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    Palantir
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Trouble Plus Trouble. - 6. Chapter 6

Egg-nog.

Double The Trouble.

Chapter 6.

 

In the morning Peter couldn't wait to see Matthew and they met when the first bell rang. There was no school assembly so they had time to catch up on everything before their first class.

"Guess what Peter? You're coming to my place tomorrow night. And you'll have to eat my cooking because dad often gets home late on Fridays."

This was quite exciting for Peter and he wanted to quiz Matthew about it, but he had his own exciting news.

"Well, guess what Matthew? Something else is happening too and you're in it."

"Yes?"

"Will I tell you later when we can talk about it better?"

Matthew laughed and waited. He could probably see how much Peter was bursting to talk.

"We're going on a trip and you're coming with us."

"Me? With you and your mum?"

Once again Peter wondered why Matthew sounded as if he was surprised someone would ask him.

"Of course it's you. And it's with Andy and Marty. We're going back to my old town for the long weekend. We’re going to camp on the beach in the sand dunes and do stacks of surfing. Your dad will let you come won’t he?"

"He'll be really pleased. Wow! How come they asked me? They're your friends really."

"Yes, but you're mine."

Peter felt really confident in saying this.

"Yes, and you’re coming over tomorrow aren’t you?"

They were both smiling now but they couldn't speak any more because they had to leave for their first class. At lunchtime they met up with Andy and Marty and went to the cow paddock, where Peter copped heaps about the photo albums. From Andy and Marty's description you'd think he was a sex maniac when he was four years old, and Matthew was given graphic descriptions of various photos that had grabbed their attention.

"The flag one’s the best. He’s marching nude at the front of the whole parade and we’re getting him to do it again on this long weekend. Hey, are there many lifesavers at this place Peter?"

Most of the talk was about the trip of course.

There was some drama in the afternoon at the end of training, but for once it didn't involve Peter. Phillips sneaked up behind Andy and shoved someone's runner between his legs, making him jump forward in surprise. Marty was watching though and when Phillips went in the wrong direction to escape, he was caught and held under the cold shower. All the warm weather meant that the water wasn't very cold so he got off lightly but Peter shuddered to think what it would feel like in winter. Phillips was laughing as much as everyone else and telling Marty it would be his turn sometime. Peter didn't see how because Marty was too strong.

Matthew was dropped off and Peter promised to ring him after his mum got home. Marty was next and then Peter went to Andy's.

"Hey brat, I owe you for giving Marty that hair the other day. Come and take your medicine."

As if there was any choice. Andy grabbed him in a headlock, knuckled him a few times then dumped him on the floor.

"Bully! Pick on someone your own size."

"What? Wait five years till you grow up enough?"

Peter grabbed hold of Andy's knee which was resting on his chest and tugged at the light golden hairs growing near his ankle. There was a satisfying yelp so he did it again.

"Woman! Cheat!"

"Wimp! You couldn't take the stuff you do to me."

"Oh yeah? All right, I give in then. Let’s see what you do. If you're game that is."

Sometimes Andy did this, acted like he'd gone all weak, so Peter put him on the floor on his back and sat on him in a reversal of the normal situation.

"Put your hands behind your head and leave them there."

"Yes Boss."

"Are you going to get me back? Or can you take it?"

"That's for you to find out isn't it?"

Peter set his fingers going for a red chest episode and watched Andy watching him. He kept going and Andy didn't flinch, even when the color built and Peter used more pressure. He did get a bit of an evil grin though, so Peter changed tactics and moved the point of impact away from the centre of Andy's breast bone to the muscle tissue just below his rib cage. Good. The rapid tapping was getting a reaction.

"Gaah. Stop it."

"See. I knew you couldn't take it."

"It doesn't hurt Peter. It tickles. You could even punch and it wouldn't hurt."

This was too strong an invitation to miss so Peter wriggled further down to give himself more access to Andy's stomach. Whoops. Andy bent his knees up and nearly bucked Peter off in a reflexive action to protect himself.

"God. Careful. You nearly steam-rollered me."

