Date: Sun, 7 Mar 2010 03:42:34 -0800 (PST)
From: Wombat <bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: 'The Old Valley Road Hotel #60' {Wombat} ( MM SciFi Anal Size Musc Biker ) [ 60 ! ?? ]

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The Old Valley Road Hotel.

By Wombat.
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Any constructive comments are appreciated.
I'm at 'bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au'.
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Chapter 6 Part 5: Christmas Day.

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Part 60: Two Old Ladies.
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Back on Earth again, all three jumped into the swimming pool and
washed off the Martian dust as well as the sweat and semen.

They swam around underwater.  Pan playfully bunted Scott in the
stomach with his horns.  Scott grabbed Pan by the horns.  But then Pan
applied a force field to his horns.  The field expanded in Scott's
grip and Pan was easily able to slide his horns out of Scott's grasp.
Scott flew underwater to try and grab Pan.  However, Pan made the pool
water go all milky and put up a telepathic shield that prevented Scott
from detecting him.

Scott flew around the pool but Pan eluded the big young man easily.
Scott bumped up against Derek and held him firmly.  Derek twisted
around in Scott's arms and planted a luscious kiss on his lips.

Scott held him tight and returned the kiss passionately.  They writhed
around together in each other's grasp with rising ardour.  Derek
wrapped his legs around Scott's waist and positioned his anus against
the head of Scott's stiff hard cock.  He relaxed his arsehole and with
a few thrusts, Scott slid the whole length of his cock up Derek's
force-field lubricated arse.  Derek revelled in feeling Scott's cock
ramming up to the hilt up into his torso.  He kissed Scott fervently
as Scott continued thrusting his cock up Derek's arse.

Pan cleared the water in the pool.  Watching the two powerfully
muscled human males fucking got him highly aroused.  His penis
stiffened rapidly.  He transformed it into a smooth human-style cock
and came up behind Scott.  He set up a force field around it that made
it deliciously well lubricated.  He grasped Scott around his slim hard
muscular waist and positioned his rampant penis against Scott's anus.
Scott relaxed his arsehole and with a few fervent thrusts, Pan rammed
his cock home up Scott's arse into the depths of his torso.

They synchronised their thrusts and enjoyed each other's bodies
tremendously.  Scott delighted in being the meat in a fuck sandwich.
It was not long before all three exploded into orgasm simultaneously.
A cloud of semen gushed from Derek's penis out into the water.
Derek's mouth was wide open in a soundless scream.  Scott grasped
Derek hard as he revelled in shooting his load into the depths of
Derek's bowels.  He revelled in feeling Pan fill his bowels with the
ancient god's semen.

It was a quick and joyous fuck for all three of them.  The combined
orgasm finished.  They hung together underwater in the pool relishing
the feel of each other's bodies.

Afterwards they trooped into the kitchen of the Reeves house.  Scott
commenced preparing Christmas dinner using as a guide the detailed
instructions left by his mother and grandmother.  Derek helped.

Scott had forgotten to defrost the leg of ham.  Derek showed him how
to thaw it.  Scott put his hands on either side of the ham and
directed energy into it, causing all the molecules to speed up their
vibrations and heat up.  The ham was defrosted in a couple of minutes.
Derek had done the same thing with the Christmas turkey earlier that
morning before the trip to Mars.

Scott unwrapped the plastic from around the Christmas pudding and put
the pudding in the oven to cook.

Scott had already invited Pan to join him and Derek for Christmas
dinner.  Pan had readily agreed.  He stood around and watched while
Scott and Derek got the meal ready.

Scott checked the turkey roasting in the oven.  It was still not ready
and would not be ready for some time.  Derek advised against beaming
extra heat energy into the cooking bird to speed up the cooking.  That
would make the meat tough unless one was very skilled and careful.

In the meantime, Scott decided to telephone his parents at Noosa in
Queensland and give them his Christmas greetings.  He checked his
parents telepathically and sensed that the time was right.  His father
and Uncle Henry were having quite a long conversation about the dream
that Max had had the previous night.  That conversation was drawing to
a close.  His mother was laughing and joking with her two other
brothers and their spouses.

Scott was naked.  He felt mighty and powerful.  His arsehole felt
deliciously well fucked.  All the holes caused by Pan's penetrations
earlier on Mars had healed fully.  There was no sign of any scars on
his body.  His magnificent and massively muscled tanned body was
unmarked.

When he was fucked by Pan on Mars, changes occurred in him.  He had
been transfigured again.  Information had been dumped into his brain.
He was no longer a teenage boy.  He was a powerful, puissant, potent
and very muscular male human god.

He strutted gracefully over to the kitchen phone with his huge muscles
bulging.  He dialled the number of Aunt Rosalind's house in Noosa.

Aunt Rosalind answered the phone after a few rings.

"Good morning," she said briskly.  "The Kinnear residence.  This is
the lady of the house speaking."

"Good morning, Aunt Rosalind.  Scott here.  Merry Christmas!  How are
you?"

Scott tuned into her mind telepathically.  He was determined to be
nice to her.  He sensed the instant of surprise.

"Good morning, Scottie," she replied.  "This is a surprise.  And Merry
Christmas.  Your voice is so much deeper.  I almost didn't recognise
you."

He laughed.  "Thank you.  How are you keeping?"

"I'm well, thank you.  We are all well here at this end.  Everyone's
settling in very well and we're all getting ready soon for Christmas
dinner.  How about you?"

"Excellent, thanks.  No disasters here at home and Christmas dinner is
coming along fine.  Thanks to Mum and Granny for all the detailed
instructions they left me."

