Old Valley Road Hotel

Biker ) [ 27 ! ?? ]

---------------------------------------------------------------------- The Old Valley Road Hotel.

By Wombat. ------------------------- Any constructive comments are appreciated. I'm at 'bungala_wombat@yahoo.com.au'. ------------------------------------

Chapter 4. Scott Waits

------------------------------------ Part 27: Home Alone ------------------------------------

Scott Reeves waved as the convoy of vehicles bearing his family off to Queensland drove off down the street. When the last vehicle disappeared from view, he did a little dance and clicked his heels in mid-air. Finally, he was alone at last.

He had some time on his own until Derek returned from South Australia but he looked forward to Derek's return. Derek had sent him one postcard a few weeks ago saying that he would return around about Christmas time. Derek had been really enjoying himself in the time he had away but he gave no details.

Except for Scott, the whole family was going up to stay for Christmas with Scott's mother's big sister, Aunt Rosalind and her husband, Uncle Graham up at Noosa on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland. They were going to be away until the end of January. Five glorious weeks!

They had all gone, his father Max, his mother Veronica, his two elder brothers, Matthew (aged 24) and Robert (22), his two elder sisters, Jacqueline (20) and Catherine (19) and his two younger sisters Rosalind (15) and Susan (12). His grandmother, Max's mother, along with Veronica's eldest brother, Uncle Henry, his wife Aunt Samantha and his daughter Alice, Scott's cousin, had all left with them. Uncle Henry and his family had all driven over from Canberra to stay a few days in Ringtail Springs before starting the thousand-mile (1600- kilometre) trek up to Noosa.

Scott stood quietly, breathing in the cool still air of the early morning. It was about half past six and the sun had risen about an hour before. The shadows were still long. He was alone at last.

He sauntered back up to the house. There were lots of things that he could do but he had all the time in the world. He had already eaten breakfast with his family just before they left.

As Derek's friend Hal had predicted, when Scott had announced his decision to stay behind in Ringtail Springs while the rest of the family went up to Queensland, there had been ructions. His mother was quite angry with him and his grandmother had declared that he was being a silly boy. His father had tried hard to persuade him to change his mind. He had several man to man talks with Scott, putting his arms around Scott's shoulders and telling Scott that he would be missed very much and the family needs to stay together and it would be hard to celebrate Christmas on his own and so on. Scott resolutely refused to change his mind. Robert upset the rest of the family by saying that that they would all be better off without grumpy old Scott tagging along.

Scott's grandmother decided to make the best of things and decided to cook up lots of food for Scott while they were all away. His mother must have felt shamed because she mucked in and helped. Plenty of supplies were bought in to last Scott for much more than the next five weeks. There was plenty of food in the house now to feed Scott even with his enormous appetite.

In the time since Derek and Hal had left for South Australia, Scott had grown considerably stronger and more muscular, thanks to the spell that Hal had cast on him and the tub of super muscle growth enhancer that Derek had given him. He had grown an inch (2.5 cm.) taller to 6' 3" (190 cm.) and was now thirty-five pounds (16 kg.) heavier at 253 pounds (115 kg or 18 stone 1 lb.). His biceps measured 21" (53 cm.) flexed and cold (22" pumped), his chest was 56" (142 cm.) and his waist was 34" (86 cm.).

His shoulders were noticeably wider and more muscular. The trapezius muscles sloped up in a convex curve to his thick powerful neck. His pectoral muscles were thicker and better defined. His arms were thick with bulging, vascular muscles. His powerfully muscled torso sloped from his wide shoulders to his waist in a perfect V. The latissmus dorsi muscles on the sides of his torso were now thick enough to make his big powerful arms hang outwards a little, giving him a tough guy stance. His thighs were magnificent, thickly packed with big, bulging, well-veined muscles. All the muscles on his body were hard, ripped and striated. According to the electronic gym scales, his body fat was 5 percent to the envy of his brothers and father. He had a truly incredible body for a seventeen-year-old.

