Date: Sun, 7 Mar 2010 03:42:34 -0800 (PST) From: Wombat Subject: 'The Old Valley Road Hotel #60' {Wombat} ( MM SciFi Anal Size Musc Biker ) [ 60 ! ?? ] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The Old Valley Road Hotel. By Wombat. ------------------------- Any constructive comments are appreciated. I'm at 'bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au'. ------------------------------------ Chapter 6 Part 5: Christmas Day. ------------------------------------ ------------------------------------ Part 60: Two Old Ladies. ------------------------------------ Back on Earth again, all three jumped into the swimming pool and washed off the Martian dust as well as the sweat and semen. They swam around underwater. Pan playfully bunted Scott in the stomach with his horns. Scott grabbed Pan by the horns. But then Pan applied a force field to his horns. The field expanded in Scott's grip and Pan was easily able to slide his horns out of Scott's grasp. Scott flew underwater to try and grab Pan. However, Pan made the pool water go all milky and put up a telepathic shield that prevented Scott from detecting him. Scott flew around the pool but Pan eluded the big young man easily. Scott bumped up against Derek and held him firmly. Derek twisted around in Scott's arms and planted a luscious kiss on his lips. Scott held him tight and returned the kiss passionately. They writhed around together in each other's grasp with rising ardour. Derek wrapped his legs around Scott's waist and positioned his anus against the head of Scott's stiff hard cock. He relaxed his arsehole and with a few thrusts, Scott slid the whole length of his cock up Derek's force-field lubricated arse. Derek revelled in feeling Scott's cock ramming up to the hilt up into his torso. He kissed Scott fervently as Scott continued thrusting his cock up Derek's arse. Pan cleared the water in the pool. Watching the two powerfully muscled human males fucking got him highly aroused. His penis stiffened rapidly. He transformed it into a smooth human-style cock and came up behind Scott. He set up a force field around it that made it deliciously well lubricated. He grasped Scott around his slim hard muscular waist and positioned his rampant penis against Scott's anus. Scott relaxed his arsehole and with a few fervent thrusts, Pan rammed his cock home up Scott's arse into the depths of his torso. They synchronised their thrusts and enjoyed each other's bodies tremendously. Scott delighted in being the meat in a fuck sandwich. It was not long before all three exploded into orgasm simultaneously. A cloud of semen gushed from Derek's penis out into the water. Derek's mouth was wide open in a soundless scream. Scott grasped Derek hard as he revelled in shooting his load into the depths of Derek's bowels. He revelled in feeling Pan fill his bowels with the ancient god's semen. It was a quick and joyous fuck for all three of them. The combined orgasm finished. They hung together underwater in the pool relishing the feel of each other's bodies. Afterwards they trooped into the kitchen of the Reeves house. Scott commenced preparing Christmas dinner using as a guide the detailed instructions left by his mother and grandmother. Derek helped. Scott had forgotten to defrost the leg of ham. Derek showed him how to thaw it. Scott put his hands on either side of the ham and directed energy into it, causing all the molecules to speed up their vibrations and heat up. The ham was defrosted in a couple of minutes. Derek had done the same thing with the Christmas turkey earlier that morning before the trip to Mars. Scott unwrapped the plastic from around the Christmas pudding and put the pudding in the oven to cook. Scott had already invited Pan to join him and Derek for Christmas dinner. Pan had readily agreed. He stood around and watched while Scott and Derek got the meal ready. Scott checked the turkey roasting in the oven. It was still not ready and would not be ready for some time. Derek advised against beaming extra heat energy into the cooking bird to speed up the cooking. That would make the meat tough unless one was very skilled and careful. In the meantime, Scott decided to telephone his parents at Noosa in Queensland and give them his Christmas greetings. He checked his parents telepathically and sensed that the time was right. His father and Uncle Henry were having quite a long conversation about the dream that Max had had the previous night. That conversation was drawing to a close. His mother was laughing and joking with her two other brothers and their spouses. Scott was naked. He felt mighty and powerful. His arsehole felt deliciously well fucked. All the holes caused by Pan's penetrations earlier on Mars had healed fully. There was no sign of any scars on his body. His magnificent and massively muscled tanned body was unmarked. When he was fucked by Pan on Mars, changes occurred in him. He had been transfigured again. Information had been dumped into his brain. He was no longer a teenage boy. He was a powerful, puissant, potent and very muscular male human god. He strutted gracefully over to the kitchen phone with his huge muscles bulging. He dialled the number of Aunt Rosalind's house in Noosa. Aunt Rosalind answered the phone after a few rings. "Good morning," she said briskly. "The Kinnear residence. This is the lady of the house speaking." "Good morning, Aunt Rosalind. Scott here. Merry Christmas! How are you?" Scott tuned into her mind telepathically. He was determined to be nice to her. He sensed the instant of surprise. "Good morning, Scottie," she replied. "This is a surprise. And Merry Christmas. Your voice is so much deeper. I almost didn't recognise you." He laughed. "Thank you. How are you keeping?" "I'm well, thank you. We are all well here at this end. Everyone's settling in very well and we're all getting ready soon for Christmas dinner. How about you?" "Excellent, thanks. No disasters here at home and Christmas dinner is coming along fine. Thanks to Mum and Granny for all the detailed