Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Entangled Tales - 11 - Toddy & Daniel
Barney was a golden boy - golden tan skin, golden blond hair. Even his hazel-green eyes flashed gold in some lights. Most of his friends didn't see it, all they saw was Barney Todd, now in his mid-teens but formerly a short plump boy, just one of the many kids around town. But one friend did - Kevin Jenkins saw the gold because he looked, really looked. And he loved what he saw.
The metamorphosis from boy to man was not complete, but it was well advanced. Growth spurts kept stretching out the limbs - arms, legs, and the impossibly long and slender neck. Childhood games of fantasy and imagination had given way to more organised and strenuous sports activities which helped to sculpt his growing muscles.
His handsome, sunny face was marred only by a strong 'roman' nose which looked out of place - looked as though it should have been someone else's.
His shoulders were broad and the torso made a perfect 'V' to his slender waist. Pecs were well defined though not 'cut', and his abs showed a developing six-pack through the soft, smooth skin. The belly button, an 'outie', formed the base point of a triangle with his 20cent sized, dark brown nipples, the centres of which were usually erect, sticking out about 6mm, just enough to be grabbed by a tongue and teeth.
His broad chest was still completely hairless, but the triangle pointed down to a treasure trail of the lightest blond fuzz that ran down from the navel and disappeared under the waist band of his tight, faded, black sports shorts.
His taut butt looked sculpted from marble. The globe of each cheek bubbled from below the waist, made a perfect arc, and ended in a tight cleft where it met the back of his leg. His arms and legs were muscled, but not overly so, and they were filmed with a sheen of white blond hairs. Blue veins and tendons showed through the golden skin. The tops of his bare feet were lined with veins, and tendons reached out to his long toes.
The whole picture was topped off with an unruly mop of blond curls, like the famous statue of David. Actually he looked a lot like the statue, but better proportioned, (apart from the nose), and in glorious, warm, living colour not cold hard marble. He was not, unfortunately, naked like David, but Kevin knew what lay hidden beneath the thin material of the shorts. He'd seen it all many times over the years - changing clothes and swimming naked. It was displayed less now as childish openness was overcome by teenage modesty as pubes flared and gonads grew. Even last year's group jack-off sessions were just fading, but treasured memories.
He was simply a beautiful, golden boy, but hopelessly straight. He'd had a girlfriend already. Jinks didn't; he secretly longed for a boyfriend - specifically he wanted Barney Todd, but that was never going to happen. So he had to carry on being his friend, as always - since forever it seemed.
Neither of them could remember a time before they were friends. It had started long before schooldays had begun. Their mothers had been friends since their own schooldays. But now Kevin's mother had been dead for several years, killed in a car crash, and Barney's mother was widowed - another bloody car crash.
Barney currently stood, hands on the front of his spread thighs, bending forwards with his head up - watching the play of the impromptu, after-school, touch rugby game - shirts versus skins. The other players swirled around down at the far end of the school sports field. He was breathing deeply and a film of perspiration made him glow in the sunshine. Kevin approached him from behind, the best way to look and not be seen, as he admired the buns-of-steel displayed before him.
"Hi. Jinks," said Barney without looking around.
"Hey, Toddy. How didja know it was me?"
"I heard you coming a mile away. You always did sound like a wheezy old steam engine. Listen to that - can you hear it?"
"Hear what? That music do you mean?"
"Yeah. The guitar. Listen to it - it's really good, whoever it is."
The slow, soulful rendition of an old tune came from a nearby classroom.
"It's just a guitar."
"No, you're not really listening. It's like the guitar's talking. I can hear the words even - "Blue, Blue, my world is blue, blue is my world now I'm without you.""
"Oh, puh - lese, Toddy! You'll burst into song next. How do you know the words of that old thing anyway?"
"It's one of my Mum's favourites. I wonder who's playing it."
"Well there's one way to find out - come and look in the window. I'll bet it's not your mum anyway."
They ran over and, stretching up on tiptoes, nosed through the open window of the music room. Inside a stranger sat facing them, perched on the edge of a desk. He was bent over an electric guitar, long fingers plucking words from the strings. When he lifted his head the long hair framing his face fell back and they could see tears on his young face. He blushed bright red when he saw the two looking in at him, and dropped his head again.
Still playing, he swung his back to the windows, but stopped when Mrs.Lewis, the music teacher, came through the door opposite. The two outside instinctively dropped below the window, then walked back out to the sportsfield.
"Later, Jinks!" Barney called as he ran out to join the approaching touch players.
"Yeah, I'd like to touch you too," Jinks muttered. He waved a hand and walked away home, alone.
Later that day, shortly after dinner, Jinks was lying back on his bed, reading and listening to music. Heavy drapes were closed across the window and the only light in the room came from his bedside lamp - a small replica of the statue of David - the naked companion of his dreams.
The door crashed open and Barney, fully clothed unfortunately, flew across the room and landed face down on the big bed with a 'whumph'. "Hi Jinks, whatcha doing?"
