"Three Nuts For Orlando"
Part 1
by Beryll & Osiris Brackhaus
- Orlando -
"Orlando Bloom! Where are you? The fireplace in the lounge isn't clean, and the whole driveway is still full of snow! I'm not asking much of you, but you're too lazy to do even that! Do I have to do everything on my own?"
My stepmothers voice cut through the cool winter's morning
air like a shard of glass would cut through butter.
It was the first weekend of December, and as usually, she was expecting important
visitors. The local Senator and his wife would come over for a brief visit
like every year before Christmas, doing some charitable fundraising for some
poor kids far away.
What a farce, I thought as I threw another load of firewood
into the wheelcart next to me. Not that I minded helping some starving kids
in Africa, but what about the local poor kids?
What about me?
With a sigh, I dropped the last load of wood into the cart and started to push it to the mansion. It was late afternoon, freezing like hell, and I was wearing only my old, faded jeans and the old, many-patched red pullover my real mother had knitted herself. It wasn't as if I had many things I could choose what to wear of.
It had been quite different when father was still alive,
before his heart-attack. Then, I had been together with my family when greeting
the Senator or whoever came over for the holidays. I had lived a happy and
sheltered little life.
Until, two years ago, I got notified that he had died. Suddenly, without a
warning.
And even more of a sudden, I had found myself with nothing more than the cash
I carried with me in my possession.
With a shock greater than anything I had imagined to that point of my life,
I had to learn that my stepmother, right in the very night my father deceased,
had taken counsel with her lawyers, very effectively blocking me from claiming
anything of my heritage, securing every last penny for her and her beloved
daughter.
Growling disdainfully at the thought of my half-sister, I stopped the cart next to the kitchen door and began to unload it again, as I heard something shatter on the tiled kitchen floor.
So I dropped the wood again, rushing into the kitchen, only
to find our kitchen boy Sean hunched over a pile of shards on the floor, looking
close to tears. He was a very good-natured boy, but a bit clumsy at times,
and mother hated people who did not treat HER property with sufficient respect.
And, as if she had waited for her line to appear, Cate stepped through the
kitchen's other entrance, still wearing her riding outfit, complete with helmet
and crop, fuming at what she saw as personal offence. Right behind her, my
stepsister Liv followed, completely displaced in a rather expensive-looking
Italian gown. Apparently, she had been trying to figure out what to wear for
the tea with the Senator. He was supposed to bring his son with him. Wink,
wink, nudge, nudge.
"Who was that?", my mother hissed, and the way she held her crop indicated that she dearly would have liked to use it on whoever had dared to deliberately destroy her possessions.
"Please, Ma'am, don't be so hard on him. It's been the chipped bowl anyway", our cook Rose tried to intervene; but that didn't impress Cate one bit.
Seeing Sean cringe on the floor, I felt pity for him, and as so often before, stepped forward.
"It's been me, Mother", I said, "I'm sorry."
For a while, she just stared at me, fuming, apparently fighting with herself not to use the crop on me.
"Why do you always do that, Orlando?", she asked, her voice as cold as the water of the lake outside, as calm and treacherous as the ice that covered it. "I just wonder if you are just that stupid or if you try to spite me on every occasion."
Used to her outbursts as I was, I just silently waited for her to end, stoically holding her gaze.
"I just wished you had a little more of your father, Orlando. He would have been grateful of what I have done for you."
I bit my tongue to the blood to suppress any comment. He would never have been grateful for being robbed, thrown out of his own house to life above the stables, harassed at every opportunity yet unable to leave. Never in a million years he would have.
Abruptly, my mother turned around, asking Liv:
"Do you have any idea why he's doing this? How can he do this to me?"
Then, noticing my half-sister's slightly overdressed state, she added:
"Dear, you look... lovely..."
"No, I don't! It's too..."
"Official?", my Stepmother tried to help.
"Yes! Oh, you have to help me, mommy. *David* will be with the Senator, Mom, you know?"
