Summer
by Robert Symes
Chapter 3
This story is set in rural England in 1982. The cultural references are from that time and place so I hope that references to cars, TV shows or music won't spoil the story for those who don't know them. Follow the links provided for more information or just ignore them. (And yes, I know you can use a search engine just as well as I can. The links are for convenience, not to insult anyone.)
In some chapters controversial opinions will be expressed. Some are opinions I profoundly disagree with but I've tried to state them fairly, not parody them. It is this author's policy to have no opinions about anything, or at least not to state them. Any opinions you see on these pages are those of the characters or the site owner respectively and I neither endorse nor oppose them.
The End of an Error
I drifted off to sleep enjoying my memories but woke up in the here and now. Saturday was just as unpleasant as the rest of the week, plus I was feeling depressed as normally I'd spend at least a good part of it with Alex. Plus I hoped he wasn't sat around resenting my absence. I kept multiplying £4.80 by 9.5 (the half hour lunch break wasn't paid) in my head to motivate myself. Some people don't get £45.60 for a week , as Alex had reminded me.
After a subjective thousand hours six o'clock finally came around. Everyone was cheerful as it was Saturday night and no work tomorrow. "Out on the lash tonight then, lads?" one of our workmates asked us.
"I wish!" said 'Dave' enviously. He seemed to have a knack of fitting in anywhere. "Can't fuckin' drink yet can we? We're only sixteen remember. A mate's givin' us a lift into town so we'll get a meal, maybe see if we can blag a drink somewhere and see what's on at the pictures. Fuck all else to do, is there? There's not even a telly in that van."
We showered quickly (after ten hours in there you need to), dressed in our good clothes and waited for Alex to take us into town. We stopped en route at this country pub that did food. They even bent the rules and allowed us a pint of lager with our meals ("if anyone asks, that's shandy" warned the landlord).
The town we went to was the one where Alex went to school. He knew which parts to avoid but I was still nervous. "Relax, Rob," he said. "We're just four mates out to have fun and try to pull girls. Nothing unusual about that and no-one will know any different."
We went to the cinema to see what was on. Nothing I wanted to see, which was just as well as we'd missed the last showing which had started at seven and was now letting out. And I was running very short of cash as the mill hadn't paid us yet and what I'd borrowed from Dad had been too little.
We were idly watching the people coming out, and wondering what to do next when we saw two younger boys, maybe fourteen or fifteen, leaving the cinema unselfconsciously holding hands. "Sweet" said David at the sight.
"And sour" added Alex quietly. "Recognise those two?" He pointed to a group a little behind the boys, two skinheads who looked familiar somehow and two rough-looking girls. "Paul Butler and Mark Adams. Remember them? I don't like this."
He was right to be apprehensive. The boys suddenly remembered where they were and let go of each other but it was too late, they'd been spotted. The skinheads said something to each other, then to their girls and the girls went off in one direction while their boyfriends followed the younger boys.
"Come on then" said David. We just looked at him, unsure what he meant. "I remember the last time I met those two. It seems they didn't get the message. I'll have to speak a bit louder. I'm a super-hero, saving the innocent from evil queer bashers. Call me Clean Fucking Queer Man!"
We laughed at the memory but Alex was nervous. "You don't want to mess with those two" he cautioned.
"Oh I do" he replied. "I so do want to 'mess with them' and with those other boys it's six onto two, not that we'll need it. I've got a pretty good idea what they're planning and I'm not going to walk away and let it happen. Everyone else can please themselves, if you're worried about your job I won't judge you." He thoughtfully offered Alex an 'out' if he wanted it.
"They remind me of my dad" said Tony. "I need therapy for my 'Daddy issues' and this should be fun."
"No, I'm with you but be careful" said Alex. "After last time they'll hurt you badly if they can."
I remembered what they had wanted to do to harmless, gentle Alex a few weeks ago, and before that at school. Now they wanted to do it to someone else. "I'm in. Let's go."
So our little convoy proceeded down the street. The younger boys had eyes only for each other and were oblivious to the skinheads following, who in turn were oblivious to the avenging angels following them. The light was beginning to fade but we could still see well enough as we all went down a familiar alley to the little park where no doubt the boys hoped to be alone. "Perfect" muttered David.
"You two queer boys come here to get fucked?" asked one of the skinheads loudly, startling the two boys, who looked terrified at the large group following them. "Well, you will do, just not how you think. Welcome to your worst nightmare!"
"No, welcome to yours" said David calmly. "Remember me?"
They spun round. "You!" He took in the rest of us. "You three, and Morton as well. You better go now, this is none of your fucking business. You got lucky before but I'm ready for you now so fuck off before you get hurt."
"Well, I can't really do that." He sounded regretful. "Not when you're going to rape these young boys. It wouldn't be right, would it?"
"Rape them? Fuck off, I'll leave that to you lot! Who said anything about fucking raping them?"
"You did. You said they're going to get fucked but not how they think. That can only mean fucked by you and your fellow Neanderthal and you didn't ask their consent so that's rape isn't it? We all heard you."