instructions they left me." "We've all been to church this morning. Your grandfather and Father Baines did an excellent service together. The church was quite full. A lot of people were there. Did you go to church this morning?" "No, I didn't," said Scott cheerfully. "Oh, Scottie, you really should have," Aunt Rosalind said reproachfully. "One should celebrate the Birth of the Baby Lord Jesus on Christmas Day. Don't you think one should do so in the proper manner by going to church?" "'I worship the Lord from the temples of high mountains. I praise Him from the shores of the glittering seas. I worship the Lord from the cathedrals of forests...'" "Are you on drugs?" His aunt interrupted him. "No, Aunt Rosalind, I'm not," said Scott curtly. "May I please speak to one of my parents." Aunt Rosalind was somewhat taken aback by the change in Scott's tone. "Very well, then," she said. "I'll go and get your father. He's been deep in conversation with my brother Henry out on the balcony ever since we got back from church. They've been talking together quite long enough." "Bitch!" thought Scott as she put the phone down. Pan and Derek laughed. A few minutes later Max Reeves picked up the phone. He sounded worried because Rosalind had told him that she thought Scott was on drugs. After the initial exchange of greetings, Scott asked his father straight out whether Aunt Rosalind had told him that she thought Scott was on drugs. When Max said yes, Scott told him that he had quoted from the English translation of a poem written by Saint Hedwig of Marienfels. Sister Hedwig of Marienfels had been canonised as a saint the previous year by Pope John Paul II. Hal Wray, whom Max had met in the Lion and Unicorn Hotel in Ringtail Springs, had translated the poems of Saint Hedwig from German many years ago. Derek was Hal's friend and knew the poems. Scott's grandfather, the Reverend John Houston, had often used the poems as texts for his sermons. Max chuckled when Scott told him. He was going to tease Rosalind for not paying attention to her father's sermons. She clearly had not recognised the quote from one of her father's favourite poems. Scott said to Max that he should give her hell. After that, Max lightened up considerably. They chatted and laughed together. Max was impressed how mature Scott sounded. Scott's voice had deepened noticeably and he did not speak like a teenager any more. Something was happening to Scott but Max knew in his bones that it was all good. He was happy. Scott told Max that Derek and a friend of his were joining him for Christmas dinner. Max said that was a good idea. Then it was the turn of Veronica, Scott's mother. Before she picked up the phone, Max had a quick conversation with her and reassured her that Scott was most definitely not on drugs and that everything was all right. He told her about the quote from a poem by Saint Hedwig often used by Veronica's father as a sermon text. Veronica laughed. She was relieved. She had been quite worried when her sister Rosalind told her that Scott was on drugs. Veronica chatted happily to her son left behind in Ringtail Springs. She was glad everything was going well back home. Scott thanked her for the detailed instructions for preparing the Christmas dinner. He asked her to pass his thanks on to Granny Reeves as well. Veronica hoped that Scott wasn't making too much of a mess. Scott said he'd try and have everything tidied up by the time she got back home. She could hear the laughter in his voice. He was taking the mickey out of her. She was quite amazed how like Max Scott sounded. Max teased her quite often and Scott sounded just the same. She worried when Scott told her that he had invited Derek and a friend for Christmas dinner. Maybe there would not be enough food. Scott assured her that there was plenty to go around. She and his grandmother had cooked enough for an army. Veronica protested that she had no intention of feeding an army. The food was to last him until they all got back home. Scott said with a laugh that there were no worries on that score. There really was lots of food, tons enough. Veronica asked after Derek. She liked him. He was so gorgeous and muscly. She was curious about Derek's friend but Scott said she had never met him before. Both the friend and Scott were going to help Derek do up the old hotel on Valley Road. Veronica said that was a good idea. Scott could learn some useful skills. As the discussions and conversations between mother and son continued, the dinner gong sounded in the Kinnear house to announce the imminence of Christmas dinner. Veronica said her goodbyes and went to prepare herself. Derek opened up the oven of the AGA stove and announced that the turkey was nearly ready. He called up some fairies and pixies and they all set up the dining table in minutes. Scott remembered that he had his Christmas presents to open. Derek had removed them from the cupboard in the living room and thoughtfully arranged them under the Christmas tree with all the lights switched on. Scott looked at Derek and asked if he had any Christmas presents. He shrugged. Derek: << I don't need any more Christmas presents. I've got you. >> Scott hugged him. Pan: << I've been around so long that I don't need Christmas presents. Life's sweet. >> Scott sat down with the others next to the Christmas tree and opened his presents. They had been left in the cupboard when the rest of the family left for Queensland. Scott had received strict instructions not to open them before Christmas Day. He received some books, assorted handkerchiefs, some CDs, some socks, a couple of ties, some computer games, a body-building magazine, a bright red muscle shirt, a rugby football autographed by the players in the Rhinos rugby league team and a box of chocolates. He smiled happily. << Not a bad haul. And it's been a great Christmas, thanks to you two guys. >> Somewhat to Scott's surprise, Christmas dinner turned out to be an excellent meal. All three enjoyed themselves very much. The wines that Derek had produced from the