Date: Mon, 1 Oct 2012 02:02:17 -0700 (PDT)
From: Wombat <bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au>
Subject: 'The Old Valley Road Hotel #61' {Wombat} ( MM SciFi Anal Size Musc Biker ) [ 61 ! xx ]

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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 7 'A Rainy Day' Part 1:

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Part 61: Watching the Rain
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Derek stood leaning on the wooden railing of the upstairs verandah of
the Old Valley Road Hotel. He was watching the rain come down.  It was
late July, the middle of winter and the rain was falling steadily.

He was naked despite the cold.  He was a superman so he did not feel
the cold at all.  His nakedness was hidden from the public gaze by the
recently painted cream wooden slats between the dark red verandah
railing and the wooden floor.  He could feel the thick warm heavy mass
of his penis hanging down between his powerfully muscled thighs.

The rain was heavy enough to completely obscure the surrounding hills.
All around the hotel was a misty cold dripping greyness.  The gum
trees in the forest on the other side of the track running along the
dry stone boundary wall were heavy with moisture.  With all the wet
weather, the dry stone wall had a healthy covering of bright green
moss.

A woman appeared walking along the track down from Old Valley Road
towards the footbridge over the river to the town.  She was wearing a
yellow plastic raincoat with matching yellow rain hat.  Underneath she
wore an overcoat.  With her was a little white dog with a curly coat.
It was wearing a matching yellow plastic raincoat.  It looked like a
spoodle or cockapoo.  The little dog stayed on the track with its
mistress.  It did not venture into the dripping forest.

The woman looked up at the old hotel and saw the young man leaning on
the railing of the upstairs verandah.  She saw that he was at least
stripped to the waist.  She wondered if he was naked but she could not
see through the slats between the dark red upper and lower railings.
She thought she glimpsed a naked thigh.  The man was very powerfully
muscled.  She could see the big biceps bulging on his bare arms.  How
he could stand the cold at least half naked was beyond her.  She
herself was well rugged up.

She thought the man was watching her but he was too far away to tell.
He looked up away from her at the trees in the forest.  He was very
good-looking, beautiful in fact.  She had noticed that all the people
living at the old hotel were good-looking.  The men were very powerful
and muscular and the women were beautiful.  Quite a lot of people were
living there now.   She had heard there was some sort of community in
the old hotel now.

She had heard that there was something "going on at the old hotel".
All the men were splendidly muscular physical specimens and were very
strong and good-looking.  All the women were fit and beautiful.  There
were several older people living there and they seemed to be enjoying
a very active and healthy old age.  Several young children were there
as well.  She assumed that they were with their parents.

There was definitely something different about the people living in
the hotel.  They certainly did not appear to be like the average run-
of-the-mill person living in Ringtail Springs.  They seemed healthier
and fitter than average.

The woman wondered what was going on at the old hotel.  But they
seemed harmless enough and they were playing some part in the
community as a whole.

She had noticed that Scott Reeves, the mayor's son, had grown into a
massive mountain of muscle, much bigger than his father, who himself
was a gorgeous muscular hunk.  She often caught herself envying
Veronica Reeves.  But Scott was absolutely enormous.  She wondered how
he did it.  She remembered hearing about the Long Phat Kok stuff that
everyone said he had been taking.

Scott was one of the people living in the old hotel now and was
actively involved in running the place.  She had heard that he taken
on quite a lot of responsibility now, unusual for a young man of
eighteen.

The people living there now had certainly tidied the old place up.
The old hotel had fresh coats of paint on the roof and all the wood-
work.  The stone-work of the walls seemed to glow since it had been
cleaned.  She thought the old hotel looked really nice now.  It would
be a lovely place to stay.

The garden between the hotel and the stone wall along the track had
been tidied up.  The trees had all the dead wood removed.  They looked
much healthier.  A whole lot of new plants, shrubs and young trees had
been planted.  Some were flowering.  The garden was beautiful, even
though it was the depths of winter.  Colourful winter flowers bloomed
despite the rain.

She could see the vegetable garden in the distance.  It was reputed to
be very productive.  People admired it and visitors came from miles
around.  It looked very well-kept and it had a high fence around it to
keep the kangaroos out.

The stone wall itself had been repaired.  No longer a tumbledown
eyesore, it looked solid and well-built.  It looked like a work of
art.

Derek listened into her thoughts.  She seemed to be thinking the usual
sorts of thoughts that people thought about the hotel.

The little dog suddenly sprang forward and scampered on ahead to the
closed wooden gate in the stone wall.  It stopped at the gate and
barked sharply several times through the palings.

