Date: Sat, 20 Jul 2013 19:07:48 +1030
From: Robert A. Armstrong <rob.aa@hotmail.com>
Subject: Schoolie - chapter 8

Thank you all for your encouraging feedback, and discussions with me.

I remind people that this is a work of pure fiction - just an expression of
a fantasy. The resemblance of my characters by action, name, location or
description to any real person is purely coincidental - if it seems to be
you, or somebody you know, I apologise.

If relationships between boys and men is not your scene, or if you're under
age, or if it is not legal for you to be reading this, then please leave,
now, before somebody finds out!

Otherwise, enjoy!

----

From Chapter 7:

We order coffee and I add a custard tart - one of my many weaknesses. I'm
half way through it when I look up to see a police officer walk in and
stand by our table. He looks directly at me and asks, "Excuse me sir, are
you Thomas Grant?"

"Yes, sir." I answer.

"Could I please have a word, Mr Grant - outside." I look at Marty who
shrugs then, laying down my half-eaten pastry, I get up nervously and
follow. My heart is pounding as a dozen scenarios race through my mind,
foremost of which are many about me and Will.

----

Chapter 8

I cannot comprehend that I've been targeted by the police on my first trip
to the big town. How did the officer know who I was? And how did he know I
was here? And what exactly is it that I've been `busted' for?

The police officer removes his hat with his right hand and then tucks it
under his left arm. He wipes his brow and then stares at me; no, glares at
me. With the potential consequences of mucking around with one of my
students, maybe two or three, pulsing through my head, I come close to
pissing myself for the first time since I was two years old. His glare
softens, turns into a smirk and then he bursts out laughing. I fail to see
any humour in this! Then he extends his right hand and says, "Chad O'Brien.
Welcome to town."

Marty's fucking brother! Marty has somehow tipped Chad off! Wait till I get
my hands on his low-hanging balls! The bastard!

Chad and I go back inside. Marty is cackling with excitement at my expense.
He has difficulty in catching his breath to speak, "Sorry Tom. The look on
your face was priceless." Chad sits next to Tom, opposite me. Now I can see
the family resemblance. In fact, Chad is basically a slightly older version
of Marty. And handsome. And no wedding ring.

It's hard to remain annoyed when I have a double dose of that incredible
smile beaming at me from across the table. Still coming down from my
hyperventilation, I say, "Now I know why your Mum throws things at you,
Marty! Do you know that my heart nearly stopped, wondering what on earth I
had done, or whether something had happened to my parents?"

"Sorry, Tom. No problem, though. Chad's a trained paramedic as well." Very
funny. At this point, another man in uniform walks in and heads for our
booth. The insignia on his shoulder identifies him as an ambulance officer
- a real paramedic. Chad introduces their older brother, Sean.

"Pleased to meet you, Tom," Sean says. "I hope Marty's practical joke
wasn't too harsh!" So, everyone in the family knew about it! I even wonder
whether Will was in on the prank. I comment to Sean that I am pleased to
have an ambulance officer present, and that he might have been needed a few
minutes ago. Everybody laughs again, at my expense, and I begin to warm to
the humour of it all... now. If they only knew what I had to hide!

Sean slides in next to me. We chat for a while about Mum and Anna and how
pleasant life has been for the brothers in town `away from it all'. At
Chad's suggestion I swap cell phone numbers with both him and Sean. Chad
reaches across the table, lays his large policeman's hand over mine and
tells me that if I'm ever in any kind of trouble to call him and he'll sort
it out. "Seriously... ANYTHING," he emphasises. As he and Sean get up to go
back to work, Chad suddenly stops and stares at me. I know that expression
on his face! Then I hear those words. "You look sort of familiar," he
says. "I'd better check the `Wanted' posters." Marty and I look at each
other and laugh.

Having finished our coffees we head back towards the grocery store, passing
a men's wear emporium. Viewing the well-attired mannequins in the window, I
think of Will and my brain starts to hatch a plan.

