Date: Sat, 02 Oct 2004 22:38:35 +0800
From: James MacMannis <james_macmannis@hotmail.com>
Subject: aboriginal-farmboy-02

Author: James MacMannis <james_macmannis@hotmail.com>
Subject: aboriginal-farmboy-02 (adult-youth, interracial, rural)
Archive; 'Aboriginal Farmboy #2'{James MacMannis}(BB, interr, rural)[]
Homosexual, young male sex
Adult-youth
Interracial
Rural setting


ABORIGINAL FARMBOY - PART TWO

Copyright (c) 2004 by James MacMannis
This document may be downloaded for your personal pleasure; however, you may
not place the document on a website or reproduce the story for distribution
in any media whatsoever without my permission.  Please email me at
james_macmannis@hotmail.com with constructive comments or criticism.


On the way home from dropping Chris off at his place, I stopped in at the
local cafe and bought fish and chips for dinner.  I fully expected to be up
half the night wanking myself silly at the thought of the experience I had
just had with Chris, but, by time I returned home and had finished eating, I
was comfortably tired so I went straight to bed and slept soundly the whole
night.

The morning was very still, cold and clear.  The sun was not yet up, but
there was enough daylight to see a thick frost covered everything, turning
the countryside glistening white.  I slipped naked from my bed and found a
coat to pull on against the chilly morning.  After relieving a full bladder,
I trudged to the kitchen and put the water on to boil for coffee.  That
done, I stoked up the fire in the sunroom so it would begin warming the
house again.  I do not have central heating in my house and depend entirely
on the efficiency of the wood fire in the sunroom and another in my dining /
lounge room.  There is a lot of fallen timber in the bush around my farm, so
it is not a hardship to cut wood for the fires and store it each winter.

Once the water was ready I made a pot of coffee and sat by the fire in the
sunroom to enjoy it and my first cigarette of the day.  My thoughts soon
returned to the enjoyable experience I had with Chris the previous
afternoon.  Spontaneously my penis sprung to attention and I was tempted to
give myself some much-needed relief.  I thought, however, that it would not
be long before Chris would be back again and maybe we could find some way of
helping each other with that, as well as other chores I had lined up for the
day.

Dawn was breaking by time I finished my coffee, so I returned to my bedroom
to put on some warm clothing in preparation for the day's work.  My
housekeeping routine was pretty simple as I didn't make much mess in my
living habits, so I pulled up my bed to tidy the room and went in to the
kitchen to make breakfast.  A couple of slices of toast is generally all I
bother to have, except sometimes on the weekend when I might cook up bacon
and eggs.

I was about to wash my dishes when I saw Chris and his young brother come
along the veranda.  I opened the door to them and they came inside.  "This
is my little brother, Nick," said Chris as he introduced the boy in a neat
school uniform shirt, trousers and jacket to me.  The younger brother was
barefoot as Chris was, and ice had rimed their toes.  "Connie is working at
the grain terminal in town during his mid-year break and he starts early.
He said he would drop us off at the end of your road on his way past, so I
thought it would be a good idea to come early.  Nick will be going off to
school soon, his school bus goes right past your place, so I hope you don't
mind that I brought him over."

"Not a problem at all.  In fact, I think that is a great idea and you are
very welcome here Nick," I said as I ushered the two boys into the sunroom.
Chris handed me a carton of eggs.  "I notice you don't have any chooks here,
so I bought these over if they are of any use to you."  I thanked him for
the eggs and asked how much the price was.  He said that these were a gift
and that he would not accept any payment for them.  The boys stood together
in front of the fire, warming themselves from the kilometre walk up the iced
driveway from the road.  "Hope we don't make a mess of your floor with our
wet feet," Chris asked.  I said that even if they did it could be no worse
that any mess I might make when I came in to the house.  They both agreed a
coffee would be a good idea, so I took the eggs to the kitchen and put the
coffee pot on again.

