Kurt
Life in The
Village, through the eyes of a student at the remote school.
This is an
original work of pure fiction (just an expression of a fantasy)
by Robert A. Armstrong (a pseudonym)
The resemblance
of the characters by action, name, location or description to any real person
is purely coincidental.
If it is illegal,
or offensive, for you to read stories involving interactions of a sexual nature
between adults and youths, then what are you doing here?
From
Chapter 59:
When I regain my
breathing, I open my eyes, staring straight into Ron's, and his smile.
"When did you
learn to do that?" He grins at me. "You were pretty good!"
"But, not as good
as you!" I say to him. "And I can't tell you anything more. House Rule! Hey,
you could always teach me to do it better, like how you just did it to me!"
"I think that we
will have opportunities to make that happen," he says, still grinning. "I could
be here for quite a while, according to what your dad told me."
"Nice!" I say.
Then I roll onto my stomach. "Your turn!" I grin at him. "Go for it!"
"Just a minute!"
he says. "I'll need a towel. Things are going to get very wet."
He gets up,
squeezes my glutes, then heads to the bathroom and emerges, rubbing off his
body the excess oil that I so freely bathed him with.
Suddenly, he stops
dead, listening, and says, "What's that noise?"
"Hell!" I blurt
out. "That sounds like my Dad's ute!"
Chapter 60 – Surprises!
"Quick!"
Ron growls urgently. "Get your clothes on."
He gathers his own and retreats to the bathroom.
I jump off the bed and pull my underpants up, instantly
aware that they are on backwards, but I don't have time to correct to the uncomfortable
error! Jeans up! Shirt out!
"Hello!" I hear, as Dad closes the door of the ute.
"Where is everyone?"
Quickly checking around me, I see the bottle of oil on
the floor and immediately stash it under a pillow and smooth out the covers.
Dad comes through the door. "What's going on?" he
asks.
My heart doesn't just sink. It dives!
"Here, ya go, Champ," Ron says, emerging from the
bathroom, with two different brooms in his hands, and properly dressed. (I
don't know how he managed to hide his `Moby Dick'!) "Which one do you want to
do? The floor or the cobwebs?" Then, as if he had only just realised that my
Dad was here, he says, "Oh, hi Jan, what's happening?"
"I thought that you guys were coming down here to
check out whether there was any rubbish lying around," Dad says, eyeing us
strangely. "What are you both doing inside?"
I open my mouth, hoping that something sensible and
believable will come out.
However, Ron beats me to it. "Yeah, we've already done
that. It's all in a pile behind the hut, near the water tank, ready to be
moved."
Oh, shit! If my Dad bothers to check it out, he'll
know that Ron is lying and he could become suspicious of what we might actually
have been doing, inside!
Ron continues, "After collecting it all, Kurt
suggested, since we were down here anyway, that we should give the place a
sweep. It's amazing how quickly dust settles and spiders think that they can
make themselves at home wherever they like!"
He passes the floor broom to my right hand. He knows
that I'm right-handed – most of the time!
"Boots at the door, please, Dad," I tell him. "Where
we left ours. No sense in bringing in more dirt!"
"So, let's see what rubbish we have!" Dad says,
turning to head down the couple of steps.
I give Ron a fearful look, but he smiles, returning my
anxiety with a grin and a `thumbs-up'.
After quickly slipping our boots on, Ron and I follow
Dad around towards the back of the hut. I'm terrified of what we will find. Or
won't!
"Hey! Nice work!" Dad says, turning to us and
grinning, having inspected a pile of metal and wood and other stuff, around the
corner from the water tank, which would not be visible from the track down to
the hut.
"Yeah," Ron answers. "It was scattered all over the
place. It looked as though somebody had just tossed some of it out of the
windows. But it didn't take us long to clean up, eh Champ?"
"No time at all," I gulp, amazed, my heart thumping
away. I'm sure that my Dad and Ron understand my response differently!
Ron winks.
My heart is still trying to pound its way out of my
chest. And my temples.