"We've all been to church this morning.  Your grandfather and Father
Baines did an excellent service together.  The church was quite full.
A lot of people were there.  Did you go to church this morning?"

"No, I didn't," said Scott cheerfully.

"Oh, Scottie, you really should have," Aunt Rosalind said
reproachfully.  "One should celebrate the Birth of the Baby Lord Jesus
on Christmas Day.  Don't you think one should do so in the proper
manner by going to church?"

"'I worship the Lord from the temples of high mountains.
  I praise Him from the shores of the glittering seas.
  I worship the Lord from the cathedrals of forests...'"

"Are you on drugs?"  His aunt interrupted him.

"No, Aunt Rosalind, I'm not," said Scott curtly.  "May I please speak
to one of my parents."

Aunt Rosalind was somewhat taken aback by the change in Scott's tone.

"Very well, then," she said.  "I'll go and get your father.  He's been
deep in conversation with my brother Henry out on the balcony ever
since we got back from church.  They've been talking together quite
long enough."

"Bitch!" thought Scott as she put the phone down.  Pan and Derek
laughed.

A few minutes later Max Reeves picked up the phone.  He sounded
worried because Rosalind had told him that she thought Scott was on
drugs.

After the initial exchange of greetings, Scott asked his father
straight out whether Aunt Rosalind had told him that she thought Scott
was on drugs.  When Max said yes, Scott told him that he had quoted
from the English translation of a poem written by Saint Hedwig of
Marienfels.  Sister Hedwig of Marienfels had been canonised as a saint
the previous year by Pope John Paul II.  Hal Wray, whom Max had met in
the Lion and Unicorn Hotel in Ringtail Springs, had translated the
poems of Saint Hedwig from German many years ago.  Derek was Hal's
friend and knew the poems.  Scott's grandfather, the Reverend John
Houston, had often used the poems as texts for his sermons.  Max
chuckled when Scott told him.  He was going to tease Rosalind for not
paying attention to her father's sermons.  She clearly had not
recognised the quote from one of her father's favourite poems.  Scott
said to Max that he should give her hell.

After that, Max lightened up considerably.  They chatted and laughed
together.  Max was impressed how mature Scott sounded.  Scott's voice
had deepened noticeably and he did not speak like a teenager any more.
Something was happening to Scott but Max knew in his bones that it was
all good.  He was happy.

Scott told Max that Derek and a friend of his were joining him for
Christmas dinner.  Max said that was a good idea.

Then it was the turn of Veronica, Scott's mother.  Before she picked
up the phone, Max had a quick conversation with her and reassured her
that Scott was most definitely not on drugs and that everything was
all right.  He told her about the quote from a poem by Saint Hedwig
often used by Veronica's father as a sermon text.  Veronica laughed.
She was relieved.  She had been quite worried when her sister Rosalind
told her that Scott was on drugs.

Veronica chatted happily to her son left behind in Ringtail Springs.
She was glad everything was going well back home.  Scott thanked her
for the detailed instructions for preparing the Christmas dinner.  He
asked her to pass his thanks on to Granny Reeves as well.  Veronica
hoped that Scott wasn't making too much of a mess.  Scott said he'd
try and have everything tidied up by the time she got back home.  She
could hear the laughter in his voice.  He was taking the mickey out of
her.  She was quite amazed how like Max Scott sounded.  Max teased her
quite often and Scott sounded just the same.

She worried when Scott told her that he had invited Derek and a friend
for Christmas dinner.  Maybe there would not be enough food.  Scott
assured her that there was plenty to go around.  She and his
grandmother had cooked enough for an army.  Veronica protested that
she had no intention of feeding an army.  The food was to last him
until they all got back home.  Scott said with a laugh that there were
no worries on that score.  There really was lots of food, tons enough.

Veronica asked after Derek.  She liked him.  He was so gorgeous and
muscly.  She was curious about Derek's friend but Scott said she had
never met him before.  Both the friend and Scott were going to help
Derek do up the old hotel on Valley Road.  Veronica said that was a
good idea.  Scott could learn some useful skills.

As the discussions and conversations between mother and son continued,
the dinner gong sounded in the Kinnear house to announce the imminence
of Christmas dinner.  Veronica said her goodbyes and went to prepare
herself.

Derek opened up the oven of the AGA stove and announced that the
turkey was nearly ready.  He called up some fairies and pixies and
they all set up the dining table in minutes.

Scott remembered that he had his Christmas presents to open.  Derek
had removed them from the cupboard in the living room and thoughtfully
arranged them under the Christmas tree with all the lights switched
on.

Scott looked at Derek and asked if he had any Christmas presents.  He
shrugged.

Derek: << I don't need any more Christmas presents.  I've got you. >>

Scott hugged him.

Pan: << I've been around so long that I don't need Christmas presents.
Life's sweet. >>

Scott sat down with the others next to the Christmas tree and opened
his presents.  They had been left in the cupboard when the rest of the
family left for Queensland.  Scott had received strict instructions
not to open them before Christmas Day.

He received some books, assorted handkerchiefs, some CDs, some socks,
a couple of ties, some computer games, a body-building magazine, a
bright red muscle shirt, a rugby football autographed by the players
in the Rhinos rugby league team and a box of chocolates.

He smiled happily.  << Not a bad haul.  And it's been a great
Christmas, thanks to you two guys. >>

Somewhat to Scott's surprise, Christmas dinner turned out to be an
excellent meal.  All three enjoyed themselves very much.  The wines
that Derek had produced from the cellar of the old hotel were
excellent.  Scott leant back in his chair and burped loudly.

"I'm as full as a tick," he announced.