He had worked hard in the gym, which his father had constructed in their home. It was well equipped. His father was very keen on staying fit and strong and all three of his sons had acquired that keenness. Scott trained five times a week before work and his muscles had grown and strengthened remarkably, particularly in the time since Hal and Derek left. Already he was lifting much heavier weights than his father and older brothers were able to. He was much stronger than them now.

The spell that Hal had cast on him and the tub of super muscle growth enhancer that Derek had given him had indeed worked wonders on his body. Scott had told no one about Hal's spell and he had managed to keep the tub of muscle formula secret and hidden until he had completely finished it off several days ago. Then he had carelessly thrown it away into the rubbish bin in the kitchen. Rob saw it in the bin and was curious about the Chinese characters on the red and gold label. He picked up the empty tub and examined it. He read the label in English and saw that it had contained super muscle growth enhancer that was made by a firm called Long Phat Kok and Company in Singapore. He asked his mother who was working in the kitchen but she knew nothing about it. Matt wandered past with an armful of dirty clothes for the laundry. He did not know about it either. They were all curious. Granny and Rosalind joined the posse because they were curious too. They went to Max's office where Max was finishing off urgent last-minute business matters. Max dismissed them irritably with a negative. The five of them trooped down to Scott's bedroom at the other end of the house. When his mother knocked on his door, Scott opened it. He wore just a pair of tight white football shorts. His muscles bulged powerfully. He looked massive.

Veronica anxiously demanded to know what this super muscle growth enhancer was. Scott explained that Derek had given to him before Derek had left for South Australia and it was to help his muscles to grow. It was quite safe and it did not contain any steroids. He managed to reassure her.

Matt looked at Scott with a mournful smile and said, "You mean you pigged out on this stuff all by yourself and didn't share it with your brothers. Scott, how could you?"

Scott explained that Derek had given him just the one tub and it was to last until Derek returned. Derek had told him it was very expensive but Derek did not need it any more because he was big enough.

"It's no wonder your muscles are so bloody big with all that stuff inside you," commented Rob. "It must be really potent."

Matt looked at the label. "Long Phat Kok, eh! I guess that's why your cock is so bloody big."

He looked meaningfully at the prominent bulge in the front of Scott's football shorts.

"Matthew!" Granny tittered.

Rosalind giggled. Scott blushed.

"Well, this stuff explains why your muscles have grown so big so quickly," declared Veronica. "I'm not sure that it is good for you to take this stuff. I do wish you had seen the doctor before you started on this 'super muscle growth enhancer' stuff. You never know what it might do to you."

"I'm fine, really, Mum," said Scott.

"Mind you, Mum, if I'd known about it, I would have used it too," declared Matt.

At least Matt was honest about it, Scott thought. Rob said nothing.

"Oh, don't!" exclaimed his mother. "Two huge musclemen in this house would be more than enough!"

"If you'd helped yourself, Matt, then it would have lasted only three weeks," said Scott. "That was all I had. There's none left now. Maybe Derek will give me some more when he gets back."

"He could afford to," said Rob. "Rumour has it he's worth heaps of money. Maybe he could give us some too while he's about it."

"Oh, lordy, no!" exclaimed Veronica. "Not the three of you!"

"Oh, Mum, that would be fantastic fun having three huge musclemen as brothers," laughed Rosalind. "I'd always be safe. And lots of girls would have to be nice to me if they wanted to go out with you."

"Scott, do you really want to grow as big as Derek?" asked Veronica.

"Yep, Mum, I do."

Veronica sighed. "Oh, dear. Well, both your father and I think Derek seems a nice man, he's very good looking, but Scottie, don't overdo it and turn into a monster."

"He already is, Mum," laughed Rob.

Since then, the rest of the family teased Scott merrily about his huge muscles and his long fat cock. Rosalind very nearly got a clip over the ear from Scott when she suggested he go and see Jayne Molesworth again and show her his nice long fat cock, but Veronica overheard her and gave her a severe scolding.

