Kaimoana Tales

by Kiwi


Part 8

"WHAT?? No way! Uh-uh. Think of something else because I am NOT doing it."

"Oh, but you are. We all have to make sacrifices, Dylan, and it won't be forever, 3 or 4 months at the most."

"I'm not, Mum, and that's all there is to it. 4 Months! That's, like 120 and something nights with a snot-nosed kid in my room. Not happening."

"It is happening. You're sharing your room with your cousin, and that is all there is to it."

"Why me? Why can't he go and sleep in Jude's room?"

"You know why. Your Uncle Paul and Aunt Sarah are having Jude's room. Emmy is going in with the girls and William is sleeping with you."

"Eww! He is not."

"Shut up, Dylan. You know what I mean. He'll have his own bed but it'll be in your room. There's plenty of room for 2 in there."

"I don't want a bloody kid in my room, getting into all my stuff. If he touches my guitar, he's dead."

"Why would he even want to? William's a bright boy, but I don't think he's into music. Certainly not into your sort of music."

"Good job too!"

"Anyway, he's not a kid. He's a teenager, just like you are."

"Oh, come on. He's nothing like me. I'm 16 and he's just 13, there's a world of difference. He's just a kid. Why do they have to come here at all? There must be somewhere else they could go. They could rent a house, couldn't they?"

"No they couldn't. We've looked and there's nothing available; nothing reasonable anyway, just holiday homes rented out to the tourists and they're far too much. They cost more than motels."

"They could stay in a motel then."

"For 3 or 4 months? Get real; they're not made of money."

"Why don't they go to the motor-camp? Cabins there are pretty cheap, aren't they?"

"They're cheap because they're basic. I'm not having my brother and his family living in the motor-camp for months on end. What would people think? Paul's the new principal of the school here."

"Of the Primary School."

"Okay, Principal of the Primary school. It's not their fault that their new house burnt down. They've already sold their place in Wellington and Paul has to come here to take up his new job.

Your father and I have discussed this and we've decided. Paul, Sarah, Emmy and William will live here with us while their new house is being built. It won't be that long. They're family and we have to stand by them in their hour of need. I'm sure that everyone will get along just fine. Your sisters are excited about it and looking forward to sharing with their cousin."

"Good for them. I'm not. I don't even know the kid, why do I have to share a room with him?"

"Because we said so. We give you a lot of leeway, but as long as you're living under our roof, we make the rules. Give him a chance, maybe you'll like him. It's a good opportunity for you to get to know your cousin."

"I don't want to know my cousin. What would I have in common with a 13 year old?"

"You've got grandparents in common and who knows what else? You'll soon find out, they'll be here before the weekend."

"Oh, joy!"

"Suck it up, Dylan. That's life. Now, instead of standing around here, grizzling and moaning, you could make yourself useful. Jude's room needs to be stripped bare. Everything in there has to be packed-up and stored in the back of the garage."

"Where's Jude going to sleep when he comes home, in the garage?"

"No, he could sleep on the couch in the living-room. He's not planning on coming home until the end of the year in any case. He's got a part-time job and he's going on a ski-trip in May, with his flatmates."

"Ski-ing? It's all right for some people."

"Your turn will come. A couple more years and you'll be away at 'varsity too."

"If I go."

"Oh, you'll be going. Don't go planning on anything else. Now, we've got work to do. Dylan? Dylan James, where do you think you're going?

"I'm going out. Out for a walk. I'll see you later, Mum."

"Oh no you won't! You can't leave me with all of this, I need your help. I can't do it all on my own."

"Well, all right," he grumbled. "What do you want me to do?"

"I'll make a start on clearing out your brother's room. You could start with yours - tidy it up and make room for another bed to go in there. He'll probably have some other bits and pieces of furniture too, so make plenty of space. Anything you're not using can go out and be stored in the back of the garage, that should help.

Once you've done that, come and help me move all of Jude's gear to the garage as well."

Dylan went, scowling to his room. He was not happy. This all sounded like a lot of work and for what? So some little twerp could come in here and invade his space! He'd never shared a room with anyone and he didn't want to start now.

He was 16, dammit! He needed some privacy. He couldn't stretch out on his bed for a leisurely wank with the kid right there in his room, could he? He could not! And, not sitting in front of the computer either.

Dammit again. That was something else; he'd better clean his computer out too. He didn't want anyone finding out about the stuff he had in there. A bloody kid in his room was likely to get into everything!

This boy might be his cousin, but he didn't even know him. He couldn't remember ever meeting him, but he hated him already. Well, if he was going to have to share a room with him, there were going to be some hard and fast rules. He was the oldest and it was his room, he would make the rules.

As he worked, Dylan was fuming and resenting every inch of his space that he had to give up. He hoped the cops caught whoever it was that burnt his relative's house down; he'd like to have a talk to them too. He wouldn't, of course, but he'd like to tell them how what they'd done had ruined his life.

He was different, Dylan. He had dark hair, worn long but close to his head. A floppy fringe hung in his brown eyes and, from the back, it looked like a big comma on his shoulders. His hair was naturally dark-brown, but he put a rinse through it so it was more purple than brown.

He was tall, very tall. Just a shade under 2 meters actually, or 6 feet 5 inches. (Funny how people's heights and birth-weights are still expressed in the old imperial measurements and not metric. Tradition? Or, maybe it's just more natural.)

What did he weigh? Not a lot. He was as skinny as a rake. His legs were like pea-sticks, but he did have big, long and muscular arms and a broad chest. His biceps were as big around as his thighs were; probably from weight-lifting.

He was only 16 years old, he was going to be a big man when he filled out. He was already much taller than his parents and his brother, Jude, and he was 19. When not at school Dylan wore bright, radical clothes; he liked to be noticed.

The great love of his life was music. He played a guitar, not very well but he was getting better with practice. His singing was worse that his namesake's. The guitar was also useful for keeping the world at a distance. His parents, his brother and sisters, Grace and Emma, all couldn't stand his head-banging music and they stayed well away. He usually played in his room with the speakers off and his headphones on, his mother insisted on that.

He had 6 studs in each ear and would dearly love to get a lip-ring or two, but wasn't allowed. His father drew the line at that and said there'd be no more piercings while Dylan still lived under his roof. And no tattoos either!

The family had only lived there for 3 years. They came from Tauranga to Kaimoana, (Sheesh!), because his father had a rural contracting business, operating diggers, trucks and a big hole-drilling machine.

Dylan was no longer a newbie in the town, he had friends and he'd made his place. Would having his snot-nosed cousin living in his room affect that? No, probably not as long as he had nothing to do with him outside of the house. He was having nothing to do with him in the house either - he didn't want to know him.

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