Pan: << You mean if you ate any more, your beautiful muscular belly
would bulge out just a little. >>

They laughed.

The Christmas pudding contained a number of the old fine silver coins,
as tradition demanded.  Scott's grandmother had made the pudding.

Each slice of pudding had at least one or two silver coins in it.
According to Scott's grandmother, tradition also demanded that the
coins be handed back and replaced by modern decimal currency.  The
modern cupronickel coins would have left a bitter metallic taint in
the pudding.  Derek and Pan decided just to hand the coins back to
Scott so he could return them to his grandmother.

Scott had three coins, a small silver threepenny piece, a silver
sixpence and shilling.  They were minted during the reign of Kings
George V and George VI.

Pan had two sixpences.  One was minted in the reign of King Edward
VII.

Derek scored the two-shilling piece.  He rasped the remnants of
Christmas pudding off with his tongue and examined it.

It was an Australian coin minted in 1922.  On the obverse was the head
of King George V.  Derek translated the Latin inscription surrounding
the king's image, "George the Fifth, by the Grace of God, King of All
Britons, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India."

He looked at the other two with twinkling eyes.  << This coin was
minted when I was in Durban fucking Albert.  That was when the British
Empire had reached its greatest extent.  It was at its zenith.
Britain was the most powerful nation on Earth.  The British Empire
girdled the planet. >>

In his mind he had an image of the battleship 'King George V' berthed
in Durban Harbour in 1922.  He looked at the coin again and remembered
something his grandfather Pascoe had told him: "His Majesty George the
Fifth, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland and the British
Dominions beyond the Seas, King, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of
India."

Pan looked at Scott.  In his mind formed the words "Emperor of Earth
and Her Dominions in Space".

Pan: << Scott, you could be that man. >>

Derek looked at Scott too.

Derek: << You could be too, if God chooses you for the job. >>

Scott shuddered.  The weight of responsibility seemed too much to
bear.  He was so young.

Derek smiled kindly.  << Don't worry, mate.  If that happens, we'll
all be there helping you.  You certainly won't be alone. >>

Pan: << I am thinking, Scott, that you have what it takes.  You have
the potential. >>

The front doorbell rang.

Scott: << Who could that be? >>

Derek reached out with his telepathic sense and perceived the minds of
Miss Lavinia Longbottom and Mrs Chrissie Watson.  They were two old
friends of Scott's grandmother.  He recognised them from the time
Scott had attended church with his family on the Sunday that Derek had
gone away with Hal to South Australia.  The two old ladies had sat the
other side of Scott's grandmother who was sitting next to Scott in the
pew.  He passed the information to Scott and Pan.

Lavinia Longbottom had been the librarian of the town library.  She
had retired and was now the curator of the town's museum.  She had
never married.

Chrissie Watson was a widow and a pensioner.  Her husband had died
many years before.

Both the ladies lived in Church Mews near Scott's grandmother.

Scott lifted an eyebrow.  He looked around at his companions at the
table with a wry smile.

Scott: << Those two old ladies have come round to visit me.  And none
of us have any clothes on.  We're all starkers.  Derek, those 'God's
Man' tattoos on your shoulders aren't going to go down well with those
two old dears at all. >>

He looked at Pan.  His smile became even wrier.  His teeth gleamed.

<< Those two old ducks are going to freak out completely when they see
you.  They're going to think we're supping with the Devil. >>

Pan: << Don't worry.  I shall transform myself into a decently clad
human form.  I've done it many times before.  And you two need to put
something on to cover your genitals.  I'm sure you can do it. >>

Derek magicked into existence a pair of blue speedo-style bathers on
himself.  He looked terribly sexy.  His tattoos faded from view.

Scott stood up.  He magicked into existence on himself a white cache-
sexe.  He had seen them on the Internet.  This cache-sexe was a pouch
made of synthetic material that held his genitals like a purse with a
piece of elastic around his cock and balls like a purse string.  It
was held in place with a white string around his waist.  There was
nothing between his legs.  His splendid muscular arse was naked.

Derek giggled.

<< That's going to tickle the old ladies' fancy.  I wonder what
they're going to think of that. >>

Scott smiled confidently.

Scott: << I don't particularly care. >>

Pan and Derek laughed.

The doorbell rang again.

Scott strode towards the front door.  His huge muscles bulged and
stretched as he walked.

Derek: << We'll see you in the living room.  It is a bit of a mess in
here. >>

Scott opened the front door.

The two old ladies on the front verandah stood speechless.  They
stared pop-eyed at the tanned, very muscular and very broad-
shouldered, almost naked young giant towering over them and filling
the front doorway.  They were gob-smacked by seeing his mighty arms,
shoulders, neck, torso and legs packed with huge hard chiselled
muscles.  Every muscle, vein and sinew stood out.  It was as if there
was no fat at all under his skin.

"Miss Longbottom, Mrs Watson, Merry Christmas," said Scott cheerfully.
"This is a surprise."

Lavinia Longbottom recovered herself first.  "Merry Christmas to you,
Scottie.  We didn't see you at church this morning so we'd thought
we'd better come and see how you are."

Scott laughed.  "Well, I'm certainly not lying unconscious on the back
lawn with a bottle of gin in my arms."

Lavinia smirked.  "No, obviously not."

"Merry Christmas, Scottie," said Chrissie Watson recovering herself.
"I must say, you have grown so very big.  Esme Wright and Roma Biggs
said how big and strong you've become.  They saw you in the
supermarket yesterday.  Jim Foreman too said he saw you last Friday
night.  He remarked how big and muscular you had grown.  But it is a
surprise seeing you like this.  You have got such big muscles.  I must
confess you've grown quite a bit bigger since I saw you last and it
wasn't all that long ago."

