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)
Copyright 2013-2022. Robert
Armstrong. This complete work of literary art is protected by US,
Australian and International copyright law. It is the sole property of the
author and may not be reproduced in any form whether in whole or in part
without the prior express written consent of the author.
License is granted to Nifty Archive Alliance, Inc. for electronic publication
on the Nifty.org website. All rights reserved.
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 85:
"I'll go and get
my bag and put it into the car," Archie tells his parents.
He and I head over
to the bunkhouse together.
He makes sure that
everything is packed, including his toothbrush.
As he is about to
do up the zipper, he tells me, "Oh, I forgot something!" And he produces his
tape measure.
It's a happy,
grinning moment before a sad, premature parting.
We hug, and give
each other a friendly last grope.
I think, `Go back
to sleep, Junior. Nothing's gonna happen! He's leaving.'
Chapter
86 – A Major Surprise!
And, I bet that he'll love how we all got the better of
Mrs Taylor, and why.
I'm looking forward to hearing what he thinks when I
share with him the details of what happened in the bunkhouse after dark between
Karl and Jacko, and Archie and me.
Thinking about what Archie did, refusing to pull his
mouth away from Junior when I told him that I was about to spurt, I have to
admit that it ended up probably being the best blow job that I've ever had.
All of the other times that I've shot my stuff in somebody's
mouth, it has felt really good, but with Archie it was different, way better! I
kept holding back, and holding back, until it was no longer possible to hang on,
because I didn't want to embarrass him, not knowing how he would respond to
having a mouthful of my spunk. Then, when it actually happened, the explosion,
it felt incredible! Like the time that I had to go to the toilet and my zipper
got stuck. When I finally got it down and was able to pee after hanging on so
desperately, it was the most fantastic relief! Same with Archie!
And, yes, I remember when William was giving me the
lesson on how to suck Andy (after I insisted that he teach me), we got to the
point where I warned him, but he refused to let go of Junior. Spurting inside
his hot mouth was a total surprise, but it felt great! I actually think that he
kept going because he was enjoying it; not because he was giving me a lesson!
So, now, Archie makes number six! First, there was Mr
Grant. What a wonderful shock that was! Then William, then Andy during the
holidays, and Dave, the steward on the train. Plus Ron
– I don't know what took him so long to get around to it! And now Archie!
Six! Is that normal for a guy my age? Is there
something wrong with me for liking it so much when I'm not even fourteen yet (not
for another eight weeks)? Am I growing up too fast? How old would William have
been when he started doing stuff, and liking it?
I wonder whether my brother has ever let Jacko do it
to him, which wouldn't actually be breaking my rule of Karl having to do stuff
with me first, even though our sucking hasn't gone that far. Sucking is
sucking! OK. But, I didn't specify how it should end,
did I?
So, maybe I should just do it to him and get him do it
to me. Problem solved! LOL. And, he'll be my number seven! OMG. I reckon he'll
love it!
Helen's Sunday lunch is delicious, as usual.
Even though I wasn't one of the last two to sit at the
table, I'm doing the washing up with Jacko. It helps that Karl and I are
wearing identical clothes! Just for fun, we decided to swap again! It's sort of
like being spies, with the perfect disguise.
After we finish the dishes, I even offer to help Jacko
to get the horses ready for some afternoon horse riding, probably for him, Karl,
William and Dad.
As Jacko and I walk to the stables, I hang back a bit,
so that Karl and I are able to swap back, exactly at the spot where we had planned.
Undetected. Jacko isn't confused because he has no idea! Haha.
However, with Dad and Helen it's a different story!
"Are you and Karl having fun at Jacko's expense?" Dad
asks me when I return to the house. "I don't think that he is able to tell you
two apart, even though Helen and I can. I've seen the confusion on his face
sometimes and, unless you two are dressed differently, he's not sure which one of
you he's talking to."
I think, that's true, but it doesn't seem to bother
him which dick he is wanking or sucking! They are both identical.
"Well, Ron had no problem!" I reply. I don't mention
Ron's ability to see auras.
"Yes, but Jacko's different," Dad says. "He's a
simple, hard-working country boy; Ron, on the other hand, is a very bright
young man, studying at university."