Cynthia McBride had broken up the friendship with Jayne Molesworth. They were not even speaking to one another now. The story was that Cynthia blamed Jayne for the black eye that Scott gave her. Jayne had not even been invited to Cynthia's eighteenth birthday party. Rosalind heard all the gossip as she was still at school. She had also gone to Cynthia's party as a partner to one of her male friends.

Now the family had all departed. Scott flexed his arms and tensed his body in a splendid double biceps pose. Nobody was in the street to see it. His big vascular muscles bulged all over and he felt massively powerful. He now had the physique of a champion body- builder. He was much stronger now than his two elder brothers and his father.

That was shown by the affair of Granny's trunk. Granny Reeves had insisted on packing her travelling trunk with all the clothes and things that she would require on her trip north. Max knew it was useless to argue with his mother. It was a massive old ironbound trunk that had come out from Scotland early in the twentieth century and had been in the family since for several generations. It took all the strength of Matt and Rob to carry it from Granny's house to Matt's utility. It needed both of the two young men's strong muscles to lift it into the back of the vehicle.

Granny lived in a cottage in Church Mews next door to the Anglican Church in Ringtail Springs. It was about a mile (1.5 km) away from the Reeves' home.

When they had arrived at the Reeves' house, Scott on his own had lifted Granny's trunk out of the utility and attempted to place it in the capacious boot of Max's big S-class Mercedes-Benz. But the boot of the Benz was not quite big enough to take the trunk and Max got quite agitated when he thought Scott was going to scrape the old ironbound trunk against the gleaming paintwork of the Mercedes. Scott stood there holding the heavy trunk while Max, Granny, Matt and Rob had debated what to do.

"This thing is getting bloody heavy," Scott had said while the others were arguing.

He made his decision and placed the trunk on the tray of Robbie's red utility that was going to Queensland. Max decided that was a good idea and ended the argument.

"Jesus Christ, you're strong, Scott," Matt had commented afterwards. "You're just solid muscle. Fuck, look at those muscles of yours bulge. They're fucking huge. Look at those veins standing out on your arms. They're like cables. I wish I had definition like that. That Long Phat Kok stuff must be incredible. You know it took both Robbie and me to lift that fucking trunk. It weighs a fucking ton with all Granny's junk in it and you just lifted it all by yourself."

Scott grinned appreciatively. His chest swelled. His arms bulged with vascular muscle. He liked Matthew and got on with him a lot better than with his second oldest brother Robert.

Robert's red utility was a new 2001 model Holden Commodore Maloo. It had a 5.7 litre (350 cubic-inch) V8 motor with lots of grunt. It was being packed with all the suitcases and it was towing a twin-axle trailer laden with the camping gear and more suitcases. One attraction of Robert's utility was that it had a red fibreglass tonneau cover that would protect everything packed in the tray.

Max had bought the big silver 1997 Mercedes-Benz S 500 L very cheaply second-hand early that year and he was very proud of his acquisition. It had previously belonged to the mayor of Wagga Wagga. It had cost Max only a fraction of the new price, as it was the superseded model with the windows flush with the bodywork. Its 5-litre V8 motor was very heavy on fuel. It was a big heavy car weighing more than two tons. Scott's eldest sister Jackie had christened it the Teutonic Tank. But it was a very comfortable luxury cruiser with sumptuous white leather upholstery and it had lots of get up and go. Max had been wanting one for years. This was the first time that he was going to drive it up to Queensland.

Granny insisted on riding in the Mercedes-Benz all the way to Noosa. As it was the longer L version, it had lots of room in the back seat and Granny was going to sit in the back. When they all drove off that morning and Granny had waved to Scott from the back seat of the big silver Mercedes, Scott thought she looked just like Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth. All she needed was a tiara.

Susan, Scott's youngest sister was in a snit with Rosalind, Scott's second youngest sister so she refused to sit in the Toyota Tarago along with the other women of the family. Instead she sat next to Granny in the back seat of the big Benz.