cellar of the old hotel were excellent. Scott leant back in his chair and burped loudly. "I'm as full as a tick," he announced. Pan: << You mean if you ate any more, your beautiful muscular belly would bulge out just a little. >> They laughed. The Christmas pudding contained a number of the old fine silver coins, as tradition demanded. Scott's grandmother had made the pudding. Each slice of pudding had at least one or two silver coins in it. According to Scott's grandmother, tradition also demanded that the coins be handed back and replaced by modern decimal currency. The modern cupronickel coins would have left a bitter metallic taint in the pudding. Derek and Pan decided just to hand the coins back to Scott so he could return them to his grandmother. Scott had three coins, a small silver threepenny piece, a silver sixpence and shilling. They were minted during the reign of Kings George V and George VI. Pan had two sixpences. One was minted in the reign of King Edward VII. Derek scored the two-shilling piece. He rasped the remnants of Christmas pudding off with his tongue and examined it. It was an Australian coin minted in 1922. On the obverse was the head of King George V. Derek translated the Latin inscription surrounding the king's image, "George the Fifth, by the Grace of God, King of All Britons, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India." He looked at the other two with twinkling eyes. << This coin was minted when I was in Durban fucking Albert. That was when the British Empire had reached its greatest extent. It was at its zenith. Britain was the most powerful nation on Earth. The British Empire girdled the planet. >> In his mind he had an image of the battleship 'King George V' berthed in Durban Harbour in 1922. He looked at the coin again and remembered something his grandfather Pascoe had told him: "His Majesty George the Fifth, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland and the British Dominions beyond the Seas, King, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India." Pan looked at Scott. In his mind formed the words "Emperor of Earth and Her Dominions in Space". Pan: << Scott, you could be that man. >> Derek looked at Scott too. Derek: << You could be too, if God chooses you for the job. >> Scott shuddered. The weight of responsibility seemed too much to bear. He was so young. Derek smiled kindly. << Don't worry, mate. If that happens, we'll all be there helping you. You certainly won't be alone. >> Pan: << I am thinking, Scott, that you have what it takes. You have the potential. >> The front doorbell rang. Scott: << Who could that be? >> Derek reached out with his telepathic sense and perceived the minds of Miss Lavinia Longbottom and Mrs Chrissie Watson. They were two old friends of Scott's grandmother. He recognised them from the time Scott had attended church with his family on the Sunday that Derek had gone away with Hal to South Australia. The two old ladies had sat the other side of Scott's grandmother who was sitting next to Scott in the pew. He passed the information to Scott and Pan. Lavinia Longbottom had been the librarian of the town library. She had retired and was now the curator of the town's museum. She had never married. Chrissie Watson was a widow and a pensioner. Her husband had died many years before. Both the ladies lived in Church Mews near Scott's grandmother. Scott lifted an eyebrow. He looked around at his companions at the table with a wry smile. Scott: << Those two old ladies have come round to visit me. And none of us have any clothes on. We're all starkers. Derek, those 'God's Man' tattoos on your shoulders aren't going to go down well with those two old dears at all. >> He looked at Pan. His smile became even wrier. His teeth gleamed. << Those two old ducks are going to freak out completely when they see you. They're going to think we're supping with the Devil. >> Pan: << Don't worry. I shall transform myself into a decently clad human form. I've done it many times before. And you two need to put something on to cover your genitals. I'm sure you can do it. >> Derek magicked into existence a pair of blue speedo-style bathers on himself. He looked terribly sexy. His tattoos faded from view. Scott stood up. He magicked into existence on himself a white cache- sexe. He had seen them on the Internet. This cache-sexe was a pouch made of synthetic material that held his genitals like a purse with a piece of elastic around his cock and balls like a purse string. It was held in place with a white string around his waist. There was nothing between his legs. His splendid muscular arse was naked. Derek giggled. << That's going to tickle the old ladies' fancy. I wonder what they're going to think of that. >> Scott smiled confidently. Scott: << I don't particularly care. >> Pan and Derek laughed. The doorbell rang again. Scott strode towards the front door. His huge muscles bulged and stretched as he walked. Derek: << We'll see you in the living room. It is a bit of a mess in here. >> Scott opened the front door. The two old ladies on the front verandah stood speechless. They stared pop-eyed at the tanned, very muscular and very broad- shouldered, almost naked young giant towering over them and filling the front doorway. They were gob-smacked by seeing his mighty arms, shoulders, neck, torso and legs packed with huge hard chiselled muscles. Every muscle, vein and sinew stood out. It was as if there was no fat at all under his skin. "Miss Longbottom, Mrs Watson, Merry Christmas," said Scott cheerfully. "This is a surprise." Lavinia Longbottom recovered herself first. "Merry Christmas to you, Scottie. We didn't see you at church this morning so we'd thought we'd better come and see how you are." Scott laughed. "Well, I'm certainly not lying unconscious on the back lawn with a bottle of gin in my arms." Lavinia smirked. "No, obviously not." "Merry Christmas, Scottie," said Chrissie Watson recovering herself. "I must say, you have grown so very big. Esme Wright and Roma Biggs said how big and strong