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 87:
"Do
you want to have a coffee while we are waiting for Jacko and Karl, Dad?" I ask.
"I suppose that I
could have another one!" he replies, grinning.
I take that to
mean that he's been here a while, and has already had one.
After putting my
orange bag of presents into the car, we sit and watch the people go by, while
we sip and chat.
"Have you noticed
how buddy-buddy your brother and Jacko seem to have become lately?" Dad asks,
not looking at me, but still staring out of the window.
Chapter
88 – Karl and Jacko's Relationship
Fortunately,
I don't have a mouth full of coffee!
I hate to think where it might have ended up!
"Really?" I ask, buying some time to think.
"Yes," Dad answers. Then, turning to me, he asks,
"Haven't you noticed them together?"
I can't lie, but there's one thought that I want to
steer Dad away from, if possible.
"Of course, I have," I tell him. "And I think it's
great that Karl has a `buddy' to follow around, apart from me." I add,
"Besides, Jacko is really good with horses, which Karl loves. I think that he's
learning a lot from Jacko. Way more than I could show him. I only know which
end eats and which end pees. Not much more than that! Except, I think that they
could use some built-in shock absorbers, for my backside." I grin at him.
"I can't disagree," Dad says. Then, unexpectedly he
adds, "But I think there's more to Karl and Jacko than that."
"You mean, that they're the same mental age?" I smile.
"We've already had that discussion," Dad tells me.
"But..."
"What I have noticed," I say, interrupting, "Is that
Karl is happier than I ever remember. And, if there is any work to be done,
he's keen to pitch in to help Jacko do it. Do you remember how hard it was just
to get him to sweep the outside toilet at our old house?"
"Yeah. I'll grant you that!" Dad says.
"And when was the last time that you ever heard Karl
laugh as much as he does when Jacko tells him one of his corny jokes?"
I hope that I'm leading Dad to focus on all of the
positives of the two of them hanging around together.
"However," Dad continues, holding up his hand so that
I don't interrupt. "I'm a little concerned about the potential bad influence ..."
He doesn't finish. He just looks at me.
I put on my astounded face. "What bad influence could
Jacko have on Karl?"
"No. You don' get it!" Dad answers. "I worry about
Karl influencing Jacko! That guy's a hard worker, and I don't want him slacking
off because of your brother's over-friendliness."
"What?" I ask, but somewhat relieved at the same time
that Dad wasn't thinking what I thought he might have been thinking. It's the
second time that this has happened to me!
"For instance," Dad says. "The other day, they both took
off without telling me. And I know that it wasn't Jacko's idea.
"I'm sure that Jacko would have told you, if he had
known that Karl is supposed to let you know first before he takes off anywhere,"
I answer.
"Well, your brother didn't tell Jacko of my rule, did
he?" Dad says.
"I think he was just really excited about going and surprising
Mum on Christmas Day," I answer. "So much, in fact, that he couldn't wait to
tell William and Mr Grant. Besides, the horses were already saddled and keen to
be ridden. Even I could tell that."
"Are you making excuses for him?" Dad asks.
"Of course I am!" I answer. "He's my brother. I want
him to learn all about horses, and to have a good friend, and to be happy."
Then I hit Dad with, "Why? Don't you?"
"So, you're not jealous of Karl sticking close to
Jacko like he has always done with you in the past?" he answers, avoiding my
question. "Or, annoyed with Jacko for cutting into the friendship between you
and your brother?"
"Hell, no!" I answer back, seriously.
Then I throw another question at him.
"Do you think because we are twins, that we're not
allowed to have our own friends, or that we can't wear different clothes or do
our own things when we have the opportunity?"
"No," he tells me. "It's just that I thought..."
"You already know," I remind him, "that he rides a
horse better than I do. He gallops and I bump up and down. And, I cook better
than he does. He does toast and coffee, and I do apple pies and lamb's fry.
"Yes, but..." Dad starts.
"And he can shoe horses and I can drive a Land Rover,"
I cut him off.
"I know all of that," Dad says. "But things aren't the
same thing as a relationship."
"Well, I have a good relationship with Ron, whenever
he's here, so we work well together,"
I reply. "So, why shouldn't Karl be friends with Jacko? They work well
together. They make a good team. Like, you and Helen are a team. Marty and Ash
are a team. Mr Grant and William are a team."
Just when I think that I've killed off the discussion
about Karl and Jacko, Dad isn't finished.
"Look!" he tells me, pointing. "Here they come now."