Veronica, her three older daughters, her sister-in-law Samantha and her niece Alice all piled into the white 1992 Toyota Tarago people mover. Catherine, Scott's second oldest sister drove. She had christened the Tarago the Space Egg. It did look like a large egg on wheels. It was going to be a lively journey in the Tarago up to Queensland.

Another demonstration of Scott's strength came at the farewell barbecue held two days earlier. Veronica's eldest brother Uncle Henry Houston, Aunt Samantha and cousin Alice had arrived from Canberra the previous day. Also present were Granny Reeves, Sergeant Kym Rowling, Mick and Shirley Shanahan with their four sons Shane, Shaun, Shannon and Shamus, Doug the Thug, Greg 'Leafy' Lane and his widowed mother Amelia Lane, Mrs Wright of the dodgy drains, Percy Plummer the sixty- year-old plumber who worked for Max. Percy's wife came as well. Granny's friends Lavinia Longbottom and Chrissie Watson and a few other friends and people from the Ringtail Springs Shire Council had come along too. They had all eaten well and some had drunk very well.

Rob had had several drinks too many.

"Out of the way, yer fat poofter," he said to Scott.

"Shut yer face, Blondie," replied Scott cheerfully.

Rob took offence. He hated being called 'Blondie' and was strong and aggressive enough to do something about it every time. Few people dared. He gave Scott a painful clip over the ear.

Scott's ear stung. Years of bullying and torment caused him to erupt into a red raging fury. He charged at his brother. He swung his big fist at Rob's head. The punch connected and the force of the blow threw Rob back against some empty chairs, which scattered with a loud clatter. Women screamed.

"Stop it now, you two," bellowed Max. "Stop it at once."

Scott obeyed, halting his advance on the fallen Rob. Rob painfully staggered back to his feet and stood swaying groggily in front of Scott.

"Alright, you little bastard!" Rob sneered. "You're going to get it now. I'm going to beat you to a pulp."

"Robbie, you'll do no such thing," shouted Max. "Stop that right now!"

Rob took no notice of his father. He swung a punch at Scott and missed. Scott immediately unleashed another haymaker. His punch connected with Rob's brow and knocked him flat to the ground. Scott advanced on his brother determined to finish him off.

"Stop him," screamed Granny. "He'll kill him."

Max grabbed Scott in a bear hug and held him tight.

"Scottie, stop it, stop it now," he cried. "Scottie, you mustn't. You mustn't do it. Please stop. Please!" He saw murder in Scott's eyes.

Scott was shocked to the core to see the tears rolling down his father's face. His fury evaporated like a mist in the summer sun.

"OK, Dad," he murmured. "It's all right. I'll stop. I'm OK."

Rob groaned as he lay on the ground.

"It's OK, Dad," shouted Matt cheerfully. "He's still alive."

Rob staggered to his feet once more. Blood poured down his face from a cut to his brow. He advanced towards Scott and his father. His rage burned.

"I'll get you, you little fat poofter," he shouted at Scott.

Immediately he was grabbed by Matt, Shane and Doug. He yelled angrily and incoherently.

"You'll do no such thing, brother," said Matt. "Just look at you. You're a bloody mess, literally."

Kym came and interposed his bulk between Rob and Scott.

"OK, guys, that's enough," he said unnecessarily.

Max leant his head against the big hard muscles of Scott's chest. A few more sobs shook his broad shoulders. His bear hug relaxed as he sensed that Scott's rage had passed.

"Scottie, be careful," he murmured. "I don't ever want to stand over your grave or see you behind bars. You've got to learn to control that temper of yours. Either you'll kill someone or you'll get killed yourself. And you're bloody dangerous with those huge bloody great big strong muscles of yours. I know you've progressed really well with your Uncle Henry in learning how to manage your anger but it's not over yet."

