Oliver of the Adirondacks
by Dashiell Walraven
Chapter 16
The orgy of feasting and gift giving that was Christmas night at the lodge, gave way to quiet as we herded the younger kids off to bed. To be truthful, my eyes felt sandy with fatigue; even though I wanted to stay up and re-read the manual for my new telescope once more, I knew sleep would come soon. Most of the boys, were already in their pajamas, back from the bathroom, in their bunks and drifting off to sleep. I decided on wearing a long night-shirt, this becoming my preferred sleepwear since I could wear nothing else and still maintain modesty. Neal remained in the bathroom where I left him wrestling, as he put it, with the great brown python. I swear he made me smile just thinking about him.
"Hey Oliver," said Eddie from the other side of the room, "can you come here for a second?"
"Sure," I said, wandering over to his bunk, yawning and scratching my butt, "what's up?"
"Uhm..." he faltered, "I just wanted say sorry for not taking that kid to the bathroom. I was sorta having a problem myself."
"Oh?" I said, feigning complete ignorance.
"Yeah," he said in a not-so-subtle stage-whisper, "I uh... I had a hard on."
"Oh, I see," I said sagely, "that happens, I guess."
"You ever get one?"
"Yeah, sure," I shrugged, "all the time."
"I couldn't help it," he said, "I was lookin' at Lizzie's boobs and the next thing I know..." I snorted quietly and nodded my understanding.
"You remember how to take care of that, right?" I asked.
"Yeah, yeah," he waved at me dismissively, "did that a couple of minutes ago."
"Here?" I asked, "in front of the other kids?"
"Naw," he grinned "while everybody was in the shower." Eddie shook his fist in the well-known, universal signal. "Didn't take very long." Again, I snickered; Eddie did too, blushing furiously.
"Okay, I hope you didn't make a mess."
"I don't mess yet, but someday soon I think," he said seriously. I stood there looking at him; it felt like he had something else to say. "Hey Oliver," he started up again, "I wonder what it feels like."
"What?"
"You know," he said, "to have sex."
"Oh."
"You know, to put your thing in, what it's like." My butt involuntarily clenched as I remembered the delicious sensation of Neal slowly entering me, and the monumental climax to which we both ascended. Eddie brought me back to reality by asking, "Oliver, have you ever had sex with anybody?" I looked at him blankly, feeling the color rise in my face. He gasped almost girlishly and covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed, a little too loudly for my comfort.
"Shush Eddie," I snapped, "geez-Louise!" I looked around, panicked he might have awakened some of the boys.
"You HAVE," Eddie said, lowering his voice back to a husky whisper, "holy cow..." I stood there, fear roiling in my belly, sure he'd figured Neal and me out.
"Eddie, I uh...," I faltered, "listen, it's not what..."
"Was it her?" he interrupted, "was it Lizzie-B? Oh my God, you did it with Lizzie!" He looked insanely jealous for a moment, but I was glad he had not discerned my secret. "Oh man, I can't wait to find out what it feels like." I allowed myself a small chuckle in my relief.
"Eddie," I reassured him, "you'll do it when you're ready."
"Yeah but," he gathered his blanket up under his chin in tight fists, "I'm totally ready now, and I just gotta find a girl who is ready too. Dang it! I'm hard again." He pulled back his blanket and showed me his skinny penis standing straight up in the air before quickly covering it up again.
"Eddie, honestly," I started, but he interrupted me again.
"Hey Oliver," he lowered his tone to a complete, hissing whisper, "does anything happen after having sex for the first time? A friend of mine said it changes you somehow."
For a moment, I stared at Eddie, utterly clueless as to what to say, when a wicked impulse came to my mind. Knowing full well I shouldn't do this supremely evil thing, I slowly lifted the hem of my nightshirt just high enough for Eddie to see my flaccid penis, foreskin and all. The precious look on Eddie's face made me smirk as he fixed his gaze on my dick. Tentatively, he automatically reached out, almost touching it before pulling his hand back like he had been slapped.
"What the...?" he gawped in wonderment, "It's all pointy!"
"Naw, look," I said, skinning the foreskin back, "it's just like yours, just with extra skin on it." Eddie tossed his covers back and immediately began comparing our two members.
"Gee willikers," he almost moaned, "why does that happen?"
"Dunno," I shrugged. At that moment, Neal sauntered around the bunks, his hair wet, a towel wrapped around his waist.
"What's going on?" he said lightly, "show and tell time?" Neal watched Eddie's eyes darting back and forth between our two penises, and then raised an eyebrow to me. He gave me a questioning look as if to ask if I was messing with Eddie. I discretely nodded, and Neal indicated he understood.
"I told him the secret," I said.
"Oliver," he deadpanned, following my lead, "that's against the rules..." Eddie, broke his reverie as I dropped the hem of my shirt back to my knees.
"Don't be mad at him Neal," he said earnestly, "I made him tell me, I know he shouldn't have told but I had to know and besides, I'm gonna be having sex soon because I can almost squirt and I get hard all the time every time I think about doing it or even looking at a girl, because I'm always thinking about girls and how they look when they don't have clothes on or if they swim in the water without a bathing suit with the water running down and..."