'course she knew. That's been the reason for making such an enormous event out of so something that had never been a simple affair even in calm years. Gently pushing her daughter towards the door, she turned around again, addressing all staff in the kitchen. Which she counted me to be a part of, on good days.
"Make sure everything is prepared! I do not wish to see anything lacking at the table. And make sure the fireplaces are clean, Orlando. We're not living like the gypsies here. If you do not keep up your share of hat work at the estate, I do not see that I will be able to support you useless horse any longer. And I do not want to see you close to that mare anyway. Not within ten feet, you hear me?"
Ouch. That hurt.
And Nicholas wasn't useless, not at all. He just didn't let her ride him,
and that nettled Cate to no end.
"Yes, Ma'am", I said meekly, trying not to anger her more.
"Come on, Liv darling", she went on as she left the kitchen. "Let's hurry, I have to dress as well. What about the silk one?"
"Mom!", she shrilled in response. "That's blue! You can't honestly expect me to wear a *blue* gown in December?"
"No, darling, of course..."
Their voices trailed away into the great hall, and with a
certain kind of relieve, the kitchen staff returned to their business.
Rose came over to me, putting her hand on my shoulder, saying softly:
"Don't take it too much to you heart, Orli. It's not your real mother, anyway."
I turned around to look at her, and the genuine sympathy I saw in her eyes soothed my aching heart. A bit, at least.
"I still have the wood outdoors, I have to go", I said, but Rose held me back.
"You've been working in the stables all morning already. Why don't you take an hour off?"
Looking around insecurely, I noticed everyone looking at me, most of them smiling with genuine affection.
"Be off, boy", our chauffeur Viggo said, "we'll cover you."
"You haven't been out with Nicholas since days", Rose suggested.
That would be a wonderful idea, and as long as mother was occupied with my sister's immensely extensive wardrobe, I would stand a chance of getting away with it.
*
Only minutes later, I was stealing my way out of the stables,
leading Nicholas behind me with his bridle. My horse was still munching on
the apple Rose had given me for him, and as soon as were into the forest,
I knew no-one was able to see us from the mansion.
I hadn't had the time to saddle him, but both of us were used to ride without,
so I jumped on his back and gave him reins enough to let him run for quite
a while, unbound, unrestrained.
Nicholas had been my father's gift on my sixteenth birthday, an almost completely
white gelding, the most beautiful and kind creature I had ever met. During
the years, the calm and friendly horse grew into quite an impressive animal,
and also grew highly attached to his owner. We were best friends, Nicholas
and I, and he didn't accept anyone else on his back except me. With saddle
or without.
Smiling grimly, I mused that my friendship with Nicholas was one of the few
things my mother's lawyers couldn't take away from me.
Though it was the reason that I still stayed here, after all I had to endure.
For Cate only gave me as little support as she could get legally away with,
and even for that bit she made me work in the garden, the stables, wherever.
And that would never be enough to cover for the expenses that unavoidably
came with having a horse – and I couldn't leave him with Cate, who'd
just sell him, or rather send him directly to the slaughter. I would never
give her the satisfaction of leaving Nicholas to her, another memory of my
father she could obliterate.
So I stayed, and endured. It wouldn't last forever, anyway.
Unknown to the prying eyes of my Stepmother, I had started to work as a delivery-boy for one of the local pizza-services, and I was stacking the money away to be able to move out and care for Nicholas myself. If I worked real hard, and didn't get ill, I would have the money together in, say, roughly eight years.
I could have cried.
But a small hope is still better than no hope, my father had used to say,
and so I hoped, and worked, eighteen hours a day, seven days a week.
Suddenly I noted that Nicholas came to a trotting halt, and
I abandoned my brooding to see where he had carried me. Without great surprise,
I noted that we had arrived at the old forest warden's lodge, that now served
only as a shelter for some rarely used cars of my half-sister. And as my personal
hide-out.
