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.
The Exchange Students - 4. Chapter 4
**
"They just broke the high school record, and that's after already running two miles!" said Coach Krebs. "Hell, the men's world record is forty-three seconds. I wouldn't be surprised if they threatened that time if they were fresh. Look at them. They aren't even winded. They're astonishing."
Coach Krebs was so excited I was afraid he'd pee his pants.
We watched the four boys run toward Lake Merced to log more miles.
I thought, 'Who are these guys!'
**
Friday, in the second period, I asked Oscar about his running and that of the other Norwegians.
"I watched you work out yesterday," I said. "You and the rest of the guys are amazing."
Oscar's expression grew serious. "Matt, I have to ask you not to share what you observed with anyone. We will ask the same of Coach Krebs."
"Why are you keeping it a secret? You guys are terrific. I'd tell everyone if I was you," I said.
"We have our reasons. We work hard to avoid notoriety. Running on the school track was a mistake," he said. "We'll find somewhere else to work out in the future. Will you keep our secret?"
"Yes, I won't tell anyone."
"Thanks, Matt."
Don Larkin started the class by discussing Austrian Gregor Mendel's experiments and Germans' work, such as Felix Hoppe-Seyer, Friedrich Miescher, and Albrecht Kossel. We learned Mendel was instrumental in developing some of the early theories of genetics. Seyer, Miescher, and Kossel contributed to the knowledge of biochemistry.
A knock on the classroom door interrupted the discussion. It seemed strange to me. Late students would usually enter the classroom and take a seat while trying not to attract attention to themselves.
Don rose from sitting on the front desk and answered the door. A boy with penetrating, bordering on severe blue eyes and dark hair stood just outside the door. I thought he was kind of hot! He presented Don with paperwork of some kind. It reminded me of something from an old Cold War formal presentation of documents.
Don turned to the class and said. "We have a new student joining us today. His name is Ralph. Welcome. There is a free seat next to Matt."
A strange thing happened. I felt, then saw, Oscar visibly stiffen. He appeared suddenly hyper-alert. I felt like asking him what the matter was. Ralph took his seat, and Don continued with the class.
"I asked the class a question on our second day concerning the early development of genetic research in Germanic countries. Oscar provided us with a concise answer. Now that we've discussed some nineteenth-century scientists, can anyone explain why the major research and breakthroughs in the twentieth century moved to France and the English-speaking countries?"
Several people offered an opinion, much of it revolving around the two world wars and the rise of Nazi Germany.
Ralph raised his hand.
"Ralph, I'm happy you're comfortable enough to offer an opinion on your first day. What do you think?" said Don.
Ralph stood. I'd never seen anyone stand to answer a question in my ten years of school.
Standing erectly, he said. "It didn't."
After a short pause, Don said. "I know you haven't had a chance to read the textbook, but I'm curious. Why do you think the major DNA research didn't move away from the Germanic countries?"
Ralph stated, "Even during the First World War, Germany continued advancing biochemistry research. Under the National Socialist, all research moved underground and researchers no longer shared their findings with the scientists of other nations."
The buzzer rang. Don said, "That's an interesting take, Ralph. We'll pick this up on Tuesday, after the Labor Day weekend ." We all filed out to our next classes. I didn't see Ralph for the rest of the day.
Emma, Brad, and I hoped to meet with the Norwegians after school. We hadn't arranged anything, but we were spending more time together lately and thought they might want to hang with us. We didn't see them and decided to walk over to Stern Grove. The grove is an intimate, shady grouping of redwood trees. On summer Sundays, they offer free concerts. The concerts are varied, from the Commodores to Lucinda Williams to the San Francisco Symphony to Chaka Khan. Other than the concerts, Stern Grove is a contemplative space and an excellent place to talk.
We found a comfy bench among the redwoods and next to a pond. Other than a few foraging squirrels, we were the only ones there.
"How are things going with you and Frank?" Brad asked Emma.
"We get along really well," she said.
"You don't sound too sure about that," Brad said.
"It's just that Norwegian boys seem to move a little slower than American boys. I've given him every opportunity, and he hasn't even kissed me yet."
"Might be a cultural thing. Maybe Frank needs to ask permission from your parents before he boinks you," laughed Brad.
"God! I hope not," she said.
"By the way, Matt, is there any action with Oscar?" she asked.
I could feel myself blushing. "You know?"
"Of course, I know. Who do you think you're trying to kid."
"The sauna was kinda hot, but we didn't touch each other," I said.
"Sauna! What did I miss?" she asked.
Brad and I filled Emma in on events after we dropped her and Brad's girlfriend off at their houses last Friday.
"You saw them naked?"
"Naked and hard," said Brad. "Believe me, Emma, you won't be disappointed."
She cooed.
I woke up early Saturday morning. I prepared the grill, and my brother and I set up the large table and chairs on the patio.
I was excited and nervous at the same time. I wanted everything to go just right. My dad picked up fresh Pacific salmon, and I helped my mom prepare ratatouille.