"Eddie, take a breath buddy," Neal counseled, "I get it. I'm not mad at Oliver, but now that you know, you have to promise to never tell other boys the secret. They're supposed to find out the same way that we did."
"Huh?" gasped Eddie, "you too?" Neal said nothing further; he just pulled edge of the towel aside and let Eddie gawk at his own, uncut dick. Eddie about near died.
"Whoa," he breathed in absolute awe, "You got a skin too..."
"Well, "Neal shrugged, letting the towel fall back into place, "at least now you'll know if you see anybody with one of these..."
"That means they've had sex too..." Eddie breathed, heaved a great sigh and lay back on his bunk, "I can't wait to get a skin of my own."
"Good night, Eddie," I said quietly. Snickering to ourselves, we left Eddie to absently stroke his slender penis under the blanket. We climbed into our own bunks and listened to hear Eddie urgently huff out another quickie before his breathing became slow and steady. I clicked on a flashlight and started to read my telescope manual once more, soaking up the words as if reading them for the first time. I could scarcely believe I could be the owner of such a fine instrument; I couldn't wait to take it outside and peer at the stars.
Glancing over to Neal, I saw him already sleeping. His face looked positively angelic in the dim light; my heart felt near to bursting. I wanted to climb in, wrap my arms around him, listen to his soft breathing, and smell that delicious place just behind his ear. The urge to use the toilet overrode the impulse, so I jumped from the bunk and made a quick dash down to the bathroom. On the way back, I saw my father alone in the great room, stoking the embers in the fireplace. I decided to go down to see what he was up to.
"Oh, hey Oliver-Tolliver," he smiled he saw me coming down the stairs, "What's going on, you still up?" I shrugged and stood next to him by the fire as he poked another log into it. Flames began to crackle and leap once more.
"Just had to use the bathroom," I said, "guess I wanted to see what you were doing."
"Oh nothing," Dad sighed, settling into a sofa and patting the cushion, "quite a day, wasn't it."
"Yeah," I said quietly, "Probably the worst and best Christmas I ever had."
"You and me both, Bud," Dad sighed again. "Hey listen, I wasn't gonna tell you tonight, because I thought you were already asleep, but I got a call from Garrett's parents."
"Really?" I perked up.
"Yes. They got him to Albany Medical Center okay, and he underwent surgery to fix his legs, because they were pretty badly broken." I nodded. "He also had a pretty bad knock on the head, and he hasn't woken up from that yet."
"Is he gonna die?" I asked in barely a whisper.
"I don't know son," he said evenly, "probably not. I hope you understand though that there is a chance he won't be the same, you know, if and when he wakes up. He's in a coma and you can never know for certain about such things." My head lolled forward, a few tears spilled from my eyes and fell noiselessly into my lap. Slowly, I laid my head down on Dad's lap; he stroked my head and neck.
"Dad?"
"Yes Oliver."
"Nuffin'" I said after a long pause.
"Oliver listen," he said, soothingly, "You know I don't go in for all this God and Jesus claptrap, but if there is a God, he's surely looking out for Garrett right now."
"Yeah, I know Dad," I said, "but I hope God is there, on account of I really want Garrett to be okay."
"That's fine," he answered, "I even found myself saying a prayer for him." His fingers idly scratched my skull through my hair, "and for you too, Oliver."
"Really? Why?"
"Because I know how like an older brother Garrett has been to you. When Mom and I found we couldn't have another child, we both mourned the fact that you'd be alone in the family. Garrett came around and just seemed to take to you, and you to him. It was almost like this mystery God of ours had it planned all along. Seeing how you look up to him, and how much you hurt for him now, it makes my heart ache for the both of you." Even as I lay on his lap, I put a comforting hand on his knee.
"I don't want you to hurt for me Dad, I'll be okay."
"I know you will son," he said, reassuringly, "you have such a strong heart; I am not worried for you. I heard once that a boy's pain is felt five times; once by the boy and then twice more by each of his parents. Only now do I understand the full truth of those words." Dad continued rubbing my back; I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "I'm so glad you have Neal. He's a very special friend to you."
"Uh huh," I muttered, nodding.
"We seriously need to get you a haircut," he chuckled warmly, "or people are gonna start telling me what a beautiful daughter I have."
"Dad!" I laughed, pounding my fist into his knee.
"Ow, ow, okay," he laughed, "just kidding!" I sat up; as usual, he mussed my hair.
"What is it with everybody messing up my hair?" I protested in mock anger.
"It's just so..." Dad said, doing it again, "mess-able." I shook my hair away from him, trying to comb it back down with my fingers.
"I want my hair cut like Neal's," I said, "his hair never gets screwed up when people do that to him."
"We can try," he said, doubtfully, "but your hair is very fine where Neal's is very thick and brushy."
"It's not brushy," I said, "It's amazingly soft; just short, is all." Dad looked at me quizzically for a moment, but then shrugged his shoulders.
"Fine, we'll give it a try; I've got those barber clippers that Mom uses on me. How about we take a crack at it in the morning."
"Can we do it now Dad?" I pleaded.
"Aw Oliver," he protested, "I'm tired. C'mon, tomorrow..."
"Dad, please?" I pushed out my lower lip comically. He looked at me for a beat, and then shrugged.
"Fine," he said, "Let's get this done."
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