When it was ready, they were sufficiently warm and sat by the fire with me.
I offered Chris my tobacco.  "I still have the tobacco you gave me
yesterday, James," he said.  I told him that was for him to use at home and,
while he was working with me, I would provide him with his food and drink as
well as his tobacco, so he should put that packet away and use mine.  He
rolled a cigarette.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" I asked the boys.  Chris said that they all
got up very early each day so they could do any chores that needed more than
one pair of hands before the others left for their school or work.  They
usually ate breakfast a little before dawn, and they had indeed had
breakfast that day.  It was so remarkable having these two beautiful boys
sitting by my fire with me.  I couldn't get over how similar they looked,
except for those differences due to age variation.  Nick had not said much,
and I did not know if it was shyness of if he felt he might be unwelcome.  I
really wanted him to feel at home, so I asked him what year of school he was
in and what he was enjoying about his schooling.  "Second year high school,
Mister James, "he replied.  "I like mathematics the most, especially some of
the advanced logarithms and algebra stuff we do."  We talked a little about
how that sort of stuff was useful in the computing industry and in other
scientific applications.

"Well, tell me, how do you go to high school in bare feet.  I thought that
all the high schools had a footwear policy these days," I asked.  "Oh, I
wear shoes a lot of the time when I am at school.  I have no choice because
they wont let you attend if you don't.    My shoes are in my school bag and
I put them on just before we go in to class.  They come off again during my
lunch break and before I get on the bus to come home.  I hate having to wear
shoes, but that is how it is.  Except Fridays, of course, because that is
sports day.  I don't have to wear shoes on Friday."  Nick spoke very
efficiently, using his words clearly and precisely.  He had a musical voice
that had already matured through the puberty change.  "I don't play sports,
but I do like long distance running.  We have a great long distance team at
school and I am fairly good at the marathon events.  Some of us always run
barefoot, and we are usually the winning group."

We chatted till it was time for Nick to leave for his school bus.  The
outside temperature had climbed to just on freezing point as he walked back
down the drive to where the bus would collect him.  I had suggested to Nick
that he get off the bus at the nearest stop to my home after school, because
Chris would still be here and it would make it easier for Connie to collect
both of them at once.  Chris and I watched Nick leave a trail of footprints
in the ice as he walked towards the bus stop, then we went back into the
warm room.  Chris turned and gave me a hug.  "Thank you, James, for being so
welcoming of me and my family."  I didn't really know what to say in reply,
so just hugged him back.  I could feel Chris's hard penis pressing against
me, and my own responded.  How could this beautiful boy in such close
proximity to me not arouse me?

Chris felt my own stiffness and reached his hand down to grasp me through
the material of my trousers.  We continued hugging as he began to massage my
aching tool.  Today, Chris must have felt confident to take the matter into
his own hands, and very soon he had opened the fly of my trousers and taken
out my desperate organ.  He continued undressing me, and then took his own
clothes off.  Lying on the rug near the fireplace, Chris pulled me down on
top of him, our rigid penises making their own introductions as they met for
the first time.  We hugged and kissed deeply as our dicks began the ancient
practice of mashing together, as if they had a mind to become one united
organ.  My own sensory system was in overload, having this beautiful boy
engage in primal sex with me in this way.

The movement of our thrusting tools picked up a faster tempo.  Chris's youth
and agility transferred itself to my own much older body, and I found I was
as virile as a teenager again.  We both were now caught up in a frantic race
towards an inevitable explosion, an overpowering need to satisfy and be
satisfied at the one time.  I could feel my balls tightening as the juices
prepared for their release, and I could see in Chris's face that he was also
in the imperative stages of his sexual act.  "Chris, I am ready to come.
Are you going to come too?" I whispered to him.  "Yes," he panted, "I can't
hold on much longer, but I want us to do it together."

I deliberately slowed my pace, and Chris picked up the cue and did likewise.
  Our thrusting became long and purposeful as our two organs ground together
in perfect harmony.  Suddenly Chris arched his back, pushing his hips up
unto my groin and his penis firmly into my own as his orgasm hit him.  My
response was equally quick, and I prodded him with the full strength of my
tool.  The feeling of his live throbbing and thrusting penis as it shot load
after load of his sticky semen into my groin was fully matched by mine as I
shot into him.  We both held each other tightly, him still arched into my
groin and I still pushing down into his, until an eternity passed and our
orgasm subsided.  I collapsed on top of Chris.

