Robert Revelations Chapter 14
Robert's Revelations
This story is set in rural England in 1982. It is, obviously, written in British English with British words and spellings. The cultural references are also 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.)
As always, this is fiction and any resemblance to real people is coincidental. In some chapters controversial opinions will be expressed. Please remember they are the characters' opinions, not the author's. Some are opinions I profoundly disagree with but I've tried to state them fairly, not parody them.
Comments and feedback are welcomed and can be sent to: robertsymes65@use.startmail.com
If you like reading these stories please remember the site can't exist if it's not funded and chip in here, I do. Thanks.
Chapter Fourteen - Road Trip
Saturday morning. I woke fairly early, despite, or perhaps because of, the previous night's excitement. I went downstairs thinking I'd do some reading for a while, or maybe look at the newspaper, but David and Tony were already in the kitchen eating toast and drinking coffee. “Breakfast?” asked David.
“Yeah, toast's good, and I could murder a good strong coffee, thanks.” I replied. “What are we doing today?”
“We thought, Road Trip” said Tony. He looked a lot better than last night, but his face was still visibly battered. The bus from the town we went to school in to David's village went on to another town we rarely visited. They proposed catching the Saturday service, looking around for an hour or two and then coming back. Apparently Tony's dad worked Saturday mornings and wouldn't risk missing it, or claiming to be sick and then be seen driving around so we'd be safe from him. It seemed as good a plan as any.
We got off the bus and wandered around for a while and then, because it was cheaper than going to a caff and it was another nice sunny day, warm but not really hot, we bought cans of Coke and a packet of Jaffa Cakes in a supermarket and looked for somewhere to sit and consume them.
We found this little park, really not much more than a walled garden, at the end of an alley between two shops. It was small and quiet and no-one else was using it. Probably not that many people even knew about it, we'd only found it by accident, wandering around exploring. We sat at a picnic table enjoying the quiet, the sunshine and our brunch. Suddenly the peace was shattered by running footsteps, with shouting not far behind.
A boy about our age ran into the park and looked around frantically for another exit, but there wasn't one. His delicate good looks took my breath away. I wish I knew him, but he was too busy panicking to even notice me.
Two skinheads ran into the park then slowed to a walk as they approached the boy. “We've got the bent bastard now!” said one. “He can't get out of here without going past us.”
A dangerous look crossed David's face but only briefly. He seemed affable as he stood up, faced the skinheads and said “Morning, lads. What's occurring then?”
The one that had learned to speak said “We've got us a dirty fucking queer bent bastard to bash! He was looking at me! Right at my bollocks! Dirty fucking poof! Now he's gonna get it! But it's nothing to do with you.”
“But I wasn't” moaned the boy, hopelessly.
David smiled his best 'this mouse is going to die slowly' smile. “A dirty fucking queer, eh? This will be fun.” He turned to face the boy, who looked even more despairing.
“He looks quite clean to me” remarked David. “Maybe he's a clean fucking queer. I'm a clean fucking queer too.” He looked at the skinheads and pointed to us. “That's Tony. He's a clean fucking queer as well. His dad's a bit like you, that's why his face looks like that. And that's Rob. He's a clean non-fucking not-quite-decided-yet. So it looks like the odds have changed. And you boys are fucked. But not literally. I like being clean so it's bad enough having to touch filth like you with my hands let alone anything else.” He said all of this in a calm tone with a smile on his face.
It took the skinhead a moment to process this and realise he was being insulted. Then he said “Fuck off! Do you think I'm scared of a bunch of fucking queers? What you gonna do? Bum me to death?”
“Not an attractive prospect in your case. No, you're probably not scared. You should be, especially after what a Neanderthal like you did to my friend, but you haven't got the brains for it have you? Do you know what fisting is?”
“Fuck off you posh twat! Do I know what? Is that some queer thing then?”
David stepped closer to him. “Fisting. Let me show you how I do it.” His hands moved like lightning and the skinhead was on his back on the floor, blood gushing from his nose. “There's plenty more where that came from if you want it.”
It turned out the other one could speak after all. “Jesus Christ, you've broke his fucking nose! What you do that for? He never did nothing to you!”
“He would if he could. Just for being who I am. And I bet that guy never did anything to him either did he? And I haven't broken anything. I know exactly what I'm doing. There's blood on his clothes and he'll have a beautiful 'shiner' [black eye] by tomorrow but no real damage.”
Tony addressed the standing skinhead. “That's how Dave does it. But there's another way. You want to give it a try? It'll make your bloody eyes water, I promise you, naff boy! If not, this is your golden opportunity to fuck off, and take your rubbish with you. While I'm still in a good mood.”