The attic of the wooden building was still mainly intact, and here it was
that I hid the money I earned at Joey's, together with some personal belongings
of worth I had managed to salvage before they started to 'disappear' out of
my room above the stable.
And also, it was here that my only other real friend besides Nicholas was
waiting for me, at least during daylight hours.
"Hey Rosalie, how are you?", I asked as I climbed up the narrow ladder that led up to the lodges attic, smiling at the huge white owl sitting on one of the chests.
"Roo-hoo", she replied sleepily, blinking at me with graceful indignation.
"Oh Rosalie", I said, feeling a bit stupid at talking to an owl, but still better than confessing to a diary my stepmother might find one day, wasn't it? "What am I to do? I can't abandon Nicholas, and you. But Cate's really trying to make my life hell. She even started to get rid of everything that reminds her of father. Everything."
"Rooo..."
"I know, Rosalie, I know."
Moving my hand slowly towards the huge bird, I began to stroke its head, gently, as I had done so many times before. I know, wild birds never allow humans to get so close to them, let alone touch them, but she did. I know I got a lucky hand with all kinds of animals, and seeing her trust in me was very comforting. And the way she seemed to pay attention, yet didn't say one word did help me more than anyone of my stepmother's expensive therapists would have been able to.
"But I do not know if I can go one like this. Not much longer, anyway."
"Roo-hoooo..."
"You think it's gonna change?"
"Roooo..."
"Just a short while, and then all will be better? Oh Rosalie, I wish it would be. But there is no Prince in shining armor to come and rescue me, not even at a slim chance. I'd rather win in the lottery without having bought a ticket. But that would already help a lot."
"Roo-hoo-hoooo!", Rosalie exclaimed, and with a last disdainful look, left the attic through one of the numerous holes in the roof.
"A prince?", I yelled after her. "You're a hopeless romantic, Rosalie, you know that?"
----
- David -
"And this is my son David. He is back from school for Christmas." I somehow managed to force something resembling a polite smile onto my face. For the third time today I was surprised at how father made it sound as if he was happy that I was here and proud of me, when in fact he was still fuming inside. He really made a great politician, could lie most convincingly.
Home for Christmas, indeed. Only that I would not be going back to school as I had been thrown out. Had it only been a bit too much partying and too little studying they would have kept me. They don't like it but they tolerate as the parents pay lots of money to get rid of their kids. Life is serious after all and they try hard to make their wards understand that.. What a bullshit. Nobody believes that crap anyway. All of the boys there knew perfectly well, they would inherit more money one day than they could ever spend. But I was the only one who had to say it out loud. Disturbing the order of school. That was the official reason I was home now. I just been so fed up with the whole charade!
Now I wished somebody had warned me of Daddy's reaction. He was not amused at all. Should have known that a professional liar would not be proud of his son telling the truth to the world. Not that the whole argument about what rich kids should be forced to do had been really important to me anyway. I had just brought it up for the heck of it, but now dad was convinced I wanted to spend all of his money while he was still alive and never do anything productive ever.
So he had decided on a course of action. A rather fatal course of action. He was going to marry me. He had not yet decided to whom, but that was one of the reasons I was dragged along on this 'fund raising tour'. Looking for potential brides.
I am positive I told him about three years ago, that I am not into women. I don't remember his exact reply but it was something like 'that will pass, son, we all need to experiment'. Like being gay was an illness that would go away if one waited a bit.
Obviously he had now decided that it had passed and that being married would cure me of my... problems. He hadn't even really put a name to it. Our arguments over the past days had been outright weird. It was like we were in different rooms and I could hear what he said, but he couldn't hear my replies.
Still there seemed no way around getting married as he had made it really clear he would disinherit me if I didn't. I was already making plans on where to stash my wife while I went on enjoying my life. It's not like today you can't be married and still have a good time. Maybe be wife to be would even be wise enough to call for a divorce soon and go away with lots of Daddy's money. That would teach him.