Without further questioning, Dad says, "Well, having
it all in one pile will make it easier to pick up once the paddock is fenced,
away from where the Farm Stay guests might wander. I hadn't been down here
much, and certainly didn't notice the scattered rubbish."
Cleverly changing the subject, Ron says, "So, I assume
that Helen didn't want you to help her with lunch!"
"It was a little stronger than `didn't want my help',"
my Dad tells him. "So, banished from the house, and to fill in a bit of time, I
decided to bring down some paint which can be used to freshen this place up.
What do you reckon? A job for the two of you next weekend?"
"I thought that Karl was the painter in the family!" I
reply, attempting to add some humour to my brightening mood.
And, Dad actually wants Ron and me to be together down
here next weekend! Hell, Yeah!
"Yes, well, when I thought about it, and based on my previous
observations of you two with paint brushes, you would do a much better job than
somebody who thought that he was just being punished for something," Dad
replies, grinning, and touching the side of his nose.
"You're smart..." I tell him, "for an old man!" I grin
at him. Then, watching his face, I run!
It was always fun, as a little kid, to pretend that I
could get away from my Dad, yet I was always delighted when he caught me and
tickled me, picked me up and tossed me onto his shoulder, and gave my backside
a make-believe spanking.
I glance behind me, as I used to do back then, only to
find that I'm actually maintaining my lead on him. My legs have grown! So, I deliberately
slow down until `Captain Jan Andersen' captures his 13-year-old fleeing pirate,
and ensnares me in a headlock. Oh, no! I am about to be made to walk the plank
to the sharks waiting below!
"Old man, is it?" he grins, obviously enjoying our
playfulness as much as I do. "Think you can run faster than me, do you?"
He releases me, then gives me a friendly swat on the
tail, but without throwing me over his shoulder. I enjoy it, however, not quite
as much as when Mr Grant does it!
I laugh.
Then I ask, cheekily, "Dad, so, do everyone's legs
slow down when they start to go bald?"
His face drops and he lifts one hand to feel the back
of his head.
I point at him and laugh even more. It's one of those
`Gotcha!' moments.
He makes to chase me again, but stops after only two,
quick, threatening steps.
As we are walking together, back towards where Ron is
obviously enjoying our father/son fun, I feel a stinging swat on my backside. Then
Dad runs.
I'm tempted to catch him because I'm sure that I
could, but, instead, call out loudly, mainly for Dad's benefit, "Hey, Ron.
Don't chase that old man. We wouldn't want him to suffer a heart attack!"
We are still laughing when Ron and I help to carry the
cans of paint from the ute into the hut.
I hand Ron the broom for the cobwebs, and, while
pointing to where my Dad is standing, say, "More dirt to sweep up!"
Chuckling and looking at his watch, Dad tells us, "Don't
be long!" Then he heads for the ute and starts it up. He leaves, giving us a
wave with his arm out of the window, but without looking back.
With his arm over my shoulder and mine around his
waist, Ron and I walk back inside, removing our boots at the door. "Phew!" I
tell him, exhaling heavily. "That was close!" "I'm glad that he was driving the
ute. It's noisier than the Land Rover."
"And you played along with my story amazingly," he
replies, grabbling me in a headlock, like Dad did, and mussing up my hair.
Instinctively, I feel for his Moby Dick and ask, "Hey,
how on earth did you hide this so quickly?"
He jokes, "Well, I got such a fright, that it went into
immediate hibernation."
He hangs on, so do I.
"You want to keep playing?" I put to him. "It's your
turn to have some fun!"
"Better not!" he replies. "Maybe later, or tomorrow. Besides,
we now have some sweeping to do in case your father comes to inspect, then we'd
better get back for lunch."
I'm not sure how easily `later' or `tomorrow' will
happen! Later, Karl and Jacko will be around. And, tomorrow, Mr Grant and
William will be here as well.
I ask the question that has been buzzing through my
brain. "When...? How... did you know that all of the rubbish was stacked near the
water tank?"
