Westpoint Tales

by Kiwi

J. H. Williamson & Billy T. Carver - 2

On the other side of town, on the North Beach, there was another new arrival in Westpoint that day. Accompanied by his two doting grandfathers, Billy Carver came home to a town that he hardly remembered and barely recognized.

There had been a lot of changes in Westpoint, apart from the main street which had hardly changed at all. Billy didn't remember much of even what hadn't changed. It had been a long time since he had lived there. Well, 8 years, but that's a long time when you're only 14 years old. A very long time.

He remembered his grandfathers though; they'd never been strangers to him. There had always been regular visits and contact throughout his life, and he adored them both. His grandfathers, Justin and Billy, were still as close and loving a couple as they had been all those years ago when they were no older than Billy was now.

Billy loved his granddads and they loved him too; how could they not? He was their only surviving grandson after all. Justin wasn't really his grandfather, only Billy was really - biologically; but he made no difference between them. There was no difference. Billy loved both of his granddads and he knew that they loved him, even though he was crippled and gay.

The latter wouldn't be an issue, they were gay themselves. Everybody knew that. One day he would tell them that he was gay too, but he suspected that they already knew - they just hadn't talked about it yet.

Billy had had a lot of drama and a lot of trauma in his life. Far too much for any young boy to have lived through. His parents had already separated and were on their way through a bitter divorce when he lost his father, Jeremy, in a horrific car smash. The same crash had mangled his legs and left him stuck in a wheelchair, crippled for life at 7 years old.

Despite the best medical care that money could buy, Billy was still a paraplegic with no motion, no feelings at all in either of his useless legs. Over the years since the accident, his legs had been practically rebuilt and they now looked as good as new, there wasn't even any scar tissue left, but they still didn't work.

It was generally agreed that his problem must be psychosomatic, in his mind, and he'd had years of psychiatric counseling, but his legs still didn't work.

Even Billy agreed that the problem must go back to the car smash and his having to watch his beloved father, and his younger brother, die on the side of the road. But no-one had been able to untangle the knots in his head and his legs didn't work.

Some time after that, he had lost his other grandparents, his mother's parents, when they both died from some disease that they had contracted overseas. He missed them, but if he had to lose some grandparents, he was glad it was them and not Justin and Billy. He'd never been that close to his other grandparents anyway.

And now, just a few short months ago, he'd lost his mother and his sister when they were killed in a bloody plane-crash. They were on a sight-seeing flight, without him as he hadn't wanted to go. Flying up an alpine valley, the plane had hit aerial wires and smashed into the hillside, killing everyone on board instantly.

That was the only consolation that he could draw from the accident - it was quick. They must never known what hit them, or rather, what they'd hit.

Now his granddads had brought him home to Westpoint, to live with them. They were the only close family that he had left, but he had a lot of relatives around here. If anything happened to Justin and Billy, he'd die, he just knew that he would. But they were still, relatively, young - they looked young - and they were in the best of health.

Justin's ancient grandmother still lived with them in their North Beach penthouse apartment. Kathleen Reynolds, nee Adams, widowed years ago, was now 93 years old, but you'd never know it. She was still as fit and as fiery as ever. Billy was more than a little frightened of her, but that was silly. She was just an old, old lady and she was his great-great-grandmother, sort-of.

Some of his cousins, his boy cousins, were HOT, but none of them seemed to be gay though. Dammit. Not that anyone would be interested in a cripple in a wheelchair anyway; but he could look and dream. Everything else down there worked just fine, it was just the legs that were useless.

Money was one thing that Billy would never have to worry about. Even without the fortune that he stood to inherit from his grandfathers, (not that he wanted that and provided that they hadn't already given it away), he was already wealthy in his own right. Or, he would be when he was old enough to take control of the trust-funds. Both of his parents were well off, they were architects, and they were both well insured.

His parents had designed and built the New Aldelphi, the complex that the whole family lived in now, on the North Beach. So, he was wealthy, but he would rather have had his family.

Despite his advantages and disadvantages, despite all the blows that life had dealt him, it was generally agreed that Billy Carver was a 'sweet kid'; he was one of life's genuine nice guys. He was handsome - he'd inherited the Carvers' fiery red hair, milky white skin and sky-blue eyes, and he was unbowed, uncomplaining, quietly charming and personable and just a 'damm nice kid.'

He was full of chatter, sometimes, and he often laughed or smiled, but just not completely, not with his eyes. There was an air of sadness about him, and no wonder. Both of his grandfathers agreed that the old song fitted Billy - 'To Know Him is to Love Him.' Now he had come home to live with them, in Westpoint.

They arrived and were welcomed by Kathleen, by his granddad Justin's twin, his great-uncle Jonathan and all of his aunts, uncles and cousins. There was quite a crowd! Eventually, Kathleen chased them all out, ("The boy's been traveling all day, he's tired and he needs his rest. Go home!'), and they all retired for the night.

Justin and Billy both went with him to his newly-prepared bedroom; Justin lifted him out of the chair and laid him on the bed.

"You don't have to do that, Granddad. I can get in and out of the chair. I can dress myself even."

"I know that, Darling Boy. I just wanted to sneak a bit of a cuddle really."

"Granddad, you can cuddle me any time you like."

"And me?" Billy asked, smiling.

"Yes, of course you too. I love you, Granddads."

"We love you too. Very much."

"Welcome to your new home, Billy. We hope that you'll be happy here."

"I'm sure I will. Thank you and goodnight, Granddads."

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