Her eyes went down to Scott's cache-sexe, which only just covered his
sizeable genitals.

Scott smiled.  "We've been in the pool.  We didn't bother getting
dressed for Christmas dinner."

"That swimming costume of yours doesn't leave much to the
imagination," remarked Chrissie.

Scott grinned.

"Was it a Christmas present?" asked Lavinia with a smirk.  "I wouldn't
be surprised if one of your sisters had given that to you given your
sisters' senses of humour."

"Or was it that uncle of yours?" asked Chrissie.

In Chrissie's mind Scott sensed that she was referring to Uncle Graham
Kinnear.  She considered him rather odd.  Perhaps he was a fitting
husband for that Rosalind Houston whom she did not like.  She thought
Rosalind was a snob.

Scott smiled.  "I'm not answering any questions like that and I'm
certainly not playing any guessing games.  Why don't you both come in?
It is hot out here."

Chrissie offered him a little parcel wrapped in a paper table napkin
with holly prints on it.

"Look," she said.  "This is some Christmas cake that we thought we'd
bring around for you.  I know it's not much for a big fellow like you
but..."

"Thank you," said Scott warmly.  "That's kind of you to think of me
like that.  Do come in."

"Have you got company?" asked Lavinia.

"I've got a couple of friends around here," replied Scott.  "But
that's all right.  We've just finished Christmas dinner."

The two old ladies followed Scott inside.

"It's certainly cooler in here than outside," remarked Chrissie.

Scott led the two ladies into the living room.  He saw that Pan had
already morphed into a tall, broad-shouldered, good-looking young man
with a muscular, athletic build, tanned skin and a hairy chest.  He
had curly dark brown hair and intelligent dark brown eyes.  He was as
tall as Scott was and he was wearing yellow board shorts.

Scott introduced Derek first.  The two old ladies were interested to
meet the young man who lived in the old service station next to the
Old Valley Road Hotel.  They thought he was very handsome and admired
his big muscles.

Scott received a telepathic cue card and introduced Pan as Sylvester
Panic.  The ladies were intrigued by this tall attractive young man.

"I suppose your surname is pronounced 'Pah-nich' in the old country
where you came from," said Lavinia.

"Something like that," replied Pan/Sylvester.  "I've given up long ago
trying to get Australians to pronounce it correctly.  Don't worry
about it."  He spoke in a deep mellifluous voice with an Australian
accent.

Chrissie remarked how Christmassy the living room looked with the
Christmas tree and all the Christmas decorations.  She said that she
had not seen the house with Christmas decorations for many years.

Everyone sat down in the living room as Derek disappeared into the
dining room.  He returned with a bottle of Para Liqueur Port of 1947
vintage from Seppelts Winery in the Barossa Valley in South Australia.
He pulled the cork out with a pop.

"We were going try some of this," he said to the ladies.  "Would you
like some too?  I found this in the cellar of the old hotel on Valley
Road."

"Oh yes please," replied Lavinia enthusiastically.

Chrissie assented as well.

"Dad would like some of that too," said Scott.

"Don't worry, mate," replied Derek.  "I've got one of the other
bottles put aside for him."

He poured a glass for each of them and handed them around.  They all
took a sip or two.

"Oh my!  This is a beautiful port," exclaimed Lavinia.

"Glad you like it," said Derek with a smile.

Scott opened up the little parcel of Christmas cake.

"Thank you," he said to the old ladies.  "I think we can share this
amongst the three of us."

"I'm sorry," said Chrissie.  "We weren't expecting you to have your
two friends here with you.  I baked it and we thought that since you
would be on your own here without your family, you might like some of
the cake.  We've all been having a lovely Christmas dinner down at
Church Mews.  It's a pity Mavis, your grandmother, isn't here to join
us.  I know she had to go up to Queensland with the family."

"No worries," replied Scott.

"It's all right, Scott," said Derek.  "I don't need anything more."

Sylvester smiled.

"Scottie, you weren't at church this morning," said Lavinia.  "You
missed all the excitement.  Do you know what happened?"

Scott shook his head.

Lavinia continued.  "You know that earth tremor we had this early
morning?  That great big marble plaque in memory of Doctor Seth
Forsythe on the wall in the church came crashing to the floor and
smashed into thousands of pieces.  In the hole left in the plaster on
the wall is a picture of Jesus Christ!  It is almost as if it had been
carved there under the plaque.  There He is, Jesus, The Redeemer of
the World, standing there with His arms outstretched saving us all.  I
tell you.  It's a miracle, a most marvellous miracle.  And it's
happened right here in St Aidan's Church in our dear little town.  We
saw it all with our own eyes this morning when we went into the church
for the Christmas Day service.  It is truly amazing."

Scott leant forward on the brown leather couch on which he sat.  "A
picture of Jesus Christ," he said.  "That is quite amazing."

"It's more like a stature," said Lavinia.  "It's like it's been carved
by a sculptor.  It's quite realistic.  It really is quite miraculous."

"I really don't know what is going on here," protested Chrissie.
"First there is that earthquake this morning which woke us all up and
now Mount Wattabang has this ruddy great big pink, er, er, thing..."

Scott interrupted with an easy smile.  "I think the word you're
looking for is 'phallus'."

"Oh yes, very well," huffed Chrissie.  "Anyway, this giant thing is
sticking right up out of the top of Mount Wattabang for all the world
to see.  I tell you, it makes you blush to look at it."

Derek resisted the temptation to giggle.