"But, it's fun for Karl and me to swap places
occasionally," I say to my Dad. "We tried it on Mr
Grant once, but he was too smart for us! And way smarter than Mr Grumpy was."
"I'm not against you two having fun," Dad continues.
"Just make sure that you don't humiliate Jacko in any way."
"What do you mean, Dad?" I ask.
"Well, if he thought that he was talking to Karl, maybe
sharing a secret about you, and then you laughed at him and told him that it
was actually you, that would be a really cruel put-down!"
Now, I'm feeling worried about tricking him in case he
finds out and then feels really bad.
I know that he's not very bright, but he's clever with horses, a lot of fun,
and a really nice guy! I wouldn't want to hurt his feelings at all.
But, swapping places with Karl is fun. I guess that
it's OK, so long as Jacko doesn't find out! On the other hand, he might enjoy playing
with both twins. But, I wouldn't want him to like me
more than Karl! I have other people to play with. Karl has only Jacko and
William.
I haven't heard the last of it! Helen says to me, "You
know, after I got to know you both, I discovered that there are actually other differences
between you two; not just the eyebrow."
This is a total surprise to me! "Like what?" I ask. "I
can cook eggs and he can ride a horse?"
"Yes, but those are too obvious," she replies. "And
swapping clothes doesn't fool me anymore either. No, there are some other, little
things."
I don't have to ask. I just stare at her, then become aware
of the need to close my mouth.
"To start with," she says, "You sit and walk with more
confidence than Karl does. He tends to slouch slightly at the table and you
walk with more self-assurance and purpose.
"And you stand differently," Dad chimes in. "Plus,
your hand gestures are a dead-set giveaway."
"What hand gestures?" I ask, looking from one of them
to the other. All I can think of is that I am more likely to give someone a
thumbs-up while Karl might give people `the bird'.
Helen says, "When you talk and use your hands, your
palms are usually pointing upwards where Karl's most often point towards the
ground."
I've never noticed! I'll bet that William has, with
his super powers of observation. Is that why he has no problem telling Karl and
me apart?
"Thanks for telling me," I say. "I'll have to practise
slouching more, take smaller steps and turn my palms downwards more often.
Otherwise, Jacko might catch on when Karl and I swap places." LOL.
If Mrs Cameron was here, I'm sure that my last comment
would have earned me a taste of her wooden spoon! And I don't mean in my mouth!
Helen grins and shakes her head.
"Dad says, "Love you!" but then swats me, and harder
than Mr Grant does it! I'm tempted to hop around and rub away the sting, but
decide to stand firm. To be more grown up!
Helen comments, "You two are becoming wonderful young
men. It's such a pity that your mother can't see you changing and growing up.
She is missing the best part of you."
At that, I instantly miss Mum very much! And I feel the
muscles around my mouth do funny things, tighten and my eyes fill with tears.
Helen comes to me, wraps her arms around me and says,
"Sorry, love! I didn't mean to upset you."
I don't exactly cry, just control myself to silent
sobs and overflowing eyes.
Dad joins our huddle and adds one of his arms, around
my shoulders, hugging me strongly.
Dad says, "I imagine that it must be really hard for your
mum at Christmas and on your birthdays. "How would you like to surprise her by being
there on Christmas morning?"
"Are you serious?" I gasp, looking at his face, then
really bursting into tears. Maybe I'm not as grown up as I thought!
I hug my Dad tightly with
both arms, and manage, "I can't think of a better Christmas present to give Mum!
Are you really serious?"
He smiles.
"We should ask your brother before we make any final
arrangements," Dad says. "Then you can leave the rest to me!"
"I'll ask him now!" I announce. Then I give them both
a hug, use the handkerchief from my back pocket to blow my nose and wipe my
eyes, then take off, running, for the stables.
I don't slow down.
Bolting straight through the entrance into the
stables, I call excitedly, "Karl! Karl!"
Looking around, I come to a screeching halt near the
other end. I can't see either of them. Until Jacko stands up in a stall where
there is no horse. Then Karl's head pops up.
I walk over towards them and look into the stall.
