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 63:

Wednesday night. Karl `practises' his sucking on me first. Then I do him.

"Tomorrow night," I tell him, you had better spend with William. But don't do that to him. That's just for me and Jacko! All right?"

"OK," he tells me. "But, I think that he would enjoy it too!"

I think: I know that he does! So does Mr Grant! But I don't let on.

"Why don't you get a lot of practice first with Jacko and me, then amaze William with what you can do?" I tell Karl. My brother is happy with that scenario.

Karl is actually pretty good at doing it! And Jacko is going to be surprised and happy!

Thursday night. After dinner. We all go to bed early. Karl sneaks across to William's room, and I visit Mr Grant's bed, and do to him what I've been practising with Karl all week.

 

Chapter 64 – Progress

Despite Karl's enthusiasm for his new `ability', my brother's skill is, as yet, still greatly exceeded by Mr Grant's own. And Ron's. I intend to learn as much from them as I can, and to pass whatever I can on to my brother.

After the quick mutual excitement with Mr Grant, I head back to my own room. Karl is still across with William. Excellent!

I lie and wait, thinking about how Mr Grant likes me. Ron too. They are both different to Andy. I feel my eyes become heavy. Very heavy!

I stir, aware of someone else in the room.

I sit up and look around but see nobody. Not even Karl. But I still feel that someone is here.

"Do not be afraid," I hear from a man's gentle voice. "Blood of my blood has chosen you to be as one of us. Now, you will see what he has seen and you will learn what he has learned."

"Uncle?" I murmur.

 

After an unknown length of time, I open my eyes. I suddenly know some things that I really need to share with Mr Grant! My brother is standing next to the bed, staring at me.

"Are you all right?" Karl asks me.

"Just tired, I guess," I tell him. "Why?"

"I was just, umm, taking a pee, but when I came back, you were making weird noises. It almost sounded like talking, but it was a weird sound. I didn't know what was happening. I was just about to go and get Mr Grant in case you were really sick."

"I must have been dreaming," I say, not wanting to tell him about Uncle, nor to question how long it took him to go to the toilet, knowing where he really was. "Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure that you're OK?" Karl asks again, sliding into bed alongside me.

I automatically turn my back to him and he snuggles up to me, and I can feel that his semi-hard dick has not fully `recovered' from his time with William.

"Positive!" I tell him. "Just really tired. But thank you for checking."

That's all I remember, until my bladder urges me awake and out of bed.

Pancakes for breakfast is a great way to end our week at Jintabudjaree!

 

Friday. At every opportunity now, recess and lunch, if the dust is not coming our way, some of us hang out at the front fence and watch the work being done. It's more interesting than just kicking a football back and forth. And, it has become hard to hear the normal bird calls and songs over the noise of the machinery, and the hammering noises from the pub.

I meant `hang out' as in standing around together, not `hang out' like in the toilet. LOL.

When we are in the schoolroom, we work with the doors and windows closed to help stop the noise and prevent any dust from entering whenever the wind blows from that direction.

At lunchtime, we see Dad heading over to the school. We wave first, and he waves back.

Mr Grant must have spotted him too, because he comes to the gate to join us.

"Got a few minutes, Tom?" Dad asks him.

Mr Grant turns to us and says, "All right. Jake's in charge out here and Jane's the boss out the back in the playground. OK?"

When they are both out of range, Jake, making fun of what we call his sister, jokes, "Hey, so now I'm the deputy Deputy-Sheriff.

We watch Mr Grant and Dad stroll down the track in the direction of the pub. Dad does a lot of pointing as they walk and talk. Mr Grant does a lot of nodding.

They stop near the old church and keep talking.

Soon, they shake hands and separate. Mr Grant heads back in our direction.

When Mr Grant reaches the gate, Jake stands to attention, salutes and says, "All good here, Sherriff! No trouble from this lot!"

We all laugh, including Mr Grant. It's the first time that I've ever seen him ruffle Jake's hair! Jake looks like he's ducking for cover, but I can tell from his cheesy grin that he enjoys it!

"Five minutes, everyone!" Mr Grant calls. We know what that means and people head to the toilets and to wash their hands.

Mr Grant gathers William, Karl and me together before we go inside. "Mr Andersen has invited us all to dinner at the pub tonight," he tells us. "And Helen, Jacko and Ron will be driving in to join us, together with Marty and Ash."

"Why?" Karl asks.