The groceries today are mainly boxes, cans and a few odds and ends. Nothing
that will suffer in the heat, so Marty stows it all in the back of the SUV
and offers to show me a bit more of the town, by way of the track along the
river before we head back home.

Marty cuts down the gap between two shops. It's not really a street, but
it's wider than an alley-way. I'm impressed by its cleanliness. In the
city, something like this would be littered with rubbish and the walls
would be covered in graffiti. None of that - the worst I can see are a few
unwanted, moisture-seeking weeds growing close to the buildings. We emerge
at the river - much broader and more impressive than out in the
village. However, the level is way down from where it has obviously been in
the past, given the lack of rain in recent years. It appears to be flowing
slowly, with just a few eddies visible, indicating possible submerged
objects, maybe logs on the bottom.

We stroll for a few minutes along a narrow track that parallels the river
bank as Marty points out landmarks. The remnant of thick grass, quite
yellow and brown now, is almost knee high. We amble along chatting and in
high spirits. With the grass brushing against our legs, Marty is leading
about two paces in front of me. Suddenly he stops dead, swings around and
screams at me "Get back!" His sudden outburst startles me and I
freeze. Half a pace ahead of me I see the head of a large snake rise from
the grass and rear backwards. It strikes at me. At the same time I see
Marty's boot flash towards my leg in an attempt to kick the snake
away. Marty's timing is a little off. His boot passes between me and the
snake. It seems to strike multiple times and its head latches on to his
leg, only just above his boot. He shrieks in pain. Then the snake releases
its grasp and quickly disappears into the grass. "I should have known!"
Marty cries out, as he grasps his leg. "That was a dangerous one, Tom. I
don't know if I can survive the venom from that one." He pulls up the leg
of his jeans and I see only two puncture marks, above his ankle and towards
his shin.

I tremble at the horror of his pronouncement, but also at his
quick-thinking and heroism. Then memories of my first aid training flash
into my head. I had hoped that I'd never need to use it. I literally rip
off my shirt and tie it as tightly as I can directly over the site of the
two puncture marks, as a constriction bandage. I also remove my belt and
apply it as a tourniquet below Marty's knee, although I'm not sure whether
this procedure is still `in favour' in medical circles. I use Marty's belt
in a similar manner around his leg, close to his groin. I grab my cell
phone and hit Sean's number. Thank God we had swapped numbers! He answers
on the second ring, "Ambulance, Sean speaking."

"Sean," I yell. "It's Tom Grant. Marty's been bitten by a huge brown
snake. We're on the track by the river. Hurry! Marty said it was a
dangerous one." The phone goes dead. I remove Marty's shirt and wind it
tightly around his leg to further constrict the flow of any blood. I grasp
his hand and tell him to lie as still as possible because muscle movement
will assist the progress of the poison through the lymphatic fluid. It
takes all of my resolve to remain calm. At the same time I can hear a
siren. Then I see an ambulance speeding towards us. Marty is in agony and
starting to mumble incoherently. The ambulance skids to a halt next to us,
and Sean jumps out.

"Do you know what it was?" I apologise multiple times for my ignorance and
just tell him that it was big and brown and long. "Shit," he calls
out. "OK. Let's assume worst-case scenario. Taipan." I don't know exactly
what the consequence of that means, but I can tell from the silent tears
that begin running down Sean's cheeks that it's not good. He produces a
hypodermic needle and pumps something into Marty. A police car pulls up and
Chad runs to help.

Sean grabs the stretcher from the back of the ambulance While Chad cradles
Marty's head and sobs, "Stay with us brother. Hang in there." They put
Marty onto the wheeled stretcher and load him into the ambulance. Chad
tells me to ride in the back with Marty and he'll meet us at the
hospital. He slams the ambulance doors shut and Sean takes off, spinning
the wheels as he starts. He uses his two-way radio to the hospital and
arranges for staff to meet us and for them to prepare a couple of shots of
anti-venom with a long medical name that I can't possibly repeat and that
he's already administered one dose.