"Bad timing!" my brother tells me, pulling his underpants
up to cover his saliva-covered erection.
"What?" I say to them. "Didn't you get enough last
night, and in the showers this morning?"
"Last chance before we go to Jintabudjaree for the
week," Karl chirps. "Besides, Will and Mr Grant should be here soon. You could
have called out and given us a warning that you were coming!"
"We need to talk. Urgently!" I tell my brother. Then I
turn and stare straight at Jacko.
"OK, I can take a hint," he says to me. "I'll just go
and check the bikes." Then he adds, grinning, "Can you make it quick?"
As he comes out of the stall, it's pretty obvious that
my brother wasn't the only one aroused! And Jacko doesn't even try to hide it!
As he leaves us, I quietly tell my brother, "It's OK. If he doesn't get the
chance to finish you off, I'll do it for you tonight."
"So, what is so urgent?" Karl growls at me,
unimpressed and coming out of the stall to face me.
I get it all out in one quick breath. "Dad wants to
know if you and I want to go to Brisbane to surprise Mum on Christmas Day!"
For a moment there is no response from him, just a
blank stare, perhaps letting my words overtake the other feelings that Jacko
was giving him.
His sour face melts into the broadest smile. Then he
blurts out, "Fuck, yeah!"
"Truck," I tell him, and grin.
He pounces on me and gives me a hug. "Truck, yeah!"
"I'll go and tell Dad that you said `yes'. And, I'll
tell Jacko that you're ready for him and that he can come back now. But," I
add, "because of the time, you'd better switch places and do him. I'll finish
you off tonight, like I said. And, I'll add something new for you."
"What new?" he asks.
"You'll find out!" I reply. "But first, you'd better
help Jacko with that hard-on of his!"
After finding Jacko and telling him to swap places
with Karl, I walk slowly to the house.
"Of course Karl said `yes',"
I tell Dad. "I knew that he would. He misses Mum too."
"OK. I'll organise everything," Dad says.
Helen tells me, "OK. Let's have a Christmas dinner
here next Sunday, before you leave." Then she asks, "Does Mrs Cameron's Red
Book have something special for Christmas? Like any secrets on cooking a roast
turkey?"
"I'll check now, while Karl and Jacko are finishing
off... in the stables." I say.
Dad and Helen would interpret that as finishing
saddling the horses. I know however that it also means that Karl should be
finishing Jacko off.
Carrying Mrs Cameron's Red Book, open at the appropriate
page, I tell Helen, "Here's a roast turkey recipe. But we don't have a turkey."
Then I grin, "Would a rooster do?"
If Karl was here, his response would be a loud `Truck
Yeah!' because he would be happy for that sleep-destroying cock-a-doodle-do to
disappear.
"It's OK," Helen replies. "Your dad's taking me to see
the doctor in Cunnamulla tomorrow. I'll pick up a turkey while I am there. Does
the book mention what preparation needs to be done before cooking it? Maybe I
can do some before next weekend."
I show Helen the page that I have open. She takes a
pen and notebook from one of the kitchen drawers and makes some notes.
"But, I'm pretty sure that we won't be able to make a
Christmas pudding in time," I tell her.
"According to Mrs Cameron's book, here, her recipe takes about 5 weeks to do it
properly."
"I'll find a prepared one in Cunnamulla," Helen
replies. "I know a place that sells them. And we should keep the preparation time
in mind for next year."
"I have idea," I say. "What if I also make some
different fruit tarts, not just apple? We can have them with our coffee. I'll
make them all the same shape, and whatever fruit is inside will be a surprise
for the person when they bite into it."
"You are amazing!" Helen tells me. "I would never have
thought of that! Would you like me to buy some different fruit for the fillings,
tomorrow?"
I nod and reply, "Thank you."
We share a hug.
Helen sets about preparing dinner, predictably refusing
my offer of help.
I decide to head back across the yard to see if
everything has been `finished'.
From the verandah, I see my Dad's
back disappearing through the doorway to the stables!
Oh, ship!
I know that he won't have given Karl and Jacko any
warning that he was coming!
I hope that those two stopped at giving Jacko a
quickie! Really quickly!
