The History Speech by Mark Sweet

Author:Mark Sweet
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Huia (NZ) Ltd
Published: 2019-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-six

‘But how will you get home?’ says Edith.

He has asked the Miss Bannisters to take him to the Works.

My Uncle Mo will give me a ride,’ he says. But it’s not his Uncle Mo he wants to see.

He skirts around the edge of the factory building, taking a shortcut to the cattle yards. A siren sounding in three short bursts signals the lunch break. He runs to make sure he catches Tama Edwards before he wanders off to the river. Tama rarely joins the other workers in the cafeteria. He spots him now, already striding across the holding paddock to the river; he disappears down a path between two willow trees.

When he reaches the crest of the path, he sees Tama is taking off his boots. He crouches down and watches as he removes all his clothes. He knows he should look away, that it’s rude to stare, but he’s never seen a grown man so naked as Tama. Jack Barlow was lying down and partially obscured by sheets and his mother’s body when he saw him through the curtain. Occasionally he sees his father in the bathroom after his shower, but his father always quickly grabs a towel to cover up.

Nothing stands in the way of Tama’s nakedness. He stretches out his arms, clasps his hands behind his neck, and lifts his face to the sky as if showing himself to God. He walks into the river, and when the water laps his waist he unfolds his arms, slowly sinking until his head disappears.

Boys at his school shower together after sports, and some boys have big muscles, deepened chests and fully formed cocks and balls, but they are nothing compared to Tama Edwards, whose body seems entirely made of huge, strong, interlocking muscles. He wants to see more, so, under the cover of gorse bushes scattered along the riverbank, he makes his way to where Tama has left his clothes. He scans the water’s surface, up and down the river, but there’s no sign of him. He stands up to get a better view, and as he does, he hears a short, sharp whistle. He swings around, and there, within arm’s reach, stands Tama Edwards.

Tama’s eyes are dark and fierce. His hands are on his hips. ‘You spying on me?’

‘No,’ he says, but he can’t help himself looking between Tama’s legs.

‘What the fuck you looking at?’

‘Sorry,’ he says.

You a perve?’ says Tama.

‘No,’ he says, looking into Tama’s dark eyes. ‘I want you to help me.’

Tama shakes his head. ‘No way. You’re the boss’s son. Now fuck off,’ he says angrily.

He steps backward, out of reach if Tama tries to hit him, and pulls the revolver out of the bag. ‘I want you to help me with this,’ he says, peeling off the muslin cloth. ‘I thought you might know how it works.’

‘Jeez, boy, where’d you get that?’ says Tama, reaching for the gun.

‘It’s my granddad’s, but I can’t see how to put the bullets in.’

Tama paws the revolver and it breaks open.

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