"It was one of the last things that I did for Uncle
Jim," Ron tells me. "I knew that saying to your dad that we had just done it
was a bit of a risk. but I was counting on everything still being where I had
left it, and that your dad hadn't seen it any time recently!"
As Ron and I emerge from putting the quad bikes away,
Karl and Jacko trot up, then dismount in front of us.
As they lead their horses past us, I look at their
faces. There is a surprising happiness about them both!
"Your brother's face is glowing," Ron comments to me
as we get closer to the house. "Like it was on the night that the two of you
came back from seeing the possums! So is Jacko's."
I look at Ron. He just raises and lowers his eyebrows
a few times. He is right! With his
ability to read auras, he doesn't have to say anything more. I can put two and
two together!
I think back to Karl's recent misery at the thought of
William finishing school and going away, leaving my brother with nobody to muck
around with, apart from me and the uncertainty of the Farm Stay guests. I hope
that Karl might just have found a new friend! I'll ask him about it tonight, although
I don't expect to get any more from him than the `House Rule' defence!
We go in to find the table set for lunch, with Dad,
Jed and Charlie reclining on the lounges.
I nod to them, and Jed, as though I had asked him a
question, says, "All done! It was easier than I expected, especially with
Charlie here. He's always a great help.
Charlie blushes. Ron and I sit with them.
Dad adds, "I've told Charlie that he's welcome to come
and stay for a few days at a time whenever Jed can spare him."
"I love horses and bikes," Charlie tells us.
"And he's quite capable of helping with anything
around the place, if you need it," Jed adds.
We chat for another five or ten minutes, then Helen
asks, "Kurt, would you duck across and see what's keeping your brother and Jacko?
And tell them that I'm about ready to serve. Thank you."
I give a quick, sideways nod to Ron, virtually asking
him to accompany me. He declines with a shake of his head, probably not noticed
by the others. No sense in making my wanting to be with him too obvious, I
suppose. He's smart!
I walk to where the horses are, thinking that Jacko
and Karl might be brushing them. No. Not here. The horses are happily feeding.
Then I head to the bunkhouse. From the outside I hear
the showers running.
I go in quietly and stop outside the shower room door,
listening to their laughing. I call out, "Whatever you two are doing in there,
you'd better hurry up. Helen's serving lunch and sent me to get you."
I close the outside door loudly. However, after Ron's
comments about their faces glowing, I'm curious, so I sneak back. They are
still laughing. I carefully push the shower room door, just partly open, and poke
the top of my head around to see what is so amusing.
After watching for long enough, I grin at them and say
loudly, "I'll go and tell Dad that you were just brushing the horses, and that
you needed to get rid of the horsey smell, and then you'll be right over. "But,
you'd both better rinse off first... in very cold water!"
As I leave, I hear Jacko say, "Fuck! I knew this was a
bad idea. Do you think he'll tell?"
I let the outside door bang, and I don't hear what
Karl says after, "I don't know. Maybe."
I grin to myself as I walk slowly back to the house to
give them some time. This arrangement of having Jacko and Ron as farm hands
could work out really well for both Karl and me!
Finally, the eight of us sit down, around the food which
is arranged in the centre of the table.
As various dishes are passed around to
take what we want, Dad, raising his voice above the chatter, says, "Are you
sure Kurt, that you told us the truth about what you saw Karl and Jacko doing when
you came in?"
My brother and his new friend, opposite me, look as
though they are about to walk the plank or face a firing squad. Terrified! They
pause their plate-filling and stare at me.
"Yep. Absolutely sure!" I say, smirking at them.
My brother squints a look of hatred at me. I hope that
Jacko isn't going to cry! Or die!
Dad says, "Well, they sure don't smell like horses! I
think that you were just making it up."
I deliberately sniff the air in their directions. "Yes,
well, maybe I could have been mistaken," I say, winking at them. "It must have
just been the horses that they were busy brushing!"
They look at me, breathe again and smile. My brother
mouths, "Thank you." Jacko just grins.