Following the direction of Dad's finger, I can't
believe what I see! Karl is carrying a couple of bags in his left hand. Jacko
has one in his right hand, but his left arm is around my brother's shoulders.
They are chatting.
"What do you reckon?" Dad asks me. "Does that look like
more than just a team?"
Shit! I'm suddenly worried for them both! I've warned
them, more than once, to be careful! This, in public, is just going too far!
However, Dad's face isn't angry. There is almost a bit
of a smirk on it.
Jacko raises his eyes towards the Chinese restaurant
and I can tell from his expression that he has seen us sitting at the window,
looking at them.
I really hope that he leaves his arm where it is! If
he takes it away, it will look as though he's been caught doing something
wrong. An admission of guilt!
I learned that for myself. Like the time that I was
caught with my hand in the jar of chocolate biscuits. Quickly pulling my hand
out and hiding the biscuit behind my back was the wrong thing to do. If I had
taken one out, shown mum and asked, `please', it would have been different,
instead of ending up looking like a liar and a sneaky thief!
Is either Jacko or Karl smart enough to come up with a
good explanation for this? Because, if they don't say something first, Dad will
ask, for sure! And I'll bet that it will be to Jacko, something like, `What the
hell were you doing with your arm around my 13-year-old son?' Maybe without the
smirk.
I'm so relieved that Jacko leaves his arm in place!
They enter the restaurant and come straight over to
us.
"Like I told you," Jacko says to Karl, and
so that Dad hears it, "Your dad won't mind, I'm sure! Just tell him." And he
gives Karl's opposite shoulder a squeeze.
What? I can't imagine that they are going to tell Dad
about their `relationship'!
"Tell me what?" Dad asks, repeating aloud my thoughts.
Karl shakes his head. He can't say it!
Leaving his arm in place, Jacko says, "Jan, my little
work buddy here was upset that he couldn't find a present suitable for you, and
he thought that you would be upset with him."
"Really?" Dad asks, looking from Jacko to Karl. "And,
why would you think that, son?"
My brother has tears in his eyes. "Well, I'll bet that
Kurt has something for you! All I could find was a box of handkerchiefs with
`J' on them. Everything else that I saw that you might like, you already have!"
Dad stands up and gives Karl a hug. "The fact that you
looked so hard, is already a great gift for me," Dad tells him. "I'm sure that
you've heard `It's the thought that counts', haven't you?"
"See!" Jacko tells him, giving his shoulders another
squeeze before taking his arm away. "Isn't that what I've been telling you?"
My brother wipes his eyes with his sleeves, then turns
on Jacko. "What do mean by calling me `little'? I'm almost the same size as
you!" He rises on the balls of his feet to bring his eyes level with Jacko's.
We all laugh, which takes away all of the tension that
we were feeling! At least, what I was!
And Karl is right! We're not exactly little anymore.
All over.
And, I wonder something. This is twice in a couple of
days that I have totally misinterpreted what I have seen and heard. I guess
that I'm not as grown-up as I thought I was.
Grown-ups wouldn't take things the wrong way. Would
they?
While he's on his feet, Dad unlocks the car so that
Jacko and Karl can stash their bags inside.
We have a great lunch, joking about things and people
that we have seen and met today.
On the way home, I `let' Jacko sit up front with Dad.
OK, I insist that it's his turn.
Saturday. I share my wrapping paper, tags and sticky tape
(just as well I bought more!) with my brother. We wrap our gifts in our own
rooms so that neither of us sees what the other has bought.
After lunch, Helen and I concentrate on preparing food
for tomorrow, while Dad, Jacko and Karl hang the decorations that my brother
and I made and brought home from school, and more.
Before dinner, Karl, Jacko and I go for a walk, `to
check on the horses'. Well, that's what we told Dad. I have something else in
mind.
"You guys nearly gave me a heart attack yesterday," I
tell them when we are far enough away from the house, "when I saw you together,
with Jacko's arm around Karl's shoulders! Dad spotted you first. When he made a
comment about how buddy-buddy you two had become lately, I thought he had clued
in to what you two do with your pants down!"
I continue, "Can you both please be very careful what
you say and do? And don't go sneaking off alone, or Dad might really become
suspicious. He could come looking for you, and I hate to think what would
happen if he found you doing something!"
I suggest: "If you need to get away together, make
sure that it is for a good reason and that you tell Dad first. Like, `We're just
going to sweep out the bunkhouse'. Or that you intend to give one the workers'
huts a good clean."