Max went on. "Please don't be like my dead brother, your Uncle Matt. He used to be big and strong but not as big and strong as you are now. He used to be a real fighter and look where it got him, stone cold fucking dead and buried in the ground. The grief killed my father. If Matt hadn't died in Vietnam, he probably would have been killed anyway, or at least ended up behind bars. He had a really violent streak. Please don't be like that. I don't want to see you dead. And I don't want to see you in gaol for the rest of your life because you'd gone and killed someone."

"It's OK, Dad." Scott hugged his father. "I'm over it now."

Meanwhile, the women had taken charge of Robert and he was hustled into the kitchen with blood pouring down his face from the cut over his eye, which was starting to close up. Auntie Sam was a doctor. Her daughter Alice was a doctor as well and she was training to be a plastic surgeon. Shirley Shanahan was a charge sister (nurse in charge of a ward) who worked at the local hospital. Rob was unceremoniously made to lie down on the kitchen table. His aunt and cousin got their doctors bags out and got to work. Alice inserted five small neat stitches into the cut over his eye without anaesthetic. Rob complained and was promptly told to stop being a sook by his aunt. The cut was about a centimetre (half an inch) long but it was deep and bled profusely. Alice was careful to match the edges of the cut skin together and inserted the five stitches to make sure the edges would not move. It was a beautifully sutured wound and it would heal without leaving a scar.

Afterwards, Rob avoided Scott, who quietly relished the victory over his older brother. Rob's eye closed up completely and it had become a real shiner. He spent the rest of the day walking around with a cold pack clasped to his black eye. Rob had to suffer the further humiliation of having his older brother Matt drive Rob's utility up to Queensland because Rob could only see out of one eye. Max had insisted that his son was unsafe to drive a car and he was backed up by his wife, his mother and the other adults in the party. Rob had no choice.

Scott made a point of shaking Rob's hand in farewell. He got the fleeting impression that Rob was starting to have some grudging respect for his little brother. Rob's eye was still black and half- closed. The five neat stitches would stay in for at least another week.

Max and Granny were certain that Scott would have killed Rob in his furious rage if he had not been stopped. Both had seen the murderous hatred in Scott's eyes and both saw the similarity to Scott's dead Uncle Matt. Veronica refused to accept that her youngest son was a potential killer. She had known Max's brother Matt but not very well. She had been a lot younger than Matt.

Scott himself was not certain what he had felt at the time. He remembered the red rage. He wanted to beat Rob to a pulp. He wanted to fix Rob once and for all. He wanted to put a stop for good to the torments and bullying that his brother had inflicted upon him over the years. He wanted to demonstrate his strength and superiority over Rob and fix Rob so that he would never torment Scott again. But he did not think he wanted to kill his brother. His father was insistent that Scott with his great strength could have killed Rob by accident.

Max seemed obsessed by the foreboding that tragedy could befall his family just as it had in the previous generation. And Scott seemed to be the problem child.

Scott knew that his father loved him, as did his mother. Max seemed to go out of his way to reassure Scott that he loved him.

The day after the fight at the barbecue, Scott was chopping wood for the slow combustion stove, which was a massive cast iron appliance that dominated the kitchen. It also doubled as a hot water heater. Scott used to find chopping the wood an onerous chore but now with his newly developed strength he found he quite enjoyed working his powerful muscles as he chopped the wood. The task seemed much easier now. He had taken off his T-shirt and the muscles of his bare sweaty torso and limbs gleamed in the sun. He liked the feel of his muscles working as he drove the sharp axe down to cleave the logs of wood into pieces small enough to fit in the firebox of the stove.

Most of the rest of the family were busy doing the final packing for the trip. They were leaving early the following morning.

Uncle Henry sauntered up to the wood heap where Scott was chopping the firewood. He sat down on a thick log. Uncle Henry was a plump bespectacled man with greying dark hair thinning on top and a grey full-face beard. Granny had described her daughter-in-law's brother as having a well-upholstered physique like a comfortable arm chair. He was a friendly looking man.

Dr Henry Houston was a psychologist who was a Ph.D. in clinical psychology. He had a thriving practice in Canberra, Australia's national capital. He was in his mid fifties and was ten years older than his sister, Veronica, Scott's mother. She was the youngest in their family and he was the eldest. They got on very well together.