Chrissie went on.  "And then, there is this miraculous picture or
stature of Jesus Christ appearing in our church.  I really don't know
what to make of it all."

"Perhaps one is to counteract the other," opined Lavinia.  "Perhaps
there has to be a balance."

Derek said, "I think we live in interesting times."

"What do you mean?" asked Chrissie.

"Those things that happened today are likely to be signs that there
are big changes afoot.  These changes will happen, maybe to us all,"
replied Derek.  "Big things will happen to the human race.  We, the
human race, will face great challenges.  If we meet those challenges
successfully, we may become important participants in the future of
the Universe."

"Those are brave words, Derek," remarked Lavinia.

Sylvester clapped.

Chrissie shuddered.

Lavinia drank the remainder of the port in her glass.  Derek came over
and refilled it.  Lavinia admired his muscular grace as he knelt down
by the little side table to refill her glass.  He was so big and
strong and handsome.  He was indeed a beautiful specimen of manhood.

"Thank you, Derek," she said.  "It is a lovely port."

"It's a pleasure," said Derek.

He offered to top up Chrissie's glass but she refused.  "I'm driving,"
she said.

Scott remembered a recent incident when Chrissie Watson had had a
little bit too much to drink.  She was driving home in her car with
her friends when she knocked over a wheelie bin by the roadside with
her Nissan Bluebird.  He wondered how he could get Lavinia to say
something.  He telepathically linked up with Derek, who picked up the
thought and inserted it neatly into Lavinia's mind.

"Very sensible, my dear," said Lavinia with a smirk.  "You don't want
to knock over any more wheelie bins on the way home.  It would be a
trifle embarrassing."

"Humph!" said Chrissie.  She did not like being reminded.

She looked at Scott doubtfully.  "You know," she said, "that is an
extraordinarily brief bathing costume you've got on.  If you were in
my house, I'd be worried about your bare bottom on my furniture."

Scott raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly at Chrissie.  "My arsehole is
perfectly clean.  There's no need to worry about that, Mrs Watson."

Derek repressed the urge to lick his lips.

Chrissie coloured slightly with embarrassment.  "Oh well," she said.
"It's your house.  You can do what you like while your parents are
away."

"Oh, Chrissie, don't be like that," said Lavinia.  "It is Christmas."

Chrissie harrumphed.

She changed the subject.

"I think I've seen you before," she addressed Derek.  "The last time
was in the supermarket a few months ago.  I had been talking to
Veronica Reeves, I seem to remember.  Tell me, what do you do for a
living?"

"I make sculptures out of pieces of scrap iron," replied Derek.  He
laughed.  "Mind you, I haven't had much luck selling them."

"I see.  And you live up there on Valley Road on your own in the old
petrol station?"

"Yes."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes."

"It must be nice living up there amongst all the trees.  It is a bit
of wilderness."

"It is."

Chrissie addressed Pan/Sylvester.  "And tell me, what do you do?"

Sylvester smiled graciously.  "I'm into landscapes and living things.
I'm going to help Derek design a garden for the old hotel on Valley
Road."

"Are you a landscape gardener?"

"Well, sort of."

"I hear that the McBrides are looking for a landscape gardener for the
garden around their homestead.  I'm sure they'll pay you well."

"It's a large formal garden in the French style," put in Scott.

"Formal gardens aren't really my scene," said Sylvester.

"Oh well, never mind," said Chrissie.  "You could always give them a
try if you're looking for work."

"I'm quite busy enough.  I have plenty to keep me occupied."

"Well, that is a good thing."

There was a momentary pause.

Lavinia said: "Scottie, have you heard the story about town that your
grandmother Mavis Reeves is a granddaughter of Sam Rigby?  He was the
fellow who was cut open and murdered on the top of Mount Wattabang
last century, I mean the century before last.  That would make you his
great-great-grandson."

"I have heard the story," replied Scott.  "Have you come across
anything to throw any light on that?"

"There is a remarkable similarity between your brother Robbie and Sam
Rigby.  If you compare photographs of Robbie and Sam, you can see that
they look very much alike.  Archibald McBride, George McBride's great-
grandfather took lots of photographs of Sam Rigby before Sam died.
Your sisters Jackie and Katie took some nice photos of your brother.
Will you be a dear and get your latest family photo album and also
that book 'The Photographic Art of Archibald McBride'?  I know that
your parents have a copy."

"Sure.  I've seen the book."

Scott brought out the family album and laid it on the main coffee
table.  Lavinia went through it looking for the photographs of Robbie.

Meanwhile Scott looked through the bookshelf and found the art book
that Lavinia was referring to.  It was a big glossy coffee table book
written by Myrtle McBride and Lavinia Longbottom.  He held it up.

"Is this the one?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you.  It is," replied Lavinia.

"I didn't know you helped write it."

Lavinia pursed her lips.  "Yes, I did most of the work on that book."

"And Myrtle McBride took most of the credit," put in Chrissie.

Scott put the book on the coffee table next to the open photograph
album.  Lavinia went through it.  She found the sepia tinted
photographs of Sam Rigby and laid the photograph album next to the
open book.

"Well, Scottie, what do you think?" asked Lavinia.

Scott knelt down next to Lavinia and looked at the photographs she had
selected.  They were head and shoulders portraits of both his brother
Robbie and of Sam Rigby.  Both men had blond curly hair.  Their
shoulders were bare.  The big bright blue eyes of Robbie stood out.
The picture of Sam was sepia but it was clear that his eyes were of a
light colour.  Their faces were similar.  The prominent cheekbones,
the big eyes, the slightly hollow cheeks, the noses, the sensuous
mouths, the thick muscular necks were all alike.  There was no denying
the similarity.  They were both very good-looking hunks; Scott had to
admit that.