you've become. They saw you in the supermarket yesterday. Jim Foreman too said he saw you last Friday night. He remarked how big and muscular you had grown. But it is a surprise seeing you like this. You have got such big muscles. I must confess you've grown quite a bit bigger since I saw you last and it wasn't all that long ago." Her eyes went down to Scott's cache-sexe, which only just covered his sizeable genitals. Scott smiled. "We've been in the pool. We didn't bother getting dressed for Christmas dinner." "That swimming costume of yours doesn't leave much to the imagination," remarked Chrissie. Scott grinned. "Was it a Christmas present?" asked Lavinia with a smirk. "I wouldn't be surprised if one of your sisters had given that to you given your sisters' senses of humour." "Or was it that uncle of yours?" asked Chrissie. In Chrissie's mind Scott sensed that she was referring to Uncle Graham Kinnear. She considered him rather odd. Perhaps he was a fitting husband for that Rosalind Houston whom she did not like. She thought Rosalind was a snob. Scott smiled. "I'm not answering any questions like that and I'm certainly not playing any guessing games. Why don't you both come in? It is hot out here." Chrissie offered him a little parcel wrapped in a paper table napkin with holly prints on it. "Look," she said. "This is some Christmas cake that we thought we'd bring around for you. I know it's not much for a big fellow like you but..." "Thank you," said Scott warmly. "That's kind of you to think of me like that. Do come in." "Have you got company?" asked Lavinia. "I've got a couple of friends around here," replied Scott. "But that's all right. We've just finished Christmas dinner." The two old ladies followed Scott inside. "It's certainly cooler in here than outside," remarked Chrissie. Scott led the two ladies into the living room. He saw that Pan had already morphed into a tall, broad-shouldered, good-looking young man with a muscular, athletic build, tanned skin and a hairy chest. He had curly dark brown hair and intelligent dark brown eyes. He was as tall as Scott was and he was wearing yellow board shorts. Scott introduced Derek first. The two old ladies were interested to meet the young man who lived in the old service station next to the Old Valley Road Hotel. They thought he was very handsome and admired his big muscles. Scott received a telepathic cue card and introduced Pan as Sylvester Panic. The ladies were intrigued by this tall attractive young man. "I suppose your surname is pronounced 'Pah-nich' in the old country where you came from," said Lavinia. "Something like that," replied Pan/Sylvester. "I've given up long ago trying to get Australians to pronounce it correctly. Don't worry about it." He spoke in a deep mellifluous voice with an Australian accent. Chrissie remarked how Christmassy the living room looked with the Christmas tree and all the Christmas decorations. She said that she had not seen the house with Christmas decorations for many years. Everyone sat down in the living room as Derek disappeared into the dining room. He returned with a bottle of Para Liqueur Port of 1947 vintage from Seppelts Winery in the Barossa Valley in South Australia. He pulled the cork out with a pop. "We were going try some of this," he said to the ladies. "Would you like some too? I found this in the cellar of the old hotel on Valley Road." "Oh yes please," replied Lavinia enthusiastically. Chrissie assented as well. "Dad would like some of that too," said Scott. "Don't worry, mate," replied Derek. "I've got one of the other bottles put aside for him." He poured a glass for each of them and handed them around. They all took a sip or two. "Oh my! This is a beautiful port," exclaimed Lavinia. "Glad you like it," said Derek with a smile. Scott opened up the little parcel of Christmas cake. "Thank you," he said to the old ladies. "I think we can share this amongst the three of us." "I'm sorry," said Chrissie. "We weren't expecting you to have your two friends here with you. I baked it and we thought that since you would be on your own here without your family, you might like some of the cake. We've all been having a lovely Christmas dinner down at Church Mews. It's a pity Mavis, your grandmother, isn't here to join us. I know she had to go up to Queensland with the family." "No worries," replied Scott. "It's all right, Scott," said Derek. "I don't need anything more." Sylvester smiled. "Scottie, you weren't at church this morning," said Lavinia. "You missed all the excitement. Do you know what happened?" Scott shook his head. Lavinia continued. "You know that earth tremor we had this early morning? That great big marble plaque in memory of Doctor Seth Forsythe on the wall in the church came crashing to the floor and smashed into thousands of pieces. In the hole left in the plaster on the wall is a picture of Jesus Christ! It is almost as if it had been carved there under the plaque. There He is, Jesus, The Redeemer of the World, standing there with His arms outstretched saving us all. I tell you. It's a miracle, a most marvellous miracle. And it's happened right here in St Aidan's Church in our dear little town. We saw it all with our own eyes this morning when we went into the church for the Christmas Day service. It is truly amazing." Scott leant forward on the brown leather couch on which he sat. "A picture of Jesus Christ," he said. "That is quite amazing." "It's more like a stature," said Lavinia. "It's like it's been carved by a sculptor. It's quite realistic. It really is quite miraculous." "I really don't know what is going on here," protested Chrissie. "First there is that earthquake this morning which woke us all up and now Mount Wattabang has this ruddy great big pink, er, er, thing..." Scott interrupted with an easy smile. "I think the word you're looking for is 'phallus'." "Oh yes, very well," huffed Chrissie. "Anyway, this giant thing is sticking right up out of the top of Mount Wattabang for all the world to see. I tell you, it makes you blush to