Peter moved even further back so he was sitting on Andy's thighs and gave a reasonably hard whack with his fist right into the tautened stomach. It sounded loud to Peter, but Andy laughed at him. Peter gave a much harder whack and then abandoned the effort. He was most impressed, but had another target in mind, one which he was sure would make Andy move his hands and so lose the challenge. And besides, it was fair enough too, after the number of times Andy had done it to him. The first tickle made Andy tense up and quiver in reaction, but his arm stayed put, and the look on his face as much as told Peter he'd have to do better than that. A few more tickles nearly got him tipped off again so he went straight for Andy's belly button.

"Oh no you don't. You'll need Marty before you can try that."

So much for the hands behind the head rule. The situation flipped again and Peter was at Andy's mercy.

"So? What happens now?"

"Nothing. It's time for me to go home."

"Too bad. First of all there’s this."

Andy’s fingers drummed their tattoo on Peter's chest till he begged for it to stop.

"And now there's this."

Andy's hands sent Peter squirming and laughing till he was out of breath and once again begging.

"And what's next Peter?"

"Nothing, you tipped me off."

"Ha! Tell me what to do or I'll do it for five minutes."

Five minutes. Oh my God. If he did it for that long Peter didn’t know what would happen.

"One minute if I tell you?"

"Okay. Tell me."

"Um. Belly-button me."

Andy thought that was so funny.

"Well you asked for it. I was going to give you a red belly."

Whoops. He'd been thinking so much about his attempt to belly-button Andy he'd forgotten the red belly. Now he'd put himself in for it. Andy didn't take any notice of the one-minute rule. He kept tickling till Peter was fully boned and very uncomfortable from not being able to rearrange himself in his boxers and shorts.

"God Peter. You get a bone faster than anyone."

"How can I help it with you groping me."

"You're getting used to it though. You're not even embarrassed."

"I am a bit."

"Are you ready to get one at the pool? I'm going to make you next week."

"What? You won't, will you?"

"Yeah, we need to."

"No one else has had one. Why does it have to be me?"

"They don’t say much, but they’re curious because you're so big, and there’s sure to be a grabbing competition before long. Phillips and his friends are always starting them."

"Grabbing competition?"

"I did it to you up the river, remember? Except I didn't grab you and you still got a bone."

"Would they really grab me?"

"For sure. Not all of them. But Phillips will, and there's a few others too."

"Does it have to be next week?"

"No. But then it might be someone else except me for your first time. Wouldn’t that worry you?"

"Yes."

Peter thought about it and decided he wanted to take the chance, which made Andy laugh and say he'd give him more practice so he’d get used to it.

"Peter. Can we figure out when we’ll work on my maths? I told my olds about it and they’re really pleased. They were going to get a tutor for me but they’re putting that off to see if this works instead."

So that was why Andy had been so keen on the idea. He must be getting a fair bit of pressure if his parents were thinking about paying out all that money.

"Have you got your maths stuff here? We'll do some now."

"God. It's a payback ‘cause I got you isn't it? We're doing these stupid surd things at the moment. Do you know much about them?"

"I did them two years ago Andy."

Half an hour later Peter was really enjoying himself. It was kind of strange being in charge of Andy and telling him what to do, but mostly it was because Andy was going really well. When Peter left Andy was tackling his homework sheet. He was going to get most of it right too. His mum was already preparing their meal when he reached home so he dumped his things and started helping. They talked, mostly about how to find enough time to do all his study.

"You might have to stop reading so many books Peter."

She was stirring. That so totally wouldn't happen. His old pattern, of doing his set homework when he got home in the afternoon, and then studying whatever he felt like in the evening, was totally wiped out with all the swimming practice. This had jumped from two afternoons to four or five and Matthew wanted this to keep going for another month at least. In the end he decided to try keeping at least four school nights for study and using weekends how ever he felt like.

"Will helping Andy and Marty and Matthew take up too much of your time?"

"Matthew won't take up any time mum. We're doing the same subjects so we’ll be helping each other really. I helped Andy this afternoon just before I came home and he’s better than he thinks. I talked it over with him and I'm going to help him and Marty at the same time, otherwise I'll have to go over the same stuff twice every week."

"Do you need to do so much swimming? You said it was going to be two hours a week and it's been every afternoon so far."

“Matthew wants me to. And he's cooking tea for me tomorrow night too. He said his dad wants to meet me."

"I hope you behave yourself then."