"Oh, James," Chris wheezed.  "I can't understand what is happening with me.
I have never known the feelings that I seem to be able to reach when I am
with you.  I love this thing we are discovering together.  I love you,
James."  I continued to hold him as I rolled him to the side with me.  We
were now laying side by side, our wet penises still joined, still hard, and
still gently thrusting.  "I can only say that I felt a kind of love for you
the very moment I saw you last week.  It is something special for us, and it
does not happen often in a lifetime, but somehow we have been brought
together to love each other.  I feel most honoured to be in this bond with
you, Chris."

His eyes damp with unspent emotion, Chris held me tightly.  Already I could
feel his penis strongly thrusting into my now slippery groin, the
lubrication of our combined semen making the movement easy.  Semen was
leaking from the significant load we had discharged just moments ago, and I
could feel it collecting under our hips as we lay together on the carpet.
To my surprise, I felt my own penis pick up the urgency of Chris's and we
began again the tango of love.  The feeling was different this time.  We
both were thrusting at a much slower pace, enjoying the feeling of being
together, of the remarkable sensations that emanated from that stiff
appendage so full of nerve endings.  Chris, freer now that he was lying by
my side, plunged sometimes on the left and sometimes on the right of my
penis.  I enjoyed the feeling he created in my own dick, and in reasonably
short time we reached out climax, both shooting our second load of male
juice at each other.

I was amazed on two counts: firstly that I had been able to reach two
orgasms in so short a period of time; secondly that I did not feel in the
least drained by the intense experience.  My senses were on full overload,
every part of me alive and full of renewed energy that seemed to course from
the tips of my toes to my admittedly receding hairline.  I felt I could run
up Mount Everest!  Chris looked deeply into my eyes and I could feel the
moment when he, too, sensed that something remarkable had happened between
us.  Not a mere physical act, not a simple animal release, but a binding of
the heart, a fusion of the soul, a great and mighty act of love had been
forged in the heat of our bodies and tempered with the quench of our joined
sperm.

We both seemed somehow aware that the wrong word, the wrong gesture, maybe
even the wrong thought or breath, could shatter this fragile and beautiful
thing that had formed about us.  It was as though our hearts stopped beating
and our lungs their panting.  It was as though the whole world stood still
in silent reverence of this occurrence.  Slowly, ever so slowly, we began to
move our smeared bodies apart.  Our lower parts were joined in a sticky
mess, Chris's dark erect penis adhered to my lighter deflating one, and it
would have seemed somewhat comical for a bystander to watch our clumsiness
in trying to regain some order.

Without a word, I took Chris by the hand and led him in to my bathroom.  I
ran the hot water till it was comfortable and gently pulled him in with me.
Together we embraced as the water cascaded over our flushed nakedness.  I
took shampoo and massaged it into Chris's long hair, thrilling at the joy of
this simple ablution.  Soaping my hands I washed his face, rubbing the skin
gently as I traced the outline of his forehead, eyes and nose, the sculpture
of his ears and the firmness of his neck.  When I had finished, he let the
water rinse the soap off and then opened his eyes.  His lips found mine and
we held on to each other in absolute awe of each other and the glow of love
that was tangible between us.

Chris washed my hair and face as I had done his, then extended the region of
our ablution by washing my arms and chest.  He mapped out every muscle and
sinew as his long fingers trawled through my covering of chest hairs and
began an irresistible journey that would end near my nipples.  As a boy, I
had somehow aggravated my nipples, causing them to be very sensitive.
Living near the beach, I spent many hours on a surfboard, often lying full
length on the plastic surface.  This somehow caused an irritation, leading
to a condition where I have never been able to bear anyone touching me on my
breast and nipple region.  I feared that I would have to brush Chris's hands
away, but somehow he sensed my apprehension.  Maybe I flinched, but I don't
recall doing so.  Instead of touching them with his hands, he softly kissed
me on each nipple and returned his hands to my back to embrace me in a tight
hug.  His still hard penis rested against my thigh.

