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Subject: Heatwave in the City Chapter 8 This is a work of fiction. Everybody in it is entirely my own creation. Don’t even think of suing me for putting you in a story, because I haven’t. If you happen to be resident in one of the places mentioned, or to belong to any of the institutions mentioned, don’t even think about telling me I haven’t portrayed them accurately. Work of fiction. The name of the institution only occurs because it is common knowledge so I couldn’t get away with pretending it was otherwise. If I’ve borrowed your Church, school, police station, laundrette – I haven’t. I’ve merely used the name on the building because people walk past and see it every day. Work of fiction. None of the people in the story exist, so none of the things that happen in the story can have happened to them. The world, however, is the one exception to this – the world which has in it so many wonderful people that writing fiction of this sort becomes an obligation – for me; not for everybody. You’ll have found your own place in the scheme of things, and can be wonderful in your own way. This is a story of love. It isn’t a story of sex, though that might get mentioned. There is no pornography here. Some of it is cross-generational, but it isn’t about perverted love either. Some is what nowadays is termed “gay”, but the same applies. If you think you might be offended by that, the time to go and read something else is now. Still reading? Then enjoy, and remember, you don’t pay to read these stories, but it does cost Nifty money to bring them to you. Please consider donating to Nifty fty/donate.html Heatwave in the City by Jonah Chapter 8 The church minibus rumbled over the gravel of the parking lot, and ground to a halt. It was a warm Sunday afternoon in July and five excited boys had talked incessantly all the way from Ashfield. These were boys for whom everything was exciting. The bit of the drive through historic Charlemont had impressed them. So had the proximity to the Deerfield River, with its promises of rafting or canoeing and the trees in their deepest green garb. Who would have thought that boys who lived in Ashfield could still be impressed by trees? The metropolitan London boys – perhaps, but Ashfield boys? Seven people spilled out onto the parking lot and signed themselves in. The minibus ride to the mountain top was no less noisy. The instructor was firm however. Pleas that the boys had done this before cut no ice. Our party included two other people, a man with a ten-year old boy – both English. Our instructor simply told Jake’s boys that, if they knew it all, they could explain it to the newcomers. Peter told him that he had better do it, since he was English and spoke the same language as the pair. “Nay lad,” said the man. “Tha doesn’t speak any better Yorkshire than t’ instructor does.” Everybody except Peter fell about laughing. Peter turned the brightest red I’ve ever seen an Indian boy turn, but the instructor was allowed to complete his explanations in peace. Explanations over we were hitched to the first wire and were soon flying through the overhead canopy of the forest. I remembered a snatch of poetry that I had heard at school; The elephant is a dainty bird; It flits from bough to bough: It makes its nest in a rhubarb tree, And whistles like a cow: Well we must have looked just as ungainly as we came crashing through the overgrowth. After a few wires we were a good fifty feet above the forest floor, and racing at speed from trabzon escort one tree-platform to the next. The instructors were deftly clipping and unclipping us from the wires, and we were inspecting each fresh tree with interest. In a mountainside forest like that, we’d have expected lots of conifers, but the bulk were deciduous trees of one kind or another. These were a good mix of sugar maple, birch, beech, red oak, American basswood, and ash. Other trees including conifers (pine and hemlock) were there in lesser numbers. The two strangers were Bob Oakroyd, and his son Paul, who came from Battersby, in Yorkshire, and were on holiday, touring the States. Bob was middle aged and looked like a Yorkshireman, right down to the flat cap. Paul was a gangling fair haired youth, whose blue eyes sparkled unrealistically. If I really believed there was such a thing as “gaydar”, mine would have gone off there and then. They were currently staying in Northampton, and would be there for a day or two. Bob was a widower, and was keen to find ways to occupy Paul during the holidays. His work as a grammar school teacher took up a lot of time. Jake suggested that he might like to visit next day, as we would be glad of