Oh god, I used to be a happy romantic and now I was making plans for my divorce without even being married yet. I really was in deep shit.
The stupid giggling of a definitely female voice brought me back from my unpleasant future to my equally unpleasant present. I had missed the introduction of the daughter of the house but managed another polite smile, as she held out her hand. A handkiss. She wanted a handkiss. Was there no end to my suffering.
Thankfully this time Dominic came to my rescue, taking the hand of the girl and kissing it. She looked rather disappointed which did nothing to endear her to me but at least I was able to flee into the house now. The long, flowing gown she wore prevented her from fast pursuit.
A couple of minutes later we all sat in the spacious living room and father started working the Lady of the house for money for his charity organisation. He had explained to me at length why he was doing this. Why it was important to care for the people who were not as well of as yourself. I had handed two questions back to him. Why didn't said people go looking for a job and make a living on their own? And if they really needed the money so badly, why didn't Dad just pay the whole thing out of his own overflowing accounts? My private conclusion was, that he just did all this, because it was excepted of a senator to do so and that he didn't care more about starving children god knows where than I did.
At least I was safely seated between Dominic and Billy, out of reach of the hungry little minx that was the daughter of the house. She was doing a lot of smiling in my direction and I was frighteningly sure that she was the reason we were here. Another potential bride Dad wanted to check out.
I shot a pleading look at Mom but she was busy smiling herself. She had kept out of the whole marriage debate largely but ultimately she seemed to think it was a good idea to get me engaged - as she called it - as well. I was trapped.
"What do you think of her?" Dominic whispered and gestured in the direction of the girl, when she was for once not eyeing me like a hawk staring at a mouse.
"I think she's better than the last one." Billy said on my other side. "But still rather scary."
I nodded. What would I have done without the two of them? They had been thrown out with me. 'Trio Infernal' we had been called at school and for good reasons. They were staying over for Christmas as their Dads had told them firmly they shouldn't show their faces until their mothers had calmed down a bit. At least they were not getting married of like some piece of price cattle.
"I think Dad wants to invite all the girls he thinks suitable for the New Years Ball." I said. "He says that will be my last chance to pick one. If I don't he will."
Dominic patted my shoulder in sympathy. "You could always just run away." he suggested, although he knew I never would. Still it was a comforting thought.
We watched the social dance between my parents and the Lady of the house unfold. It held a curious kind of grace but still was incredibly boring. At least it would be the last one for today. It took my Dad about two hours to get the amount of money he wanted and till the Lady had her invitation for the New Years Eve.
"Tell me, where is your son?" my father asked curiously, when we were already on the veranda again, saying our goodbyes. "I remember him being quite a bright boy."
"He is somewhat of a rascal." the Lady answered, sounding rather icy. "Always gets into trouble."
What a shame. I certainly would have enjoyed meeting him instead of...
Before I could finish the thought the daughter cornered me again. "It was such a pleasure meeting you." she piped, standing on her tiptoes and forcing a kiss onto my cheek. "I am looking so much forward to see you at the party."
"Yeah, me too." I heard myself say. Politeness really gets ingrained to a point where it gets frightening.
My father was beaming happily, the boy he had just asked after already forgotten.
I realised that I had really done enough to satisfy his need for a good son for today.
"Me and the boys will go and have a bit of fun in town." I told him, when we went down to my parents' car and our motorcycles. "We'll see you later."
"You'll be home before midnight." he said in his sternest 'fatherly voice'.
Billy answered before I could say anything sarcastic. "Of course, sir, we'll take good care of him."
Yeah, sure, send the wolves to care for the lamb. But my father seemed satisfied with Billy's reassurance so not much later we were off to town to party away the dust that had gathered on us during the 'social afternoon'.
----
- Orlando -
Riding a horse through an abandoned, snow-covered forest at dawn might be considered romantic, but when it is early December, freezing like hell, and the only thing you are wearing is the uniform of a pizza-boy, romance is one of the last things that comes to your mind.