"Not what you think anyway. Just doing homework, ever heard of it?"
"No, bugger that. The sun's still shining out there. Hey, that's that song, eh? 'Blue is my World', or is it 'My World is Blue'? Whatever. Where'd you find it?"
"In my Mum's records. Well a tape actually - Twenty Golden Hits of a long-long time ago."
"I saw him again after you left."
"Who did you see?"
"That kid with this song - with the guitar. He was leaving the school just ahead of me, so I followed him to see where he was going."
"You followed him? Are you perving on a boy Barney Todd? Got your eye on him have you?"
"No. Not like that, Dickwad! He was going my way anyway and I was just curious. He went into the Peter's place just over the road from home. Maybe he's staying with them or something. Anyhow, some of the guys are going up to the Square for a game of touch, do you want to come?"
"Do I want to double you up there on my bike you mean? Yeah, okay - bugger homework, let's go for it."
The next day, Saturday, was one of those beautiful sunny days that only happen on the all-too-often wet West Coast. Clear blue sky, warm sun shining with the promise of the coming summer.
Three bicycles carried four boys down to the beach. Barney sat on the handlebars of Kevin's bike like an over-sized hood ornament, or an old ship's figurehead having a trip ashore.
"C'mon Jinks, hurry up. They're leaving us behind. Ow! Mind the bloody potholes, Slave, you're bruising my bum."
Jinks closed his eyes at the images that that conjured up, and, of course, hit another pothole in the gravelled beach road. This was their normal way of travelling around the town. Toddy sat on the handlebars, giving orders, and Jinks pedalled behind - doing all the work and grumbling about how it was about bloody time Barney got his own bloody bike.
They dropped their bikes on the soft sand and walked out towards the surf. The long, gray beach stretched out before them - strewn with the skeletons of a thousand dead trees. To the left it ran about 1km., to the high rock wall of the tiphead which confined the mouth of the river. To the right it ran untold kilometers, fading out of sight in the haze in the distance at the foot of the bush-clad hills to the north.
Two cars and three 4WD'S were parked haphazardly around the end of the road, and about a dozen people were walking, standing or sitting around on the beach.
"Too bloody crowded here," said Max. "Let's go down to the Shingle Beach, by the river."
With unspoken agreement they returned to the bikes and headed back up to the fork in the road that lead down to the Shingle Beach on the river side of the tiphead. The Shingle Beach was actually a sandy river-beach between the tiphead wall and a second rock wall lining the edge of the river. This second wall was parallel to the tiphead but stopped about 1/2k. short of it. This meant that the river widened suddenly for the last 1/2k. Probably something to do with engineering the flow of the water out of the river mouth - something like that.
Whatever the reason for it, the boys didn't know and didn't care. All they knew was that it formed a small private beach inside the river-mouth. There was no surf of course, just the slaps of small waves hitting the beach. There was no-one else around here - well almost no-one.
They dropped the bikes again and walked down to the water's edge. Jinks sat down on the sand and, hunching over to shelter his lighter, lit four cigarettes, which he then passed around. Derek shrugged off his backpack, and passed out cans of beer.
As each of the lukewarm and thoroughly shaken cans was ripped open, the contents sprayed around four eagerly grasping mouths. "Man!" Barney wiped his face and licked beer from his fingers. "This stuff's warm. You need to get one of those chilly-bin things, Derek."
"Oh, sure. Like I'm going to bike down to the beach with a chilly bin strapped on my back. Bit obvious don't you think, Toddy?"
"No. Dickwad. They've got those bag things for keeping drinks cold. They're soft but lined with stuff that works like a chilly bin."
"Don't get too technical there, Toddy," Max grinned. "Still, this is the life, eh? Party on the beach."
"I think the song was 'Sex on the Beach", actually."
"That'd be bloody uncomfortable with the sand and all - ouch! Besides there's no women here."
"I dunno," said Derek. "Who's that over there on the river wall? Is that a girl or not?"
Barney looked over and said, "Hey. That's that kid again - the guitar man."
"What's with the hair then? Boys don't wear their hair that long."
"Well that one does, obviously. Maybe he's a throwback to the seventies or something. He's not from around here anyway."
"Well obviously yourself. Shame that it's not a woman though. Too bad."
"Like all you've got to do is crook your finger and they'd come running, eh?"
"Well, cum maybe."
Toddy punched Derek's shoulder, laughing. The others stood up, threw their empty cans out in the water, and started trying to sink them by bombing them with stones and handfuls of wet sand. Barney left them and wandered down the beach to go and check out the new kid.
He scrambled up on the big rocks and sat down on one next to the stranger.
"Hi. How's it going?' Looking closely at the pale face framed by the loose hair hanging down to the corners of the jaw on either side, he queried, "What're you looking so miserable about on such a great day?"
"Oh. Hi. I'm okay," said the stranger, fingers flicking the hair back behind his ears.