Despite being offered coffee after lunch, Jed, looking
at his watch, says, "Thanks, Helen, but we really must be getting home. And it
will be much shorter and faster by the back road instead of going via The
Village. Thank you for a wonderful lunch!"
"Yes, thank you, Helen," Charlie adds.
I see Dad hand Jed an envelope. He walks them out to
their ute and then shake hands with them both.
Helen starts to clear away.
"Oh, no, you don't!" I tell her. "The cook doesn't
wash up! Remember?"
Helen and Dad fill their cups from the large coffee
pot on the side table, then move to the lounges. Helen comments, "Well, this is
unusual; you and I being able to sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee together! I
could get used to this on weekends."
Karl and I recruit the assistance of Ron and Jacko and
take all of the dishes to the kitchen. Karl noticeably keeps somebody between
him and Ron at all times. This will be the last time that I have to put up with
this rubbish! Absolutely!
"I'll wash!" Karl insists, already running the hot
water and squirting the detergent.
"Then, I'll wipe," Jacko announces, grabbing a tea
towel from the handle of the oven.
"Well, I know where everything belongs," I say. "So,
I'll put away."
Which leaves the scraping and stacking for Ron. "That
means you get to finish first," I smile at him, deliberately for Karl's benefit.
"Then you can go and relax with Dad and Helen."
I see my brother's face change from miserable at being
the next in the chain after Ron, to grinning when he realises that his imagined
`arch enemy' will disappear first."
Whenever Ron gets close to my brother by adding some
other scraped dish or bowl to the stack, Karl fixes his gaze on him,
suspiciously. What? Does he think that Ron will drown him in the kitchen sink, half
full of sudsy water? In front of witnesses? I smile at the stupidity of it all!
"There you go, Karl!" Ron says. "My job is done.
They're all yours now. I'm going to sit inside and enjoy my coffee before it
gets cold."
For a short while, there is an uneasy silence, with
Karl washing, Jacko taking one item at a time from the draining rack, drying it,
and then handing it to me to stow away.
I notice an exchange of glances and nods between Karl
and Jacko.
Then, it's Jacko who finally speaks. "Kurt, I just
want to say thanks for not ratting on us earlier."
"Why? Did you think that I would?" I reply, stopping
still and looking him squarely in the eye which, I can tell, makes him a little
uneasy.
"Yes. Maybe. And you know why!" he says hesitantly. "A
grown man playing with certain parts of your brother's naked body."
"Nothing that he and I haven't done before, I assure you,"
I say. Then I add, looking to Karl, "I hope that you did nothing more than that!"
"Nothing more!" Karl replies hurriedly, keen to convince
me.
"And, from what I saw," I begin, "it wasn't only YOU
playing with HIM, eh, Jacko?"
Then I stare at my brother. Jacko turns from me to face
Karl as well.
Karl confesses, "OK. I'm as guilty as he is! In fact, playing
in the shower was all my idea."
"Very dangerous!" I tell my brother, then I turn my
gaze back at Jacko. "What if our Dad had come in, instead of me, and sprung you
two doing what you were doing in there?"
"Well, Dad wouldn't sneak up on us, like you did,"
Karl butts in. "He would've just stood over here on the verandah and yelled!"
"Maybe." I reply. "But, in future, you'd both better
be more careful, and stick to jerking each other off when you go horse riding
alone together."
They both look at each other, then turn and stare at
me, uncertain of what to say, if anything. They certainly can't deny it!
"Come on!" I tell them. "It was pretty obvious what
you had done the moment that I saw your faces when you came back. I'm very familiar
with my brother's moods. I know exactly what causes that goofy, satisfied expression
on his face!"
"And it doesn't bother you?" Jacko asks, with some
disbelief. "Him and me doing stuff?"
I certainly can't tell him why it doesn't bother me!
The names `Ron' and `Mr Grant' come to my mind. And I suddenly recall `Dave',
the steward on the train. Then there's Andy. I've done much more with him than
with anyone else. Me bothered? No.
"What does bother me," I reply, smiling, "Is knowing exactly
what you two will be doing, somewhere, while I'm left painting a wall or
helping Helen in the kitchen."