I hear Dad angrily shout, "Karl! Jacko!" Then there is
silence!
Oh, no! It sounds like he's sprung them! Jacko's time
with us is going to be over! He could end up in gaol depending on whether Dad reports
him to the police. Maybe Chad will have pity on him and just give him a good
talking to! Would he do that? Can he even do that?
Should I hurry over to see what Dad has caught them
doing? Or stay here on the verandah?
I decide to simply walk over as though I don't know anything about anything.
I haven't taken more than a few steps with my hands in
my back pockets when Dad comes out. He doesn't look happy! I stop walking and
wait for him to get to where I am.
I say to him as calmly as I can, "Is everything OK,
Dad?"
"Those two are in big trouble!" he grumbles.
He strides past me and heads straight into the house.
My brother and Jacko must be devastated! How would
they be coping with being caught in the act? I feel the need to give them both
a hug!
I walk the rest of the way, but with more urgency than
before. As I look around, I can't see them anywhere. Are they hiding? Why?
They've already been caught out! It's done!
Then, I notice that two of the horses are gone as
well. I didn't hear them take off out of the other end of the stables. But, they must have!
Have they both run away together so that they don't
have to `face the music'?
What are their brains thinking?
Where could they go?
Mr Grant wouldn't hide them. He would be sympathetic,
but he'd want to let my Dad know that Karl was OK. No,
not there. Besides, Mr Grant would be on his way here by now.
They wouldn't be able to make it to Jacko's parents'
place near Big Town either. It's too far. It would take almost a full day to
ride that distance, and it's now late afternoon! And
they would be caught in the open countryside long before they made it there! Maybe
Marty's?
Why didn't I stop them from mucking around when I had
the chance? I could have prevented all the suffering that's going to happen
now! I just wanted my brother to be happy. And now, his life is going to be
miserable! Just the opposite of what I wanted for him!
Dad will hate him. Well, Karl will think so! The
safest place for Karl to deal with this is right here! With the people who love
him. I love my brother.
And, poor Jacko! The guilt and the pain! I don't want him
to suffer! He must be thinking that his life is over. Or as good as.
Suddenly, an awful possibility hits me!
I have a sudden flash of a nightmare! My overactive
brain sees Jacko taking my brother's life and then shooting himself as well.
All for them both to avoid the humiliation and potential consequences of being
caught enjoying themselves!
Surely not! They wouldn't do that! Why did I even
think that?
It's all my fault!
My stomach churns, and I know that I'm going to throw
up!
And I do.
And again. With tears flowing from my eyes.
I jump when I feel a hand rest on my back.
"You OK, son?" Dad asks. "What's wrong?"
I say the best thing that comes into my mind. "I think
that I ate too much of Helen's rice pudding at lunch. I shouldn't have had
seconds after a large first helping! It was too nice!"
"Yes," he replies. "I agree. Are you feeling all right?"
I confess, looking at him with desperate eyes, "I'm really
worried about Karl and Jacko. Please don't be too hard on them."
He replies, "I hear you. But,
how many times have you both heard me say not to go off without telling me or
Helen, or somebody, where you are going? If you don't come back when expected,
we wouldn't know where to even start looking for you in case you had an
accident. And, if you are worried about your brother, can you imagine how I
feel?"
IS THAT ALL?
What was I thinking, that Jacko could even consider hurting
my brother? And himself?
Dad asks, "Did they tell you where they were going?"
I have to be honest. "No. But maybe they intended to."
"Hmm," Dad mumbles, looking at me. He can tell that I
was crying. "Apart from upsetting you, they have upset me too. Now, I have a
problem," he says. "How should I punish them? Karl isn't a little kid anymore,
and Jacko is a grown man. How irresponsible of them both to just ride off
without telling anyone! And, right when we are expecting visitors!"
"That's a hard one, Dad," I tell him, "I'm glad that
I'm not you. I'd hate to be Karl's father and Jacko's boss right now!"
"Yes, well..." Dad starts. "You'll learn that growing up
does have its painful responsibilities as well as its benefits!"