look at it." Derek resisted the temptation to giggle. Chrissie went on. "And then, there is this miraculous picture or stature of Jesus Christ appearing in our church. I really don't know what to make of it all." "Perhaps one is to counteract the other," opined Lavinia. "Perhaps there has to be a balance." Derek said, "I think we live in interesting times." "What do you mean?" asked Chrissie. "Those things that happened today are likely to be signs that there are big changes afoot. These changes will happen, maybe to us all," replied Derek. "Big things will happen to the human race. We, the human race, will face great challenges. If we meet those challenges successfully, we may become important participants in the future of the Universe." "Those are brave words, Derek," remarked Lavinia. Sylvester clapped. Chrissie shuddered. Lavinia drank the remainder of the port in her glass. Derek came over and refilled it. Lavinia admired his muscular grace as he knelt down by the little side table to refill her glass. He was so big and strong and handsome. He was indeed a beautiful specimen of manhood. "Thank you, Derek," she said. "It is a lovely port." "It's a pleasure," said Derek. He offered to top up Chrissie's glass but she refused. "I'm driving," she said. Scott remembered a recent incident when Chrissie Watson had had a little bit too much to drink. She was driving home in her car with her friends when she knocked over a wheelie bin by the roadside with her Nissan Bluebird. He wondered how he could get Lavinia to say something. He telepathically linked up with Derek, who picked up the thought and inserted it neatly into Lavinia's mind. "Very sensible, my dear," said Lavinia with a smirk. "You don't want to knock over any more wheelie bins on the way home. It would be a trifle embarrassing." "Humph!" said Chrissie. She did not like being reminded. She looked at Scott doubtfully. "You know," she said, "that is an extraordinarily brief bathing costume you've got on. If you were in my house, I'd be worried about your bare bottom on my furniture." Scott raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly at Chrissie. "My arsehole is perfectly clean. There's no need to worry about that, Mrs Watson." Derek repressed the urge to lick his lips. Chrissie coloured slightly with embarrassment. "Oh well," she said. "It's your house. You can do what you like while your parents are away." "Oh, Chrissie, don't be like that," said Lavinia. "It is Christmas." Chrissie harrumphed. She changed the subject. "I think I've seen you before," she addressed Derek. "The last time was in the supermarket a few months ago. I had been talking to Veronica Reeves, I seem to remember. Tell me, what do you do for a living?" "I make sculptures out of pieces of scrap iron," replied Derek. He laughed. "Mind you, I haven't had much luck selling them." "I see. And you live up there on Valley Road on your own in the old petrol station?" "Yes." "Do you like it?" "Yes." "It must be nice living up there amongst all the trees. It is a bit of wilderness." "It is." Chrissie addressed Pan/Sylvester. "And tell me, what do you do?" Sylvester smiled graciously. "I'm into landscapes and living things. I'm going to help Derek design a garden for the old hotel on Valley Road." "Are you a landscape gardener?" "Well, sort of." "I hear that the McBrides are looking for a landscape gardener for the garden around their homestead. I'm sure they'll pay you well." "It's a large formal garden in the French style," put in Scott. "Formal gardens aren't really my scene," said Sylvester. "Oh well, never mind," said Chrissie. "You could always give them a try if you're looking for work." "I'm quite busy enough. I have plenty to keep me occupied." "Well, that is a good thing." There was a momentary pause. Lavinia said: "Scottie, have you heard the story about town that your grandmother Mavis Reeves is a granddaughter of Sam Rigby? He was the fellow who was cut open and murdered on the top of Mount Wattabang last century, I mean the century before last. That would make you his great-great-grandson." "I have heard the story," replied Scott. "Have you come across anything to throw any light on that?" "There is a remarkable similarity between your brother Robbie and Sam Rigby. If you compare photographs of Robbie and Sam, you can see that they look very much alike. Archibald McBride, George McBride's great- grandfather took lots of photographs of Sam Rigby before Sam died. Your sisters Jackie and Katie took some nice photos of your brother. Will you be a dear and get your latest family photo album and also that book 'The Photographic Art of Archibald McBride'? I know that your parents have a copy." "Sure. I've seen the book." Scott brought out the family album and laid it on the main coffee table. Lavinia went through it looking for the photographs of Robbie. Meanwhile Scott looked through the bookshelf and found the art book that Lavinia was referring to. It was a big glossy coffee table book written by Myrtle McBride and Lavinia Longbottom. He held it up. "Is this the one?" he asked. "Yes, thank you. It is," replied Lavinia. "I didn't know you helped write it." Lavinia pursed her lips. "Yes, I did most of the work on that book." "And Myrtle McBride took most of the credit," put in Chrissie. Scott put the book on the coffee table next to the open photograph album. Lavinia went through it. She found the sepia tinted photographs of Sam Rigby and laid the photograph album next to the open book. "Well, Scottie, what do you think?" asked Lavinia. Scott knelt down next to Lavinia and looked at the photographs she had selected. They were head and shoulders portraits of both his brother Robbie and of Sam Rigby. Both men had blond curly hair. Their shoulders were bare. The big bright blue eyes of Robbie stood out. The picture of Sam was sepia but it was clear that his eyes were of a light colour. Their faces were similar. The prominent cheekbones, the big eyes, the slightly hollow cheeks, the noses, the sensuous mouths, the thick muscular