Fortunately the ride to the town hospital takes less than two minutes and
staff members are waiting at the ambulance bay. They remove the stretcher
and whisk him inside.

Sean comes to me, tears in his eyes and hugs me. "Thanks, Tom. He's lucky
that you were there. Great job with the shirts and belts. That's given him
a fighting chance, but it doesn't look good. He was already semi-comatose
when they took him in." He dashes inside, leaving me standing by the
ambulance, fighting back tears.

Chad pulls up in the police car, jumps out and rushes over to me and grasps
my shoulders. "How is he, Tom?"

"Sean said he was in a semi-coma, and I heard him mention `Taipan'. Is that
bad?"

Chad cries, "Oh, God. Not that. I hope not!" He covers his mouth with his
hand, inhales quickly a couple of times then manages, "Wait for me in the
police car, Tom. I'll be back." Then he, too, disappears into the hospital
through the ambulance bay doors.

I sit for almost an hour in the front seat of Chad's police car, crying,
sweating and awaiting news of Marty, my confidante and friend. It's
difficult to think of anything else because my thoughts keep returning to
the possibility of life without him. Chad finally returns and slides into
the driver's seat. Without me speaking, he answers my unasked
question. "The staff have stabilised his condition. He's in a coma, on life
support... but he's still alive. It's a positive sign, but the next 48
hours will be critical. It could still go either way. This isn't the first
time that he's been bitten by a snake, but nothing this bad. Maybe, and
hopefully, he has built up some sort of natural immunity over the
years. I've tried to contact Mum, but the phone reception out there is bad
at the best of times, non-existent most of the time."

I reply, "I can drive straight back to your Mum's place and let them know."

Chad drops me back where the SUV is parked and hands me Marty's set of
keys. He says, "Tom, please tell Mum that Sean and I will come out
tomorrow. Hopefully, by then we will have some news. There's nothing we can
do in the meantime, except wait... and pray." The drive home seems longer
than on the way in, as I keep thinking of what words to say to Mum and Anna
and to Will, and to reflect on the fact that Marty has saved my life, quite
possibly at the expense of his own. I feel very guilty, and become very
emotional, with regular overflowing of tears blurring my vision and
prayers.

I pull up the SUV outside Mum's front door. I sit. Still thinking. Mum
comes out and peers into the car. She focuses on me and, moving her head
from side to side as if seeking a better view, looks for Marty. Then she
calls Anna. Anna comes out onto the verandah, and gives me a questioning
look. I get out and walk towards them, only now realising that I am
shirtless. Anna steps off the verandah and comes to me. "What's up, Tom?"
She asks, and then the obvious, "Where's Marty?" It's evident that neither
Sean nor Chad has been able to make contact.

I somehow manage to get the words out, "He's in hospital... snake
bite... he's in a coma... on life support."

Anna throws her arms around me and starts to cry, then stammers, "What
happened?" That's when I lose it - completely. I suffer a total outpouring
of guilt and grief, for Marty and for them. I can't help but feel that it's
my fault. If I hadn't gone into town with him to `check it out', this would
never have happened. I should have been at the school preparing lessons and
maybe enjoying a visit from the twins and Will. I think, `Is this God's
vengeance for me overstepping the mark with Will and having more sinful
thoughts about the twins?'

Mum comes down off the verandah, attempting to dry her eyes with her
apron. She, too, hugs me and says, "Tom, dear, come inside, sit down and
have a cup of tea."

I don't know what's in the tea, or whether it's just the action of
swallowing, but I feel better able to talk about things, which helps. I am
able to recount the whole morning, being `set up' by Marty and Chad, and
meeting Sean and a host of Marty's friends. I tell them about the walk
along the river, the encounter with the snake and Marty's hospitalisation,
followed by Sean's report. I remember to tell Mum that Sean and Chad will
come out tomorrow with an update on Marty's condition. I think to myself,
`I hope I don't see them any earlier - that would only mean bad news!'