Washing Chris's arms and chest did not present a problem to him.  I began at
his breast, and felt the hardness of his nipples as I soaped him, trailing
the washing process out and down his arms.  Taking each hand I washed them,
with the hot water tumbling over us, I raised his hands to my mouth and
gently sucked his long fingers one by one.  I could smell the burnt tobacco
on his index and second fingers where he usually held his cigarette.

Leaving his hands, I knelt down to wash his feet.  At eye level was that
glorious penis, standing determinedly out from his body.  I leant forward
and kissed him on the head of that staff, feeling him twitch at the brief
contact.  When I knelt I had placed one foot behind me while the other foot
was on the shower base, so that I had myself resting on one knee and the
other elevated.  I lifted Chris's right foot, feeling the toughness in his
leathery sole, and placed it on my knee.  His foot was so beautifully
proportioned, broad and long.  I washed his foot carefully, revelling in the
feel of the durable skin and smooth heels.  Changing feet, I repeated the
process then worked my way up his legs till I reached that remarkable zenith
of his body.  Still ignoring his rampant tool, I soaped up again and reached
behind him to wash the globes of his buttocks and into the deep crevasse
leading to his anal canal.  By this time his penis was directly in front of
my face and I could not ignore it any longer.  My tongue found the opening
of his foreskin and I pressed it inside so that I could move about between
his foreskin and the glans.  Chris writhed uncontrollably as I tongued the
frenulum, sending myriads of sensory signals to his brain and throughout his
body.

Chris had placed his hands on my shoulders and now was gently pulling me
towards him as his sexual need grew once again.  I could taste the watery
pre-cum on my tongue and knew it would not be long before Chris would give
me of his manly nectar.  I craved to taste it and began working his tool,
clasping it with my lips as I began to suck him deeply into my mouth.  In
truth I wanted him to go deeper into my throat, but it had been many years
since the last time I enjoyed the entry of a lovers penis, so I knew I would
have to practice the art of deep-throating again before I could give Chris,
and myself, that pleasure.

Urgently, Chris said, "James, I am going to come again very soon.  Maybe I
had better not stay in your mouth."  I wanted him so much, to feel the
pulsing of his spurting penis on my tongue, to drink his juices into my own
body.  Instead of answering him, I simply kept my hands where they had been,
on his bottom, and gently pulled him tighter into my mouth.  I had been
feeling the contractions of his muscles as the effects of my ministrations
took over his organ, and now, with me clasping him more fully, the clenching
of his buttocks took on a new strength.  Chris did not force himself into me
at all, allowing me to do the work and to adjust to his bulk.  I enjoyed
every second of the task before me, revelling in the strength of this man,
desiring every moment of his presence, loving his very being with every part
of me.

Slowly I was able to adapt to more of the length of Chris's penis until I
had about three quarters of him inside me.  The head was nudging my throat
and, in one neat movement, I pulled him out far enough to ease the foreskin
back from his head with my lips, then I pulled him fully back into the
waiting deepness of my mouth.  Immediately I felt him swell inside my mouth
and I thought I would not be able to keep him there, but at that same
instant he exploded in a marvellous climax.  The first two ejaculations were
strong, sending a respectable amount of his semen directly into my aching
throat.  He pushed a little, sending two or three smaller streams into my
mouth.  I could now taste his juices as they overflowed into my mouth.  My
tongue revelled in the rich taste, the saltiness was mild, the milkiness
fine and the overall sensation so remarkably fulfilling to me.  I buried him
deeply into my throat as he pumped a few more diminishing loads.

Chris collapsed from the impact of his orgasm, his rod pulling all too
quickly from my mouth.  I grabbed him as he buckled so that he would not be
hurt by the fall, not an easy thing to do when you are on your knee!
Somehow I did control his fall and he came to rest beside me as I, too, sat
on the shower floor.  I sorted out his arms and legs so he would be more
comfortable, and reached down and pulled his foreskin back over the exposed
head of his penis.  He nuzzled close to me.