their company. I’m not sure that applied to Peter, but he’d get over it. We were airborne for a good while, but it seemed to fly by. Soon we were back at the minibus and saying our goodbyes to Bob and Paul. It was not quite teatime so Jake, at Liam’s request, drove us straight to the boys’ favourite pool. Clearly the fact that nobody had packed any swimming gear was not a consideration. It was good to see that the pool held no bad memories for Liam. There were five naked boys in the pool in no time. Jake and I simply watched the proceedings. “Trying not to get wet today, young man?” I turned in some alarm to find an elderly couple standing behind us and watching the display. “Hi Abe,” said Jake. “No Ella, I’ve got to drive the bus, and I’m not planning on getting the seats wet. I notice the boys are used to you these days.” “They were used to us a long time before you were,” said the man. Liam waved from the pool. “Hi Mr. Cunningham! Hi Mrs. Cunnningham,” he shouted. “Hi Liam” the man shouted back, then to Jake he said, “well we’d better be on our way before he decides to climb out of the pool to say hi.” Jake laughed. “Nice to see you, Abe – Ella,” he said, as the two walked away. To me he remarked, “I’m sure they do that on purpose because they know it embarasses me. Doesn’t embarass the boys a bit, as you saw.” Soon the boys, climbed out, and Jake had them running around on the rocks to get dry, as we had no towels with us. Then it was back into the minibus and home for tea. Tea was soon disposed of and Jake suggested card games. I told him I’d some work to do, so I borrowed his office. I’d not been in there ten minutes when Peter pushed the door open. “Hiya Pete. Not playing cards?” I said. “Can we talk for a minute?” he replied. “Of course we can, ” I said. “Come on in. What is it.” “Is that Paul kid coming here tomorrow?” “Well he’s been invited. I know his dad embarassed you, but it’s best if you try to get along with them. He only meant that as a joke you know.” “No it’s not that,” he said. “It’s just that this afternoon Paul kept trying to touch me up. I don’t mind that. He’s not bad looking and he isn’t the first, but if he keeps doing it he’s going to pick the wrong person one day. If he’d touched Luke he’d tunalı escort have broken his arm for him.” I had to acknowledge the truth of that. “But you’re not gay either. ” I said. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Does it matter?” “Certainly not to me,” I said. “I’m gay, but that’s not why I love the three of you. Thanks for telling me Pete. I’ll try to keep an eye on things.” Peter went back to his cards, followed a short time later by yours truly. It wasn’t my fault. I’d tried to get on with the work, but after my chat with Peter, I just couldn’t concentrate. I wasn’t going to be able to concentrate on cards either. The card school folded when Jake went to make a cup of tea. I followed him into the kitchen. “We’re going to have to watch young Paul tomorrow,” I told him. “Why’s that?” he asked. “He’s probably gay, which isn’t a problem, but it might be if he tries to meddle with other boys. He was trying it with Peter today.” Jake grinned. “I had a phone call from Yori a few moments back,” he commented. “His boys have asked permission to come over tomorrow afternoon.” “Riku?” I queried. “Riku,” he confirmed. “Whew!” I said. “It’s going to be somebody’s lucky day.” “”I’d put money on it,” he replied. “I’d also guess Pete’s not happy about it.” “No he’s not,” I said, “but I think he’s more concerned that Paul will get hurt if he keeps hitting on the wrong people.” “I think you should quietly whisper in Paul’s ear that Pete’s got a black belt and has put people in hospital.” I had half a mind to do that but, if Riku was on the premises, it probably wouldn’t be necessary. Jake wasn’t paying any attention to me, seemingly distracted by something behind me. Suddenly he was back in the room. “Come with me,” he said quietly. We both walked silently through the mudroom and into the yard. I caught a glimpse of somebody disappearing into the stable. Jake and I tiptoed to the stable door but kept to the shadows. Inside Simon was talking quietly to the horse in the middle stall. Clearly Simon had found a friend to talk to about those things he didn’t want to share with humans. I felt like an eavesdropper, and stepped back further into the shadows. Unfortunately that wasn’t the right thing to do. I kicked over a bucket with a shovel standing in it. Both clattered noisily to theground. “Hi Simon. Come to help us excercise the horses?” said Jake, walking into the stable. I took the hint and walked in behind him. “I brought Jonah to help,” Jake continued. “I wouldn’t have bothered