necks were all alike. There was no denying the similarity. They were both very good-looking hunks; Scott had to admit that. Scott remembered his sister Jackie taking the photographs of Robbie. She had ambitions of becoming a photographer. She had taken a number of photographs in that session. She was pretending that Robbie was a male model. "They certainly look alike," commented Scott. "You can certainly see that," said Lavinia. "They are like brothers, or almost identical twins. I think that it's more than just coincidence. There has to be a relationship." Scott knew that there was a relationship. The Archangel Michael had already told him that Sam Rigby was his great-great-grandfather. Robbie was his brother. The whole family except his mother were descendants of Sam. Scott looked through both the book and the album. He compared the photographs of his brother Robbie and of Sam Rigby. In one pair, Sam was naked and Robbie was wearing a pair of Speedos swimming briefs. They were both side-on looking at the camera and tensing their arm muscles. The triceps muscles stood out in a horseshoe. Sam was very powerfully built. Robbie was a little less so. Robbie was five centimetres (2 inches) taller at 185 cm (6' 1") and ten kilograms (22 pounds, 1 1/2 stone) lighter at 105 kilograms (231 pounds, 16 1/2 stone) than Sam was. Apart from that, they looked almost identical, two powerful and muscular men. Scott found other photographs of his brother and Sam. They were very alike. Lavinia asked Scott to get out the photograph album with the pictures of Hector McKechnie, the father of Scott's grandmother Mavis Reeves, and his parents. She finished off the port in her glass. Derek refilled it while Scott fetched the photograph album. Scott handed it to Lavinia. She quickly found the photos of Hector as a young man. She laid the album open at a black and white photo of Hector wearing the uniform of a mounted trooper in the New South Wales Police Force. He had light coloured eyes and light coloured curly hair. He too was a very good-looking well-built hunk. He looked a lot like both Sam and Robbie. Scott looked at other photos of Hector. The conclusion was clear. However, Scott already knew that Hector was Sam's son. He was not permitted to reveal the source of his information so he kept silent. Lavinia suggested that Scott look at the photos of Hector's putative parents, Police Sergeant McKechnie and his wife. He did so. There was no resemblance. Sergeant McKechnie was quite an ugly man with narrow set dark eyes, dark hair, a long beaky nose, beetling brows, a long ponderous jaw, and a thin mouth visible under a dark moustache. His wife was a plain woman with dark hair drawn tightly back in a bun, a pale thin face, downward-sloping dark eyes, a thin nose and mouth and a small chin. "You can't tell me Sergeant McKechnie and his wife are the natural parents of Hector," said Lavinia. "I won't believe you. It is obvious that they are not the natural parents of Hector." Scott smiled. "Have you asked Granny about it?" he asked. "Yes but she doesn't know," replied Lavinia. "She had asked her father while he was still alive but he never would answer her questions. So I don't know what's going on there." Scott knew from the interlude with the archangel that his grandmother had been told the truth by Sergeant McKechnie when he was an old man but he had sworn her to secrecy. "I have heard the story about town that Hector and his brother Ian were foundlings," said Scott. "I remember asking Granny about it and she said it was a load of rubbish and I shouldn't listen to gossip." "I'm not surprised," laughed Lavinia. "Have you asked Granny about your theory that we're descended from Sam Rigby?" asked Scott. "What does she think of it?" "I have asked her and she's not at all interested. She says it's all just supposition on my part. You know, Scottie, I'm so glad you're interested in what I've found. Thank you so much for lending a sympathetic ear to me. I can't really talk to your grandmother about it at all. She just brushes me off. And your father isn't all that interested in it either. But thank you, Scottie, for listening to me." "My pleasure," replied Scott. "I am very interested in what you have put together. What put you on this?" "I was getting the book ready for publication and I was looking at all the photographs that Archibald McBride had taken particularly the ones of Sam Rigby. I was sitting at my desk in the museum when your brother Robbie came up to me. When I saw Robbie, I thought I was seeing Sam's ghost. I just stared at him thinking he was Sam. He's so like Sam. He must have thought I was being rather strange." "He probably thought you were having a senior's moment," laughed Chrissie. "Quite possibly," said Lavinia. "But Robbie and Sam do look awfully alike. It was then that I decided to follow it up further." She looked at Scott thoughtfully. "You know, Scottie," she said. "If you allow for the colour of your black hair, you look very like your brother Robbie and like Sam Rigby. In fact, I think you are even better looking than Robbie. You are quite a beautiful man in my opinion." Scott smiled. "Thank you," he replied. "Oh good heavens, Lavinia!" protested Chrissie. "You shouldn't say things like that. You'll make the boy swollen headed." Scott laughed. "I don't think so," he said. "I wouldn't dream of being swollen headed." Everyone but Chrissie laughed. Lavinia was highly amused by Scott's comeback. The two old ladies were thinking how like Max Scott was. Max would have said something similar. Lavinia was thinking that Scott was not a boy any more. He was a man now and a big man at that. Scott was definitely Max's son. Lavinia invited Derek and Sylvester to come and look at the photographs and make up their own minds about Sam and the Reeves family. They did so and agreed with her. Scott said, "It's funny that it was the memorial plaque to Doctor Seth Forsythe that fell down and smashed in the church this morning, revealing the stature or picture of Jesus Christ. I've