As They Say
by D K Daniels
Entry Seven: A Farmer For A Friend
14th May 1991
Right, so this morning when I woke up I tried hiding the underwear, well until I figure out exactly what to do with them. They are most definitely his, they are not mine. I wonder how they ended up in my bag. It wasn't as if we were rushing or something to get dressed and had to pack up in a hurry- no, his underwear was buried quite deep down in my bag, under my towel. I think the only way it would have happened or could have possibly gotten in there is if he put it in himself. But what does that mean, does he want me to do something with them. Because I don't think I can go to him about this topic as a discussion.
I guess if he says nothing about the missing undies then I can just keep hiding them as long as my mam doesn't go rummaging around the room. I hate when she does that, it's like a breach of my privacy. I have some stuff hidden for all my naughty times and she has never found it and I hope she never does in the future- so I think It'll be safe in the very back of my wardrobe. I put them in with all of my collection of torn out newspaper clippings and memorabilia I have ripped out of things to use when I jerk off. Is that what I'm calling it these days memorabilia, something almost seems wrong about this. Even though I like having them around I can only imagine the scaring embarrassment if any of what I do with it airs out in the open. It almost feels shameful to have his underwear in there with it all but if mam can't find it it's the best place for it. It's in behind all my Gaelic stuff I used to have before I quit hurling a couple of years ago so it's in with all the gear for that.
Come to think of it I can't quite comprehend why I stopped playing sports- was it because of my growing fascination with the boys around me more so than the sport- maybe so. It's saddening to think that I can't play some of my favourite sports because boys are becoming a distraction. It should be girls, not Ross next door or the lads from the football team. How would I handle the act of juggling of wanting to look; Opposed to not looking and the fear of getting caught. I think for now I should just stay well away from anything sports related until I figure out what the hell is wrong with me. I don't think a doctor can help me, I wouldn't even know where to start. I have heard of gay people out in the world, but not so much in Ireland. It feels weird because everyone around here is to traditional or either all farmers.
Carl's dad is a farmer, it's not uncommon to see his dad all about the town doing different bits and pieces for everyone. But I guess Carl's dad is an exception because he's pretty sound actually. Anyway, I went down for breakfast and mam and dad weren't anywhere to be seen. They left a note on the fridge. Mam had to run into town and dad was helping a neighbour put up fencing. Other than that I had the house to myself. I didn't really think much about the opportunity. I just got dressed after my breakfast and decided to head out for Ross.
I have to say I was a little disappointed. When I knocked for Ross this morning nobody was home. I knocked a couple of times actually but I felt a little saddened when nobody came to the door. But he did come and see me later in the day and I'll get to that in a minute- first I want to talk about what I did without Ross. As you can imagine I felt a little weird not being around for Carl in a while, and since the new kid moved in next door I haven't spent a whole lot of time with my best friend.
I thought that the best thing I could do was to go hang out for a little bit. I decided to get on my bike and cycle over to his house. Just as I was coming to the gravel entrance for his driveway I got the biggest fright of my life. A tractor almost ran me over coming out the driveway. I in return did a harsh skid to the side of the road and ended up in the ditch that separated their driveway from the main road. I thought my life had come to an end, but I was reminded that I was indeed still alive because of the thud I sustained when hitting a rock at the bottom of the ditch. At least all I escaped with was with a bruise on my forearm. I wasn't dead or had a broken arm.
I think that would have much worse to imagine, can you imagine the conversation my mam would have with Carl's dad. Yeah, it was Carl's dad driving the tractor. He was trying to get finished ahead of time and he didn't really think about people passing by the gate because he is after all the only farm out this far and he nearly killed me. I think- anyway he got out the tractor and he shouted at me, "God I thought I was going to crush you flat lad."
I looked up to him the on the embankment and smiled up at him. A moment later I heard a familiar voice coming from somewhere up the driveway- "What's wrong dad," the voice called out. I automatically knew it was Carl and with that, he stopped right beside the ditch and peered down to me like an angel in the sky. He glanced back at his dad and then leapt down and helped me to my feet. He looked like he was dressed in his work clothes- which is a series of consisting of a trashed hoodie, beat up runners and tracksuit bottoms. When he is helping his dad he always wore the same clothes and I felt a little awkward for having come at an odd time. So, I got straight down to business and I asked, "do you wanna hang out for a bit," to which he nodded. But not before his father popped into the conversation, "yeve' to help me with the bails first son," Carl's dad said.
To which, Carl looked at his dad, "I know dad. Come on and let's get it done so we can head off."
Carl's dad crouched down and let out his hand to me. Gripping onto the hand on offer, he pulled me up out of the ditch. "Sorry about nearly runnin' you over lad," he said in a horse way. In doing so he pulled Carl up the same way and I said that it was okay.
Carl and I decided to head back down behind his father's tractor where another smaller tractor was with a large shipment of hay bales attached to a trailer. Carl stopped outside of the cab of the tractor and climbed back up into it. Glancing down at me he asked if I wanted to come along, and since I had nothing else to do I decided to go along with them.
"You're not as bad as your dad at driving, are you?" I teased.