Derek heard a thump and a rattle as a big heavy dog charged through
the doggy flap in the door into the garden and bounded up to the gate.
Derek recognised Khan, the young German Shepherd Dog who had been
given to Scott the previous January.  He was about a year old now and
black and tan in colouring.  A barking match between Khan and the
little white dog ensued through the palings of the gate.

Derek heard another German Shepherd Dog go through the doggy flap but
somewhat more gently than Khan did.  He recognised the mind of
Hannibal before he saw the dog.  Hannibal was about five years old and
mainly black in colour with golden highlights.  He was a happy good-
natured dog who belonged to Don Kursky, one of the sons of Peter and
Elizabeth Kursky.

The woman was worried that the old wooden gate would give way if the
two German Shepherd Dogs had really thrust their weight against it.
They were barking ferociously.  She worried that poor little Poopsie
would get mauled if the two big dogs broke through.

Derek knew that the little dog was safe.  The two big dogs had no
intention of breaking through the gate.  They were just enjoying the
sport.  In any case, the gate was built strong enough to withstand
them.

She called Poopsie but he took not the slightest notice.  He continued
barking back with his high-pitched yap.  She had to go back and scoop
him up.  She marched off homeward with the little dog under her arm.
The two big dogs whined as she strode away.  She looked up hurriedly
up at the big handsome brute on the verandah and wondered if he was
grinning but he was too far away for her to tell.

She felt a bit embarrassed about the name.  People often laughed at
the dog's name.  When she had first acquired the little dog as a
puppy, she had asked her daughter who was four years old at the time
to name him.  The little girl had decided upon "Poopsie" and that was
that.  They were stuck with it.  Her daughter was eight now.  The
woman knew they could not change the dog's name for it would only
confuse the animal.

Derek watched the woman walk off down the track towards town and
listened to her thoughts as she went.

"Huwwo!"

The salutation interrupted his telepathic scanning of the woman.
Derek looked behind him and saw Kieran, a little boy of two years old
riding his tricycle around on the upstairs verandah.  Kieran was all
dressed up in a blue teddy bear suit against the winter cold.  He was
the son of Fiona and Douglas who were members of the community now
living in the hotel.

"Hello, Kieran," replied Derek drily.  "Cold enough for you?"

Kieran looked Derek up and down.

"You got no cloves on," he observed.  "Mummy won't let me do that."

"I'm a lot bigger that you are," replied Derek.  "You'd get dreadfully
cold and awfully sick and maybe die.  When you grow up as big as your
dad or me, then you can run round with no clothes on in wintertime.
But until then, you've got to keep well rugged up or you'll die of
cold in this cold weather."

"Bye now."  Kieran rode off on his trike and rounded the corner.

Derek knew he had a few minutes of peace until the little boy made a
circuit of the hotel and reappeared unless he found a distraction on
the way.

He smiled as he came into contact with Fiona's mind.

Derek: << Love the teddy bear suit. >>

Fiona: << At least it keeps him warm.  Thanks for giving him that
little speech about keeping his clothes on in this weather.  He may
take more notice of you.  He doesn't with me. >>

<< You're his Mum. >>

<< Yeah. Don't I know it! >>

Khan and Hannibal galloped up the garden path and into the building.
Derek heard the thumps as they raced through the doggy flap.

The woman in the yellow raincoat had disappeared from view down the
path.

Rex, the ancient German Shepherd Dog belonging to Peter and Elizabeth
Kursky, had not made an appearance outside.  He did not like the cold
wet weather.  Right at the moment he was sprawled out asleep and
snoring in front of the roaring log fire burning in one of the front
rooms.  He did not stir when the younger dogs were barking at Poopsie.

Derek smiled at the name 'Poopsie'.  Somehow it seemed fitting for
such a silly little dog.  He grinned as he remembered the time back in
April when Poopsie came barking at the wooden gate.  The younger dogs
were somewhere else.  Rex strolled over to the gate, sniffed at
Poopsie contemptuously, lifted his leg and emptied his bladder through
the slats in the gate all over the little dog.  Poopsie was too stupid
to get out of the way but stood there yowling while Rex urinated all
over him.

The woman who owned the little dog started to pick him up but quickly
changed her mind.  Rex meanwhile scratched at the path and showered
the woman and her dog with dirt and gravel.  The woman was filled with
a helpless fury.  Rex just ambled off with a massive indifference.

Derek's thoughts turned to all the changes that had occurred in his
life since the previous October, ten months ago.  Hal had irrupted
into his life and changed everything.  It truly had been a life-
changing event.  So much had happened since then.  Scott Reeves was
now a large part of his life.  Scott had grown into an enormous and
wonderful young man who had developed amazing abilities.

Many changes had occurred as well in and to the old hotel on Valley
Road.

