mom said, "Will you help clear, Fin?"
"Sure Mrs. A," I said, glad to help and gratified to be treated like one of the kids.
Hawley and I bustled all the dishes and silverware to the sink in three trips. Ronnie was up on a small step-stool rinsing them and handing them to Veed, who loaded them into the dishwasher. There was no discussion and no complaining from the kids, and in fact they laughed and joked while they did their chores. Ronnie washed my Mom's egg salad container by hand and set it aside.
"Don't forget this when you go home," she said with a bright smile and friendly eye contact.
What a fantastic family! The only way I wouldn't forgive Veed for lying was if that bottle was full of nitro-glycerin to blow up my house.
We went back upstairs and I helped all three finish unpacking. Ronnie had more clothes than the boys but not nearly as many as I would have expected for a girl. They all had those skimpy Swedish swimsuits so I guessed that was just the normal thing over there.
When we were finished we all went to the kitchen again where Mr. and Mrs. A were drinking coffee.
"What else can we help with?" Veed asked.
Mr. A drained his cup and said, "There is still one thing that must be done. All of you please come to the bakgård."
I knew this meant "back yard" because it sounded almost exactly the same as in English. Veed wonderingly looked around to all of us but shrugged and followed his Dad.
Their backyard was very much like ours except instead of a wooden fence there was a row of tall evergreens, which, along with the highway's noise barrier and our fence, made for virtually total privacy.
"You set up the Kubb pitch!" Hawley joyously exclaimed. He pronounceed it "Koob" and followed with, "Oh Papa! Thank you!"
Mr. A beamed at his happy brood. "You children have worked very hard. It is time to play and have fun!"
I grinned too despite having no clue why.
"Kubb is a traditional Swedish game," Veed explained. "It goes all the way back to Viking days."
"It's really fun!" Ronnie gushed. "I want to be on Fin's team!"
I smiled and nodded. "OK, but how do you play?"
"The basic game is pretty simple," Veed said. "There are advanced rules that can get kind of complicated but this is your first time so we'll play the easy way."
"I will leave you to your game," Mr. A said, turning back to the house. "You may not come back inside until you have all had too much fun!"
"Thanks, Papa," Veed called after him. "You're the best!"
"What's with all the wooden blocks?" I asked.
There was a rectangular area marked off with tall wooden stakes at the four corners. In between the stakes on the short ends of the rectangle were five wooden blocks about eight inches high and four inches square, evenly spaced in a straight line, for a total of ten blocks. In the very middle was a taller block about a foot high with sharp points on top that looked kind of like a crown.
"The five at each end are the kubbar," Veed explained. "We call 'em Koobs. These five belong to you and Ronnie and those over there belong to Hawley and me. The one in the middle is the King. Your team throws these sticks at the other team's Koobs until you knock them all down. Once they're all knocked down you get to go after the King. Whichever team knocks down the King wins."
"You get half of the batons and Ronnie gets the other half and you take turns," Hawley offered. "You have to throw the baton underhand and spin it, like this."
He tossed one of the batons across the field with a graceful backward spin, end-over-end until it hit the ground and bounced within inches of a Koob.
"Augh!" Hawley complained. "I almost got it."
"Those are our Koobs, knucklehead!" Veed teased and his brother reacted with a shocked expression that turned immediately to a shy mea culpa.
"Oops," the boy said with a pink-cheeked smile.
We started to play and the kids coached me on the rules and strategy as they came up. It was pretty fun and Ronnie and I even got the King first! It was very cool to win my first-ever time playing Kubb but I also realized that the game is really simplistic and repetitive. You keep knocking down Koobs and setting them back up again somewhere else until you get a lucky break and knock down the last two or three in one turn. Then it's easy to get the King and win.
"Let's switch teams for the next game," Hawley suggested. "I want to be with Fin this time."
"OK," Ronny said and she and Hawley traded places. It was electric to play so closely with the adorable and beautiful little boy. His energy was infectious and his magnetism irresistible. He was also really good at the game.
I guess it took him a minute to get warmed up because all of a sudden Hawley was looking like a dead-eye on the Koob pitch.
They call it a pitch, not a field. I have no idea why.
Shortly we — I should say he — had four of them down and zeroing in on the fifth. In only three turns we got all their Koobs plus the King and won.
I'd won my first two Kubb games despite having knocked down only one Koob the whole time. I wanted to bail but then I thought about playing the rubber match.
"Me and Veed this time," I said, slipping him a sly smile. He returned it and started walking down the pitch. Hawley switched with him.