We have a peach tree in the backyard. It's one of my dad's favorite things. Our peaches ripen later than in much of California due to the cooler temperature on the San Francisco peninsula, and they were perfect. My sister, Leslie, and I made an Autumn spiced peach cake for dessert. It looked and smelled delicious! There I go with smelling stuff again. I guess it's not perverted to smell cake.
I showered, straightened up my room (just in case Oscar wanted to see my bed), and anxiously waited for the Norwegians, Emma and Brad, to arrive.
I heard the doorbell ring, looked out the window, and rushed down the steps to greet my guests.
Brad and Emma already knew my family. I introduced the Norwegians to my parents, sister, Leslie, and brother, Tim.
Everyone was painfully polite until my brother asked Jakob, "You want to see my rope swing?"
We had the tallest tree in the neighborhood. We called it the Great Pine Tree. That fact was a source of pride for me and my siblings in the neighborhood. My dad strung a rope over one of the lower branches when I was little, and my sister, the neighborhood kids, and I would swing on it all day. As we grew, ropes would wear out, and my dad would sting a new line on higher and higher limbs. Currently, the rope hangs from a limb over forty feet high. We climbed the back fence and swung across the entire yard, letting go at the peak of the swing and going for distance. My next-door neighbor, Wayne, holds the record at just past the fig tree. My mother was afraid we'd kill ourselves, but so far, there are no serious injuries.
I stood, partially hidden by shrubbery, next to the house and watched my brother and Jakob. Tim grew up swinging on the rope and learning from the older kids. I expect he'll break the record before he's much older.
Dad called us to help bring the side dishes to the patio table. Tim ran by me, shouting, "Come on, Jakob."
Jakob was already in place on the fence, preparing for his last rope swing. I saw him look around to be sure no one was watching, and he swung. He soared past the fig tree and gracefully landed on the fence on the other side of the yard. I wasn't surprised.
The Norwegians, my sister, brother, Emma, Brad, and my parents all congregated around the kitchen island.
Frank stepped forward and presented my mother and father with a gift wrapped in rich maroon paper and tied with natural-colored twine.
"You shouldn't have," said my mother. "I don't expect house gifts from Matt's friends."
"This is from all of us," said Frank.
"Thank you," said my dad. "I hope you didn't spend too much on this gift. We weren't expecting anything."
"Go ahead and open it!" said Jacob excitedly.
Despite her protestations, my mother was excited to receive a gift. She untied the cord and carefully removed the heavy wrapping paper. There was a box, a similar color to the wrapping paper, only several tones lighter.
My mother paused and, smiling, looked around the room. She lifted the lid of the box and removed the tissue paper. Inside the box was a bronze bowl with an aged patina. Decorative elements were soldered uniformly around the side of the bowl. It looked ancient to me.
Lifting the bowl from the box, my mother exclaimed, "This is beautiful! Where did you find such a magnificent piece?"
"It is a first millennia Old Saxon bowl," said Carson. "Archeologists found it in a graveyard near Bremen in the 1930s."
Seeing the alarm on my mom and dad's face, Carson added, "We are certain that it wasn't a funeral urn."
"It's magnificent, but we can't accept a gift like this. It should be in a museum," said my mother.
"Yes, someday it should be in a museum," said Carson. "But we would greatly appreciate it if you looked after it for a while. I should warn you that academics would ask many difficult questions about the bowl. There is nothing illegal or nefarious about the origins of the vessel."
"We would like your family to have the bowl," said Oscar.
My parents agreed to take temporary possession of the artifact.
The food was fantastic. For me, fish needs to be fresh, and the salmon tasted like the fisherman caught it that morning. The smoky flavor from the grill hit the spot. My sister's peach cake was a hit with everyone at the table.
During the meal, Jakob said, "We're thinking of driving to Lake Tahoe tomorrow, camping out, and returning on Monday. Do you guys want to go?"
Tim said, "Can I go? Can I go!"
"Not a chance," said my dad. "You've got soccer tomorrow afternoon."
"Oh yeah, I forgot," my brother said.
"Thanks for the invite, but I have a date," said Leslie.
My sister's been dating a guy from her college for almost a year. I guess it's getting kind of serious. I'm pretty sure she's getting some, and I'm jealous, but I'm still happy for her.
"I'm not going," said my mom. "My camping days are behind me. Why don't you go, Matt?"
"Can I!"
She nodded.
"It'll be fun," said Oscar. "We can share a tent. There's something I want to ask you," he said with a mischievous smile.
My mind was racing. It was going to happen Saturday night. Oscar and I will be alone in a tent. I would get laid with the most beautiful boy in the world!
It was time for Brad, Emma, the Norwegian, and me to return to the city. I packed my backpack, grabbed a sleeping bag and threw my stuff into the Norwegians SUV. It was a big vehicle with a third row of seats for extra passengers.
We all helped clear the table and load the dishes into the dishwasher.
As we were leaving, my mom whispered into my ear. "You certainly have yourself a looker, and he seems very nice. They didn't make boys like that when I was your age. I trust you to be careful, but I expect you to have the time of your life."
She kissed me on the cheek, and we left for San Francisco.
- 11
- 18
- 1
- 3
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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