Now a thriving community had taken root there.  It was nothing like as
big as the Mount Remarkable Community but it numbered about three-
score souls.  People started arriving in January not long after New
Year.  It was good that many familiar faces were now here about him.

Several young men from the town were living in the community as well.
Scott was doing fine work.

The first apart from Derek and Scott to come and live in the community
was Paul Hamilton-Forbes, the younger son of the local Anglican
Rector, the Reverend Julian Hamilton-Forbes and his wife Helen.

Derek remembered that well.  It started during the fag-end of the
year, the week between Christmas and the New Year.

Derek and Scott were walking through the graveyard of St Aidan's
church.  The day had been hot but since it was after sunset, the edge
had come off the summer heat.

They had been in an alternate world that Derek had created.  It was a
copy of one created by Peter Wray, Hal's son.  It was an Earth-like
planet and a place of beauty.  Scott and Derek had been in a cabin in
a forest near a waterfall.  That was in a well-watered continent.

In that time Scott had been actively learning how to use the
extraordinary super powers that he had been granted.  His telepathic
mind was like a vacuum cleaner actively sucking up knowledge,
information and wisdom as fast as possible.  Joyfully he rummaged
through the vast store of knowledge that Hal had downloaded into
Derek's mind and transferred it into his own.  He became a powerful
telepath.

Derek remembered his feelings of inadequacy when he was training up
Fox.  Now it was irrelevant.  Scott was eager to learn everything that
Derek knew and he learnt quickly.  Derek was proud of what Scott was
becoming.

In the alternate world, Derek and Scott spent much time together naked
in the cabin in the forest.  Derek was determined to teach Scott how
to fuck a man beautifully, how to make it a transformative experience
for that man.  Derek had switched off his invulnerability and got
Scott to practise on him many times.  He had changed himself into
several different body sizes ranging from a short thin man to a huge,
powerfully muscled man the size of Big Dick.

During that time, Derek decided that Scott would look better with
bigger and more muscular arms.  With God's consent he increased the
size of Scott's upper arms from 26 inches (66 cm) to a full 28 inches
(71 cm).  He increased Scott's weight to 397 pounds (180 kg) and
refined Scott's musculature so that Scott's body literally bulged all
over with muscle.

He increased the size of Scott's forearms, hands and shoulders so that
they were in proportion with his huge upper arms.  A network of veins
covered his forearms and drained into two thick cable-like veins
running up both his biceps muscles.  He increased the size of Scott's
waist to 34 inches (86 cm.) so that it was more in proportion with his
massive wide shoulders and deep powerful chest.

Lean hard muscles bulged all over his body with not a visible trace of
body fat.

Scott looked even more freakishly muscular than before.  He looked
like one of those photographs of bodybuilders expertly morphed so that
the muscles were huge, much bigger than a normal man could achieve.
But he was totally and solidly real.  With his broad massively
powerful shoulders, mighty arms with huge bulging biceps and triceps,
deep muscular chest, thick strong neck, narrow hips, thickly muscled
thighs, a perfect butt and a slim muscle-packed waist with his abdomen
sporting a spectacular ten-pack of solid muscle, he looked the perfect
comic book super-hero.

To Scott's amazement, God patched in Hal, who appeared as an astral
projection in the alternate world.  Hal looked Scott over.

Hal: << Scott, you look like a teenage boy's wet dream. >>

He echoed Derek's thoughts.

Scott threw a mind-boggling double biceps pose.  His huge arms bulged
with power.

<< I am a teenage boy's wet dream.  I am a teenager.  I have the
power. >>

Hal laughed.

<< I would think with that truly spectacular physique, Scott, you will
be pulling in the teenage boys and young men.  I reckon you will have
the power. >>

Later on, Derek was lying on the bed in the forest cabin underneath
Scott revelling in the experience of having Scott's sixteen-inch (40
cm) cock up his arse.  He was back to his usual powerfully muscular
size of 135 kilograms (297 lb.) and 186 centimetres (6' 1.25") but
with his invulnerability switched off.  He had just been beautifully
fucked by Scott.  He had given Scott full marks for the fuck.  It had
been wonderful and their orgasms had lasted a long time.  Derek was
replete with sexual satisfaction.  Scott's stiff hard penis remained
up his arse.  Derek relished the golden afterglow of a glorious fuck.