him if I’d known you were here.” “I was just talking to Dusty,” said Simon. “That’s a good idea, he likes that,” Jake replied. “Why don’t I put a saddle on him? Then you can take him down to the bottom of the field to talk to him. Give him a good canter back up, when you’re ready.” It didn’t take him long to saddle up the horse, then Simon departed on horseback. “We really should excercise them,” said Jake to me, when we were alone. “I can take Eric, but we should really get Liam to take Finlay. You want to go and ask him?” I didn’t get the impression that the last bit was really meant as a question. I went to find Liam. Liam was already occupied. He was apparently refereeing a pushing match between Peter and Luke. I heard raised voices as I walked into the TV room and was just in time to see Luke push Peter back against the sofa. “You take that back,” shouted Peter, recovering and springing at Luke. That failed because he only succeeded tunceli escort in springing into Liam’s arms. Luke made a rush at the pair only to be caught by me. “Now what’s this all about?” I demanded angrily. Suddenly there was silence. “Well?” I looked around. Not one boy showed any inclination to answer my question. “Kori?” Without a word, Kori got up and left the room. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised at that. “Sit!” I said to Luke pushing him onto the sofa. “You too Liam. Peter – you sit over there”. I sat on the sofa beside Liam. “Liam,” I said. “My guess is that you are being silent out of loyalty to Peter, and probably to Luke as well. Is that right?” That was greeted with the loudest silence I have ever heard. It spoke volumes. “You two,” I continued. “I’m really disappointed that you put Liam in a position like that. It isn’t how you were brought up.” Suddenly both boys began to speak at once. I held up my hand. “Peter,” I said when silence returned. “Is this anything to do with what we spoke about earlier?” A slight nod was the only answer. “Let Luke speak then,” I replied. “It was my fault,” said Luke. “I’ll be the judge of that,” I replied. “What did you do that was your fault?” “Well that Paul kid is as bent as a nine-bob note,” replied Luke, “and Peter was encouraging him all afternoon.” “Was not,” shouted Peter. “Peter,” I said sternly. “I’m not going to find out what actually happened. I only want yours and Luke’s opinions of it. You already told me yours, but you can’t tell me Luke’s. You’ll have to shut up and let him do it.” “I’m sorry,” said Luke. “I only meant it as a joke. I shouldn’t have teased Peter about it.” “Was that apology to me, or to Peter?” “I’m sorry Pete.” “Liam,” I said. “Go tell Kori he can come back, because the fun’s all over – then Jake wants you outside.” If there was any residual bad atmosphere in the room, there is no way it could have survived Liam’s smile, which quickly spread to Peter as his friend departed. “Go with him if you like Pete,” I suggested. He got up and went. I turned to Luke. “Luke,” I said, “do you really hate all gays? I need to know where I stand. Is it all of us, or just your brothers?” He looked genuinely surprised. “Don’t hate anyone,” he said.”There’s too much hating. Like I told you, I was only teasing Pete.” “And you didn’t know how upset he already was?” I asked, just for confirmation. “No way,” he replied. “I’d never have done it else.” Kori, at that moment, approaching the sofa from behind, ruffled Luke’s mop of red hair. “There you go Luke,” he said, coming round the sofa. “You’ve just been assaulted by a gay.” “Nah,” Luke replied, “that wasn’t assault, just a diabolical liberty. This is assault.” Before he finished speaking he had launched himself at Kori, using his right forearm to push the boy into the armchair. With his left hand he had grabbed Kori’s privates. “OOOOh!” squealed Kori. “That’s the best assault I’ve had all day.” I smiled as the two fell about laughing. You just had to love these boys. TO BE CONTINUED If you’ve enjoyed this story, you’ll probably enjoy other stories in this series by the same author. This is the latest in a series that includes “A letter from America”, “Stranger on a train,” “Marooned”, “the Boston Tea Party”, “Immigrant,” and “A Cantabrian Operetta”, all the foregoing are on Nifty’s Adult/Youth site. “The Pen Pals” is on Young Friends. You might also like “A Neglected Boy”, by Jacob Lion, also on Adult/Youth. You can find links to all these stories, as well as some illustrations on Jacob Lion’s website bly/jonah-stories.html My thanks go to Jacob for providing this facility as well as for his kind and generous support without which I would never have written any of them.

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