I feel better for having spoken with Anna and Mum, who both are a calming
influence on me. They are the encouragement to me that I feel I should be
to them. I tell them that I'd like to go home and have a shower and
rest. Mum hugs me, and kisses me, mother-like, telling me, "It's OK. He's
strong. It's more likely that the snake will die instead of Marty." Her
humour is refreshing in the circumstances. Anna gives me a hug and a kiss
as well, inviting Will and me back for dinner, later. In different
circumstances, I might have allowed myself to enjoy her lingering embrace.

It takes me at least ten minutes to drive Marty's SUV slowly back to his
place and I park it around the back under cover. I take the groceries
through the back door and into the kitchen, half expecting Will to be
there. For once, I'm glad that he isn't. Having stowed everything in its
rightful place I go to my room, strip off and head for the shower. I make
short work of a refreshing few minutes, allowing the tepid water to run
through my hair and down my face and body. I dry off and head back to my
bed, stretch out naked, pull the sheet over me and fall into a deep,
stress-induced sleep.

It's only the sound of the barking dogs that wakes me. Thinking
instinctively, 'Marty's home,' my head recovers and recalls, with much
anxiety, the events of the morning.

"Hello?" Will calls chirpily, and strides noisily through the house and
into our bedroom. I open my eyes and manage to focus on his face, which is
absolutely beaming. I can tell that his time with Karl and Kurt has been a
lot of fun. "Are you OK, Tom?" he asks. "You look awful. Where's Marty?"

I sit up, swivel my legs around towards the floor and say, "Will, come and
sit down." The seriousness of my voice erases the smile from his face and
it is replaced by a wrinkled brow and an inquiring look. He sits next to me
and puts his arm across the back of my shoulders, just as I have done
previously to him. His comforting touch sends another wave of emotion
through me. My head drops into my hands and I feel a flood of tears
escaping and running through my fingers.

"Tom? What's wrong?" he asks tenderly, as if speaking to a young child.

"Will, how can I say this? Marty didn't come back from town with me. He's
still there. In hospital. In a coma. On life support. He may die." I take a
couple of very deep breaths and desperately attempt to summon a measure of
stoicism so that I can explain to Will what has happened. Unable to speak
at the moment, I turn and hug him. He is silent and, bringing his other arm
across my body, hugs me to him. Gradually I find the breath to give him a
short version of what happened. He is still silent, but begins to rub my
back; my tears abate and my voice gathers strength.

Without emotion, Will stands, pulling me up with him. I ignore the falling
sheet and my fully-relaxed nakedness. Will ignores it too. "Come on," he
says, "I'll make us both a cup of coffee."

Dinner time with Mum, Anna and Will is a tense hour. I go over the details,
express regrets and say `if only...' once too many times, incurring a mild
reprimand from Mum. Nobody raises the question of `What if Marty dies?'
although I'm sure that it is on their minds as heavily as it is on
mine. Will is the one who suggests that we all need to get some
sleep. Nobody puts up any resistance. We say our `good nights' and I let
Will drive back to Marty's.

Will has a shower and climbs into bed, still wearing underwear, following
my lead. He says that he has a lot to tell me about his fun with Karl and
Kurt, but that it can wait. He really hasn't displayed any obvious emotion
about Marty, which concerns me. I thought that he would be the one who
would break down and I would be comforting him, instead of the other way
round. We both fall asleep - at least I presume he does, because my `lights
go out' rather quickly.

At some time in the middle of the night, or the early hours of the morning
I have to get up to pee. As I finish, I hear the dogs barking. I go to the
front door, peer into the moon-softened darkness and discern that it's a
police car that is pulling up. My heart begins to pound rapidly and
heavily. My eyes fill, then overflow.


To be continued...

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