He held Scott's beautiful, handsome head in his hands admiring it
while Scott had his huge thick muscular arms wrapped around him.
Derek loved Scott's big, bright blue eyes, the curve of his eyebrows,
his thick dense mass of curly black hair that came down over his high
forehead to his eyes and rose in a rounded mass which added about 5
centimetres (2 inches) to Scott's height of 193 centimetres (6' 4").
He loved the perfect proportions of Scott's face and head.  He loved
Scott's prominent cheekbones, slightly hollow cheeks, strong full
sensuous mouth, strong square jaw and long black sideburns that
reached down to the bottoms of his ears.  He loved Scott's massive
deltoids that nearly matched the size of his enormous biceps and
triceps.  Scott looked the perfect image of the manly, romantic,
Byronic hero of a Victorian novel but with huge and mighty muscles.
And he was massively cute, like a very cute and cuddly big teddy bear.
He looked like Superman, but a huge hunky romantic sweet version of
Superman.  And he was naked - lean, hard and massively muscular.

Derek looked up at Scott and ran his fingers through Scott's thick mop
of curly black hair.  He murmured dreamily, "You're so fucking cute,
Scott.  You're as cute as a teddy-bear and you're a fucking huge great
big hunky manly hyper-masculine muscly sex god.  You're my dream
lover.  With you, I'm in a cum-soaked fantasy."

Scott: << Me, too.  You are fucking glorious. >>

With that, Scott leant down and kissed Derek sensuously on the lips.
It turned into a long-lasting and passionate kiss.  Derek put his arms
around Scott's neck and wrapped his legs around Scott's waist.  Scott
started thrusting his cock rhythmically up Derek's arse into his torso
once again.  He loved Derek, who was the most wonderful thing ever to
have happened to him.  He loved Derek from the bottom of his heart.
And Derek reciprocated that fervent love.

The fuck continued.  They both were shaken by a titanic series of
orgasms like tidal waves that swamped them both with orgiastic love
and lust.

They were lost in love.  They had lost count of the number of days
they spent together in that alternate world for there were many.

Some of the time they spent riding motorbikes naked along trails
through the extensive forest.  They went onto small roads and big
roads.  They ventured onto a highway that went right across the empty
forested continent thousands of miles (kilometres) to a wild ocean
shore on the other side.  They rode its length just for the fun of it.
That journey took many weeks.

Along the way Derek taught Scott all the skills of being a member of
the Roadknights Motor Cycle club.  Scott quickly learnt how to apply
super-stick to the tyres of his motorbike, how to use his super powers
to keep his bike in top condition and topped up 'magically' with fuel
and oil.  He learnt how to fight and disable opponents, just as Hal
had taught Derek two months ago.  Derek taught Scott how to use his
psychokinetic powers and cryptoscopic sense.  He taught Scott how to
enhance his telepathic abilities.  It was not long before Derek was
satisfied that Scott had all the skills required to be admitted as a
Roadknight and a lot more.

Next, Derek went back in time and took Scott on a motorbike ride
around Australia.  In the stub timeline Scott borrowed his brother
Matt's Harley-Davidson motorcycle for the trip.  In that time Scott
applied the skills he had learnt from Derek.

The few days since Christmas Day had expanded into many months thanks
to the side trips in time.

At Scott's request, Derek took him back to the alternate timeline when
Derek had gone back in time and had his first fuck with Scott.  This
was when Hal's friends had come over from South Australia and admitted
Derek to the Roadknights Motor Cycle Club.  They did not drop into the
timeline but watched it as if they were watching a 3D video that they
could move around in.  They watched the progress of the relationship
between Derek the superman and Scott.  They saw Robbie lead the charge
of men who interrupted the final fuck between Scott and Derek.  They
saw Mick Shanahan confess to Max Reeves that he had been having sex
with Max's brother Matt in Vietnam and that he loved Matt very much.

Max was very understanding.  He accepted the news of the relationship
well.  He had suspected a relationship between Mick and his brother
Matt for many years and he was glad Mick had told him at last.
However, he wished that Mick had told him much sooner rather than
suffer for thirty years.

Scott saw that his father had been wanting for many years to know
about Mick and Matt.  He saw how readily his father had accepted
knowing about the sexual relationship between his dead brother and
Mick.  His father was not really bothered much at all.  He was just
irritated at having to wait so long to hear about it.

Scott was amused when Hal made an appearance in the guise of
Hildegard.  He was moved by Hildegard's speech about love.  He saw how
he had put himself in between Kym's gun and Derek.  It was exactly
what he would have done.  He loved Derek totally.

After their visit to Derek's alternate world, the two men had flown to
the Mount Remarkable Community.  Scott had enjoyed flying across the
desert landscape to South Australia, alternately zooming across the
sand dunes at shrub-top level and soaring high into the sky.

At Mount Remarkable they had lots of fun and sex.