Uncle Henry was seeing Scott professionally at Scott's mother's request to help manage his outbursts of anger. It had started when some months ago Scott had given Cynthia McBride a black eye when she had teased him horribly about his failure to have an erection when he was trying to have sex with Cynthia's friend Jayne Molesworth. Cynthia's father, George McBride, had wanted to press assault charges against Scott but Sergeant Kym Rowling had talked him into accepting a deal where Scott would receive training in anger management from a qualified psychologist. Veronica had nominated her brother, Dr Henry Houston. She knew that he had a lot of experience in helping stressed out politicians, public servants and business persons manage their anger. He was very good at it. Scott had being seeing him once a week for nearly six months now. He had a lot of issues to sort out.

Scott had still been expelled from high school for punching Cynthia in the face but at least he had escaped criminal charges. Life did not get better when he left school because Max had immediately put his son to work as a casual labourer in his plumbing business. Scott worked hard digging ditches, digging up blocked drains, mixing and carting concrete, bending pipes and all sorts of other hard mucky jobs. He had little spare time and was tired out at the end of each day.

Now Scott was much bigger and stronger.

"You're really getting into chopping that firewood up, aren't you, Scottie" commented Uncle Henry as he sat on the log watching Scott.

Scott smiled as he continued chopping. "It's not as hard as it used to be."

"You know, you have a truly magnificent body with those splendid great big hard muscles of yours. You are a splendid sight indeed and you are very good-looking. I think you are the best looking of your brothers and that's saying something because all three of you are very handsome."

Scott looked at his uncle quizzically. Surely Uncle Henry was not about to make him an indecent proposal, not after all this time and in the backyard at home. He thought of all the sessions he had spent in his uncle's consulting rooms. There were plenty of opportunities. But surely Uncle Henry was not that way inclined. He was happily married to Aunt Samantha. Scott had told his uncle as well as Derek and Hal that he was gay but the thought of sex with a man much older than himself repelled him. And Uncle Henry was plump and greying.

Uncle Henry continued on unperturbed. "There are many men who would cheerfully sell their souls to the Devil to have a body like yours, Scottie."

Scott smiled wryly. "Would you sell your soul to the Devil for a body like mine?"

"Absolutely not. I wouldn't on principle. My soul is far too valuable."

Scott laughed. His uncle was playing one of his psychological games again.

"Uncle Henry, how do you know you've got a soul?" he asked playfully.

"I just know I have a soul."

"I don't know if I've got a soul," replied Scott.

"Well that's something we can explore in our sessions next year. But I'm sure that you do have a soul."

"What's a soul?"

Uncle Henry raised his eyebrows and smiled wryly. "Well, that is a question that has engaged philosophers, thinkers and theologians for many centuries. Nobody can give a definitive answer to that question. You could ask any number of theologians and philosophers and they will all give you different answers."

"That doesn't tell me a thing."

"OK, here goes then," said Uncle Henry. "My own personal view of what a soul is and I'm pretty sure this is not an orthodox Christian viewpoint, but who cares? There's plenty of room for different views, especially in the Anglican Church. My view is that the soul is the essential You. It is that which looks out through your eyes and sees. It is that which listens when you hear. It is that which thinks your deep thoughts. It is that which creates the thoughts you verbalise when you speak. It is that which plans and executes your actions when you are not acting instinctively. It is the essential You that which drives your mind and your body when you want to and not be on autopilot. It is the part of you that can be immortal and indestructible. It is that which can form a relationship with God if you want to."

"How can a soul be immortal? How does it live on after you die?"

"Hoowee! You do ask the difficult questions!" Uncle Henry grinned. "I'll try answering that with another of my own theories."

"Go ahead."

"A soul is a bit like a computer program. It's like the software running in the 'hardware' that is your brain. You know how you install the program from a CD-ROM and back up all your data on a floppy disk? If you have a fit of temper and put an axe through your computer..."

