Sydney/Taree Australia
Part 23

B threw a blanket on the lawn which we used as a table. Kinda like having a picnic in the backyard. Then he served up the steaming aromatic sweet and sour fish on a bed of rice, explaining that the flies had disappeared for the night, and that it was still too early for the mozzies. In the background was the most amazing sunset... clouds glowing with iridescent crimsons, pinks and oranges in a pale blue sky. There was also a refreshing breeze that cooled our naked bods. Well, B was still dressed in his trackies, so it was just Col, Jeff, and me who were naked. Woohoo!

There was a chorus of "Mmmmm!" as we tasted our first mouthful of fish. It was fucking awesome! "You're a great cook," we said almost simultaneously.

B shrugged, then took a moment to swallow. "I hate food that's not up to scratch. I don't know how people can stand to eat anything less than the best. And funnily enough, there's no more effort required to cook a decent meal than a terrible one."

There was a prolonged silence, and it seemed that B had read the vibes. "I think I need to clear the air about what happened earlier this afternoon," he said before shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth. After he'd chewed and swallowed, he continued. "Daniel does things that most people don't do. And that's why I like him so much. And when people are in his company, they tend to be influenced by him. They find themselves doing outrageous things as well. But that's OK." Then he looked at Col and Jeff. "Don't feel guilty about what happened today. I know it's not the kinda thing you'd normally do, but then you're not in normal company."

"Who's not normal?" I protested despite having a mouthful of food, and dribbling a bit down my chin, which I wiped with the back of my hand.

"I was referring to your behaviour, Daniel. Not you per se. Anyway, normal schmormal. I'm not normal either. And what's more, I don't wanna be."

"What do you wanna be?" Col asked, with the emphasis on 'do'.

"Me? I already am what I wanna be." Then B made us all wait for what he had to say next as he calmy ate another mouthful of fish. He swallowed, cocked his head to one side as he eyeballed us, then said, "An eccentric old fart."

"You're not an eccentric old fart!" I insisted.

"Oh? Then what am I?"

"You're... well, I dunno what you are... but you're cool."

B must've chuckled for a whole minute. "Cool? Do I take that as some form of teen acceptance?"

"Yeah. Cool is... well, it's not uncool."

"And what do you think?" B asked Col and Jeff. "And don't just mimick Daniel. Tell me what you really think."

There was a pause while Col tried to collect his thoughts. "Jeez, B, it's kinda hard to describe. I've never met anyone like you before... specially... well, y'know, like older. You're not a teen, but you're not like most older guys either."

"That's why cool is such a cool word," Jeff interrupted. "It kinda says it all without having to explain it."

I dunno where Col got the nerve from - maybe it was more curiosity than anything - but he asked a question that surprised the hell outa me. "Do you really think our piss is god piss?"

He kinda caught B off guard too. "That's not an easy question to answer, Colin. I know in my head that there's no such thing as god piss. Piss is piss. But... " B tested our patience again as he ate and chewed more food. But we waited 'til he resumed. "Our eyes see what's there to be seen. But our minds determine what the result is. Our minds are not like film. The image imprinted on our brains can be distorted or interpreted according to the way our mind works, or the way we think. Our eyes see, but our minds perceive. You can get two cameras to take an identical picture of a particular object, but you'll ever get two pairs of human eyes to see exactly the same thing."

"You're confusing me, B. Daniel said you think our piss is god piss."

"What I think, and what is reality or fact, may not be the same thing. But that doesn't matter. It's what I think that matters to me."

"And what do you think?"

"I think it's time for apple pie and cream. You scallywags wait here while I fetch it."

"I know what it is!" I cracked as the old dude got to his feet. "It's scallywag piss!"

B grinned at me, collected our plates, then walked toward the back steps before he looked over his shoulder at me, and said, "Same thing."

"He's a pretty amazing guy," Jeff commented.

"If you told him that, he'd say it was 'cause of me. He says everything he is is 'cause of me. He says he owes me big time. He says when he writes stories he thinks like I do. He becomes me. It's kinda scary in a way," I laughed. "It's like he knows me better than I know myself."

"And does he?"

"That's probably why he didn't move when we pissed on him. He gets all bent outa shape sometimes, and carries on like I've committed a fucking felony or whatever, but nothing really surprises him, even though he makes out like it does."

"He'd make a great buddy. Pity he's not a teen."

"Nah, I like him the way he is. Hey, how many teens have got an old dude for a bud? It's cool this way. Besides, teens don't freak the way he does. B's more fun. And he's a better cook."

"Do you think my piss is god piss?" Col asked, wearing a wide smile and a cheeky twinkle in his eye.

"I'm not into piss, man, unless I'm the pisser. But the rest of you is pretty damn impressive. Are you into piss?"