heard the story that it was Doctor Forsythe who led the men who murdered Sam Rigby on the top of Mount Wattabang. It is an interesting connection. What do you think, Miss Longbottom?" "That's interesting you should say that, Scottie," replied Lavinia. "There is evidence that Doctor Forsythe was the leader of the murderers who killed Sam Rigby. Back in 1944 during World War II, an old man was dying here in Ringtail Springs. He made a deathbed confession to the local Roman Catholic priest and his relatives who were gathered around his bed as he lay dying. He said that he was one of the men who murdered Sam Rigby. He said that it was Doctor Forsythe who led the party up to Mount Wattabang and it was Doctor Forsythe who cut open Sam Rigby while he was still alive and gave out Sam's internal organs for the other men to eat." "Ugh!" exclaimed Chrissie. "How disgusting! Those men were cannibals! How awful!" "That's right, my dear," replied Lavinia. "The dying man's grand- niece was a shorthand typist who was working for the Shire Council at the time. She took down the old man's confession verbatim and typed it all up into a document. It's around somewhere. I'm pretty sure the family still has it. I've read a photocopy. It is interesting that it took the old man fifty-five years when he was on his deathbed to tell other people about it. He had been keeping it bottled up inside all those years. He never married. And he died ten minutes after he made his confession. Apparently he was the last survivor of the group who murdered Sam Rigby. Many of the others were killed in World War I. So perhaps it's fitting that it was the memorial plaque to Doctor Forsythe that fell down and smashed in the church." "Good will thrust evil aside and reveal itself when the time is right," said Derek. "Goodness me, Derek, you are a deep one," remarked Chrissie. Derek refilled Lavinia's glass with more port. Chrissie refused. Derek topped up the glasses belonging to Sylvester, Scott and himself. Scott stretched out luxuriously on the brown leather couch. Lavinia took a hearty sip from her glass. She looked at Scott. She admired his powerful muscular body. Her eyes grew wide and misty. "You know, Scottie," she said. "You remind me very much of your late grandfather Robbie Reeves. He was a big man like you with big muscles, black curly hair and bright blue eyes. Mind you, you are bigger and taller than your grandfather was. I was in love with your grandfather. I loved him dearly..." Chrissie gasped. "Oh, Lavinia dear, don't say that! Not in front of these young men. I didn't know about that either." Lavinia turned to fix Chrissie with her gaze. "Yes, Chrissie, I did love Robbie Reeves and I don't care if Scottie and his friends do know about it." She turned back to face Scott. She said: "Robbie Reeves, your grandfather, came here to Ringtail Springs just after the War, I mean World War II. He set up as a plumber, which was a good thing because there was no plumber here then. He had fought in the War and I suppose he was looking for somewhere quiet to settle down. He was a lovely man and a very handsome man too. It was a joy to watch him stripped to the waist working away digging holes and fixing pipes. He was such a big strong man. I remember when the lavatories (toilets) in the library blocked, he had come and dug up the sewage pipes. I remember gazing at him and admiring his big bulging muscles and thinking what a fine, strong and handsome man he was. I had been appointed to the position of Librarian at the Ringtail Springs Shire Library in 1946 just after World War II. It was my first job and I stayed there for more than fifty years. My parents had a farm near Ringtail Springs and I took the position to be near them. They later retired, sold the farm and moved to Sydney. My brother wasn't interested in taking on the farm." She laughed. "And neither of course was I." She continued. "I loved Robbie Reeves from afar. I could never pluck up the courage to tell him how much I loved him. I don't think he ever knew. Many of the other girls around town were in love with him too but I was besotted with him. He used to go up to the hospital often. Your grandmother, Mavis McKechnie she was then, was a nurse up there. Robbie was often digging up blocked drains and clearing them up at the hospital. I used to think the nurses were deliberately flushing things down the lavatories to block the drains purely to get him to come up there. I asked your grandmother about it many years later and she told me that they had this poor demented old man up there at the hospital who used to flush anything he could get his hands on down the lavatories. Of course the drains got blocked. There was an awful kerfuffle when he flushed some poor lady's false teeth down the lavatory. Back in those days false teeth were terribly expensive. So of course Robbie was called up to the hospital to dig up the drains and look for the false teeth. Fortunately he found them again. Unfortunately he found them with the teeth embedded in a big fat, er, bowel motion. The hospital staff had to sterilise them for a week before the lady would wear them again." "How did Granny get to know him?" asked Scott. "She was, well, more assertive than me. She made sure that he noticed her. She was quite forward and she liked him a lot. They went out quite a few times together." "How come they got married?" "The oldest trick in the book," replied Lavinia. "Your grandmother got pregnant to your grandfather, so of course they had to get married. It was all very hurried. Your Uncle Matthew was born six months after their wedding. They said he was premature. However, he weighed eight pounds, six ounces (3.8 kilograms) when he was born, a fine bouncing baby boy. Of course he wasn't premature." Scott laughed. "So Granny was three months pregnant when she and Grandpa got married. Well, well! Fancy that! I never would have guessed. She is so pure these days." "Well, don't you go teasing her about it, young man," admonished Chrissie. "It is still rather a sore point