I felt the electricity of being near Veed and it was even more than it was with Hawley. With Veed there was another level to the thrill, the growing friendship I desired. Between that and the animal magnetism all the Arvidssons exuded I could hardly concentrate even on this kindergarten version of Kubb. I wanted to be Veed's friend so bad it made my chest ache.
Hawley and Ronnie won fairly handily because again I was useless. I turned a guilty look to Veed but he wore a fond smile.
"Don't worry, you'll get better," he said, cupping my shoulder with his hand. "It was your first time."
"Fin!" Mrs. A called from the back door. "It's a quarter to four, Honey."
The pet name sounded more sincere from her than from my own mother.
"I thought you'd want to know," she said. "And don't forget your mother's Tupperware!"
"I gotta go you guys," I said and I was gratified when they all showed sadness on their faces. I was more sure than ever that these kids wanted to be my friends.
I took the clean container from Mrs. A and scampered home in a flurry of sincere goodbyes. I had to hurry but I really wanted to see if I could really talk to Veed across the gap between the houses. It involved going into my parents' room against big-time rules and that could go south real bad but at that moment I was not listening to my own good sense.
I hurried up the stairs and straight into the room I'd hardly been in since I stopped having nightmares at age 6 and no longer ran to their bed in the middle of the night. The nightmares were only marginally worse than my Dad's reaction but what are you gonna do when you're six?
I ran to the window and right there was Veed's bedroom window, maybe 50 feet away. He was just walking into the room and I waved to him but he wasn't looking. He peeled off his t-shirt and I wondered why he was changing clothes. He certainly didn't work up enough sweat playing Kubb to need a shower.
I reacted a bit to the sight of Veed's bare chest and the thought of him in the shower washing off the sweat. I didn't know where these thoughts come from but I would be lying to myself if I pretended I didn't like them. Veed looked up with a greeting smile just as Hawley entered my view.
He was buck naked.
I gasped out loud and I couldn't believe my eyes. He was every bit as beautiful as I gave him credit for, with a curvaceous full butt that drew my eyes like magnets. In a second he turned and I saw his little junk, small and cute and for some reason lovely to my eye. I wished I could see better and I got an idea.
My Dad had binoculars somewhere that he used when he went to the race track. I didn't know exactly where he kept them and I didn't have a lot of time to look but it was massively important that I get a good look at Hawley. I ran to my parents' closet and began searching but I didn't find them. It was eight minutes to four and I ran down the hall to my father's home office where he occasionally worked from home but mostly played Solitaire.
I found the binoculars in a desk drawer and I dashed back to the main bedroom. Now all three of the blond beauties were there and they were all completely bare. Ronnie and Veed were casually talking while Hawley attentively listened. I couldn't fathom it; the only thing I could even think of was that it was some kind of Swedish thing, that kids take baths together or something. There was no time to ponder that though. I raised the binoculars and frantically focused.
There was the window sill. I adjusted a bit and there was Veed's leg, so I tilted up a bit more and found it, his hairless ten-year-old dick.
I was taken aback for a second because Veed was not circumcised. I'd seen uncut ones before but not often, although I did look it up on the Internet so I understood somewhat. A snorkel of foreskin covered up his dickhead and I was disappointed. I was sure it was a lovely dickhead and I wished I could see it.
I scanned up Veed's strong lean body to his chest. He gestured with his arm and I saw his hairless pit. I have no idea why I liked seeing it. His pointy little pinkish-brown nipples attracted me too and I relished the thrill that coursed through me. I paused briefly on the boy's face and decided it was somewhere between adorably cute and ruggedly handsome.
I much more quickly scanned Ronnie's super-fit body. Her legs and ass were tight and muscular without being masculine. She was a cute girl with a girly shape who happened to also have a great physique. I paused on her face as well, for the first time recognizing just how cute she really was.
Then I found Hawley. He was every bit a younger Veed, in amazing shape for eight years old and cute as can be with his round little face and blazing blue eyes. His dick was half Veed's size and also uncut but I could make out the exact shape of the helmet-like head straight through the foreskin. It was jutting out a bit and I sucked in my breath at the realization that Hawley was half-hard.
I felt my own cock begin to swell as right before my zoomed-in eyes Hawley's little pink dick filled and stretched and stood up until it was pointing damn near vertical. In the process the sweet helmet head skinned right out of the snorkel and suddenly I was ogling a full-on Nordic boner.
I stared for a moment and Hawley did nothing to conceal his excitement. Finally I swept the binoculars around the room in search of Veed, hoping he was having a similar problem. When I found his nice erect cock there was a small hand holding it and it wasn't Veed's.
Thanks for reading Chapter 2 of Seeing More of the Neighbors. Chapter 3 is coming soon.
If you like my stuff have a look at my story archive here on my Prolific Authors page.
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