"Ash thought that it would be a good idea to bring everyone up to date on the progress of the work," Mr Grant answers him. Then he says, "Remember that Will and I are the owners of the land, Marty and your dad are the foremen for different parts of the work and Ash is the architect and project supervisor. And Helen is still the Council representative for the construction, so she's coming too. And they thought that it might be rude not to invite Jacko and Ron as well. So, an early dinner for ten people. Marty will arrange it with Mrs Smith."

A thought crosses my mind. I'm glad that we're not eating at Marty's! His dress code would not be appropriate with Helen present. Besides, too many sausages in the room could be a problem. Junior has a knack of being uncontrollable at the worst possible time!

"Neat!" William says. "I love Mrs Smith's desserts, and we won't even have to wash up."

 

Ash has been mostly involved in the work on the pub, while talking with the other workers about the rest. Over dinner, he tells us that sufficient blocks of stone have been delivered to repair or replace those which have crumbled, and the old mortar has all been chipped back.

When the stonework is complete, all of the new glass panels will be fitted. Ash has also been able to locate some beautiful lead-light glass to use as highlight windows.

Photographs of the old advertisements have been sent to Ash's contacts so that exact replicas can be produced, together with some matching ones from the same period. The originals will form part of a local museum room.

The remnants of the old sidewalk have been removed and ironbark timbers have been ordered for a new, wider one. Ironbark is one of our strongest Australian woods and can last for a hundred years or more.

Multiple banks of solar panels have been situated so that they are not visible from the street, but may possibly be glimpsed from farther away. The pub's diesel generators will be retained as a back-up energy source for when the sun isn't charging the solar panels. I don't ever remember the sun not shining here, except on rare occasions! And at night. LOL.

Ash is very pleased with the progress and looks forward to starting the internal upgrade. All of the furniture, furnishings and fittings and been ordered and should arrive in two weeks.

 

The roast chicken is very tender. The peas have a minty flavour and I'm sure that I can taste honey with the carrots. The mashed potato has flecks of yellow through it, which Mrs Smith tells me is mashed pumpkin. I take particular note of the presentation. Apart from being very attractive, it is calling, `eat me'!

Dad is drinking beer with most of the others, except, Helen has a white wine, Mr Grant and Jacko have a `Peter Pan', which I decide to try as well. Hey, the taste of lime is really refreshing! Karl and William have orange.

 

While we are waiting for dessert, Ash continues. On the land between the school and where our old house has been set up, the large machines have finished the levelling and the ditches have all been dug for the pipes. I don't really want to hear all of the details for what happens when you flush a toilet, but I'm pleased that Ash has designed toilets that don't smell!

It's becoming obvious where the three, new, separate areas are going to be. There's the `Village Green' that can be used by everyone in town as well as us kids as an extra-large playground. Then there are the two streets for houses. And finally, there's the larger sports and picnic area at the far end towards the bend in the river.

Ash says that he has ordered all of the plants to landscape the town, including a number of semi-advanced peppercorn trees to be planted down the centre of both streets. When I ask what they are, Ash tells me that the old tree near the side entrance of the pub is one of those, which, he believes is even older than its publicised life expectancy of 50 to 60 years.

It is really exciting to see what is happening to our Village, and I try to imagine what it is going to look like after everything is finished! When I say so, Ash offers to come to the school and show everyone all of his plans, drawings and computer-generated future images, if we are interested. We look at Mr Grant who grins and nods from across the table.

 

Dessert is served. Adults first. What? I've never seen anything like these! Mrs Smith tells me that they're called `parfaits', and she offers to show me how they are made, if I like. I do like! And I follow her to the pub's kitchen. I've never been out here before. It's huge!

"A parfait is not only a combination of flavours and textures," Mrs Smith tells me. "It's also about the colourful appearance, which is why it is served in a tall glass, so that you can see everything. And they are eaten with a long spoon to reach the bottom of the glass."

I see cake, different fruits, cream and jellies in containers, all waiting to be used.

"We can build a parfait in any combination that you prefer," she says. "Would you like to make your own, your brother's and Will's?"

I thank her and ask, "Do you happen to have one bigger glass, apart from the tall, thin ones? William eats more than we do. It would also be a bit of a joke."

She laughs, disappears and then reappears with a `brandy balloon' as she calls it. "Is this big enough?" she asks, grinning.

"Perfect!" I reply. "Thank you."