We lay together in the shower for a while.  It seemed like hours, but in
reality it was only minutes.  Slowly Chris regained his full composure and
lifted his head to kiss me.  Softly his tongue found mine and toyed with it
as we made our final passionate fusion.

I helped Chris to his feet as I stood and we pressed together, his now
deflating penis still firm against my own.  I shut the water off and we
dried each other before moving out to the still warm sunroom.  Throwing some
logs on to the fire I asked Chris to make a pot of coffee.  We sat naked
together, still in fragile silence as we drank our coffee and smoked our
cigarettes.

"Chris," I began hesitantly, "Something very special has happened to me this
morning.  I am afraid to put it in to words because I do not know how you
will accept them.  Nor do I really know just how deeply this experience has
touched you.  But I do have to say that in my heart is a feeling that has
not been there before, a new kind of emotion that I do not know how to
describe.  All I can do is use some familiar words to describe something
that is so profound.  Chris, with all my heart I know that I love you.  Not
your body, although I obviously love that very much, but the you that is
you."  I nervously ran out of words to continue this outpouring of my heart.
  Not quite knowing what to do, I stood and walked to the windows
overlooking the valley and my farm.

His feet were quiet on the polished timber floor, so I had not heard him
come up to me.  "James," Chris said as he slipped his arms around me from
behind, "I don't know how to say things as cleverly as you can.  I am not a
highly educated person, so I have to use simple sorts of words.  I do very
much understand what you just said to me.  I do even more understand what
you mean about this special thing that is between us.  I don't know what it
is or what to call it, but I have to use that word 'love' also.  When I came
here yesterday and you touched me for the first time I let you do it because
I already was deeply in love with you.  What we did today was something much
more, it was like a waterfall for me - I don't know how else to say it -
just like something that had to pour out into our hearts.  James, I love you
too."

I held his hands as they embraced my chest and it was then I could feel that
Chris was sobbing.  I turned to him and lifted his face to mine.  "James, I
do love you," Chris managed to stammer.  "I loved my father very much, and I
love both my brothers.  Yet the love I feel for you is something new and
wonderful for me.  I don't love them any less, but I seem to have discovered
a new kind of joy and happiness in my heart.  I just do not know how I can
say it or express it.  Maybe you think that it is some sexual thing, but I
want you to know that I have never had any kind of experience like this
before.  I will tell you more about my sex life some other time, but I just
want you to know that the things we have done are something new and very,
very important to me."

We went back to our chairs by the fire and I poured another coffee.  I said
"Perhaps we should be careful about this new aspect of our lives.  I do not
want to abuse my love for you and confuse it with lust.  I want this to be
something we treasure, something precious and valuable, something of honour
and respect and dignity between us."  Chris nodded sagely as he lit a fresh
cigarette.

"When we have finished our coffees I suggest we had better get some work
done.  I note that the forecast is for more storms tonight, and the sky is
already getting blacker.  There are a few things we need to get sorted out
before the bad weather comes in.  Okay with you?"  "Sure, boss," Chris said
cheekily.

It was a cold, wet day.  When we were ready to go out we put on raincoats to
keep some of the dampness off our clothes.  Chris rolled his trouser legs up
a few turns so they would not get as wet.  We were both barefoot and the ice
crackled under our feet as we made our way towards a large dam on the creek
that runs through my property.  It was important to check the pumps were not
getting flooded, because my irrigation system depended on the pumps in the
summer months.  Everything seemed to be fine when we did our check, so I
took a few minutes to explain how the irrigation system worked.  Chris was
quite interested in it and asked a lot of questions; obviously he could see
uses for an irrigation process in his vegetable farm.

I asked, "How do you water your plants in the dry season?"  Chris told me
that they had a large tank on a stand that gave them a certain amount of
water for their vegetables.  When it ran dry they purchased water to fill it
again.  It was not usually enough for a full season, particularly since it
seemed the summers were longer and the winters dryer than in the past.
"Lots of people are saying we could be in for a real change in the climate
if this cycle keeps going on," Chris expounded.