Hal was impressed by what Scott had grown into.  He had taken Scott
and Derek back in time to his 'hidey hole' in belle epoque Paris in
1901 and he took up his persona as Professor Alain de Berry again.
They had an excellent time there.  Hal took them both to several meals
at Maxim's Restaurant.  His two huge beautiful young exotic Australian
guests caused a sensation.

While they were in Paris, they were having a breakfast of croissants
and coffee with cream, jam and honey in the dining room of Hal's
luxurious apartment.

Hal looked at Scott seriously and asked the question.

Hal: << Scott, if you were to become Emperor of Earth and Her Empire
in Space, then Jesus returned to Earth, what would you do? >>

Scott replied without hesitating: << I would hand over my crown to
Him.  No problem. >>

Hal thought that was a good answer.

Hal: << OK, then, there is the possibility that Jesus may want you to
continue as Emperor.  He would reign as the High King, the King of
kings, while you would rule as Emperor, or Imperator, which is
Commander in Latin.  He would set the guidelines and policy directions
while you would be responsible to Him for the good government of Earth
and her Dominions in space.  How would you like that? >>

Scott shrugged his shoulders.  To him, the question was purely
hypothetical.

<< I guess that'd be OK. >>  He had no problems with the idea.  << But
why me?  Why would I be Emperor? >>

<< What if God decides that you are the best man for the job? >>

Scott smiled wryly.  << I guess I'm going to have to do it then. >>

Hal was satisfied with that.  He saw that Scott was a good prospect;
he had the potential to be a good ruler, a good emperor, even though
he was now only seventeen years old.

Hal: << I look forward to a time where there is no misery, no
suffering, no war, no cruelty and no exploitation of others.  I look
forward to a world where men and women live in love, peace and harmony
together, where there is no division by politics, religion, wealth,
race or any other reason. >>

Scott eyes became wet with emotion.  << If I did become Emperor, I
would want you, Hal, to be my Grand Vizier, my chief adviser, my grey
eminence, my wise old man to guide me through the perils and pitfalls
of statecraft.  Would you, Hal? >>

Hal: << You'd have Jesus to guide you.  I am nothing beside Jesus.
Compared to Him I'm just a small child. >>

Scott persisted.  << But I'd want a human, a human like you to give me
a human perspective and keep me connected with human reality. >>

<< If I'm needed in that role, if God wants me in that role, well
then, yes, of course I'll do it. >>

Scott got up and hugged Hal.

Then he put his arm around Derek's shoulders.  He felt the looming
weight of destiny on his own shoulders.

<< Derek, mate, would you be my advisor and my helper? >>

<< Sure thing, mate.  No worries. >>  Derek was ready in his reply.

Scott kissed him.

Now that they were back on Earth in their own time on the main time-
line in Ringtail Springs, Scott remembered that he had promised to
keep an eye on his grandmother's cottage in Church Mews while the rest
of the family was in Queensland.

Later that afternoon Scott drove himself and Derek down from Valley
Road in his old orange Ford Falcon utility.  They decided to go by car
because Scott wanted to show off his huge magnificent body driving
around the town in the ute.

However, they could not find a park nearby.  Large numbers of cars
were already parked for some distance around St Aidan's Church.

The summer holiday period from Christmas to the end of January is
known as the silly season in Australia because there are few big news
stories.  As a result, the media are desperate for news content.  They
resort to stories like the lady in the United States who blow-dried
her freshly washed poodle in her microwave oven.  They love stories
like the courageous American tourist who fought off a giant salt-water
crocodile when he went swimming in a river in the Northern Territory
or the gorgeous young blonde Danish tourist in Western Australia who
had her bikini top removed by a playful dolphin.

The stories about the miraculous image of Jesus Christ appearing in
the hole in the church wall left by the collapse of the memorial to
Doctor Seth Forsythe as well as the giant phallus appearing out of the
top of Mount Wattabang dropped like a bomb into the post-Christmas
torpor.  The stories made it to the international news media.
Pilgrims, tourists and curiosity-seekers travelled to Ringtail Springs
from all over Australia and beyond.

Scott found a park several streets away the other side of the
churchyard from Church Mews.  They walked to the lych-gate at the
front of the churchyard.  Inside the churchyard they observed the long
queue of people waiting at the church door to get inside and see the
image of Jesus.

Near the lych-gate a young workman was painting an iron lamp post in
the churchyard dark green.  He had a radio blaring nearby.  When he
saw Scott and Derek he stopped painting and, with his paintbrush
poised in mid-air, he stared open mouthed with awe and admiration at
the two musclemen.  Scott knew him slightly; he had seen him around
town.  He nodded in greeting.

As they walked past, an advertisement blared out from the workman's
radio.  It asked if you had erection problems.  Can you satisfy her?
It then extolled the virtues of a sex clinic's new anal delivery
technology that would solve all erection problems.