"You could always join us, if you want to," Jacko
says, grinning.
I catch the expression, directed at me, which crosses
my brother's face. In one flash, it conveys `You'd better not!' and `He's mine!'
and, `I saw him first!'
I reply, softening the frown on Karl's face, "I don't
think so, Jacko. Besides, horses and I don't agree, like they do with you two!"
Then I have to add, "But, it's all right if you two want to ride somewhere and have
a bit of fun. Just be careful. OK?"
I realise that I sound more like Karl's older brother
than his twin, but he nods his agreement.
"Thanks," Jacko says, capturing me in a hug, which, I
can tell, doesn't exactly please Karl.
"Group hug!" I say, extending my arm to Karl who joins
in. They both appear satisfied, especially when I break away from them, leaving
them to give each other a final, friendly, promising squeeze. And a quick,
deal-sealing grope!
As the washer-upper, Karl quits the kitchen next.
Now alone with Jacko, I mention to him, almost
casually, "You know, that if you ever hurt my brother, things will become very painful
for you. And, I don't mean just here..."
Determined to have a good feel of the handsome dick
and dangling balls that I saw in the shower, I attach my hand to the front of
his jeans.
I continue to speak, while continuing to have a feel
of what has charmed my brother, "IF my Dad were to `accidentally' find out what
you were doing with Karl, I can guarantee that your nose would most likely be
rearranged, and that you would definitely lose your job, and there's a great
chance that you would end up in prison! Do I make myself clear?"
Jacko has been standing still, taking it all in – the
verbal warning as well as allowing the exploration by my hand.
"Perfectly clear!" he says, moving his hand to the
front of my jeans, getting in a quick feel of my half-stimulated, and
probably-obvious, Junior, before I pull away from him.
"You'd better save that for my brother!" I tell him,
but grinning. "Now get out of here. Your job's done!" I add, smiling, "Oh, and Jacko...
thanks."
"No. Thank you, Kurt," he replies, hanging the wet tea
towel over my shoulder. "Karl sure is lucky to have a brother like you!"
The dryer-upper leaves.
As the last of the pots and pans are returned to their
`homes', I wonder, am I jealous of Karl for finding a willing play-mate in Jacko,
who is older than me, and Andy, and William, and Ron, and even a year or two
older than Mr Grant?
Answer: No! But I am protective of my twin brother! We
don't know anything about Jacko! This is only their first day together but
already they've gone off horse riding with each other, jacked one another off
somewhere, and not only showered together but were rubbing their soapy erections
against each other's body! Where was that heading?
No! I just need to trust Jacko with my brother, as
much as I trust Ron with me. At least, I can `talk things over' with my brother
at night.
The afternoon begins with Dad discussing with Jacko
and Ron what he would like them to do through the week while he's involved in
The Village work. And, even though he was in the habit of driving both ways
each day when he was living `at home', that he might stay at the pub for one or
two nights during the week. He'll discuss that with Helen, Marty and Ash.
Karl and I, instead of just listening, take the quad
bikes for a spin. When we stop for a rest, sitting with a can of orange, I have
to ask him the obvious question...
"So, how did you and Jacko get started, playing with
each other?"
I'm fully expecting him to tell me to mind my own
business, or, more politely, to claim the `House Rule', but I'm actually surprised
when he opens up, appearing almost excited, to tell me everything.
"Well, we were having fun, riding, sometimes having a
race and sometimes just riding side by side. After a while, I said, `I need to
stop for a pee.' and he said, `Good idea. I do too.'
"I walked up to the nearest tree, undid my belt,
pulled my zip down, fished out my dick and stated peeing. Jacko came and stood right
next to me and did the same. I was looking at his, the way we do at school
sometimes, you know? And he was looking at mine. `Nice dick!' he said. I answered
him, `Thanks. Yours is too!' Watching each other pee, his started to get hard.
He saw me watching and asked, `I call it my magic wand. You wanna feel it?' I
looked at him. He smiled and I nodded.