Scott grinned at the thought.

Uncle Henry continued. "You can restore the program and the data from the backups and you can continue from where you left off on another computer as if nothing had happened. The soul is like the program and data in your brain. What I am saying is that the soul does not necessarily need the hardware of your body to run. It can exist independently, like a program and data kept on a disk. If you believe in reincarnation, then you could say that your soul is restored into another different body. I can't truly say whether or not reincarnation happens. Orthodox Christians say it doesn't happen. Maybe God keeps the soul somehow and sets it running again when He wants to. I don't know. But I am prepared to say that it is perfectly possible for a soul to live on after the death of the physical body."

"It's a bit hard to wrap my mind around that," said Scott.

"A few years ago I received a Christmas card from a dear friend of mine who is a model train nut. He has a model railway layout that completely fills his basement and he builds his own railway engines and rolling stock. The card showed a bearded and bespectacled Father Christmas with flowing white hair and he was dressed in red, green and white striped overalls like an engine driver. He was holding a model steam engine in one hand and was twiddling in its innards with a screwdriver. He was looking directly at the artist. What struck me was his wise, knowing, kindly and amused expression. I suddenly thought that's not Father Christmas, that's God. It occurred to me that the model train engine is a metaphor for the human soul. When a person dies, his soul is, like inspected by God, judged if you like. If it is interesting, if it's good enough, God keeps it and runs it around the Heavenly railway layout, as it were. God may choose to redesign a soul or He may choose to tweak some of the soul's parameters. Anyway He may choose to create a new version of a soul and insert that soul into a newborn baby, then He will see how that soul grows and faces the challenges of life as a human being. They have trials to undergo, obstacles to overcome and/or tasks to perform. Those souls who perform well, like live their lives lovingly, gracefully, courageously, bravely, diligently, truthfully, fairly and who do good are pleasing to God. Those who win through, overcome the obstacles, win the trials or complete their tasks satisfactorily are pleasing to God. They go to Heaven. And God will keep fiddling and tweaking human souls as he continuously strives for improvements. It sounds like reincarnation, I know, but it's reincarnation with modification."

"That makes us sound like robots," remarked Scott.

"Well, no. We are like robots or little furry animals compared to the Almighty, Omnipotent and Omniscient God. However, we humans do have free will, which the Lord God has bestowed upon us. Free will is an essential part of all this. At all times we have the choice whether or not we continue on our divinely ordained career. We face the temptation to drift away, to fall by the wayside, to yield ourselves up to earthly pleasures to the extent we lose our way and our place in the Divine Plan. We can choose what we want to do. God is continually looking for improvement in the human soul until finally there evolves a race truly worthy to serve Him."

"I believe that if God were not interested in us, He would have wiped us out like He wiped out the dinosaurs. Souls that do not fulfil their divine expectations are recycled, or reincarnated, into this plane of existence with or without further modification by God. If a soul is most displeasing to God, that is, the soul is truly evil, then He may destroy or erase it, or give it to Satan as a plaything, or cast it into the outer darkness. He may keep a soul in a state of suspension like the Limbo that Catholics believe in. But a soul he finds interesting, he will tweak and improve and keep trying it out in different situations. Well, that's my theory anyway."

"Oh, right." Scott kept on chopping the firewood. "So how do you know I've got a soul?"

"I can see it in your eyes," replied Uncle Henry. "I can tell by your actions. You are thoughtful and considerate of other people pretty well most of the time. I know you love the other members of your family, deep down really. I can see that you have a soul, Scottie. I've been around long enough to know when someone does not have a functioning soul. I can see when someone is soulless. They have what I call dead eyes. They are people I would prefer not to associate with if I can avoid it. However, I have some as clients so I work with them as best I can. What distinguishes soulless people is that they do not care how their actions affect other people. They have no consideration of other people. They are utterly selfish and have no compunction in damaging or destroying other people to satisfy their own selfish wants. They are the heedless exploiters, predators if you like. And they're incapable of real love. You are most definitely not one of those people, Scottie. You do have a soul. That comes through loud and clear."