"Please don't be too hard on them, Dad," I plead with
him. "They're just like a couple of big, excited kids. You've even said that
about Jacko yourself. And they must only have ridden to the workers' hut, or
perhaps up to the lookout to spot Mr Grant when he turns off the road."
"You'd make a good lawyer. You know that?" Dad says,
managing a smile. Then he says, "So, put on your judge's wig and tell me what
you reckon should I do with the two of them."
"Well," I reply, "I heard somewhere, `Make the
punishment fit the crime'. So maybe, because they have taken off on the horses,
you could ban them from riding the horses, for a while!"
"Not bad!" Dad tells me. "How long do you reckon would
be fair?"
"Well," I start, "One day would not be long enough.
Besides, tonight Karl and I are going to Jintabudjaree until the end of the
week, so Karl wouldn't be doing any riding anyway, and you might need Jacko to
be on a horse to do some work around the property this week."
"And banning your brother from riding at all before
you two go to Brisbane might be too much," Dad tells me. "So, how about just no
riding next Saturday and Sunday? They'll have to find something else to do!"
"And, you should make sure that they know why they are
being punished!" I tell him. "To be fair!"
Dad throws an arm over my shoulder. "Don't you worry
about that. That's the first thing that they will hear! Why don't you and I go
and have a coffee, but no more rice pudding!"
"I don't think that we left any!" I tell him, grinning.
"But, I reckon that a couple of Helen's peanut cookies
would go down well with the coffee."
As we walk back to the house, I think to myself, `I
reckon that Karl and Jacko will be able to find something else to do next
weekend!' They'll just have to find a good place to do it!
I joke to my Dad, "I reckon
that there could be a lot of dominoes, Chinese Checkers, Poker and Monopoly played
next weekend!"
"At least," Dad replies, "They won't be the last two to
the table for our Christmas Dinner!"
I'm done with my coffee, with just two peanut cookies,
and lots of thoughts about Karl and Jacko.
I look at my watch. Mr Grant and William should be
here soon, judging by their previous Sunday arrivals. I decide to wander out
into the yard and wait for them.
I look up towards the road. My heart pounds! I'm
horrified by what I see!
"Dad!" I scream. "Come out here! Quick!"
Dad runs to join me. We see Jacko galloping towards
us, leading Karl's horse. Without Karl!
"I knew it!" Dad blurts out. "I just felt that this
was going to turn out badly!"
Jacko heads straight for the stables, and Dad and I
run to ask him about my brother.
"Where's Karl?" Dad yells at Jacko. "What happened?
"I left him behind!" Jacko tells us, but smiling!
"What?" Dad and I say at the same time.
"With Tom and Will," Jacko says.
I relax, but my face, like Dad's, says that I need
more information.
Jacko says, "After Kurt here told Karl that they were
both going to Brisbane to surprise their mother on Christmas Day, Karl was
really excited, and he got the idea to ride out along the road to meet Tom and
Will, and tell them."
Dad asks, "So, where is Karl now?"
Jacko replies, "He wanted to ride back inside the car
with them, to talk. Then he reckoned that they would all get back here before I
could. Cheeky bugger! No chance! On a horse,
I didn't have to stick to the winding track. Haha."
"I'm glad that you're in such a good mood," Dad tells
him. "Because, we need to talk!" Then he turns to me. "Kurt, would you please
go and wait for Tom then tell Karl that I want to see him in here with Jacko
straight away?"
They are both in big trouble! Maybe Jacko has no idea yet,
or what for. Did Karl ever let him know that he was supposed to tell somebody
before he rode off?
A race? I'm expecting Mr Grant's `Beast' to be raising
dust right behind the horses. Instead, it enters the yard slowly. I see Karl
and William in the back.
"Hello, Mr Grant. Hi, Will,"
I greet them. Then, "Karl, Dad wants to talk to you down in the stables.
Straight away!"
"Am I in trouble?" he asks, as he passes me.
"I can't say," I tell him. "But, between here and the
stables, you'd better think of a good excuse for nicking off without telling
anybody." Then I add, "And Jacko's down there too. Make sure that you don't get
him into trouble!"
Karl heads for the stables. When he gets close, he
slows right down.
"What's going on?" William asks me.
