Sydney/Taree Australia
Part 16

On the walk back along the river bank, B and I noticed a bunch of Aussie black kids goofing off in the water just ahead of us. Then I recognized Bobby.

"Hey, man!" I waved. "How ya doin'?"

Bobby dove off the wall of the boat ramp, held his knees to his chest, and caused a helluva splash as he hit the water. When he surfaced a moment later, he flicked the water from his jet black hair, and gave me a big toothy grin. "G'day, brother. What are you doing down here?"

"Just chillin'. Had hamburgers for lunch. This is my buddy, B. I'm staying at his house."

"Hey, you wanna get wet? Water's great!" Bobby then exited the river, and walked up the boat ramp toward us. Wow! I couldn't help noticing how well-developed his chest was, with its solid meaty pecs. Woohoo! "G'day, B," he smiled as he shook the old dude's hand. "Is it OK if Daniel swims with us?"

"No worries. You guys go ahead and have a good time. I've got some things to do back home, anyway, so I'll catch you later."

"See ya, B," I said before jumping into the river, followed almost instantly by Bobby. It was then that I noticed that the water was salty, not fresh. After surfacing, I asked Bobby who the kids were frolicking nearby.

"Brothers, cousins, neighbors. I'm looking after them. Is B looking after you?"

"Kinda, but I think it's the other way around sometimes. Why did you ask him if it was OK if I swam with you guys?"

'Cause he's your elder. We always ask our elders for permission to do stuff. Don't you?"

"Most of the time, I guess. But I do a lotta stuff without permission."

"Like?" he asked as we climbed the wall in readiness to dive in again.

"Maybe I'll tell you when I get to know you better," I grinned, then leaped into the air. Woohoo!

Between dives and fooling around with the younger kids, who were firing non-stop questions at me, as well as telling me about the sharks in the river - "Don't worry! They're only small ones!" - Bobby told me that they all lived across the bridge a mile or two up the road at a place called Purfleet. "It's an Aboriginal mission."

"No whites?"

"Some of us look white, but we've all got Koori blood."

"How come you live over there? Why not in town?"

"Cause most of us are on welfare. A few guys have got jobs, but not many. Who's gonna give a Koori a fucking job? Most whites don't trust us, or they think we're lazy no-hopers."

"Are you?" I asked, then added, "You don't look lazy," as I admired the shiny wet skin covering his muscular chest.

"I keep fit. I'm on the school football team, and I like swimming and stuff. There's also a gym in the Youth Center at the mission. Hey, you don't look too lazy yourself, bro." Then his black eyes changed into a crescent-moon shape as he flashed a knowing smile, with its rows of brilliant white teeth. "Last one in's a dickhead!"

Suddenly, he was flying through the air before creating a huge splash as he hit the water. So I waited for him to surface, then dive-bombed him. Ha!

"Hey," I laughed after surfacing, "you wanna come around to B's house? The old dude would love to talk to you. He's a writer. Tells awesome stories."

"I've gotta look after my bros and cousins."

"Well, maybe later."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Daniel, but I wouldn't feel comfortable in a white dude's house."

"Why not? B's totally cool."

"There's a lotta white folks in this town who wish we weren't here. They say we're fucking the town's reputation."

"Huh? By swimming in the river?"

"It's more than that, Daniel. There's a bunch of teens at the mission who cause a bit of trouble. They get drunk and get into deep shit with the cops. Sometimes they throw stones at passing cars outside the mission. Sometimes they break into houses or shops and stuff like that... white folks' houses, never black. If B's neighbors saw me at his house, they'd fucking freak, and B would get a bad rep, too."

"B's not like that. He is who he is and he doesn't give a shit who thinks whatever about him. Well, he gives a shit about what his friends think, but that's it. And anyway, what makes you think there aren't white teens running around causing fucking trouble? Huh? Who do you think shot a whole bunch of people at Columbine high school?"

"This is Taree, Daniel, not the States. It's different here. We've got our own probs to deal with."

"OK, I'll ask B if he and I can visit you at the mission then."

"Don't come at night, mate. Actually, maybe it's best if you don't come at all. My people would wonder what you were doing on their land. They'd be suspicious. It's not like a white 'hood where people own a piece of dirt and build a fence around it and call it theirs. The whole Aboriginal community owns Purfleet. That's our culture. We share everything. Nobody owns the land except the spirits from the Dream Time."

"You mean we can't be friends?"

"It ain't easy, mate."

"But that's bullshit!" I insisted. "Why can't we be friends? We like each other, don't we? At least, I like you. You've got a totally wicked smile, bro. And so do your bros and cousins. Those smiles are just so damn cute! It's like you've all graduated from smiling school," I laughed.

"Here comes my uncle and aunty," Bobby said as he glanced toward an old, beat-up Ford truck, heading our way. "Guess we'd better be going."

"When will I see you again? How can I get in touch? Hey, I've got an idea! B's got the phone on. How about you gimme a call later?" As the old Ford rolled to a halt near the boat ramp, I got Bobby to get a pen and some paper from his uncle. Then I wrote down B's phone number. "Be sure to call. OK?"

"Why do you wanna be my friend?"

"Why? What kinda lamo question is that, Bobby? I wanna 'cause I wanna," I shrugged as I turned my hands palm side up. "Do I need another reason?"