"Or both of them!" Karl jokes, looking towards Jacko.
Inside the stables, Jacko grabs me in a hug. "Karl is
very lucky to have a brother like you," he tells me.
Not to be left out, Karl makes it a group hug and
actually tells me, "Yeah. Thanks."
I wonder whether Jacko has a hand on Karl's backside,
like he has on mine.
Three pairs of hands soon do whatever needs to be done
to check that everything is all good.
I'd really like to give the two of them some time
alone together for a while, but it may not be such a good idea, after what I've
just said to them.
Fortunately, while I'm considering the risks, I hear
Dad shout, "Dinner!"
Sunday.
It's unusual for Karl to be up and out of bed, before
me. And be dressed!
He closes my bedroom door and comes over to where I am
only just awake!
He obviously doesn't want to get into bed with me, or
he would still have his pyjamas on.
I sit up, and he hugs me. "Thanks for last night in my
bed!" he tells me. "Jacko and I didn't get a chance to do it!"
"No worries!" I tell him. "Remember, I'll always be
here for you."
And he disappears as quickly as he came in.
I can't stay in bed with him roaming around! I'm
curious. If he goes down to the bunkhouse to wake Jacko up, or to do more with
him, I wonder what excuse he will have for Dad or Helen if they see him come
back from down there so early.
I quickly exchange my PJs for jeans and a T-shirt and
head out, via the toilet for a quick pee.
Helen's already preparing breakfast. I say good morning
and keep walking.
I'm totally surprised when I see Karl and Dad, sitting
beside each other at the dining table, holding coffee mugs.
"This is rare!" Dad tells me, looking up. "You not
being the first one up."
I can't tell him why. But Karl knows. He really
drained me last night. Twice. No wonder Jacko likes him so much!
"Why don't you grab a coffee then come and join us?"
Dad says.
Heading back to the kitchen, I notice that Jacko is coming
this way, so I make him one too.
While he's saying good morning to Dad and my brother,
I present him with a mug. He looks at me strangely. Does he think that Karl is
me and I'm Karl?
I sit opposite Dad. Jacko, next to me, is opposite
Karl.
My brother says, "Dad, I think that Jacko and I should
saddle the horses this morning, in case William wants to have a ride before
lunch. He and Mr Grant are going to leave for their holidays straight after we
finish eating."
I catch his glance at Jacko and the grin on his face,
which Dad wouldn't be able to see.
I know what he's doing. Exactly what I suggested to
them yesterday!
Wasn't I enough for him last night? Where does he get
the energy?
He takes a mouthful of coffee, then there is silence
for a moment.
"Good idea!" Dad says.
There is a big grin on Karl's face, but it crashes right
off his chin when Dad tells him, "I'll come down and help you both. Many hands
make light work."
I have to wonder whether Dad is being helpful, or
suspicious.
Karl looks in my direction and shrugs, as if to say,
`Damn! A good idea spoiled!' I can't imagine him saying `Damn!' More likely he'd
use the other word, not Mr Grant's `Truck!'
"Looks like I'm on washing up duty, then," I tell
them.
The grin returns to Karl's face.
Helen, Mr Grant and I have everything ready for when
William, Jacko, Karl and Dad return from their ride. The agreed plan is that we
will eat first, then give presents before finishing with coffee and dessert
(Christmas pudding with hot custard and fresh cream).
My travel mugs are a great hit. Dad congratulates me
on the simplicity of them, and that everyone has his own different colour, so
that nobody's will be together to be mixed up. Like William's and Mr Grant's
with Dad's and Helen's, or anyone's with Mum's, Ma's and Pa's.
All of the presents are very thoughtful, but there are
some that stand out.
We learn that Mr Grant's present to William is going
to be a full art studio at Jintabudjaree, in the same style as the main house.
Designed by Ash.
Also, away from the house, there will be a set of stables
for William's horses, and a small attached unit for somebody to live in so they
can take care of the horses whenever William is away.
I also learn that while Karl was riding to the lookout
with Dad, William held back and asked Jacko if he'd like the job of caring for
his horses, whenever Dad reaches the point that he can do without him.
Karl is not happy. Until Jacko says, "I might need an
assistant from time to time. If Jan can spare Karl occasionally. He'd be perfect
as my apprentice. He knows so much already."
That kind of fits in with what Dad had planned for
Karl to do for our farm stay guests anyway.
I love to see my brother happy.