I make a zipping motion across my lips.
Mr Grant, thankfully changes the subject. "So, you're
going to surprise your mother on Christmas Day, are you?"
"Yes," I answer. "Karl and I are excited and I know
that she definitely will be."
"When are you going?" William asks.
"I don't know yet," I tell him. "Dad said that he will
arrange everything for us."
Helen is waiting for everyone inside, with hot coffee
and a pile of cookies on the table.
Apart from letting her know that Karl and Jacko have
returned and that they are OK, the conversation is mainly about my brother and
I surprising Mum for Christmas, and avoiding any mention of what might be taking
place across in the stables.
Helen, Mr Grant and I are doing all of the talking,
mainly about the travel, connections and where we might stay until Christmas
Day.
William has one cookie in each hand, ready to replace
the one being munched in his mouth.
Karl and Jacko, both wearing expressionless faces,
follow Dad through the door, and he indicates that he would like Helen to join
them in the kitchen.
Both William and Mr Grant exchange glances with me, also
some funny expressions and nods towards the kitchen. No words. Again, I zip my
mouth.
I'm surprised when four smiling people return from the
kitchen looking all buddy-buddy! Helen and Karl have an arm around each other's
waist and Dad's hand is resting on Jacko's shoulder.
Surprised, but happy, that they have worked it out. I
scan their faces, looking for some indication of... well, something.
Then, I see the tip of Karl's tongue poked out at me.
What the hell does he mean by that?
I'll find out tonight with his balls tightly held in my hand.
Jacko and Karl grab a cookie from the table and
continue straight back outside, obviously heading to the stables.
William, taking another cookie, follows them. How can
he not be fat?
Dad, following them, is called back by Mr Grant.
"Jan?" I hear. "Can we chat? Maybe take a ride on the
bikes?"
They head out together and follow the other three down
towards the sheds.
That leaves Helen and me to deal with dinner.
I keep wondering what Mr Grant could want to talk to
Dad about.
"Good morning, everyone," Mr Grant says to us.
"Good morning, Mr Grant," we chorus back at him, then
sit down at our desks when invited.
"Is everybody excited that we only have one week of
school left before our Christmas holidays?"
"Yeah!" we all reply.
"Well, this is an especially exciting time for one of
you, isn't it?" Mr Grant says, looking around as though he is trying to find `Where's
Wally?', or waiting for him or her to confess.
We all look at each other. Nobody that I know of is
having a birthday this week. We've all had our birthdays and cards, signed by
everyone, and our parties, this year.
Mr Grant begins to point at everybody one at a time,
moving his finger from one side of the room to the other.
As his finger pauses at each person, it causes me to
wonder what `an exciting thing' might be for them.
That one. Is she going on a long trip? Like Karl and
me.
That one. Are his parents going to have a baby? Like
for Karl and me.
When he points at me, I think, `Yes, I'm really excited
to be giving my Mum a surprise on Christmas morning!
His finger moves on. And on. And finally points at
William.
It doesn't move any further.
Mr Grant and William have obviously discussed this,
because William begins to explain. "Yes, I'm really excited," he starts. "But
ship-scared at the same time."
A lot of little kids think that he has said `the other
word'! They gasp and there are exclamations of "Ooo-ahhh!"
and "Umm-mah!" and "William said a naughty word!"
"Ship!" William tells them, grinning. "I said `ship'. S-H-I-P."
We who know Mr Grant's suggested substitute words, laugh
at the little kids' reactions.
William says, "This is my last week of school. At the
end of this week, I will be leaving."
"When are you coming back, William?" Little Eric asks.
"After the holidays?"
"I won't be coming back next year when you do, little
man," William tells him.
"Why not?" David asks.
"I've finished school," William says. "I've been here
since kindergarten, and after Christmas I will turn eighteen. Everybody has to
be finished school one day."
"But I don't want you to be finished, William," little
Eric tells him, and he bursts into tears, perhaps remembering the day when he
wet his pants and William was understanding and really helpful to him. William
also looks after him when we play soccer on Fridays for sport and always makes
sure that Eric gets lot of turns at kicking the ball.