The lad weighed his chances of taking on four of us with an injured colleague. Then he helped his friend to his feet and said “Come on Paul, it's not worth it, some other time. Let's go somewhere and get you cleaned up.” He looked at the boy they'd chased into the park. “I'll see you again.”
“And I'll give him my phone number, just in case” said David. “It would be in your best interests not to give me a reason to come looking for you.” He sounded like he hoped they would give him a reason. Neither of them replied to this, they just walked slowly out of the park.
The boy spoke up. “Thank you so much! You saved my life! Well, maybe not but you certainly saved me getting beaten up by those animals. Thank you! Well, er, thanks again, I'd better get going I suppose.”
This beautiful, allegedly gay, vision that had just walked into my life was going to just turn around and walk out again? “NO!” I cried, surprising even myself with the pain in my voice. I didn't even know him, why would I care? It certainly surprised the others. They looked at me, astonished. “I mean, it's not safe. What if he walks straight back into those other two? They could be waiting somewhere couldn't they? Better if we wait a bit and all leave together.”
David gave me a long and pensive look. Then he smiled. “Well it's as good an excuse as any I suppose.” He turned to the boy. “Stick around for a bit, mate. Sit down. Fancy a Jaffa Cake?”
He sat and took one. “Thanks. That was amazing, the way you put Butler down, verbally and then physically. I wish I could do that. Where did you learn it?”
“Butler?” asked David.
“Yeah, the one you hit is Paul Butler. His mate is Mark Adams. I knew them at school, they were poison then. I'm Alex Morton by the way.”
“I'm David Porter. These two reprobates are Tony Jackson and Rob Symes. Well, Alex, did you see that film 'Porky's' that came out last year? No? Well watch it if you get the chance it's really funny. My cousin lent me his student ID and I saw it at the cinema. Well anyway this new Jewish kid beats up the school bully using ju-jitsu and says something like 'If you're Jewish you either learn how to fight or you take a lot of shit. I don't like to take shit.' That might not be spot on but it's close. I thought it was good advice for a gay boy too, so I took boxing and judo lessons. It gives you confidence as much as anything, knowing you can defend yourself. Worked on your school mate anyway.”
“They're no friends of mine! What was that about fisting? Is that a thing?”
“Yeah, it is” said Tony. “We read about it in one of the magazines Dave's cousin sends him.” He saw the surprised look on my face. “One of the raunchier type that we didn't give you. But I wouldn't do it though. It sounds painful, it's dangerous, and some of the side-effects are really disgusting.” He grinned. “It definitely would have made naff-boy's eyes water though.”
“If you go to school with them does that mean you live here?” I asked Alex.
“I went to school with them. Not any more, I'm glad to say. I left last year and now I work in a bank as a trainee. It doesn't pay much, and Mum takes half for board but it's so much better. And no, I don't live in town, I live in” - he named a village about halfway between the town and David's village on the same road.
“Great,” I said, “You must catch the number 49 then, same as us. We can all go back together.” There was something about Alex I didn't want to be parted from.
“No need” he said, crushing my hopes. “I've got my car. I'll give you all a lift back if you'd like.” Restoring said hopes and turbo-charging them!
“Yes please” I said, before anyone else could speak. If David and Tony want to go by bus that's up to them. In fact I'd prefer it.
David gave me an appraising look then glanced at Alex and back to me. He winked conspiratorially. “Sounds like Rob's decided it. But after you drop us off do you think you could take Rob on to [my village]? It'll save his mum having to come and fetch him.”
Ten minutes later we were heading out of town in Alex's G-reg [1969] Austin 1300 Countryman. “Not very stylish I know” said Alex “but it does the job and insurance is a killer when you're seventeen and just passed your test. Actually it's Mum's old car. She gave it to me when I passed my test. I think she just wanted an excuse to get something newer.”
“Hey, no complaints here, it's fine” I said. No complaints? I was in paradise, heading down a country road, the warm breeze from the open window ruffling my hair. David and Tony had jumped in the back to cuddle up. I was in the front at a forty five degree angle leaning half on the seat back half on the door so I could gaze on Alex while also watching the road. (“If that door opens you'll fall out of the car” warned Tony, but the door was fine too.) 'House of Fun' faded into 'I Won't Let You Down' on the car radio. Just perfect. Let's just keep driving forever.
But we soon arrived at David's house. He made us all sandwiches and coffee for lunch and then I packed up my stuff, thanked David for last night's hospitality and got back in Alex's car.
We stopped half way, at my suggestion, at a little car park that served a scenic circular walk through the woods. We enjoyed the walk together and as we got back to the car I knew it was now or never. And it wasn't going to be never, whatever the consequences. I asked the question I'd been building up courage for. “So, is it true then?”
“Is what true?”
“What that boy said. That you're a.... well, I'm not going to say it like he did but you know what I mean.”