"I don't think so," the blonde hunk replied after some thought. "But I've gotta admit, it was kinda fun when the three of us were pissing on B. Actually, it was unreal!"

"A power thing?"

"Not really. More of a fun thing."

Just then, the back door slammed shut, and B headed down the stairs, carrying a tray of desserts, a bottle of wine, and four glasses. I jumped up to help him carry some of the stuff.

The apple pie, which had been divided into four portions, had been heated in the oven to crisp, and the cream had been whipped so that it stood in thick solid swirls above the golden brown pastry. Once the plates and spoons had been distributed, B filled each of the four glasses with the wine... Hmmm, chardonnay... then proposed a toast.

"This is god piss," he smiled as he twirled the glass in front of his eyes, then sniffed the contents. "Here's to wonderful company that's not only pleasant to be with, but also pleasant to look at."

"You been gawking again?" I giggled before taking a sip.

"Gawking is one of life's great pleasures, Daniel. And if it weren't for you and your friends..."

"I wish we could see ourselves as you do," Col said before stuffing his face with apple pie and cream, then continuing in a muffled voice. "I wanna know what we look like through your eyes."

"You'd need more than a camera or a mirror for that, my young friend. Anyway, it seems that you guys also see me differently to the way most people do."

I scooped a blob of cream onto my finger, then wiped it over the knob of my semi. "Oh, damn!" I pretended. "I've dropped a bit of cream. Anyone wanna lick it off?" Col, Jeff, and B stared at my dick, then at each other. "Well?" I continued. "Any takers?"

"Behave yourself, Daniel," B mumbled.

"When?"

"Now!"

"Does that include me?" Jeff asked as he leaned down and licked the cream off my cockhead.

"It means all of you," B demanded after his eyes had retracted from their jack-in-the-box springs. "If you want to have some kinda sex orgy, please go ahead, but not while I'm here. It's not that I don't approve, it's... well gawking has its limitations... at least as far as I'm concerned."

"I don't get it B," I interrupted. "You gawk at porno pics, and I know you've got some porno movies."

"That's different. I can gawk at them but they can't gawk at ME while I'm gawking at them. Anyway, how's the apple pie?"

"Excellent. Hey, listen up, B, we're gonna have to send you to gawk school. You need to chill out something serious."

"Maybe I do," he admitted. "But right now, let's just enjoy each other's company without any pressure. OK?"

"Can I ask you a question, B?" It was Col again. "When you write stories and you "become" Daniel, so to speak, are you still there? I mean, do you forget who you are while you're writing?"

"Interesting question, Colin. No. I don't forget who I am. But it's like taking dictation. I sit there pounding the keyboard while Daniel "speaks" to me."

"So he's in your head?"

"Always. But he doesn't take over. He remains a separate entity. I'm me, and he's Daniel. But I'm able to switch him on and off in my head. I don't walk around talking or thinking like him all the time." Then B burst into a raucous laugh. "And thank God for that!"

"Hey, B!" I pouted. "Don't gimme a hard time."

"You're the one who gives ME a hard time, Daniel."

"Who me? Jeez, B, you can be so fucking cruel sometimes."

"Yeah, right. When was the last time I... Never mind."

"What were you gonna say?"

"Nothing."

"Don't gimme that crap, B. You were gonna say something. Now tell us what it was or I'll..."

B put the glass of wine to his lips, and poured the entire contents down his throat. "Not a bad drop."

"Stop teasing me!"

"You're always teasing me."

"That's different. I'm a teen."

"You're absolutely correct, Daniel. You behave in a way that I never could. And if I did it would be... well, totally unacceptable. So in many ways you have the advantage. You can get away with blue murder, and I can't." B's shoulders began to rise and fall as he chuckled. "You're a scallywag!"

"With scallywag piss," I beamed.

"DON'T YOU DARE!"

"Want some extra cream on your apple pie?"

"Stop that!"

"Hey, you can have three helpings." Col and Jeff were hosing themselves as B became more and more flustered. "What do you say, guys? Should we give B three helpings of genuine boygod cream?"

B grabbed his plate, and held it to his chest, then noticed his spoon lying on the blanket, and grabbed that too. "This has gone far enough, boys. Let's all calm down."

"We're calm." Then I turned my attention to Col and Jeff. "What do you say, guys? You wanna fill B's plate with a truckload of juice? Then we can sit back and watch him eat it. How cool would that be? Woohoo!"

But we were too late. B gulped the rest of his pie and cream down, then placed his empty plate and spoon on the blanket. "There! You can do what you like with it. I've finished dining, thank you very much." He got to his feet, wobbled a bit, then announced that he was going to get another bottle of wine from the fridge. But before he left, a smile spread across his wrinkled face as he waved a finger at us, and called us all incorrigible scallywags.

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