William does exactly what I was about to do myself. He
goes across to Eric and hugs him. Eric wraps his arms around William's legs and
says among his sobs, "I wuv you, William."
"I love you too, little man," William replies, hugging
him with one hand and ruffling his hair with the other. "Next year, would you
like me to come and visit you sometimes?"
Little Eric looks up at William, his big eyes full of
tears, and nods, `Uh-huh!'
William kneels down and Eric wraps his arms around
William's neck.
Eric asks, "Will you come and play soccer wiv us,
William?"
"Only if I can play on your team, little man!" William
answers.
Eric wipes his eyes and his nose on his sleeve, and
smiles. "Thank you, William!"
Mr Grant finally speaks, "So this Thursday, we will be
having a really big party before we go on holidays."
David pipes up, "We used to give presents on the last
day of school, but my mum said that it wasn't really a good idea because some
people may not be able to afford them."
"Not even one present for just one person?" Mr Grant
asks.
"We tried that too," Jane offers. "After last year we
all agreed that we wouldn't do it anymore. And not even giving each other a
Christmas Card, either. Because if 10 people each gave a card to everyone else,
that would be a lot of cards!"
"Ninety cards!" I say, my brain rapidly doing the 10x9
maths. Plus more, for Mr Grant.
"I have an idea," Mr Grant tells us. "What if I make
up some notes with a person's name on the top of each one. I'll give you two each,
and before Thursday, you can write something nice about them? You can fold them
and keep the people's names a secret. When I read them all out during the
party, everyone will receive nice surprises. And you can get your parents to
help you, if you like."
"So, we won't know who wrote the things about us?"
David asks.
"That's right," Jake tells him. "It's called being `anonymous'."
"That way," Mr Grant says, "You can say something nice
about a person without being embarrassed about it."
"So, only nice things?" I ask.
"Absolutely," Mr Grant says, looking at everyone.
"It's good practice at being kind. I'll make up the names tonight, and you can
take them home, without opening them tomorrow. Just remember not to make it too
long. It's not intended to be a love letter!"
Well, that comment breaks everyone up! Hoots, and
claps and whistles, from people who can whistle!
"What sort of things do you mean, Mr Grant?"
Rose-Marie asks.
"Well, for example," he replies, "If you receive
Jane's name, you might like to say how good you think she is at reading stories
and being helpful to the little kids."
At the end of the day, on the way back to Jintabudjaree,
I have to ask: "So, Will, what will you be doing next year instead of coming to
school?"
He answers, "I'll probably spend a lot of time with my
dad, travelling, meeting some famous people that my dad knows and showing them my
paintings and drawings."
He sounds kind-of happy, but he doesn't look all that
excited.
"Aren't you happy about that?" I ask him, pointing at
his expression.
"Yes. I guess," he replies. "But I'll miss everyone at
school. Not going to school when everyone else does is gonna feel weird." He
looks at all of us and grins, "Trucking weird!"
We take our bags to our room and, with our door
closed, I remind my brother, "It's Monday night. You know what that means?"
"What?" he asks, playing dumb. He knows!
"So, are you going to do with William what you and I
did last night?" I ask, grinning.
"That was fucking awesome," he replies, not bothering
to use Mr Grant's polite version. "Maybe he won't want to do that. But, I'd love to practise more with you!"
"Not tonight, though," I tell him.
"Why not?" he asks.
"Because William will be expecting you. That's why!" I
reply. "Besides, at the end of the week, he and Mr Grant will be going on long
holidays, and goodness knows when you will see William again. He might not even
come back here next year when Mr Grant does."
A look of horror appears on Karl's face.
"Then what will I do?" he asks.
"There's always me," I put to him. "But, what about
Jacko?"
The grin returns to his face. That same goofy grin!
(to be continued)
-----
If you like the 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, though maybe not
immediately. Please be patient.
-----
The partly-parallel
version to this story, `Schoolie', told through the eyes of Tom Grant, gives
the backstory specifically for Tom, William, Andy and Jintabudjaree.
Find `Schoolie' at https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/schoolie
-----
If you're interested, I have 26 (A-Z) short stories
at
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-friends/massage-tales
-----
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