Scott remembered his sister Jackie taking the photographs of Robbie.
She had ambitions of becoming a photographer.  She had taken a number
of photographs in that session.  She was pretending that Robbie was a
male model.

"They certainly look alike," commented Scott.

"You can certainly see that," said Lavinia.  "They are like brothers,
or almost identical twins.  I think that it's more than just
coincidence.  There has to be a relationship."

Scott knew that there was a relationship.  The Archangel Michael had
already told him that Sam Rigby was his great-great-grandfather.
Robbie was his brother.  The whole family except his mother were
descendants of Sam.

Scott looked through both the book and the album.  He compared the
photographs of his brother Robbie and of Sam Rigby.

In one pair, Sam was naked and Robbie was wearing a pair of Speedos
swimming briefs.  They were both side-on looking at the camera and
tensing their arm muscles.  The triceps muscles stood out in a
horseshoe.

Sam was very powerfully built.  Robbie was a little less so.  Robbie
was five centimetres (2 inches) taller at 185 cm (6' 1") and ten
kilograms (22 pounds, 1 1/2 stone) lighter at 105 kilograms (231
pounds, 16 1/2 stone) than Sam was.

Apart from that, they looked almost identical, two powerful and
muscular men.

Scott found other photographs of his brother and Sam.  They were very
alike.

Lavinia asked Scott to get out the photograph album with the pictures
of Hector McKechnie, the father of Scott's grandmother Mavis Reeves,
and his parents.

She finished off the port in her glass.  Derek refilled it while Scott
fetched the photograph album.

Scott handed it to Lavinia.  She quickly found the photos of Hector as
a young man.  She laid the album open at a black and white photo of
Hector wearing the uniform of a mounted trooper in the New South Wales
Police Force.  He had light coloured eyes and light coloured curly
hair.  He too was a very good-looking well-built hunk.  He looked a
lot like both Sam and Robbie.  Scott looked at other photos of Hector.
The conclusion was clear.  However, Scott already knew that Hector was
Sam's son.  He was not permitted to reveal the source of his
information so he kept silent.

Lavinia suggested that Scott look at the photos of Hector's putative
parents, Police Sergeant McKechnie and his wife.  He did so.  There
was no resemblance.  Sergeant McKechnie was quite an ugly man with
narrow set dark eyes, dark hair, a long beaky nose, beetling brows, a
long ponderous jaw, and a thin mouth visible under a dark moustache.
His wife was a plain woman with dark hair drawn tightly back in a bun,
a pale thin face, downward-sloping dark eyes, a thin nose and mouth
and a small chin.

"You can't tell me Sergeant McKechnie and his wife are the natural
parents of Hector," said Lavinia.  "I won't believe you.  It is
obvious that they are not the natural parents of Hector."

Scott smiled.  "Have you asked Granny about it?" he asked.

"Yes but she doesn't know," replied Lavinia.  "She had asked her
father while he was still alive but he never would answer her
questions.  So I don't know what's going on there."

Scott knew from the interlude with the archangel that his grandmother
had been told the truth by Sergeant McKechnie when he was an old man
but he had sworn her to secrecy.

"I have heard the story about town that Hector and his brother Ian
were foundlings," said Scott.  "I remember asking Granny about it and
she said it was a load of rubbish and I shouldn't listen to gossip."

"I'm not surprised," laughed Lavinia.

"Have you asked Granny about your theory that we're descended from Sam
Rigby?" asked Scott.  "What does she think of it?"

"I have asked her and she's not at all interested.  She says it's all
just supposition on my part.  You know, Scottie, I'm so glad you're
interested in what I've found.  Thank you so much for lending a
sympathetic ear to me.  I can't really talk to your grandmother about
it at all.  She just brushes me off.  And your father isn't all that
interested in it either.  But thank you, Scottie, for listening to
me."

"My pleasure," replied Scott.  "I am very interested in what you have
put together.  What put you on this?"

"I was getting the book ready for publication and I was looking at all
the photographs that Archibald McBride had taken particularly the ones
of Sam Rigby.  I was sitting at my desk in the museum when your
brother Robbie came up to me.  When I saw Robbie, I thought I was
seeing Sam's ghost.  I just stared at him thinking he was Sam.  He's
so like Sam.  He must have thought I was being rather strange."

"He probably thought you were having a senior's moment," laughed
Chrissie.

"Quite possibly," said Lavinia.  "But Robbie and Sam do look awfully
alike.  It was then that I decided to follow it up further."

She looked at Scott thoughtfully.

"You know, Scottie," she said.  "If you allow for the colour of your
black hair, you look very like your brother Robbie and like Sam Rigby.
In fact, I think you are even better looking than Robbie.  You are
quite a beautiful man in my opinion."

Scott smiled.  "Thank you," he replied.

"Oh good heavens, Lavinia!" protested Chrissie.  "You shouldn't say
things like that.  You'll make the boy swollen headed."

Scott laughed.  "I don't think so," he said.  "I wouldn't dream of
being swollen headed."

Everyone but Chrissie laughed.  Lavinia was highly amused by Scott's
comeback.  The two old ladies were thinking how like Max Scott was.
Max would have said something similar.  Lavinia was thinking that
Scott was not a boy any more.  He was a man now and a big man at that.
Scott was definitely Max's son.

Lavinia invited Derek and Sylvester to come and look at the
photographs and make up their own minds about Sam and the Reeves
family.  They did so and agreed with her.