Right then, all I was thinking of was to get home before Cate noticed that me and Nicholas were gone, and before important parts of me froze off.
I had sneaked out at midnight to get to my shift at Joey's, but Rose's bike, the one I usually used to get to town, was broken. Cursing, I had checked my options, only to find that the only way to get there in time without waking up the whole mansion was to take Nicholas. Neither me nor the horse were happy with that choice, but I was working at Joey's for him, so he could add his part just as well.
Ever noticed that finding a parking for your car is hilariously easy compared to finding a place to park a horse for a few hours? Not to mention the remarks of my colleagues when I entered the pizzeria's garage with a horse trotting after me.
But I survived that just the way I had survived so many other
things, and when my shift was over, the sun was already rising above the hills.
Nicholas blinked at me in a way that told me he had been fed with far too
many carrots and bread, but that he was rather happy with it.
The fodder he got at home was, well, rather simple and carefully measured,
to put it politely.
So there I was, riding through the forest that was the best shortcut to get to my family's mansion, still clad in the blue and red uniform of Joey's. I was even wearing that insufferable baseball-cap that came with the uniform, grateful for every bit of cloth I could wear. At least I had thought of taking some gloves with me when I left my place in a rush.
With a wry grin I thought of the last evening, and the way my stepmother had found job after job to keep me busy all night. What had I done to her that she hated me that much? I surely had given her a chance when father brought her home, mere two years before he died. She had been rather nice, then, a bit reserved, though I had though we could at least become friends. But all that had changed with my father's death.
An unexpected sound woke me out of my thoughts. A loud groan,
like a hurt animal, or a person in great pain.
I halted Nicholas, and we both quieted up, listening, watching.
We had come to a place in the forest where the main road was rather close by, and it was there the ominous sounds came from. Also, headlights could be seen vaguely through the barren trees, and I heard a motor hum in the relative silence of the early morning.
I was tired, I wanted nothing more than go home, maybe find another hour of sleep before I was called to duty again. But if it was an accident? Maybe they had hit a deer and needed help.
With a sigh, I jumped off Nicholas, loosely binding him to a low branch, telling him softly:
"I'll be right back, dear Nicholas. You'll soon be back in your stable."
And then I went off, jumping through the forest as silent
as nimble as possible in my tired state. But I think I still did rather well,
for I knew theses woods by heart. My father had often taken me out here when
I was still a kid, riding, or walking. As often as possible, we did our fencing
lessons in the forest, joking and laughing, or we went collecting mushrooms
together. Usually, we either brought home so many we could never have eaten
them in hundred years or not a single one at all. It had been a good time.
I had to smile when I though of my father, his somewhat grave voice explaining
to me that I had to learn how to wield a blade if ever I wanted to be accepted
on a school of any quality acceptable for a young man with a future so bright
and promising as mine.
Yea. I've been employee of the month at Joey's pizza for thirteen month in
a row by now.
What a great life.
Sneaking close, I noticed motorbikes being parked besides the road, their drivers probably somewhere in the forest in front of me. The groans that had made me have a look at the scene had taken on a definite retching quality, and judging by the three very expensive motorbikes up on the road, I had quite a good idea of what to expect. But I still had to make sure no-one needed help.
So I tried to move as soundlessly as possible through the bushes that riddled the forest so close to the road, carefully trying to stay unseen by anyone who might be with the retching person on the ground.
"Gods, Dom", I heard a man's voice when I approached the scenery. "How much of that stuff did you drink?"
Peeping around a huge bush of Holly, I saw two young men
in a clearing close to the road; one of them standing, the other one on his
knees in front of a strangely bluish-brown puddle, steaming softly in the
chill air. So the rich boys had had a little bit too much of the good life
in town, I thought shaking my head.