"When we gad both finished peeing, I reached over,
wrapped my fingers around it, and it got really longer and harder. Without
asking, he reached over and took hold of mine too. I didn't mind, because I
liked the feel of his fingers. Soon we were both as stiff as we could get, I
reckon, and just kept holding on and playing, you know?
"Then he said, `Wait a minute.' And he let me go, and
pushed his jeans right down. He doesn't wear underpants! `Keep going," he said.
`It feels good.' So, I pushed mine down too, and we both started playing again.
Pretty soon, we were jacking each other off properly.
"He asked, `You like doing this too?' and I said,
`Yeah. Every day.' Then he spat on his hand and kept jerking me off. I was so
excited, I knew that I wasn't going to last long. I told him when I was going
to spurt and he said, `You finish yours, and I'll do mine.' So, we did.
"I spurted first and then watched Jacko waving his
`magic wand' around, spraying his white stuff left and right.
"As we mounted the horses, I thought of stuff that you
and I have done, and I said to him, `You know, it would feel a lot better doing
it with soap, in the shower.' And that's how everything got started. I really
like him, Kurt. I had so much fun with him!"
"He's a lot older than us, you know," I tell him.
"Just be careful, eh?"
"It's OK. We just seemed to `click' with each other
straight away," Karl replies. "Kind of like how you did with Andy. Remember?"
"Yes, I remember. But Andy's our age. Jacko would be
about double that. Maybe even older than Mr Grant," I tell him.
"But, you and Mr Grant have a
bit of fun together, sometimes, don't you?" he asks, almost pleading for some
freedom with Jacko.
How can I deny my brother the pleasure that I've had?
I only hope that Jacko is as kind and gentle as Mr Grant is. However, I'm not
sure that I want Jacko doing with my brother what I've done with Andy! Why not?
I don't know! It just doesn't seem right! Would I go all the way with Mr Grant,
or with Ron? Andy and I have made promises! And then there's Uncle!
"Promise me that you won't do any more with Jacko than
you do with me or William!" I ask, almost demand of my brother.
"Sure. But, what more could we do?" he asks me.
Doesn't he know? I don't want to tell him, or he'll ask
how I know! OMG. I just don't want him to get hurt!
I tell him, "Except, that if Jacko has a new way of
jacking off, you'd better teach me! Deal?"
He laughs, and we head back to the homestead.
After dinner, the six of us play cards. Helen sits
between Karl and Jacko. Opposite them, Dad is between Ron and me. At least,
`things' will be kept under control this way!
It turns out that Jacko is good at poker. He and Ron
win most of the hands. Helen isn't too bad either. A couple of times I throw in
a good hand, so that Karl isn't discouraged. I try not to win more than him. I
can tell from his face when he has a good hand, and I don't mind letting him
`clean me out'! It's all just a game!
"Lemon meringue pie and coffee?" Helen asks, getting
up after Ron wins another hand.
"Toilet break!" Dad announces, and heads for toilet
near the bathroom.
"I can go, outside," Ron comments.
Jacko, Karl and I follow.
We all `hang out' together, away from the house,
`watering' the dust. It's not a race, but Ron and Jacko finish last!
"So, where will you be sleeping?" Karl asks Jacko.
"Which bed did you choose?"
The four of us go into the bunk house. Ron has his
`usual' bed, down on the left. Jacko has chosen the second one on the right.
"That's where I used to sleep!" Karl tells him. "Between Dad and my brother."
Jacko and Karl head for the door. Ron and I are behind
them so they don't see him feeling my `nice glutes' and then help me out of the
door with a friendly swat!
When we go back inside, the coffee and a
delicious-looking pie are on the table. Helen says, "After this, who's offering
to wash?" Then, immediately says, "Thank you, Jan!"
Dad pulls a shocked face, but I can tell that they had
already rehearsed all that.
I'm surprised when Karl offers to help, and volunteers
me as well.
I'm glad that he didn't say
him and Jacko. That would have really looked suspicious!
"Well, if you all don't mind, I might hit the sack,"
Ron says. I was up early today to meet up with Jed and Charlie."