Scott smiled wryly.  << A big fat cock up your arse would certainly
fix any erection problems. >>

Derek smirked.

Some of the people in the queue heard the radio advertisement.  Some
sniggered.  Others were not impressed.

"How bloody tasteless," muttered a middle-aged man to his wife.

She agreed.

The people in the queue stared at the two musclemen walking past.
Neither wore a shirt.  Scott and Derek were each wearing just a brief
low-cut pair of dark blue workman's shorts and a pair of black work
boots.  Their magnificent muscular bodies were on full display.  Scott
almost swaggered as he walked with his huge heroically muscular and
veiny 28-inch (71-cm) arms swinging at his side.  People ogled his
stupendous physique.  He relished the attention.

They walked through the well-shaded cemetery and saw more people
making their way to the church.  Many large shady evergreen trees grew
in the cemetery, trees such as cypresses, casuarinas, and many
different varieties of pine trees from all around the world including
Aleppo pines, Canary Island pines, Norfolk Island pines, Radiata
(Monterey) pines and hoop pines.  The wind sighed as it blew through
their branches.

Church Mews was full of parked vehicles.

The two looked around the outside of Scott's grandmother's cottage.
All appeared to be in order.  Scott saw that all the pot plants had
already been watered; they were doing well.  He had the house keys.
They went into the cottage and looked around.  It was very neat and
tidy, just as his grandmother had left it.

Derek was interested in the photographs displayed on the mantelpiece
over the fireplace in the sitting (living) room.  They showed her dead
husband and son, her living son, his wife and their seven children.
There was a wedding photograph of Max and Veronica.  The photographs
of the children showed them in ages from babies through to recent ones
of the children as adults and teenagers.  Derek particularly liked one
in colour of Scott as a laughing baby of about six months old.  It
showed his big bright blue eyes, black curly hair and big happy laugh.
A recent one of Scott showed a big muscular teenager with a sullen
expression on his face.  He did not look happy.  His face seemed
closed up.

Scott put his arms around Derek and affectionately kissed the back of
his neck.  Their love resonated between each other.

Scott took Derek upstairs and showed him around.  They saw Mrs Reeves'
bedroom.  The wallpaper had thin pale green stripes and a pattern of
tiny pink roses on a pale pink background.  The single bed had a pink
and lavender patterned quilt.  The room was very neat and tidy.  The
window looked out over the street.  The smaller spare bedroom had an
antique wooden roll-top writing desk and a single bed with just a
brown and yellow coverlet over the mattress.  There was a bathroom and
separate toilet, both with walls painted pale yellow.

Downstairs and outside, Derek liked the cottage garden that Scott's
grandmother tended.  It was neat but complex; there were an
interesting variety of plants.  They were healthy and well kept.

An old man appeared at the front fence and demanded to know what the
two men were doing in the garden.  They were on private property.

"G'day, Mr Bampton," replied Scott cheerfully.  "My grandmother asked
me to keep an eye on her place while she's away up in Queensland.
How're ya goin'?"

"Oh, it's you, Scottie," said Mr Bampton.  "Sorry, I didn't realise it
was you.  You seem to have got a lot bigger since I last saw you.
Goodness me, you do have such huge muscles these days.  Who's your
friend?"

Scott introduced Derek to Mr Bampton, who with his wife also lived in
Church Mews.  Mr Bampton was a friend of Scott's grandmother.  He was
interested to meet the handsome young muscleman who lived in the old
motor garage next to the old Valley Road Hotel.  He had heard about
Scott's friend Derek.

Mr Bampton was the predecessor of Max Reeves as churchwarden.  His
wife still did duty as the deputy church organist and an altar server.

He invited them to high tea, which is a tradition among the residents
of Church Mews between Christmas and the New Year.  No, he insisted
that Scott and Derek join him, his wife and the other residents of
Church Mews for high tea.  Scott could stand in for his grandmother
who was away.  Mr Bampton remarked that Scott and Derek were two
splendid specimens of manhood.

Scott accepted the invitation to high tea.  Together they trooped over
the road to the Bampton house.

The other residents of Church Mews had already gathered in the dining
room.  Lavinia Longbottom and Chrissie Watson were there.  Each
household took it in turns to host high tea during the period between
Christmas and New Year.

The dining table was laden with food.  However, the lighting was dim
because six of the eight light globes had blown in the eight-branch
glass chandelier over the dining table.  Mrs Hunter complained about
the dim religious lighting.  Mr Bampton said that his knees were too
arthritic to climb a ladder and Mrs Bampton did not like heights.

Old Mr Fred Field gave a cackling laugh.  "You know, young Scottie,
we're all too old to go shinnying up ladders these days."