"You're not like most whities."

"Maybe you don't know many."

After I'd watched the old Ford follow the road back to the bridge, I headed home to B's house, where he was sitting at the comp, tapping away at the keyboard.

"What are you writing?"

"Stop looking over my shoulder."

"Ooer! You're describing a sex scene. Wow! That's hot! Whoa! You're making me horny, B. Maybe I should jack off and blow all over the screen. Then you could clean it by licking it off."

"Daniel! Please!"

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"It's neither. You know very well that I wouldn't... what you said."

"Lick it off? Maybe not while I'm looking," I cracked. "Anyway, settle down, B. I'm just teasing you. Hey, I gave Bobby your phone number. He's gonna call later. At least, I hope he will. He's such a cool guy. What did you think of him?"

"Very handsome."

"Cut the crap, B. Handsome schmandsome. He's a fucking hottie! Did you notice his chest? What the fuck am I saying? Of course you noticed. You're a dirty old gawker." Then I leaned down and planted a little kiss on the old dude's cheek. "Are you mad at me?"

"Yes. You're interrupting my train of thought."

"How mad? Tell me how mad on a scale of ten."

"Fifty seven."

"Then how come you're smiling? Hey, do you mind if I use this jar full of pencils and pens?"

"Not a problem. Go and amuse yourself drawing something while I try to finish this story... in peace!"

I removed the pencils and pens from the large jar, placed them on a bench, then pulled my semi outa my shorts, and began to piss. B was kinda concentrating on what he was typing, so it took a few seconds before he noticed what I was doing. He looked to his right, saw the jar being slowly filled with piss, then raised his eyes to mine. "What the devil are you doing?"

"You've got three guesses. And don't make me laugh, B, else I'll spill my piss all over the place."

"Is Sue in the toilet?"

"Nope."

"Then why are you peeing in my jar?"

"'Cause it's no fun pissing in the toilet, B," I reasoned. "It's more fun watching you freak. Oops! Now see what you've done? Damn! I've spilled a bit 'cause you made me laugh. Hey," I added as I squirted the last few jets of warm yellow liquid into the jar, "are you gonna put this in the story?"

"No."

"Why not? It's horny! Paul would love to read it. He gets off on my piss. So does Dick and some of the other guys. Kyle doesn't, though. And I don't get off on his... well, not all that much. I wonder why some guys do and some guys don't."

"There's no answer to that," he muttered as he continued to gawk at my semi.

"There's gotta be an answer, B, and you're the guy with all the answers."

"On the contrary, Daniel. I'm the guy with all the questions, some of which I may have the answers to; 'may' being the operative word."

"There's enough room left in the jar if you wanna take a pee," I smiled as I placed it under his nose. "Can I watch?"

"Daniel! Stop that! Take that jar to the toilet, empty the contents, then wash it and dry it thoroughly in the bathroom. I don't want my pencils getting... soggy."

"You're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," he blustered. "I'm... I'm... I need a drink."

"Will this do?"

"DANIEL! STOP THAT!"

"OK, OK, I'm going, I'm going." Then I paused at the doorway. "Hey, B, you're really cute when you're mad."

Later that afternoon, I put on a shirt - which B insisted on - and accompanied him to the supermarket to shop for dinner. We walked along the rows of freshly packaged steak, chicken, pork, veal, lamb and everything else you could think of. "How about a stir fry?" he asked as he picked up a pack of diced chicken breast and studied it. "We could have it with cacciatore simmer sauce... and I could chop up a bit of celery, spring onion, garlic, carrot, and whatever... and I could serve it with pasta. What kinda pasta shapes do you like?"

"The bow tie ones."

"A bit wussy for you," B grinned.

"Hey! I'm a guy with many facets."

The trolley was pretty damn full by the time we got to the rows of checkouts. At first, I didn't understand why B had chosen the checkout with the longest queue. Then I spotted the young guy at the cash register. "B, you're a fucking disgrace!"

"Shhhhh."

"You're fucking hopeless," I said in a whisper, leaning closer to his ear. "You're an incurable gawker. What's the matter with you? You've got me to gawk at!"

"Shhhhh."

"I am shooshing!"

As we got closer to the checkout guy - who was about sixteen and pretty hunky - I removed my t shirt, and tied it around my waist. "Hot in here," I explained as B turned to see what I had done, and sent his bushy eyebrows toward the ceiling.

"Daniel! This is an air-conditioned supermarket!"

"It's still hot. Anyway, I wanna see if that checkout guy gawks at me."

Bummer! When it was our turn to be served, the young dude hardly noticed me. He just went about the business of running all the grocery items past the scanner, then placing them in plastic bags. "That's $97, sir," he smiled at B.

As we left the supermarket, sharing the load of plastic bags between us, I looked back at the checkout dude, who was serving the next customer. Suddenly, he glanced at me, smiled briefly, and gave me a wink. Then he went back to serving the customer.

"Yes! Did you see that, B? That young dude smiled and winked at me just now. So how come he didn't gawk before?"

"Probably thought I was your dad or something. He was probably embarrassed to look at you. Not everyone is as outrageous or as forward as you, Daniel."

"Woohoo! So he wanted to gawk, but he didn't have the nerve. Hey, that's pretty cool. I feel better now."

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