"Well you don't look okay to me. What's wrong, did somebody die?"
"No," with a sigh and a shrug. "Nobody's died, not yet anyway."
"Well, what's the matter then?"
"Nothing's the matter, okay? Everything's fine. What do you care anyway?"
"Hey. I'm a 'Mr. Nice Guy", sometimes anyway. Seriously though, what's wrong?"
"Persistent Bugger, aren't you? Well - if you must know, my Gran's been stuck away in an old people's home because she's lost her marbles. I've been packed off here to this one-horse town where I know nobody. I have to live with my grumpy old uncle and his family who are total strangers to me - I've only met them once in my life, and that was years ago, when they came up to my parent's funeral. My cousin's being a complete jerk - he's making it clear that he doesn't want me here. I've got no home, no family and no friends. My best friend won't talk to me on the phone or e-mail or anything. Yes, everything's just fine. They said I should try out for the school band, to meet some people. But, oh no. They don't want me either - the places have all been filled and they've got all the guitars they need. Maybe next year. Yeah - it's a lovely day, and my life sucks basically. Happy now? Mr. Nice Guy."
"Whoah! Where do we begin to answer that diatribe?" said Barney, grinning.
"Diatribe?" queried the kid, eyebrows rising.
" Yeah, diatribe. It means a long rambling moan about stuff. Not just a pretty face, me. I read a lot. You're living with the Peter's right? That's your grumpy old uncle - Tom Peters."
"Yes, that's him. How did you know that?"
"It's a small town, I've seen you around. I live just over the road actually. Your cousin, the jerk, that'll be John Peters. He's not so bad really - he's my little brother Grant's best friend. Maybe he's just going to have to get used to having you around. You're taking his place as the oldest kid in the house. Tom's not too bad - all talk really. At least he's taking you in. And your Aunty Nita's pretty cool, she's friends with my mum, I really like her."
"Yeah, I guess. I just don't know them but."
"Give it time. How long have you been here, two or three days? Shame about your grandmother though, maybe she'll get better?"
"No, she won't. She's got Alzheimer's. She'll be away with the fairies until she dies, which probably won't be that far away."
"Yeah, that sucks. I never knew my grandparents, they all shuffled off years ago. And your parents are dead too?"
"Yes, they're dead. They were killed in a drunken car crash six years ago."
"Right. My father was killed in a car crash too, about ten years ago. That makes me the man of the house now. There's just my mum and me, my brother Grant, he's thirteen, and my sister Allie who's eleven but she thinks she's about twenty-one. Kids can be jerks sometimes, I know I was. Still am sometimes. I'll bet you were too."
"No, I was always perfect."
"Yeah, sure you were. If the school band doesn't want you, well - tough. You're probably too good for them anyway. I heard you playing yesterday. I thought you were good - bloody amazing actually."
"That was you wasn't it? Looking in the school window at me."
"Yeah, me and Jinks. We heard you playing and we were just being nosy. You are good though."
"Well, maybe. I can't sing for nuts, so I make my guitar sing for me. I practice a lot - that's the great love of my life, making music, even if no-one wants to listen. I've been banished to the garage already. My Gran never minded it - though she was quite deaf really."
"You lived with your gran did you?"
"Yeah, for the last six years, since, well you know."
"Since your parents. Well you must have made a fresh start then, and now you'll just have to again."
"Right. But Gran was never a stranger to me though, I've always known her."
"So, give it time. Was it just you and your gran, or have you got brothers and sisters too?"
"Just us two. I've got a sister - Jan. She's 23 and she's away working in Europe, doing the big OE thing. As soon as I'm old enough, I'll be gone too. I'm 15 now so it won't be too long."
"But not yet, eh? You'll be stuck here in Westpoint for a few years, just like all of us. Come on down and meet the guys - they're not much, but they're okay. I'm Barney by the way, Barney Todd. My friends call me Toddy, but I wish they wouldn't - a toddy is a hot sugary whisky drink. I'm 15 too, we all are."
"I'm Daniel - Daniel O'Brien."
"So where was it you came from, Daniel?"
"Warkworth. You probably don't know it - it's a small town up north, north of Auckland."
"I've heard of it. That's where the TV stuff is - for international broadcasts. Telecasts?"
"That's right. Close to there, anyway. You really are well read, aren't you?"
"Yep. But not school stuff though. So how come you're not at school? I haven't seen you there."
"I start on Monday. Year 11."
"Me too! We're all year 11's. I'll show you around, tell you who's okay and who to stay away from - like the Carvers."
"The Carvers?"
"Yeah, roughest family in town - bad news. I think we're going to be friends, you and I."
"Yeah, maybe. These things take time."
"Yeah. 40 or 50 years, like the cheese ads on the tele, eh?"
"You've got it."
As they walked back along the beach, Barney said, "It's not a one-horse town you know. There's heaps of horses, you passed paddocks full of them on the way out here. How many horses are there in Warkworth anyway?"
"I dunno, maybe one."
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