"What about Luke the parish handyman?" asked Scott.

"Oh, the poor man is far too busy," replied Mrs Bampton.  "He only
works part-time and the parish really doesn't pay him very much."

"And in any case," said Mrs Hunter, "some bastard stole his ladder."

Scott and Derek offered to replace the light globes.  That offer was
gratefully accepted.

Scott hoisted Derek up.  He held Derek up horizontally by the waist
over the dining table while Derek rested his feet on Scott's
shoulders.  Mr Bampton passed the new light globes up to Derek who
used them to replace the old ones in the chandelier.  The two
shirtless young men were a spectacular symphony of bulging muscle as
Derek replaced the light globes.  The people present were open-mouthed
with admiration.

The light-globes replaced, they all sat down and enjoyed a hearty
meal.  There was an abundance of food.  Both Scott and Derek were
plied with home-made pasties and pastries and pies and rolls.

"You are both such big strong young men," commented Chrissie.  "You
must be hungry."

"I wouldn't want to eat you out of house and home," replied Scott.

"Oh dear boy!" exclaimed Mrs Halliday.  "Of course not!  We all love
cooking."

"I'll bet you take a lot of feeding, Scottie," laughed Mr Halliday.
"You look like one of Doug Willoughby-Wainthropp's champion stud bulls
with all that muscle on you.  I've never seen so much muscle on a man
before.  You are truly enormous."

"What a pity Mavis isn't here," commented Lavinia.  "She'd be so proud
of the magnificent specimen that her grandson has grown into."

"Doug Willoughby-Wainthropp, isn't he the fellow who owns the beef
cattle stud out on the road to Gundagai?" asked Chrissie.  "I see him
and his wife at church occasionally."

"The same," replied Mr Halliday.  "He's been doing rather well lately.
His bulls have been winning quite a few prizes, especially at the
Royal Easter Show.  Young Scottie's probably on the same special diet
as Willoughby-Wainthropp's bulls."

Mrs Bampton giggled.  "I hear Scottie's been taking something unusual.
It's got rather a rude name so I won't mention it here."

They all laughed.

Mrs May Field was deaf; she was 93 years old.  When Derek said
anything to her, he beamed his words directly into Mrs Field's brain
so she thought she could hear clearly everything he said.  Scott
quickly picked up the skill from Derek.  Mrs Field complimented the
two young men on how clear and well-spoken they were.  She said most
young people mumbled incomprehensibly these days even with her hearing
aid.  She could never hear what they said.

Mrs Hunter remarked on the similarity between Scott and the statue of
Sam Rigby in the graveyard nearby.  The other old people concurred.
Lavinia expounded her theory that Scott was a descendant of Sam.  A
lively discussion ensured.  Scott said that it might be possible but
he was not sure.  He did not wish to appear disloyal to his
grandmother and said so.  The old people understood.

Mrs Field looked at Derek and said that it was interesting that
Beatles haircuts were coming back into fashion.  Mrs Hunter said she
like Derek's hairstyle.  It gave him an animal appeal.

Lavinia said that Derek was the most beautiful man she had ever set
eyes upon.  Mrs Hunter and Mrs Halliday agreed.

High tea finally over, Scott and Derek took their leave and departed.

"I'm as full as a tick," remarked Scott as they walked up Church Mews
back towards the churchyard.

"I'm so full I could crack a flea on my stomach," replied Derek.

On their way back through the graveyard, they passed the memorial to
Sam Rigby over his grave.  The last rays of the sun setting over the
western hills illuminated the muscular white marble statue of Sam
Rigby set high above the surrounding gravestones.  It was an excellent
piece of sculpture.  They admired it.

The statue reminded Derek of a picture of a statue of Hercules as a
shepherd that he had seen in a book somewhere.  However, the statue of
Sam was a lot more muscular.  It was of a man with a build of a
champion bodybuilder.  The muscles were massive.  The chiselled, well-
defined musculature was magnificent.  Obviously the sculptor knew the
human anatomy very well and gave reign to his fantasies.

Scott patted the tall brown granite plinth supporting the marble
statue over the grave of Sam Rigby.  The plinth was as high as he was.

"All hail to thee, O mighty great-great-grandfather," said Scott with
a grin.

Derek looked at Scott and then at the statue above him.

Derek: << The old people at Church Mews are right.  You do look like
the statue of Sam Rigby. >>

Derek considered that the statue was an idealised, improved depiction
of Sam Rigby.  They had both seen Sam in the flesh in the vision of
what happened on Mount Wattabang.  Scott resembled both Sam and the
statue.  However, Scott was better looking than the real Sam was.