She was stirring because Peter knew she trusted him one hundred percent.

"I'll try. But you know what these accountants are like."

She grinned at him and said to be careful or else she'd show Matthew the photo albums. Before he started his studying, Peter rang Matthew to tell him everything was okay, then he sat down with the intention of at least three hours of solid work. He only made half that and had to go to bed when he couldn't keep his eyes open.

The next evening was really interesting. Andy dropped them off after training and Matthew showed Peter round the house. It was enormous. A great big double storey place which Matthew said his dad had bought as an investment.

"It’s way too big for us but dad thinks house prices are all going to go up in the next few years and then we'll sell out and get a smaller place. We'll probably get a town-house like yours. He reckons I'll probably desert him if I go to Uni so he won't need much room at all."

Matthew's room was upstairs and Peter thought it was neat. You could walk out a sliding door onto a balcony which went along the back of the house. The view looked down onto a large backyard and over a fence, to a reserve with a small oval and lots of grassy areas.

"It doesn't feel like you're in the city Matthew."

"If you look sideways it does, but it’s good isn't it?"

On the wall were a couple of posters of swimmers. One was famous, and Peter thought he recognised the other one too.

"Who's this one?"

"He was in my club. He’s a really nice guy who helped me with my swimming."

There was a bookshelf, not very big, but they didn't stop to look at it because Matthew had to get the meal organised.

"Can you play the guitar?"

"A bit."

"You never said anything about it."

On the way out of the bedroom Peter had glimpsed the guitar between the cupboard and a chair. There were having a stir-fry for their meal and Matthew had everything organised and ready for when his dad arrived.

"Stir-fry’s a good meal. It cooks so quickly I can wait till dad gets here before I start. He should be home about six so there's over an hour to wait. Do you want to try a special drink? Dad says it’ll put hairs on my chest, but it hasn't worked yet."

He laughed at this.

"It hasn't worked on him either."

"What is it?"

"Egg-nog. I’ll make one, and if you like the taste we can make another."

A glass of milk, some sugar, a few drops of vanilla essence and finally a raw egg were all put into the vitimiser and mixed till there was a layer of froth on the top.

"The egg’s raw."

"I bet you like it. Here, have a taste."

He poured the mixture into a tall glass and handed it over. Rather dubious about the raw egg, Peter had a quick sniff first, then set the glass to his lips. The foam stuff tasted good so he tilted the glass enough to get a small mouthful of the liquid. It really was good, but why was Matthew smiling?

"It gives you a moustache Peter, so you have to lick it off. It's like a little tradition for me and dad. Go on."

Peter could feel the foamy stuff on his top lip and he moved his tongue in a big arc from one side to the other and then back again.

"You're like me. I do it in two licks too. Dad always does it with one. Will I make another drink or not?"

"Yum. Make another one. It’s good."

"Dad says it’s good for instant energy when you've been training hard. He’s right too."

Matthew went through the whole process again, putting extra sugar in this time and explaining that it made more froth, which he liked the most. Matthew's tongue did two licks when he finished his first gulp, and Peter couldn't help smiling at it. They finished the drinks and went back to the bedroom where Peter found six novels he wanted to read, then spent half an hour on their Physics topic before rushing downstairs when they heard the car drive in. Peter nearly fell over. They could be twins, except of course, Matthew's dad looked older. They were even smiling the same.

"So, I finally get to meet the legendary Peter."

Peter, rather taken aback, looked at Matthew who was nodding in agreement, then felt his hand clasped in a firm friendly grip.

"And you’re game enough to suffer Matthew's cooking too. Well I hope he doesn't poison us tonight."

Peter felt his own smile growing.

"He's already tried once."

"Hey, that's dad's poison. Not mine."

"My poison Matthew? Have you been giving me a bad reputation?"

"We had an egg-nog and all the hairs fell off Peter's chest."

They even laughed the same way.

"Well I'm going to have a shower while the servants do all the work. I've got it well organised haven’t I Peter?"

Peter agreed and they all made their way inside where he watched Matthew very efficiently cook their meal while Rob had his shower.

"What's this? My food isn't ready on the table? I think I'll talk to the management about this."

"You are the management dad, and you know what talking to yourself means don't you?"

“I have to put up with this all the time Peter. I don't know how I cope. Do you give cheek to your mother?"