The standing one caught my eye, tall and blond as he was, and I couldn't help
but smirk. He was wearing nothing but dark brown Chinos and a pale brown turtleneck
that most advantageously shoved his lovely shoulders.
He had tucked a pair of gloves into the rear pocket of his trousers, his jacket
apparently lying underneath his sick companion, his helmet probably being
one of those dangling at the motorbike's handlebars.
He looked rather sober compared to his companion, and seemed to be in his
twenties.
Startling green eyes that apparently laughed often.
He looked nice.
I almost whacked myself to get out of my daydream. What was
I doing? Swooning over a boy I didn't know, sitting behind a bush early in
the morning, freezing my butt off, when I had to be back at work in ninety
minutes?
But then again, this guy made me smile. And I hadn't been smiling genuinely
for quite a long time. It was such a nice gesture of him to offer his jacket
to his companion who was still puking his guts out.
What had that guy been drinking, anyway?
Suddenly, the driver of the third bike appeared on the clearing, zipping up the trousers of his gaudy blue-and-yellow biking suit. Dark haired, a head shorter than the standing one, he seemed to me just the average, irrelevant rich boy.
"So, how' our sick boy doing, Davie?"
So my cute one's name was David, apparently. Nice name for a nice boy.
"Nothing new", he said without taking his hands out of his pockets, impatiently stepping from one foot to the other. The third guy walked over to the sick one, watching him with concern. Then, as he noticed the irritating colour of the liquid his companion disgorged in surprising amounts, he turned around to David, asking with slight disgust:
"What the hell's he been drinking?"
"Curacao", the blond one replied laconically.
"That much?"
David just shrugged, walking up and down a bit to keep him warm.
They were sweet, in a way. And I liked the way David's muscled
body filled the fabric of his pullover, the way he walked with his hands in
his pockets. Might be nice to have my hands in his pockets as well, I mused,
banning all further thought of that kind from my mind immediately.
What was I thinking? He probably was the son of one of the rich, respectable
families here in the area, and I was just the pizza-boy. And a boy, making
the whole thing even worse. No way I would even get close to him.
Not in a hundred years.
"Hey, David"; the third one said after observing their slowly recovering companion for a while. "Do you think he learned not to drink too much?" He swayed slightly, obviously not completely sober himself.
"Why should he have?", David answered, slight annoyance in his voice.
"We literally had to carry him onto his bike. It'll be years we can go into that club again and not hear this story a hundred times over."
"So?"
"Why can't we have him puke in his helmet or something? That'll be a lesson for him tomorrow."
"Billy!"
"Why not? We could at least put his boots in..."
"You're sick, man!"
"No, he's sick.", Billy replied awkwardly.
Both David and Billy were now standing next to their friend, both keeping their hands in their pockets, both staring at the pathetic figure on the ground.
"We could flatten one of his tires! That would sure sober him up if he'd to push his bike - "
"Billy, for heaven's sake!"
I decided I didn't like that Billy.
I can't remember on how I got the impression I had to do
something, but I blame it on being very tired and not able of very rational
thought that I found myself preparing a nice, big snowball that eventually
should end up in Billy's face.
In his very surprised face.
Don't ask me, right then it seemed very funny.
So I left my protective cover just a bit more, threw that
ball, ready to duck away again within an instant.
But, unfortunately, my aim seemed to have gone just like my caution, and not
only did I miss Billy, of all things I didn't want to do, I managed to hit
David squarely in his face.
And, shocked by this unexpected turn of events, forgot to cover again.
"There!", Billy yelled immediately, pointing at me like a compass and sprinting off like a dog to catch me.
FUCK!
So I turned around, running away like a deer myself, hoping that maybe, with a bit of luck, I was fitter and could outrun them. Or, even better, could use a track so difficult to follow that they would give up.
Jumping over fallen trees, dodging low branches, I realised
I could not run straight on, for I would lead them directly back to Nicholas,
and if they even saw me with that horse, it would only be a matter of days
that they would have tracked it down to belong to our mansion.