It was ironical that we should be discussing the dry summer when we were in
the middle of the wettest part of winter, but the subject was brought on
from an inspection of my own irrigation system.  I wondered if it might not
be possible to do something for the boys.  Maybe there was a suitable place
to build a dam on their farm and to equip it with pumping and piping?  I
would have to make time to go and see in the next month or so.

We continued on with work out in the fields.  Fallen branches or other
debris is forever blocking drainage ditches, so we worked our way along
several of the ditches to clear them out.  One thing that is very
detrimental to fruit and olive trees is collected water, so it is important
to keep the rainwater flowing on from the trees.  Of course, there is the
additional advantage of collecting rainwater when it is plentiful, because
it is recycled to the trees later in the year when there is no rainfall.  By
about 1 o'clock it was getting so difficult to work outside because of the
constant heavy rain that I decided we could do with a lunch break while I
reconsidered the afternoon work.

Leaving out dripping outer coats on hooks outside, we went in to the house.
Coffee was the first priority and then I made some sandwiches for our meal.
We sat together in the sunroom where it was warmest.  I had put the radio on
when we came in so we could hear the weather forecast.  Eventually the
announcer gave us the news that an extensive frontal system was sweeping in
from the Antarctic Ocean and would be bringing severe weather to our part of
the country for the next 24 hours or more.  They announced that schools
would be closing early and that parents could expect their children home
before the regular time.  Roads were likely to be flooded late in the
afternoon and people were advised to stay at home unless they really had to
travel.

"Well, that puts paid to the work for today," I explained.  "We will have to
tie some loose stuff up near the top shed, but that is about all we can do.
All the machinery is away and we have done the best we can on the drainage.
I guess Nick will be coming home fairly soon, so we might wait for him and
then go out to do the last few jobs together."  Chris and I ate our
sandwiches in companionable silence, the steady rain being an incessant
backdrop noise.

The food eaten, Chris came across and sat beside me.  "Would you like some
more coffee, James?" he asked.  I agreed, so he went to put the water on.
Shortly he returned with a steaming pot and poured out drinks for us.
Sitting down beside me again, Chris rolled a cigarette and lit it, then put
it to my lips so I could draw on it, letting me smoke while he kept hold of
the cigarette between his fingers.  He also smoked from the cigarette, and
in this alternate fashion we enjoyed the freshly rolled tobacco.  I found
the situation particularly enjoyable, because it was another thing we could
share and enjoy together.  Having Chris feed me the cigarette was a
remarkable pleasure and I was feeling very turned on by his actions.  I
glanced down at his lap and saw that his trousers were definitely tented out
where his erection was pushing at the cloth.

Chris took the last draw on the cigarette before butting it out and, before
he exhaled the smoke, he leant over and kissed me.  Opening my lips to
accept his tongue, he gently blew the smoke into my mouth.  I inhaled his
spent smoke as we continued to kiss deeply.  The effect was so heady that I
felt like I was on some drug or another, almost like that unworldly feeling
of anaesthetic when you are going to have an operation.  A sudden rap on the
door broke the spell of the moment and I went to see who was there.

A wet and miserable looking Nick stood at the door, his clothes and bag
saturated from the pouring rain he had run through in the distance from the
bus stop to the house.  I quickly hustled him inside so he could warm up by
the fire.  Chris got up from the chair we had been sitting in and helped his
brother, unaware, or perhaps uncaring that his hard penis was quite visible.
  "Nick, I have some dry clothes you can put on.  My nephew occasionally
stays here in his school holidays and has left some clothing in one of the
rooms.  Let me see what I can find."  I went off to get clothing after
asking Chris to pick up a towel from the linen cupboard.  When I returned to
the room I found that Nick was already peeling off his wet shirt, his jacket
already on a drying rack near the fire.  Chris took his shirt and told him
to get his trousers off also.  Nick hesitated, glancing in my direction, and
Chris said, "James is okay.  He will not mind you with no clothes on.  Just
hurry up and get on with it before you get yourself a dose of the flu."