“I think so. I haven't exactly had a lot of chances to find out.” He gave me a smouldering look. I hope it means what I think. I haven't had a lot of chances either. “How about you? David said you're a 'not-quite-decided-yet' didn't he? Is that true?”
I gazed into his eyes. “It was true when he said it. Not any more, I think. I know I don't want to watch you drive away.”
And then we didn't talk for a while. Alex's lips pressed hard against mine as his tongue tried to invade my mouth. And it felt good, really good. I leaned back against the side of the car and let the feeling wash over me. Let this moment last forever, just the two of us alone in this beautiful place, experiencing this beautiful feeling, engendered by this beautiful boy, eyes closed, birds singing, the sun on his back and on my hands as I hold him. How can anyone call this dirty? But people do. Thank God, or at least Dave and Tony, that we went on that 'Road Trip' this morning. If we hadn't.... I would never have met Alex, and he... he would have been.... No, I'm not even going to think that, it's unbearable. So I don't think it, just enjoy the moment for as long as it lasts.
When we finally pulled our faces away from each other Alex's was flushed. I imagine mine was too. I was short of breath, and very excited. I reached down and adjusted myself to get a bit more comfortable. Alex did the same and then the back of his hand pressed hard against the front of my jeans and rubbed me as he pulled it back up. “Is there anywhere private we can go?” he asked urgently.
“Damn, no. My parents will both be home Saturday afternoon. I can't take you there. How about your place?”
“That's no good. Same problem.”
“The car might be as good as it gets. It's a bit cramped I know, and not very private but needs must, what else can we do? There's no-one about so if we keep an eye out.... Hold on. Wait.” I remembered something.
Just as I was leaving his house David had slipped something into my jeans pocket and whispered “just in case.” I'd forgotten it until now. I pulled it out and unfolded the note. I read it once, then again savouring it. And then I smiled with utter delight and showed it to Alex.
“Rob, If you don't make it home (and I really hope you won't) the spare room's free tonight. Plenty of food, no parents, and we still have Nighthawks to watch. We'd love to have your (& Alex's??) company for another evening. Just get here before five. D&T.”
“It's nearly half past three” I pointed out. “That gives us about an hour. I know where there's a quiet lay-by no-one uses....”
We got back in the car and I directed Alex to a lay-by off a quiet B road nearby that I knew. I wanted to get Alex's dick out, to see it, play with it, practice my newly acquired skill of giving head. I knew how good it felt and I wanted to give him that. Perhaps I was insecure and wanted to give him a reason to stay with me. But the car was indeed cramped, and the public setting inhibited both of us, especially Alex, who said he was keeping his clothes on as he did not want a conviction for indecent exposure or gross indecency, which would end his career at the bank.
We knew we'd have privacy later, all night if we could square our respective parents, which shouldn't be difficult, no need to tell them the whole truth, so why take risks? We tipped the front seats forward and sat in the back, just talking and kissing until about four thirty. And then we got back in the front and drove back to David's house, nervous but excited, anticipating the adventure in our very near future.
Epilogue
Well that's the end of the story, just a few loose ends to clear up.
I did meet and talk with Reverend Peters as I promised to. I am absolutely convinced that he was a sincere and caring man who genuinely wanted the best for me. But you would not be reading this if he had convinced me, and he didn't. Too many unanswered questions.
What happened to 'Half-Price'? In the end, nothing. There was no proof it was him and anyway, as Tony pointed out, he had done them a favour by making it possible for them to be together. It was explained to Billy what the consequences of his actions could have been and that if he showed his photograph around at school that would be proof he was responsible and thus guilty of incitement. He was none too bright so he believed this and accepted a 'deal' that he kept quiet and nothing happened to him. That allowed us to finish school.
As for David and Tony, Alex and I, we're together to this day. Not as a foursome, obviously, but two couples who are still friends and stay in touch. I never believed in love at first sight, not sure I do now, but with Alex the attraction was strong and instant and soon grew into that. And we were all lucky to be the age we were. By the time we got to university in the city and had the opportunity to mess around we knew it was dangerous and refrained. If we'd hit the hedonistic scene of the late seventies and early eighties it might have been a different story, with a different ending.
But as I said we got lucky and the story ends with “and they all lived happily ever after.” Well, to the extent that anyone ever does, anyway.
To My Readers
Assuming that there are any, that is. Is anyone still reading after fourteen chapters or am I just talking to myself? Perhaps I'll never know. It's been fun to do this anyway.
If you are still reading, thank you. And I'd love to hear from you at robertsymes65@use.startmail.com. And thanks to those who rated my story on the new Nifty site.
This concludes Rob's story as I originally conceived it. I'm hoping there will be a Part Two and then Part Three in the fullness of time, but most of it isn't written yet. Watch this space.