Scott said, "It's funny that it was the memorial plaque to Doctor Seth
Forsythe that fell down and smashed in the church this morning,
revealing the stature or picture of Jesus Christ.  I've heard the
story that it was Doctor Forsythe who led the men who murdered Sam
Rigby on the top of Mount Wattabang.  It is an interesting connection.
What do you think, Miss Longbottom?"

"That's interesting you should say that, Scottie," replied Lavinia.
"There is evidence that Doctor Forsythe was the leader of the
murderers who killed Sam Rigby.  Back in 1944 during World War II, an
old man was dying here in Ringtail Springs.  He made a deathbed
confession to the local Roman Catholic priest and his relatives who
were gathered around his bed as he lay dying.  He said that he was one
of the men who murdered Sam Rigby.  He said that it was Doctor
Forsythe who led the party up to Mount Wattabang and it was Doctor
Forsythe who cut open Sam Rigby while he was still alive and gave out
Sam's internal organs for the other men to eat."

"Ugh!" exclaimed Chrissie.  "How disgusting!  Those men were
cannibals!  How awful!"

"That's right, my dear," replied Lavinia.  "The dying man's grand-
niece was a shorthand typist who was working for the Shire Council at
the time.  She took down the old man's confession verbatim and typed
it all up into a document.  It's around somewhere.  I'm pretty sure
the family still has it.  I've read a photocopy.  It is interesting
that it took the old man fifty-five years when he was on his deathbed
to tell other people about it.  He had been keeping it bottled up
inside all those years.  He never married.  And he died ten minutes
after he made his confession.  Apparently he was the last survivor of
the group who murdered Sam Rigby.  Many of the others were killed in
World War I.  So perhaps it's fitting that it was the memorial plaque
to Doctor Forsythe that fell down and smashed in the church."

"Good will thrust evil aside and reveal itself when the time is
right," said Derek.

"Goodness me, Derek, you are a deep one," remarked Chrissie.

Derek refilled Lavinia's glass with more port.  Chrissie refused.
Derek topped up the glasses belonging to Sylvester, Scott and himself.

Scott stretched out luxuriously on the brown leather couch.

Lavinia took a hearty sip from her glass.  She looked at Scott.  She
admired his powerful muscular body.  Her eyes grew wide and misty.

"You know, Scottie," she said.  "You remind me very much of your late
grandfather Robbie Reeves.  He was a big man like you with big
muscles, black curly hair and bright blue eyes.  Mind you, you are
bigger and taller than your grandfather was.  I was in love with your
grandfather.  I loved him dearly..."

Chrissie gasped.  "Oh, Lavinia dear, don't say that!  Not in front of
these young men.  I didn't know about that either."

Lavinia turned to fix Chrissie with her gaze.  "Yes, Chrissie, I did
love Robbie Reeves and I don't care if Scottie and his friends do know
about it."

She turned back to face Scott.  She said: "Robbie Reeves, your
grandfather, came here to Ringtail Springs just after the War, I mean
World War II.  He set up as a plumber, which was a good thing because
there was no plumber here then.  He had fought in the War and I
suppose he was looking for somewhere quiet to settle down.

He was a lovely man and a very handsome man too.  It was a joy to
watch him stripped to the waist working away digging holes and fixing
pipes.  He was such a big strong man.  I remember when the lavatories
(toilets) in the library blocked, he had come and dug up the sewage
pipes.  I remember gazing at him and admiring his big bulging muscles
and thinking what a fine, strong and handsome man he was.

I had been appointed to the position of Librarian at the Ringtail
Springs Shire Library in 1946 just after World War II.  It was my
first job and I stayed there for more than fifty years.  My parents
had a farm near Ringtail Springs and I took the position to be near
them.  They later retired, sold the farm and moved to Sydney.  My
brother wasn't interested in taking on the farm."

She laughed.  "And neither of course was I."

She continued.  "I loved Robbie Reeves from afar.  I could never pluck
up the courage to tell him how much I loved him.  I don't think he
ever knew.  Many of the other girls around town were in love with him
too but I was besotted with him.  He used to go up to the hospital
often.  Your grandmother, Mavis McKechnie she was then, was a nurse up
there.  Robbie was often digging up blocked drains and clearing them
up at the hospital.

I used to think the nurses were deliberately flushing things down the
lavatories to block the drains purely to get him to come up there.  I
asked your grandmother about it many years later and she told me that
they had this poor demented old man up there at the hospital who used
to flush anything he could get his hands on down the lavatories.  Of
course the drains got blocked.  There was an awful kerfuffle when he
flushed some poor lady's false teeth down the lavatory.  Back in those
days false teeth were terribly expensive.  So of course Robbie was
called up to the hospital to dig up the drains and look for the false
teeth.  Fortunately he found them again.  Unfortunately he found them
with the teeth embedded in a big fat, er, bowel motion.  The hospital
staff had to sterilise them for a week before the lady would wear them
again."

"How did Granny get to know him?" asked Scott.

"She was, well, more assertive than me.  She made sure that he noticed
her.  She was quite forward and she liked him a lot.  They went out
quite a few times together."

"How come they got married?"

"The oldest trick in the book," replied Lavinia.  "Your grandmother
got pregnant to your grandfather, so of course they had to get
married.  It was all very hurried.  Your Uncle Matthew was born six
months after their wedding.  They said he was premature.  However, he
weighed eight pounds, six ounces (3.8 kilograms) when he was born, a
fine bouncing baby boy.  Of course he wasn't premature."

Scott laughed.  "So Granny was three months pregnant when she and
Grandpa got married.  Well, well!  Fancy that!  I never would have
guessed.  She is so pure these days."

