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Copyright: Edward James - Story posted at TheWhack.com
That particular day I’d been sitting in my room all afternoon feeling dull and I couldn’t decide what to do. I wanted to do something and I was aware that while I was making up my mind I was using up time, so I was in a kind of circle of boredom. I could hear Bren banging posts into the ground outside and he had set up a rhythm which was knocking away the minutes as I sat there staring at the wall thinking about nothing. Eventually I told myself I might as well go and talk to him as there was nothing else to do. Mam was up in the top fields checking the walls for damage before autumn set in, like she’d done every year. It was hot and I was dressed in tee shirt, shorts and trainers.

I found Bren behind the hay barn where he was staking out the enclosure. He was wearing old jeans and boots and his shirt was hung up so the sun could dry the sweat from it. He had his back to me and I remember being fascinated by his muscles as he worked. He was a dark man, tanned from working in the sun, his hair was black and short. He paused to wipe his brow and smoke a cigarette that hung form the corner of his mouth. When he saw me he offered me a smoke, I took it. It was safe doing that ‘cos mam was a long way off and wouldn’t find out. Bren wouldn’t tell. We talked about the heat and he said he was planning to swim in the stream that runs from the top fields down to the sea. Just before it reached the cliff there was a small pool and I’d often been swimming in there too so I said I would go with him.
It was really hot as we walked away from the farm and I was looking forward to having something to do. He was telling me a story as we walked. He’d started it when I was really young and every season he came back to the farm he would do another chapter. The thing is, it was his own story, well our own story, not one he’d remembered but one he made up just for me. Ghosts were the main thing in the story ‘cos I was really fascinated by them, I still am, and he would weave me into the story. It had been going on for years and every time we met up he would tell me a bit more. My name in the story was Careworn and he was telling me a bit about a battle I was fighting. I got really excited and was running circles around him trying to hurry him along so I could find out what happened to me next. Careworn the ghost hunter, that was me and I was attacking their castle. Before the battle was finished though we reached the pool.

Seeing the clear water I forgot the story and jumped straight in, clothed, like I usually did. Once I was over the shock of the cold I turned to see what had happened to my mate. Bren was standing on the edge looking down at me, pulling his boots off. If the muscles on his back had been interesting then the muscles on his chest were fascinating. They were really easy to see, set out like a drawing in a schoolbook. I looked at my own chest and couldn’t see anything similar about me. I was white and there were no muscles outlined. Once he’d got his boots off and asked me what the water was like he started to undo his jeans so I looked away. I don’t know why, part of me wanted to watch to see what the rest of his body was like and part of me felt embarrassed. He called me and I turned back, guessing he was about to leap in. He was naked. I gawped at him but I don’t think he noticed. Then he jumped in and disappeared below the water.

I looked about me to see him through the clear pool when suddenly I was lifted out of the water and thrown through the air. Screaming with shock I crashed down into the pool. Before long we were both play fighting, splashing and making charges against each other like stags. Like ghost hunters. On one charge Bren caught me under the arms and lifted me clear out of the water. My groin was right in his face and I struggled to get free but his grip was too tight and he was too strong. As I tried to fight back I could feel his rough chin through my shorts. I was pressing against him but Bren was not doing anything about it. He held me like that, in the air, helpless. I could feel his nose against my belly button. His laughter was warm on my skin. I remember feeling uncomfortable because there were new ideas in my head and I enjoyed them. But I also knew that I would be damned for thinking that way, so I was really confused. He must have noticed what state I was in then as I heard him mumble something. And then he put me back into the water, only this time he lowered me slowly, like he had a purpose.

I slid down his wide chest and this kind of electrical charge ran through my body, I didn’t know what it was, I’d never felt anything like that before. I stopped struggling, my heart was pounding and my arms had gone weak. I was lowered further and I felt his stomach rub against my legs, we were both slippery and the feeling was exciting. Then my legs were back in the water but my feet didn’t touch the bottom of the pool ‘cos Bren was still holding me up, he seemed to be pulling me closer to him and my face was up against his chest. Then I slid my arms around him so I was hugging him and I think he hugged me back. I don’t know why I did that, I just liked the feeling of friendship he was giving me and it felt safe. The electricity was rushing around inside my body and I started to tremble. I held him harder. Maybe I was trying to hurt him. It made him gasp. Something was happening that I didn’t understand and it was going so quickly there wasn’t time to think about it. I thought I was going to wet myself but still I couldn’t let go. Everything was bright, the sun overhead, the sparkles on the water and even the air around me dazzled me. I cried out, my eyes opened with surprise and I remember him smiling at me.

Then I put my mouth over his and squeezed him harder. He grunted but I wouldn’t let him go. He bit my lip as he gave out a long, low sigh.

He carried on holding me for a while and then let me slip into the water. I knew what had just happened but I had never felt anything like that before. It felt good but at the same time I knew that something wrong had happened. Bren didn’t say anything for a while after that, he washed and got out of the pool with his back to me. I was excited and scared. I watched him get dressed before I got out and we walked back to the house in silence.