Mr Grant and Dad have arranged to share Jacko as each
of them needs assistance, so he will never be without work, and will have his
own private `pad'.
Hey! There could be some extra benefits for him that I
can see! And for Karl.
It seems that Mr Grant is doing most of the giving.
Dad and Helen are presented with the keys to the new house in town, which was
finished last weekend. Much gushing and thanks!
William hands us both an envelope. "From Tom and me,"
he tells us. "Money for your wallets to spend while you are in Brisbane."
"Thank you so much!" I tell them, and give them both a
hug, holding on to Mr Grant for a bit longer. Or, is he holding me?
Just when I think that we are finished, Mr Grant waves
two more envelopes at us.
Not extra money, surely!
"What's this?" Karl asks.
I open mine and look at everything carefully. "It's a
plane ticket!" I announce, and I check that Karl has the same. I look again.
"It's two plane tickets. One from Cunnamulla to the Gold Coast and another one
back again."
The earliest date on a ticket is next Tuesday, two
days before Christmas.
It's Dad who says, "Helen and I will see you both onto
the plane, and Mr Grant is going to meet you at the other end. Then you will be
the guests of his parents for two nights, and he will drive you to your Ma and
Pa's place in Brisbane early on Christmas Day."
I look at Mr Grant and feel as though I want to cry,
both in joy and gratitude. I do manage to point at him and, like our game,
mouth, `Mr Grant' but I add `Thank you'.
"It's all arranged," he tells me. "My parents have a
guest room that both of you will find very comfortable. "And you will have a
chance to catch up with the guys at the beach."
"Yes," Helen adds. "And, Mrs Thompson is expecting
Kurt to spend Tuesday night at her place, so that he can catch up with Andy."
"How on earth does everyone know all of this?" I ask.
I then discover that Mr Grant gave Dad and Helen a
satellite phone each, the same as his and ours, a few weeks ago. But he asked
them to keep it a secret from Karl and me until today.
Dad reaches into his pocket and Helen into her apron. They
both wave their previously-hidden phones at Karl and me.
No wonder Mr Grant always knew what Dad was doing and
thinking. Sneaky! They must have had the sound turned off!
Remembering what Andy has told me, I say, "If you both
send Karl and me an SMS, we can turn your numbers into contacts. Easy!"
We wave Mr Grant and William off. I'm sure that they
are looking forward to seeing Sam and Mikey at the motel tonight! Or vice
versa. Or versa vice versa. LOL.
I feel Junior start to be happy for them all!
"Were the plane tickets your idea, Dad, or Mr Grant's?"
I ask him as we head back into the house. "What a fantastic present!"
"Let's just say, we talked about it," Dad answers.
I turn to smirking Helen, pointing an accusing finger.
"And, you knew about it, didn't you?"
"Hey," she says. "I know how to keep secrets!" And she
waves her phone at me again.
Karl heads back to his room and I follow him.
"What's this?" he asks, discovering the parcel on his
bed with his name on the tag.
"Just a bit extra," I tell him. "I wanted to give you
more than a coffee mug."
He rips the paper off to discover the khaki chinos,
then stands and stares at me.
"Well, you'd better try them on," I tell him. "But,
I'm pretty sure that they'll fit you perfectly."
"Where are yours?" he asks.
"I didn't buy any for me," I say. "Just some for you.
Merry Christmas, bro!"
He bursts into tears.
"What?" I say. "You don't like them?" He knows that I'm
not serious.
He grabs me in a hug, and I enjoy the feeling of his
emotion.
"You are so good to me!" he whispers through subsiding
sobs.
"You're pretty good yourself," I tell him. "Especially
when you are happy and laughing."
"And at night?" he asks, pulling himself away to
arms-length, and grinning at me.
"Improving all the time!" I grin back at him. "It must
be all that practice you've been getting with Jacko!"
He changes into his new chinos, pulling them right up,
and securing the zipper.
"Love you, bro. Can I help you clean up in the kitchen?"
he asks.
"Hey, nice bulge!" I tell him, and I have a good feel
of his roundness and chunkiness. "And, yes, you MAY."
"You want to practise some more, tonight?" he asks,
grinning his cheesy grin.
"Absolutely!" I say. "Like last night. You were
awesome!" I head for the door.
"How would you feel about Jacko joining us?" he asks.
"Like we used to do with William?"
"That's very funny!" I tell him, turning and expecting
to see his goofy grin.
However, his expression has changed. He's actually
serious!
(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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