Nick undid his belt and trousers then stepped out of them.  Like Chris, he
did not wear underpants.  He was well equipped for a young boy, his body
much more conditioned than Chris - probably because of his running training
- and his penis almost identically the same in shape, size and colour as his
brother.  I had not intended to take all this in, I am not interested in
young boys, but this lad was so unconcerned by his nakedness and certainly
had much to be proud of.  Besides, he was a well-developed young boy, well
past his puberty years, so I did not consider him to be in the category of a
child.  Nick towelled himself dry, taking what seemed an extra long time to
dry his hair and giving me a much longer than expected time to examine
further the beautiful sheathed penis and ball sac that hung between his
legs.

I handed Nick the clothes I had collected and he pulled on a warm shirt and
faded jeans.  My nephew did not wear underpants either, so I had none to
offer Nick.  It was just as well he did not use them.  Like his brother,
Nick rolled up the legs of his jeans a few turns so that they would not get
wet in the rain.  I asked if he had eaten and Nick assured me he had.  He
agreed to a coffee; so once more the coffee pot was put on to make a fresh
brew.  My coffee bill was going to be astronomical with these boys around!

We sat in the sunroom as the rain increased its deluge, sipping at our
coffee.  Chris and I rolled cigarettes and I must have shown my surprise
when Chris offered the pack to Nick, who also rolled a cigarette.  "Dad sort
of encouraged us to smoke from when we were very young," Chris told me.
"Well, he didn't really make us smoke, but he never stopped us either.  The
three of us smoke, but when we have a bad year like this one, of course we
don't smoke so much.  You have no idea just how great it was for us to be
able to have a couple of cigarettes last night from the tobacco you gave me
yesterday.  We were all hanging out for a smoke."

Coffee and cigarettes finished, I explained to Nick that we had a few little
jobs to do up at the top shed and would like his help.  "Sure thing, Mister
James.  I like working outside and I really want to help you out because you
have been so good to us boys, especially to Chris."  "Hey," I said, "Just
call me James.  I know that I am old enough to be you father, but I hope you
can think of me more as a friend than anything else.  Please call me James."
  Nick, being forever the academic, thought for a moment before replying.
"No, sir, I don't think I could do that.  I am sorry, but I respect you too
much and my Dad always told me to show due respect for good people,
especially when they are older than you are.  I am sorry, but I will have to
call you Mister James or Mister MacMannis until I am older.  Please
understand that I do respect you very highly and, because Chris trusts you,
so do I.  You are my friend, but you are much more than that."

It was my turn to feel emotional now.  I had never had a person express
thoughts like this to me before.  That is one lonely thing about being a
single person who has never had his own children.  My nephew and I are very
close and we have great times together, but he has never uttered a single
sentiment on a par with that which Nick had just expressed.  I felt deeply
moved.  "Thank you, Nick.  I hope that I can live up to your ideal and
expectation of me."  I offered him my hand and we shook solemnly.

"Come on, you two."  Chris was at the door, keen to get the last jobs done
before the worst of the weather came in.  We went out, pulling on our
raincoats, including Nick who grabbed a spare that was on a hook.  The
temperature had dropped considerably outside and I shivered in the chilly
wind.  It was not far to the top shed, so named because it was further
uphill than the house, and our muddy feet soon encountered the concrete
floor of the shed and we shook off the worst of the rain.  There were some
drums and a bit of equipment that I wanted to secure against high winds.
Also, a tank was empty and I wanted to put some water in it so it would not
blow away if a gale came up during the night.  I ran the transfer pump up as
the boys put other bits and pieces out of the weather.  The water reached
the level I wanted in the tank and I closed down the pump.  By this time the
two brothers had done everything else.  They were quite wet, and I could see
that I would have to find some more clothing when we got back to the house.
The very last job was to put some hay out for the horses, so we each
gathered up a bundle of hay and threw it into the horse paddock where they
were waiting.  From there was a downhill trek to the house over rough rocky
ground.  I proudly took note that Nick was obviously as strong footed as
Chris, because he walked over the sharp ground without noticing it at all.

When we got back to the house we went straight inside.  I was immediately
drawn to the phone, which had just started ringing.