I didn’t know then that we had been seen together in the pool or what the consequences of our actions would be.

When we got to the barn he put his arm over my shoulder and told me that if I was ever in trouble I was to find him. He would look after me. That’s when he gave me the ring. He pushed it onto my finger and said I was his friend. I told him he was mine too and went back into the house. By the time I was back in my room the sound of his work had begun again. Everything was back to normal and it was like nothing had happened. Bren left the village a few days later and we never saw him again. He went to London to be a writer.

LATER

There was a dark corridor with small rooms off it and, at the end, one larger room with a bench running all the way around. At first I thought some of the small rooms were toilets because they were so tiny but when I looked in I could see they, too, had a bench in them. Changing cubicles perhaps? Other rooms had a flat table, like a bed and I began to wonder what went on. The smell of damp made me feel sick and I turned to walk back the length of the corridor and out. As I hurried past one door that was not quite shut a noise startled me and I made the mistake of looking in.

My first thought was ‘how am I going to write about this?’ Then I thought ‘get out now.’ Then I thought ‘I want to watch.’ The last thought scared me more than what I saw and I checked there was no one behind me before creeping up to look into the small room through the crack in the door.

There was a man, naked, lying on his back on the table. He was about forty, I’d say, he had dark hair over his chest and some grey hair over his ears. His head was back and he either had his eyes closed or he was looking at the ceiling, either way he was not looking at me. Between us was another man, bending over the table with his head about where the older man’s groin could have been. The hairy man had his hands on the other guy’s head and it was going up and down. The guy bending over was naked too and I could see his back clearly. He didn’t have any hair on him at all and I imagined for a minute that it could have been me. He too was slim and not too tall. He was supporting himself with one hand on the table and the other on the hairy guy’s chest where he seemed to be squeezing.

I was rooted to the spot. I’d never seen two men doing this before and I don’t think I realised exactly what was going on until the younger one stood up. I backed away a bit, thinking he would see me, but he didn’t and something compelled me to watch again. When the slim man stood back I could see that he was only slightly older than me but he was blonde. Although I was shaking and felt like I was going to throw up this little voice kept telling me to stay and watch and I couldn’t resist it. The hairy guy swung his legs over the edge of the table and it was then that I saw his dick. It was fat and grey. Then I felt really sick and I was shocked but at the same time intrigued, wanting to run but having to stay. As the young lad knelt the older man looked down at him and mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Then he turned, looked me straight in the eye and winked at me.

I shot from that dark, sordid place with my pulse racing. I was confused because I was excited but I hadn’t enjoyed what I saw. As I ran out into the seating area my feet slipped on the shiny floor and I felt a cold crack as I slipped over onto my back. I was winded for a moment and I must have hit my head as I don’t remember what happened straight away after that. The first man I had seen earlier must have been nearby because he helped me up. My towel had fallen off and I suddenly knew I too was naked. The man who helped me up asked if I was o.k. but before I could answer I burst into tears. He let me go and left quickly, leaving me to find my towel in the cold silence of the room. I dressed in record time and ran all the way up from the basement.

Jason caught me in reception and asked if I was ok. He looked genuinely concerned and I liked him for that. I said I had slipped over and wanted to go and lie down.
‘Can I bring you anything?’ he asked but I said no because I had had enough of queer people being around me. ‘Then can I have the locker key?’ he said and I gave it back to him before bolting up the stairs.

So here I am back in my room, recovering from the shock of it all and watching the night roll towards me across the sea. Thoughts of Bren, last year, the pool, the ghost story, Careworn and the men downstairs. Wondering what has brought me here, where am I? I must record all of this for them to know what happened and for me to understand what happened back then. And does this make it any clearer? No. It is not helping me. No one is helping me. Only the old man Sutherland who has put me in this place. For what? To bring back confusion and memories of my life on the farm so that I can miss Brendan, my only friend? So that I can witness filthy things in the basement? So that I can wish I was somewhere else? So that I can wish that Careworn was a real person and that Carvenspike would fly out of the night to save me? So that I could write my stories in London with Brendan? So that I could see how stupid I’ve been in running away from my imaginings when all the time I should be facing them?

I think I am going mad. It’s the cold. It’s the sights I’ve seen. It’s the memory and the story. Which are real?

This is real! I’ve pulled myself together now and stopped trembling. I’ve re-read everything and am pleased with my honesty. Yes I can see what I am doing, yes I can write about the past and accept it – it doesn’t help me understand myself any better as yet but one day it might. There are still pieces missing from my puzzle and keeping my diary so honestly will help me find them.

And here’s another piece in the puzzle:

I’ve just had a call from reception. I’m to put on my suit and tie and be downstairs in half an hour. Sutherland is coming to collect me.

Story found at TheWhack.com 

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