Kaimoana Tales
by Kiwi
Ashton
Part 51
They buried him on Wednesday. It was a long time to wait, the whole town had been talking about nothing else since Sunday morning. No-one knew why he did it, but there were a hundred theories. The general consensus was that the boy was insane. What other reason could there be?
He was only 14 years old, not much more than a child. He had a good home and a good family - one of the leading families in the town. He had all the opportunities any kid could want to build a great life for himself, and he'd thrown it all away. He must've been mad!
William was ropeable. When he wasn't crying, he was practically spitting sparks. He hated those people so much! Dylan, concerned about him, spoke to Emmy and she agreed with him. She totally agreed and, together, they made William sit down and tell his parents everything he knew.
They were disgusted with what they heard of Damian's parents and his home situation, but they agreed with Dylan. It would do no-one any good for Wills to go sounding off. What was done was done and they hadn't broken any laws, apart from the laws of common decency.
Paul said, "Wills, that's a sad and shocking story, the poor kid, but that's still a stupid thing he did. There were other ways of dealing with it. Killing himself was no answer. It hasn't fixed anything, all it's done is to hurt everyone and especially himself."
Sarah looked at her boy, sitting on the sofa, wrapped in Dylan's arms and crying into his chest. "I hope you know, Wills, just how much we all love you - all of us and especially Dills. You've got a good friend there."
"I do know that!" William sobbed. "Dills is the greatest. Best friend anyone ever had, and I love you guys too. Thanks. I just wish I could've done something, anything, for Damian."
"You did, Wills," Dylan said. "You were his best friend and that's a lot."
"It wasn't enough!"
"It was what you had. You didn't know."
"I suppose. Thanks, Dills." William looked at his parents and sister. He stood up, took Dylan's hand and pulled him to his feet.
"Thanks, Mum, Dad, Emmy. Now you know. Dills, come with me, I've got something in my room."
They left the room with their hands still linked.
"Well!" Paul said. "Wills is right, Damian's parents were bastards, but what he did didn't fix anything."
"At least the poor boy's out of his misery now. It's a shame that Wills didn't bring him to us, but, as Dills says, he didn't know.'
"No-one did. Sarah, those two, Wills and Dills, they're very close. Do you think that they're having sex together?"
"Paul! They're two teenage boys, full of hormones and testosterone. They obviously love each other, they've been sharing a room for 4 months and they spend their days together as well. What do you think?"
"Well, yes. I think they are."
"Of course they bloody are!"
"And you have no problem with that?"
"Why should I? Do you have a problem?"
"No, I don't actually. They're going to do it somewhere and Wills is a very good-looking boy, he'd be a predator's dream. If they're together, that's good."
"Yes it is, so leave them alone. Dylan's a good boy. Wills has never been more settled and happy and he's safe with Dills."
Emmy smiled at her parents. "Wow. You guys are great. Does that mean I can get a boyfriend and bring him home and do it too?"
"No, it does not! Your situation is completely different and you know it."
"Dammit!"
"Behave yourself, Emmy."
They all went to the funeral and Dylan's parents came with them too. None of the adults knew Damian, they were there to support their boys.
The church was packed, but they managed to get seats near the back. A lot of people didn't and they stood behind the pews and outside the front doors. It was a huge turn-out for a weekday afternoon. Damian was a quiet, private, boy, but his family were very well known, they had a lot of connections and the crowd was there to support them.
Dylan sat next to William and shushed him when he snorted as the Woods family walked in and up to the front. Ashton and his father wore conservative black suits and ties with white shirts. Suzanne wore a simple black dress and shoes. Mrs. Woods was swathed in black; she even had a broad-brimmed hat with a heavy black veil.
"Who does she think she is? Queen, bloody, Victoria or something?"
"Hush, Wills. You can rant all you like after, but not here."
Ashton smiled and nodded at them as he passed. At least he appreciated that Damian's friend was there.
It was a full-blown Catholic ceremony with all the ritual and rigmarole, and it seemed to take forever. When, at last, it was over, the pallbearers went out with the coffin, followed by the family and preceded by the priest. The crowd shuffled out behind them, those from the front pews going first.
When William, and his family, went out the door, Mr. and Mrs. Woods were standing there speaking to the people and receiving their condolences, like it was a bloody debutantes' ball or something!
William snorted and Dylan kept him walking, straight past them and to the car.