"I didn't fucking mean it like that and you know it. I was just gonna give the little benders a fucking good shoeing. It serves them right. What they came here for is illegal, and it should be."
"And now some big benders won't let you. And you don't know what they came here for. And beating people up is illegal last I checked." Suddenly David burst into song, a parody of an old country music song from about ten years ago.
"They came here looking for somethingThey couldn't find anywhere elseWell, they don't want to hurt nobodyJust want a chance to be themselves
"You don't know them but you don't like themYou say you don't like how they feelHow many of you that sit and judge themEver walked the streets in constant fear?
"I think we'd better see what you've got to rape them with, so we can assess the risk."
There was a pause while we all took this in and worked out what it meant. The youngsters still looked like they were in shock. The skinheads saw the odds against them and started to look fearful. Alex looked like someone about to see years of bullying avenged. Tony looked like he expected to enjoy this 'therapy' and I remembered how I'd felt when something similar happened to me and thought how much these two deserved it.
David and Tony looked at each other and seemed to communicate without words. Perhaps they'd been practising martial arts moves because they suddenly moved like lightning and next I knew the skinheads were on their backs on the ground with their arms above their heads, pinned by their wrists and helpless.
David looked at the youngsters. "Do you want to do the honours and check out these big butch heroes? Let's see how tough they are with no pants on."
One of them shook his head. "No thanks. I don't know who you are but you won't always be around and I have to live here. It's not worth the risk."
"I don't!" said the other. "I'm leaving tomorrow and they'll never find me. Let me at 'em!" Instantly he was kneeling by the spokes-moron (Butler, I think) attacking his belt. I moved towards the other one. "Don't" said the boy. "Let him wait."
He opened Butler's jeans, pushed his shirt up above his navel and pulled his jeans to his ankles revealing scruffy red y-fronts, which rapidly joined his jeans around his ankles. I'd love to tell you we had a good laugh at his tiny prick, but I can't; it was about average. The swearing and threats he uttered while this was going on are too boring to repeat. The boy ignored them and calmly unlaced his boots then removed them, then his socks, jeans and underwear. Then he repeated the process with the other one and we gazed with great satisfaction at two very red faced would-be queer bashers lying helpless on the ground showing off their 'rape equipment' to us.
David beckoned the boy over and whispered something to him. He grinned and got to work tying the skinheads' jeans together in a big knot. Meanwhile David turned to Tony and said "What do we think of that then?"
"Not much" he replied. "I've seen better, to be honest. Every night, in fact."
"Me too" agreed David. "Might as well let them go I suppose." He addressed the skinheads. "We're going to let you go now. Just remember there's six of us and two of you so don't try anything or you'll come off second best. Mr Morton knows how to contact me and this lad" - he pointed to the one who '[has] to live here' - "will too so leave them alone and..."
"What are you then?" interrupted Butler sneeringly. "The bender police?" I almost had to admire him being defiant in his position.
"Someone has to be" he replied calmly. "The real ones are pretty useless. Anyway, we're going to let you go, and you're going to swap shirts while we watch. Don't argue, just do it or don't. If you do we'll walk away and leave you alone. If not we'll walk away with your clothes and you can go home as you are. I ought to make you suck each other off but I'm short of time so I'll leave it, this time. I'm not promising anything if there's ever a next time." He gestured to Tony and they both got up and joined the rest of us standing between the skinheads and their clothes.
They got to their feet facing us and Mark Adams pulled his shirt off. He saw Butler giving him a dirty look and snapped "What fucking choice have we got? Just do it and get this over." To my surprise, he did. I didn't fancy either of them but I thought making them strip themselves naked in front of us was a nice touch. They put each other's shirts on and we all walked away leaving them to work on separating their clothes.
"Come with us" said Alex quietly to the two boys as we walked back down the alley. "I'll give you a lift to wherever you'll be safe."
As we walked back to the car we saw the two girls waiting outside a Chinese takeaway looking fed up. Tony went over and spoke to them. "Fuck off you pervert!" shouted one as he walked away.
We all looked curiously at him as he rejoined us. "Oh," he explained, "I just said it's no wonder they look pissed off. I'd be pissed off too if my boyfriend looked like that naked. But I'm sure their boys will join them as soon as they get dressed. It should make for an interesting conversation when they get back together."
We walked on, laughing. When we got to the car Alex said "Rob, you get in the back with the others and these boys can share the front seat. I'm sure they won't mind being close to each other." One boy (Terry Sullivan it transpired) had an address in town. "I thought you looked familiar" said Alex. "Your brother John was in my year at school." The other was a holiday maker, going home tomorrow, and was due to meet his parents outside a local restaurant in... oh crap, five minutes. Alex started the car and headed off.
The boys lamented that they couldn't swap addresses as they'd meant to, until Alex said there was a notebook and pen in the glove box in front of them and they were welcome to use it. All smiles again, they promised to write to each other. We made it to the restaurant with one minute to spare and Stuart jumped out of the car just in time for his parents not to see him in it as they emerged. We drove Terry home and gave him David's number, just in case. And then we headed back to Bamford's Mill where we'd be the only residents until Monday morning.
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