Having seen the desserts served to the adults, and with Mrs Smith's help to make sure that everything is visible through the glass, I make up layers of cake, cream, different fruits, different coloured jellies and I make sure that there is cream on top with chocolate sprinkles. William's one is really big! I smile at the thought of more than his parfait!

Mrs Smith carries mine and Karl's and I bring William's. When everybody sees it, they cheer and laugh. William is at first embarrassed, then he simply says, "Yum! Thanks!"

 

It has been a great week, and a great night. We say goodbye to Marty, Ash, Mr Grant and William. Karl and I will ride home with Helen after we thank Mrs Smith for dinner and for showing me how to make dessert. I'll have to check Mrs Cameron's Red Book for something similar, or I will add my very first page.

Ron and Jacko are travelling with Dad and they head off first.

As Helen is driving us back, she says to us, "So, boys, next weekend your father will be taking you two into Cunnamulla to pick out his and your clothes for the wedding, and to be measured to make sure that everything fits perfectly.

I think, `School holidays. Andy!' and I say, "Wow, Helen, is it only six weeks away now?"

"Yes," she replies. "And there are still many preparations to do."

"What exactly happens at a wedding?" Karl asks. "We've never been to one before."

"Well," Helen starts, "You know that your father and I have both been married before, so our wedding may not be the same as a lot of others. However, there will be three main parts: the ceremony, the food and the dancing."

"Dancing?" Karl asks, sounding very surprised.

"Yes, dancing," Helen answers. "I think that you'll enjoy it."

"We can dance," I say.

"What sort of dancing can you do?" Helen asks. "The type where you stand and your body makes all sorts of strange shapes and shakes all over while the music is playing?"

I know that she's being funny!

"No," I tell her. "Real dancing. Mum taught us from the time we were little. She and Dad used to dance around a lot and they both taught us how to do it. There was the cha-cha and the waltz and the barn dance, and..."

"Yeah," Karl adds. "That was fun. But we haven't done that ever since Mum left."

"So! Your father can dance, can he?" Helen asks.

Her voice sounds as though she has just discovered a secret that Dad hadn't shared with her.

"Yeah," Karl responds again. "He's pretty good. So are we."

"Very interesting!" Helen says. "I think that we will all have a lot of fun practising, then. And I'm sure that the two of you will be very popular at the wedding if you can dance. Especially with the older ladies."

"You want us to dance with old ladies?" Karl asks.

"And with the young ladies who will be invited," she replies. "You can do shaky moves with them and waltz with the oldies. That will be a real surprise for a lot of people, I'm sure."

I have an awful thought. What if I want to dance with Andy? What would people say? I'll have to work out how we can do that! And I'd better find out how to do `shaky' dancing!

I change the subject. Almost. "Who is coming to the wedding, Helen?"

"Well," she starts. "There is an open invitation to everyone from around here. Maybe a lot of the people who came to Mr Grant's ownership-of-Jintabudjaree day. And I have some friends in Cunnamulla that I'm inviting. Including some old ladies and some younger ones. And some of my relatives."

"I've never met any of Dad's relatives. Are any of them coming?" I ask.

"He hasn't mentioned any," Helen says. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

I don't even know if Dad has any relatives! And who are they? Why has he never mentioned them? Mum's parents are Ma and Pa, but Dad has never told us about his parents or about any brothers or sisters. Hey! Do we have cousins? OMG! Who and where are they?

I think about cousins. Like Marty and William and Jake and Jane and Marty's sister. What if we have cousins, somewhere?

"You've gone very quiet all of a sudden," Helen says to me. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, thank you. I was just thinking," I tell her.

Karl and I have never talked about the possibility of having cousins. We didn't meet any when we were younger, and I've never even thought about it, until right now.

 

The rest of the drive seems to go very quickly while Helen talks to us about the ceremony, what will happen and what Karl and I will do. She also fills us in on discussions that she has had with Mrs Smith about the food and their thoughts about the serving and eating.

Karl says, "If William is coming, you might need extra food!" which causes us all to laugh.

 

Back at Whispering Gums, over coffee in the lounge area, Ron and Jacko tell us that, after breakfast in the morning, they'll take us down to show us what they've done with the rubbish paddock. Then Ron and I will start on the painting of the workers' cottage. Jacko says that he and Karl could follow our quad bike trail, except on horses.

 

As we say good night to Dad, Helen, Ron and Jacko, I whisper to Karl, "You want to come and practise one last time before you and Jacko go horse riding tomorrow?"

 

(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
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