with her, even after all these years," said Lavinia. Scott grew thoughtful. He remembered something Uncle Henry had said to him just before the family left for Queensland. "I wonder," he said, "if that was the reason why Grandpa was thrashing Uncle Matthew all the time, that Granny was three months pregnant with Uncle Matthew when they got married." "How do you know that?" demanded Chrissie. "Uncle Henry told me," replied Scott. "Hmm. Henry Houston seems to say a lot of things," sniffed Chrissie. "It is true that Matthew did seem to have the devil in him," said Lavinia. "He used to get up to all sorts of mischief. His father used to have to give Matthew frequent hidings. It's no wonder Henry Houston didn't like Matthew. Matthew used to give Henry a terrible time at school, teasing him and bullying him. Anyway, that's all bye the bye now. Matthew died a soldier's death in Vietnam. You know, Scottie, Mavis certainly had no bed of roses when she married Robbie. Robbie has a quick temper and he used to fly into terrible rages. As far as I know, he never hit his wife but they would have dreadful arguments. He would storm out of the house, slam the door and go down to the pub and get drunk. He nearly always was down at the hotel drinking and would get home quite drunk quite often. I must say I wasn't all that surprised to see Robbie thrashing Matthew so often. I think it's entirely plausible that Robbie was taking out his anger on his son. I certainly got the impression that it was not a happy household. Anyway, Matthew's death was a dreadful blow to them. Your father was only sixteen at the time. He had to leave school then and become a plumber's apprentice to his father. He was such an intelligent boy too. And then, Robbie himself died of a massive heart attack only two years later. I think the grief of losing his elder son must have killed him. It was a terrible blow to both Mavis and your father. Max had only just turned nineteen, I seem to remember. Poor Mavis was beside herself with grief after Robbie died and so was poor young Max." "Did Granny ever know that you were in love with her husband?" asked Scott. "Oh yes, she did," replied Lavinia. "I told her that after Robbie died. When they got married, I was terribly jealous at first. It was all I could do to be civil to Mavis. But Mavis often used to come round with Max in his pram to the library to borrow books while Matthew was at kindergarten. We started chatting and despite myself, we became quite friendly. We used to sit down and have a cup of tea together and she would tell me all her troubles. Max was a good baby. He would often lie quietly in his pram and go to sleep while we talked. I remember I started feeling quite grateful that I didn't marry Robbie Reeves after all and have to put up with all the troubles that Mavis had to put up with. It certainly was no romantic idyll for her, what with young children and dirty nappies and getting up all through the night and endless washing and cooking and cleaning. Robbie was turning out to be rather a difficult man to live with. I considered myself lucky by comparison. I realised that marriage isn't all that it's cracked up to be. I couldn't have Robbie because Mavis was already married to him and their marriage was not exactly rosy. Any other man would have been second best for me. So I decided that I didn't need to get married. I stayed single. Then Mavis had her miscarriage. It happened not long after your father was born. Max was still little then. It was an awful miscarriage. The poor dear just couldn't stop bleeding. She would have bled to death so the doctor had to operate and take her womb out. Poor Mavis! She was terribly upset and disappointed. She wanted a large family and now she couldn't have one. She just had the two little boys, your father and his elder brother. When Robbie had his heart attack and died, it took me a little while to pluck up courage to go and see Mavis. I was very sad too because I still loved Robbie. When I did go and see her, she was so grateful. I told her that I was in love with Robbie too. She threw her arms around me and hugged me and we had a good cry together. I think it was the biggest cry she had had since her husband died. I was crying too. She was glad that I loved Robbie too because I understood her loss. After that we became the best of friends." "Wow, that's some story you told us," said Scott. "An awful lot has happened and a lot I didn't know about. Thank you for telling me." Lavinia smiled. "It's been a pleasure, Scottie, a great pleasure. It's so nice that you could listen to an old lady like me." Later in the afternoon after the two old ladies had gone home, Scott, Derek and Pan were lying on outdoor lounges on the back lawn. They were drinking beer. Pan: << Scott, I must apologise for misleading you earlier today. I said that there were only twelve extra-terrestrial beings with super powers. That is not strictly true. The twelve I mentioned are beings who have had super powers for many millions of years. They are very old. There are several hundred more who have more recently gained super powers. Quite a lot have had the help and guidance of humans. There are human beings who have attained godhood and who are several thousand years old. They are bodhisattvas. They have chosen to remain here on Earth to help others gain super powers and attain godhood. They have uplifted extra-terrestrial beings to godhood as well. However, it was not until Hal Wray and Elizabeth Kursky discovered the use of sex magic that the numbers of superhumans began to increase rapidly. >> Scott: << No worries, Pan. >> Pan: << Scott, you are a lovely man. You are a splendid example of humankind. And you're a baby bodhisattva with big bulging biceps. >> Scott laughed. << Thank you. So much has happened to me in the past few days. It's been absolutely fantastic. Thanks to you two, today I've had the best Christmas ever. >> -------------------------------------- End of Chapter 6. Continued in Part 61. --------------------------------------