"Well, don't you go teasing her about it, young man," admonished
Chrissie.

"It is still rather a sore point with her, even after all these
years," said Lavinia.

Scott grew thoughtful.  He remembered something Uncle Henry had said
to him just before the family left for Queensland.

"I wonder," he said, "if that was the reason why Grandpa was thrashing
Uncle Matthew all the time, that Granny was three months pregnant with
Uncle Matthew when they got married."

"How do you know that?" demanded Chrissie.

"Uncle Henry told me," replied Scott.

"Hmm.  Henry Houston seems to say a lot of things," sniffed Chrissie.

"It is true that Matthew did seem to have the devil in him," said
Lavinia.  "He used to get up to all sorts of mischief.  His father
used to have to give Matthew frequent hidings.  It's no wonder Henry
Houston didn't like Matthew.  Matthew used to give Henry a terrible
time at school, teasing him and bullying him.  Anyway, that's all bye
the bye now.  Matthew died a soldier's death in Vietnam.

You know, Scottie, Mavis certainly had no bed of roses when she
married Robbie.  Robbie has a quick temper and he used to fly into
terrible rages.  As far as I know, he never hit his wife but they
would have dreadful arguments.  He would storm out of the house, slam
the door and go down to the pub and get drunk.  He nearly always was
down at the hotel drinking and would get home quite drunk quite often.
I must say I wasn't all that surprised to see Robbie thrashing Matthew
so often.  I think it's entirely plausible that Robbie was taking out
his anger on his son.  I certainly got the impression that it was not
a happy household.

Anyway, Matthew's death was a dreadful blow to them.  Your father was
only sixteen at the time.  He had to leave school then and become a
plumber's apprentice to his father.  He was such an intelligent boy
too.

And then, Robbie himself died of a massive heart attack only two years
later.  I think the grief of losing his elder son must have killed
him.  It was a terrible blow to both Mavis and your father.  Max had
only just turned nineteen, I seem to remember.  Poor Mavis was beside
herself with grief after Robbie died and so was poor young Max."

"Did Granny ever know that you were in love with her husband?" asked
Scott.

"Oh yes, she did," replied Lavinia.  "I told her that after Robbie
died.  When they got married, I was terribly jealous at first.  It was
all I could do to be civil to Mavis.  But Mavis often used to come
round with Max in his pram to the library to borrow books while
Matthew was at kindergarten.  We started chatting and despite myself,
we became quite friendly.  We used to sit down and have a cup of tea
together and she would tell me all her troubles.  Max was a good baby.
He would often lie quietly in his pram and go to sleep while we
talked.

I remember I started feeling quite grateful that I didn't marry Robbie
Reeves after all and have to put up with all the troubles that Mavis
had to put up with.  It certainly was no romantic idyll for her, what
with young children and dirty nappies and getting up all through the
night and endless washing and cooking and cleaning.  Robbie was
turning out to be rather a difficult man to live with.

I considered myself lucky by comparison.  I realised that marriage
isn't all that it's cracked up to be.  I couldn't have Robbie because
Mavis was already married to him and their marriage was not exactly
rosy.  Any other man would have been second best for me.  So I decided
that I didn't need to get married.  I stayed single.

Then Mavis had her miscarriage.  It happened not long after your
father was born.  Max was still little then.  It was an awful
miscarriage.  The poor dear just couldn't stop bleeding.  She would
have bled to death so the doctor had to operate and take her womb out.
Poor Mavis!  She was terribly upset and disappointed.  She wanted a
large family and now she couldn't have one.  She just had the two
little boys, your father and his elder brother.

When Robbie had his heart attack and died, it took me a little while
to pluck up courage to go and see Mavis.  I was very sad too because I
still loved Robbie.  When I did go and see her, she was so grateful.
I told her that I was in love with Robbie too.  She threw her arms
around me and hugged me and we had a good cry together.  I think it
was the biggest cry she had had since her husband died.  I was crying
too.  She was glad that I loved Robbie too because I understood her
loss.  After that we became the best of friends."

"Wow, that's some story you told us," said Scott.  "An awful lot has
happened and a lot I didn't know about.  Thank you for telling me."

Lavinia smiled.  "It's been a pleasure, Scottie, a great pleasure.
It's so nice that you could listen to an old lady like me."

Later in the afternoon after the two old ladies had gone home, Scott,
Derek and Pan were lying on outdoor lounges on the back lawn.  They
were drinking beer.

Pan: << Scott, I must apologise for misleading you earlier today.  I
said that there were only twelve extra-terrestrial beings with super
powers.  That is not strictly true.  The twelve I mentioned are beings
who have had super powers for many millions of years.  They are very
old.  There are several hundred more who have more recently gained
super powers.  Quite a lot have had the help and guidance of humans.
There are human beings who have attained godhood and who are several
thousand years old.  They are bodhisattvas.  They have chosen to
remain here on Earth to help others gain super powers and attain
godhood.  They have uplifted extra-terrestrial beings to godhood as
well.  However, it was not until Hal Wray and Elizabeth Kursky
discovered the use of sex magic that the numbers of superhumans began
to increase rapidly. >>

Scott: << No worries, Pan. >>

Pan: << Scott, you are a lovely man.  You are a splendid example of
humankind.  And you're a baby bodhisattva with big bulging biceps. >>

Scott laughed.  << Thank you.  So much has happened to me in the past
few days.  It's been absolutely fantastic.  Thanks to you two, today
I've had the best Christmas ever. >>


--------------------------------------
End of Chapter 6.

Continued in Part 61.
--------------------------------------