And then God have mercy on me, for Cate surely would not.
So I decided to run a long turn, maybe losing my pursuers in the process - but I was mistaken. Both seemed to be rather agile, and though Billy cursed and yelled at every single plant in his way, he kept up quite well.
But after a short time, I lost sight of them, and stopped to catch my breath and listen if they were still around.
Yes, they were, and apparently they had split up and now
tried to corner me between them. Damn!
The only way I could run now was out onto the open fields, where they would
not loose track of me for ages.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK!
With a shrug, I decided that the only way to hide would be to climb up in one of the huge fir-trees, hoping the glaring light of the rising sun would shelter me in the relative darkness of the snow-covered branches.
I hadn't climbed a tree for ages, but it worked quite perfectly.
Soon, I was up among the branched, staring down at the bright-white patch
of snow underneath me.
The white patch of snow clearly showing my footprints.
Damn! I definitely was too tired.
Only moments later, David walked up to the tree-trunk, breathing
heavily with exertion, looking around, searching for me.
He looked good, in the golden light of morning, falling almost horizontally
into the forest. His cheeks flushed, his chest heaving, he made me think of
quite a different situation where I would like to see him that exhausted because
of me. Naughty boy, I scolded myself as suddenly, David looked up, straight
into my eyes.
"Hey, Billy!", he yelled, waving at the other man somewhere out of my field of sight. "He's here!"
David sheltered his eyes from the sunlight, blinking up to me in irritation.
"It's a pizza-boy...", he stated in bewilderment as Billy walked up to him.
"What?!"
Instead of an answer, David just pointed up, and seconds
later Billy was staring up at me with the same surprise as his friend.
Maybe it wasn't such a wise idea to wear a uniform with your employer's name
written all over it in screaming letters.
"Hey, who are you; what are you doing there?"
What an exclusively stupid question.
"I'm a squirrel", I answered sarcastically. "Searching for breakfast."
"Get down here!", the blond one ordered.
"What about you getting up here?", I replied, rather sure that he would not find the few places he could use as support on the first branchless meters.
"You're quite a cute squirrel, you know?"
Before I could realise David actually had made me a compliment, I yelled down:
"Fuck you!"
"A cute and naughty little squirrel, it seems."
"Get lost!" Was it just me or was this the strangest conversation I ever had?
"I'll shake you off your tree, if you don't come down!"
"Be my guest."
He wouldn't be able to shake the tree at all, not unless
he carried a pocket-chainsaw on him right now.
Which, probably, he didn't.
"We'll beat you black and blue!", Billy growled up the tree. "As soon as you get down here!"
Yea, sure. How on earth could a boy as cute as David hang out with such a moron?
"Hey squirrel, what's your name?"
I definitely was too tired. Now I even imagined David trying
to hit on me.
Deciding I had to get out of this, I dared to climb up a few branches more,
even though they got uncomfortably thin already. But I was rewarded.
"Hey, he's gone!", David exclaimed softly after a while.
I'm not gone, silly, you just can't see me anymore. Maybe he wasn't that sober after all.
"Who's gone?"
"The squirrel. Let's go. I don't want to stand here all day."
"All right", Billy said disappointedly as they started to walk away. "But I didn't see any squirrel - OUCH! Fuck! Why'd you whack me? * Ouch!"
Listening to their voices trailing away, I leaned back to the stump of the tree, wondering at how closely I had passed a catastrophe of most painful proportions. I would still be in time for work, though it probably would only be enough time left to shower and get dressed. No sleep tonight.
With a sigh, I started to climb down again, smiling at the
image of David I apparently could not get out of my mind.
'A cute squirrel', he had called me.
Probably we would never meet again, but sometimes a dream is all you need
to get you through the day, isn't it?
Humming a tiny, happy tune, I jogged back to Nicholas, galloping away to be at the stables before anybody could miss us.
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go to PART 2