"No. It's the other way round at our place. I'm the one who doesn't know how to cope."

 

"Really? I'll have to have a good talk to your mum some time to find out how she does it. Matthew, I'm starving. And so’s Peter. Where's our food?"

"Guests get served first, then the cook, and you can have the scraps if there's anything left."

They talked for a while when the food was finished, then Matthew ordered his dad to do the cleaning up.

"How's that? I work all day so I can afford to feed the hungry beast then it tells me to do all the house work when I get home."

"What? And we don't do any work at school I suppose?"

"You said it Matthew. Not me. I remember school. It was one big holiday."

"Well times have changed since they invented the wheel."

"Ouch. See how he treats me Peter? They should have laws against it. I'm a victim of... Ah... Parent abuse I suppose you'd call it."

Matthew was shaking his head in mock disgust and Peter was smiling. He’d been smiling ever since they sat down.

"Come on Peter. We'd better leave the old man before he bursts into tears."

On the way upstairs Peter asked Matthew how old his dad really was.

"He's thirty-seven. How old is your mum?"

"Thirty-five. Except I’m not meant to say. She tells people she’s twenty-one plus, and I stir her about it because that means I was born when she was five years old. Then she always tells me I'm hopeless at maths."

They went to the study. It was one of the spare bedroom really, but set up well with a couple of desks and a good computer with a printer and scanner.

"It's great. Dad said I could have one of my own but I don't see the point. He hardly ever uses it for more than an hour a night so there's all the rest of the time for whatever I want. And look at this. It's got ADSL for the Internet."

"What's that?"

"It just means everything comes through faster, and I don't have to dial up either. Watch this."

He set Google running and Peter had to think of something.

"Ender’s Game."

"Hey. Good one."

There were pages of links and Matthew selected the author’s homepage. In seconds they were looking at the menu with a biography, reviews, films, pictures, interviews, a bibliography and more.

"Films? What's that mean?"

One more mouse-click and they were looking at picture shots from a film that Peter remembered seeing.

"The Abyss? I've seen it. It's good but I didn't know it was an Orson Scott Card story."

They read more and found that it wasn't Card’s own story but he'd novelised the film. Peter could have spent hours looking at the net but they had other work to do and after twenty minutes of new things about spreadsheets they left the computer and started on school stuff. The time flew by and Peter decided this was the best way to study. It was interesting how Matthew seemed to see things differently, and Peter found he had to think hard about his own ideas when they discussed something that was bothering either of them.

"Hey you two. Aren’t you ever going to stop?"

"There's a section on calculus that Peter's going to help me with. Can we do that?"

"Matthew, it's 10:30. I don't want Peter's mum worrying about him."

"She won't worry Rob."

"Maybe not, Peter. But she probably won't get to sleep till she knows you’re home, and I'm feeling like bed at the moment too."

He looked at them.

"Calculus? That sounds like heavy stuff. All right. If you want to keep working on it Peter will have to stay the night. Matthew tells me your mum wants him to stay at your place sometimes so I'm sure she won't mind if it works both ways. She doesn't get nervous at being alone in the house does she?"

"Um. No. She's always saying she wants me to get out more."

"Well, give her a ring now, and see what she says. ...What's wrong?"

"I haven't brought anything, a toothbrush or fresh clothes for tomorrow."

"Matthew’s got plenty of stuff. Just use his. Go on. That's not worth worrying about."

Peter was back in a few minutes with the news that his mum was all happy about it.

"Good. So am I. And that means I'm off to bed right now. Matthew will look after everything, but don’t let him put you on the floor for the night will you? I'll wake you both up at six in the morning and we can go for a run in the reserve."

He said his good-nights and disappeared.

"Six o'clock? Does he get up that early?"

"On Saturday mornings? No way. He loves sleeping in because he can't during the week."

They'd been over optimistic with their idea of working for another hour, and a bit after eleven they packed the books away. Matthew found a fresh towel and took Peter to the bathroom. There was a new toothbrush in a cupboard under the basin and then Matthew showed him how you had to be careful adjusting the shower to stop yourself getting scalded or frozen.

The end of Chapter 6.

Iarwain.

Egg-nog.
Copyright © 2011 Palantir; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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