To which Carl jokingly added, "only when a Sunday driver is out prowling about."
I laughed and then shut the door and stood in the cab beside him. Resting my weight down on the ledge beside the door, Carl turned the key and the tractor roared and chortled to life. Glancing out the window, his dad's tractor pulled out of the driveway a little slower than he first attempted to leave and carl eased forward with the tractor towards the gate. Not long after we were out on the road driving about 20 kilometres, trailing behind his father to one of the fields the family owns. For the most part, I enjoyed riding in the cab with Carl. I haven't actually done it in a while, and it seemed weird at first watching my childhood friend drive a tractor, but it wasn't uncommon where I live and secondly Carl has been driving awhile. He told me a couple times that his dad asks him to help with some stuff on the farm. Though he only lets him drive the tractor when he's around. He won't let him out of his sight with a large machine like this, which I guess is common sense after all. After a little bit we came to a field, which had a lot of sheep in it and Carl's dad got out and opened the gate for the field ahead of us. Just like that he got back in the cab and preceded into the field. We trailed behind, cautious watching what he was doing. The edge of the field was a slush dreadfully sludgy. His father even lost traction going through the mud. Huge impressions of the tires was left imbedded in the grassy and muddy terrain. Next it was our turn, as Carl snailed into the field he tried to keep to the left of the mushy grass. At least he'd have some traction there. Whereas his dad just went straight across the mud and into the field. It could be felt, the slippery surface underneath the tractor.
The tractor tires would spin every so often before taking traction, until we came to a complete stop and Carl stopped pushing his foot down on the accelerator pedal so that we wouldn't get stuck. His dad had the back window of his tractor open and was shouting out it at us. Carl asked me to open the door beside me and doing so I just that opened it to hear what he wanted to say to us. Vaguely we could hear his dad shouting, "use the diff," to which I had no idea what that was or what he was asking for us to do.
Turning to Carl I asked, "what's a diff?"
To which he just said, "the differential lock," with a grin of a smile. In doing so, Carl pressed a grey looking switch alongside four others and suddenly the tractor started to curve to the left automatically and before we knew what was what we were turning back on ourselves slightly and Carl rung out the wheel so that the axel was parallel and we were on with our journey.
Afterwards, we drove back across the same problem but we didn't have as much hassle that time and when he got back to his house, we just decided to stay in his house for the afternoon. His mam made lunch for us, which was really kind of her and we set around talking about what we could do over the next couple of days. To be honest, I take back what I said, I do like being with Carl, he's my best friend after all but I would just like to include everyone in the same outing. I know everyone was not present earlier but just having a one on one conversation with him really made my day. We talked about how we could head over to the Murphy's farm after dark one of the nights and chase the cows about for the crack. As appealing as that does sound I think I can fantom much more idyllic things to do with my time. So, we settled on having a possible sleepover, out under the stars. All the lads, because it would be warm enough. Of course, our parents will not let us go too far, so it will have to be near one of our houses. And since Carl's house smells like horse and pig shit most of the year I thought that my yard would be an ideal place to plop a couple of tents down and sleep outside under the stars.
The only thing I'm worried about is how I'm going to include Ross in this equation. I sorta forget to mention it to Ross, maybe another time before it actually happens right- Agh…
Oh, and yeah after I got home my mam told me that Ross had knocked, so I quickly scoffed down my dinner and then headed over to Ross's house. When I reached the front door, I was about to knock when he called me. I turned around to him and everything was all smiles and happiness. It was comforting to know that he had missed me somewhat today because I sure did miss him.
When I asked him where he went off to he said, "my grandma wanted me to help with a couple of things in the village. I didn't think you'd wake up till later but you must have- so I'm sorry."
'Ah, how sweet I thought, he said sorry for abandoning me- okay that sounded a lot more horrible than it sounded in my head. Seriously I'm not angry or anything- it was genuine.
But yeah by the time we actually sat down it was almost 7 pm, so we just played a little bit of football in his garden and then we called it an evening. He didn't mention anything about what I have in my possession and I don't think I'll bother to mention it either. Maybe he forgot he put them there. And speaking of other things I didn't invite him to the sleepover yet either. I'm trying to keep everything hush-hush for the time being. Does that make me a bad person- I hope not. I just want to wait till I have everything sorted out. I want everyone to be included in what I'm doing believe me when I write this. It's just Carl is a hard person to talk around when he's not in the mood. I should have mentioned something of the sort about inviting Ross along. So that everyone knows he is coming to the sleepover. It would be wrong not to include him, after all he hasn't got any friends or friend other than me. Though I think the boys will be okay with him turning up, Carl too I just know. But if they start treating him like shit on the second meeting them I'm going to hate them forever.
Anyway, I better get ready for bed. I have a couple of things to do and dad still hasn't put up the shelves in the garage. Maybe I can just ask him, so he can get them done out of the way. Because knowing my dad he will come and find me at an awkward time- wanting to do them and I will be too busy to do them, yet I'll still fold and do them because he is after all my old man. Well…. night I guess - Adam.
The End Of Entry 7
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