They went to the burial at the hilltop cemetery. There were great views up there, but the residents didn't appreciate them. Afterwards, they didn't go to the customary afternoon-tea, which was at the council rooms. That'd just be asking for trouble. They took William home.
Ashton left his parents and joined the long line of people moving past. He took his turn to trickle a handful of dirt onto his brother's coffin. It looked so sad and pathetic down there at the bottom of the deep hole.
Just 14 years and it was all over. The box, and his young flesh, would rot away and Damian's bones would lie down there, forever. Too sad.
The line kept moving and he passed the grave. His parents were standing back there, looking sad and pathetic too. Bloody hypocrites! This was all their fault and were they sorry? They were bloody loving it, especially the sadly-bereaved mother. Cow.
He didn't go back to his place in the reception line. He'd had enough of this bullshit. He walked away, got in his car and left.
Back at the house, he got out of the monkey suit and into casual clothes. The suit was a rental. It'd be more than his life was worth if he got it dirty.
He went out of the house - it was not a home. They'd be partying there all night, he couldn't be bothered with that. He got back into the Beamer and left.
He knew that no-one would believe it, but he was lonely. He had absolutely nobody who he could really talk to. He was pissed at Damian for doing what he did, but he could kind-of understand it.
Did Damian's mate, William, understand it? He didn't know. He'd have to talk to him sometime, but not now. William was, obviously, still angry about it all. He'd be all right, he had his cousin, Dylan, looking after him. Ashton wished that he had a cousin, or anyone, like that. William didn't know how lucky he was.
He drove the short distance out of town, past Taylor's Beach and out to the north-end of the Peninsular. He was going to where he always went when he wanted to be alone. He didn't really want to be alone, but he was. The only other choice was for him to play the game and be the wonderful Ashton Woods, richest kid in town. Hah! If only they knew. He was more like the poorest kid really.
He left the Beamer in the carpark near the seal colony and locked it up. It wouldn't pay to have it stolen. They'd be burying him too! He started along the Peninsular Track, went around a couple of the small bays, and then veered off and climbed up a steep and narrow little gully up to the top of the cliffs.
It was not easy getting up there, but he'd done it many times before. This was his private place where no-one could see him cry. He hauled himself up on to the ridge near the top and stood looking down the cliffs to the surging sea breaking on the rocks below.
How many times had he stood up there, wishing that he had the guts to just drop off and be done with it? Way too many, but not enough. Even now, he couldn't do it and he'd never felt lower in his life. Well, not often anyway.
Damian was 2 years younger than him, he was just a kid, but he'd done it - he'd dropped off. And what a way to do it - right in their drunken faces! He hoped he'd hurt them, they deserved it. No, they'd only see it as it affected them. They always did.
He stood there, thinking about Damian. Stupid little shit! He could understand him wanting to lash-out at them, but what did he get out of it? Well, release, he supposed, but at what a cost. It had cost him everything. Nothing was worth that. Was it?
Dumb kid. He wished that he was a better brother for him, like Dylan was with his cousin, William, protecting and caring for him. They weren't brothers, they were cousins, but that's pretty close. He wished that he had a cousin like that, or a big brother. Now he had no brothers at all, it was too late.
The long, rubbery strands of the seaweed, swirling in the sea below, were calling to him. It was hypnotic, watching them. They were like mermaid's hair - giant mermaids. He could just jump and it'd be all over, forever.
"Thinking about your brother, Ashton?"
What? Where? Who?
He swung around and Peter de Groot was sitting there, looking down at him. He was squatting on top of a big rock on the top of the hill, looking like an elf - or, rather, like a little blond, wingless angel. He was back-lit by the late afternoon sun and his fair hair shone like a halo on his head.
What was he doing here? He'd often seen him, going past, collecting seaweed, on the rocks below, but never up here in his place on top of the cliffs.
"I. . yeah, I am. What are you doing up here, Peter? This is where I come to think."
"I know you do. I thought you might need someone to talk to today. Sorry. I shouldn't intrude; I'll go and leave you alone.
I'm really sorry about Damian though, poor kid."
"Yeah, he was. Thanks. Don't go, I do need someone to talk to."
"I'm here for you." Peter slid down off his rock and came down to Ashton on the narrow ledge. They sat, side by side, looking out to sea.
"How did you know I'd be here?"
"I didn't know, but I thought you might come here after burying your brother."
"Did you really?"
"Yeah, I know that this is where you come when you want to get away from everything, and you must be upset today - sad for your brother and angry with him too."
"I am! Bloody angry with him. But, how did you know that I come here?"