Together with their arms around each other's shoulders, they read the
inscription on the granite plinth.  Sam Rigby was born in Ringtail
Springs on the 8th of December 1861.  He was foully murdered by
persons unknown on top of Mount Wattabang in November 1888 at the age
of twenty-six years.  The epitaph read: "A brave and valiant soul
taken too soon to God."

A shiver went through Scott's body.  Derek gave him an affectionate
hug.  Scott understood the enormity of what was done to Sam Rigby.

They remembered the story that the Archangel Michael had told them.
They knew that the grief-stricken Archibald McBride had commissioned a
remarkable monument to mark Sam's grave in the graveyard of St Aidan's
Church.  Atop the granite plinth was placed a heroically muscular
marble statue of Sam holding a shepherd's crook and leaning against a
rock.  Archibald McBride had paid 538 pounds sterling for the
memorial, a huge sum for those days.  The statue became well known and
admired.  People said that the Sydney sculptor was a genius; he was
the colonial Michelangelo.

The sun set.  The light faded quickly from the summer sky.  The lights
on the lamp posts in the church-yard flickered on.  They appeared only
to intensify the darkness.

Derek looked around the cemetery in the gathering tree-shaded gloom.
Tombstones were all around them.  Many were topped by crosses.

Derek: <+ Cemetery looks kind of spooky, like a set out of a horror
movie. +>

Scott: << Feel like spending the night here? >> <+ With an impish
sense of humour +>  He was feeling better now.

Derek grinned at Scott lecherously.  << As long as it's with you,
lover boy. >>

Scott laughed.

Nearby was the looming black granite mass of the McBride family vault.
In it were buried all of George McBride's dead ancestors and most of
his dead relations.  Inscriptions to their memory covered the walls of
the vault.

Scott: << I remember Mrs Hunter saying once that George McBride was
like a potato - all his goodness was underground. >>

Derek laughed.  << That wasn't very nice of the dear old lady.  She
sounds like a real old cynic. >>

They heard the sound of laughter and talking nearby.

"God!  This place is so spooky," said a girl in an accent from the
Mid-West of the United States.

"Yeah, you can kinda see all sorts of horror things happening here,"
said a teenage boy in a similar accent.

"It sure feels like it's haunted, like that guy said," said another
girl.

The party of teenage tourists approached.  There were a number of
them.  They were flashing electric torches in all directions.  Derek
and Scott were illuminated like wildlife in spotlights.

"God, look at them!  They're huge," said a teenage boy.

"I wonder if they're ghosts," said a girl fearfully.

"G'day," said Scott cheerfully.  "You lot looking for the image of
Jesus in the church?  It's been closed for a few hours now."

The party came up to them.

"You guys not ghosts, then," said another teenage boy, one of the
party.

Scott and Derek laughed.  "Do we look like ghosts?" asked Scott.

"Nah, I guess not."

"We heard this cemetery was haunted and full of ghosts," said another
of the tourists.

Scott and Derek laughed.

"Well, I've lived in this town all my life and I never saw any ghosts
here," said Scott in an easy Australian drawl.

"Where did you hear it was haunted?" asked Derek.

"At The Ringtail Possum, the hotel we're staying at," said a teenager.

"Well, you never believe what you hear in pubs," said Scott with a
laugh, "particularly what people tell tourists."

A loud cry rang out across the graveyard through the darkness,
followed by a wail of despair.

The girls clutched the boys in fear.

Scott and Derek immediately reached out with their telepathic sense.

"What was that about no ghosts?" asked one of the boys in a shaking
voice.

"That's no bloody ghost," declared Scott.  "Sounds like someone's in a
bad way."

He strode off purposefully through the trees into the darkness in the
direction of the cry.

"Golly, he's brave," commented one of the girls.

"Do you think it's a ghost?" one of the boys asked Derek.

"No.  I think I know who it is," replied Derek.  "I might just go and
see if there's anything I can do to help."

He started moving off in the direction that Scott had taken.

The tourists made to follow but Derek stopped them. He explained to
them that it was a very private matter and it was best that Scott was
left alone with the mourner.  He knew what to do.  Having a curious
audience would be no help at all, a hindrance in fact.

The party looked at one another then at Derek and decided not to
pursue the matter.  One of the boys asked when the church was open
again.  They had travelled down from Sydney to check out the Jesus
apparition.

Derek replied it was open the next morning.  They could try then but
he warned them that there was often a long queue of people waiting to
get in.  The church opened at nine o'clock in the morning, so the
tourists should be there early.

The tourists walked away towards the lych-gate.

Derek followed after Scott into the deepening gloom.


--------------------------------------
Continued in Part 62.
--------------------------------------