"An early night wouldn't hurt me, either," Jacko
announces.
They both say good night and head out, to leave `the
family' to do the dishes.
The dishes are already scraped and stacked. Dad is
washing. Karl is drying and I am putting away.
"Well, what do you think?" Dad asks us. "Are they good
choices for our farm hands? Marty tells me that Jacko is a really hard worker,
and, we know that with all of his experience staying with his uncle, Ron understands
this place probably as well as I do, maybe better."
I really hope that Karl doesn't start gushing about Jacko,
so I speak up first. "Yes. They both seem to be good choices," I say. "And,
what is more important for Karl and me, is that they are very friendly, which
will make it easy for me to work with Ron and for Karl to work with Jacko when
we are here on weekends. Or the four of us together, if that is needed."
"Five together, including me," Dad answers. "Maybe
some work on the rubbish paddock, even though Ron and Jacko will do most of the
heavy stuff during the week. Digging the holes for the posts will help them to
sleep well at night!"
A possibility crosses my mind, about Ron and Jacko
doing other `stuff' that might help them to sleep well. And I wonder whether
they might do it together! Who knows? They are both grown men, after all. It's
not for thirteen-year-olds to say what adults may do, or not do! Like William
and Mr Grant. Even, like Dad and Helen.
Karl and I lie, side by side, in my bed, after adding
two lots of wetness to my spunk rag. I'm enjoying the feeling of his hand
around my balls, playing with them, or squeezing a still-fat, but softening,
Junior. I know that we are identical down there, and I do exactly the same to him,
so that he can feel what I'm feeling.
Karl confesses that he can't wait to have more fun
with Jacko and his `magic wand'.
He finally heads back to his own room.
I think of Ron who, down at the workers' hut, didn't
get his turn at lying on my back and having fun, while I was face-down. Maybe
next weekend, in between painting, we can spend some time in bed together or in
the shower.
The one thing which I haven't spoken to my brother
about, yet, is Ron. I'm not sure whether Karl is truly afraid of him, or
whether he's just play-acting, but is now taking it a bit too far!
I know that it's late, but I can't sleep. I lie awake,
thinking of what to say to him.
Should I just insist straight out that he's being
ridiculous? Probably not, because Karl will assume that I'm putting him down.
He's only just starting to be positive and helpful! I don't want to upset that!
Or, maybe, should I tell him that Ron is really a nice
guy, like Jacko? I don't want to do that either, because if I tell my brother
what a good guy Ron is, I'll cop a lot of questions in return, and it won't
take him long to put two and two together. He's not quick, but he's not stupid!
Ron and I have made promises of secrecy to each other, even though we need to
be more careful so that we don't get `sprung' doing stuff, like we nearly did
when Dad came down to the workers' hut in the ute. And, like I `sprung' Karl
and Jacko in the shower. Or, is it `sprang'? (English!)
Or, should I just go back to that day in the swimming
hole and remind Karl of what really happened when it was he who actually
`started it'? Ron was just being playful, like we often are with William in the
weir!
I replay that scene in my mind, only to awfully realise
that it could have been me who caused everything. I remember calling out, so
that my brother could hear me, `Ron, don't hurt me!' when I was pretending that
I couldn't swim very well so that I could cling onto his body. And later, Ron
yelled out loudly that if he knew I was lying about not being able to swim, he
would have seen how long I could hold my breath under water with him holding me
down. And when my brother went to attack him, Ron ducked Karl without letting
him take a breath. And then, when Karl grabbed him around the neck from behind,
Ron scrunched his balls.
Am I actually the cause of Karl's fear of Ron?
I really need to talk to my brother! Now!
I creep out of my bed and put my pyjama pants on in
case I see Helen. I close my door and quietly open Karl's, then close it again,
and turn around.
What the ...?
My brother's bed is empty!
(to be continued)
-----
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-----
The parallel
version to this story, `Schoolie', told through the eyes of Tom Grant, has
concluded.
Find `Schoolie' at https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/schoolie
-----
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at
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