"You always do. I've seen you sitting up here for years now, always alone."
"You've never come up and spoken to me before."
"You've never buried your brother before."
"Too true. You're always alone too."
"I was. All my life I was alone, but not now. Since Riley moved to town, I've got a friend."
"Riley Sullivan. You're lucky, Kid. I wish that I had a friend."
"You've got hundreds of friends."
"Not really; not real friends. I've got hangers-on and fans, they're not friends, they don't even know me. It's all just a game we play."
"I thought so. I'd be your friend, Ashton, if you wanted me to."
"You think you know me, do you?"
"I know you're not happy."
"Of course I'm not bloody happy, my brother just killed himself."
"I know. I hope that you never get as miserable as he must have been."
"How do you know that he was miserable?"
"I just know. Sometimes he used to sit up here too, on his own and looking sad."
"He did? I didn't know that. So Damian used to sit here like I do?"
"Yeah, like you do.'
"And looking sad? Not just a pretty face are you?"
"I'm a nothing and a nobody, but I have got eyes."
"Lots of people have got eyes and they see nothing. You're not a nobody, Peter. I think you're a nice guy actually. Riley's a lucky kid too."
"Riley is a good guy. He doesn't need me the same now, he's got his new brothers."
"The cave-boys?"
"Jacob and Colin, the ex cave-boys."
"Fair point. So, do you think you'd have room for me in your life?"
"I'd always have room for you, Ashton."
"Even if I'm not really Ritchie-Rich?"
"Even if you were the poorest kid in town."
"I think I am actually."
To his horror, Ashton found that his eyes were leaking. This was so not cool. Cool kids don't cry in public. He turned his face away and tried to will himself to bloody stop it. Feeling sorry for himself had never helped before, why would it now?
Maybe it was the occasional sob escaping, something gave him away. Peter knew that he was crying.
He put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Let it out, Ashton. Don't try to bottle it up, cry it away."
"Damm, Peter." He shook him off. "I never cry."
"Maybe you should. Maybe you need to."
Ashton looked him in the eye and his face crumpled. "Maybe you're right."
He dropped his head and cried. Peter draped an arm around his shaking shoulders.
He turned, clung to Peter and cried over his shoulder. He finally calmed down, pulled away and wiped his eyes.
"Sorry," he shrugged. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Yes you should've. You needed to."
"Thanks, Peter. I guess you don't think I'm Mr. Cool now?"
"I never did. I think you're a great person, but I never believed the image. That's not you."
"You are so right! How come you see what no-one else does?"
"I just see. Maybe because I'm on the outside, looking in."
"I wish you weren't."
"You wish I wasn't looking?"
"No, I wish you weren't on the outside. Riley was right; he said that you're a great kid, and you are."
"I'm just me - Dorky de Groot."
"You're not at all and the next person who says that to me gets a punch in the face!"
"I'd better not say it again then."
"Shut up, Dork! I didn't mean you."
"Going to punch yourself now?"
"No, I'm not. I'm allowed to say that because you're my friend."
"Am I, Ashton?"
"You are. Well, if you want to be, you are."
"Oh, I do. I never thought it would happen, but I've always wanted that."
"Always?"
"Ever since I can remember."
"Damm, Peter! I wish I knew that years ago. You should've told me."
"I couldn't. You're Ashton Woods, I'm just Peter de Groot. I've got nothing to offer you."
"You know what? I've got nothing either, nothing but me."
"I don't need any more than that. Thank you, My Friend."
"My friend. I like the sound of that. I'll be proud to be your friend, Peter, and thank you."
"Thank you. The sun's gone down now and it'll get cold pretty quick. We should be getting back to town now."
"You're right, we should. I'm not going home though. They'll be partying there and I couldn't stand it. I'll park-up somewhere for a few hours."
"You could come and park-up at our house if you like. It's nothing flash, but we've got a big fire, it will be warm."
"Sounds good to me, thanks. Our house is as flash as and it's as cold as ice."
"Really? Don't you have heating?"
"Well, yeah. Downstairs they do. I mean it's cold because there's no love there."
"There's plenty of love in my house and more than enough for you too."
"You mean that, don't you? Thanks, Friend. Let's go then."
"I'll take the short-cut back through the farms and I'll meet you there."
"No. Come with me, please? My car's back in the car-park, I'll drive us from there if you like."
"In the BMW? Hell yes! I like. I've never been in a car like that."
"It's about time you did then. C'mon, Peter."
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