"Thanks for the compliment," Scott said with a wry grin.

"That's not a compliment. It's true."

"Thanks, anyway."

"Now, where was I before I got sidetracked?" laughed Uncle Henry.

"We were talking about my body. You said that many men would sell their souls to the Devil to have a body like mine."

"Oh, yes, thank you. You are a big powerful man, Scottie," said his uncle. "People admire men like you. They admire your fantastic body, your big powerful muscles and your considerable strength. They expect you to be a real man, a big tough he-man. People will look to you for leadership. People will want a big man to look out for them. What do you think about that, Scottie?"

Scott said nothing as he vigorously hewed the log of wood into pieces with his axe. This was uncomfortable and heavy territory. Uncle Henry was raising issues that Scott did not want to think about. There was an uncomfortable silence while thoughts whirled around Scott's brain. He did not know how to answer his uncle.

"Scottie," Uncle Henry said gently. "You have this magnificent physique with great big powerful muscles. You look like a really big and tough alpha male and you are seventeen years old. Inside that magnificent muscular body of yours is still a little boy. And often he is a frightened little boy. Am I right, Scottie?"

"Dunno," muttered Scott curtly. He stopped chopping the wood and glared at his uncle. "What do you want me to say?" he growled.

Uncle Henry looked up at Scott and smiled sweetly. He was not the least bit afraid. "When I saw you knock your brother down at the barbecue yesterday, I saw an angry frightened little boy lashing out at his tormentor using all the power at his disposal. That little boy has a lot of power at his disposal now. He is in command of a tremendously powerful body with huge muscles, a body that could easily kill someone now. Your body could fracture Robbie's skull with a single punch. It is very easy for you to kill someone now."

"Don't I fucking know it!" growled Scott angrily. "I've had bloody Dad and Mum at me about it and bloody Granny at me too! Don't you start on me too! I'm not going to kill Robbie."

Tears of anger and despair prickled in Scott's eyes. Suddenly he felt desperately unlovable.

"I know," said Henry.

He got up and put his arm around Scott's massive shoulders.

Henry sighed and continued. "Your Dad is desperately worried that you might kill someone and get into big trouble or get killed yourself. He begged me to have a talk with you. He seems to think that he can't get through to you. He loves you very much and he is terrified of losing you. He sees in you the similarity to his late brother and he does not want to go through the grief of losing you like he did when he lost his brother."

"But I'm not fucking Uncle Mattie!" exclaimed Scott angrily.

"I know that. You're a lot better looking and a lot stronger that he was. But superficially you do look alike and you have a fiery temper like he did. He was real trouble, that boy. His father often used to thrash him mercilessly - in fact you could hear the boy's screams all over town - but that made no difference at all. In fact I seriously think it made Mattie worse. The thrashings only stopped when Mattie knocked his father unconscious when he was eighteen. I'm pleased to say that your parents have a much more enlightened approach to discipline. Mattie was a real ratbag. He was always in trouble. I knew him well. At school he was often very rude to me although I was three years older. He used to call me Professor Pooh-pants and worse. He could always outrun me and when he grew bigger, he could easily beat me up in a fight. Even as a kid he was very strong. As you can guess, I didn't like him. I got on a lot better with your father. Max was a good kid. He hardly got into trouble at all, not like his older brother. I got to know Max quite well, particularly when he started coming around to see my little sister Veronica. I liked Max then and I still do, a lot. I suspect he's a lot brighter that Mattie was. He did very well at school. I think he even wanted to go to University but I can't really remember what he wanted to do there. I've got a feeling he wanted to do something like civil engineering. However, he did not get the chance. Mattie was killed in Vietnam when he was only twenty years old. Max was still at school then. He was only sixteen when Mattie was killed. Max had to leave school and become a plumber's apprentice to his father. Then two and a half years later, Robbie Reeves Senior suddenly dropped dead with a massive heart attack. Max was only nineteen when he was left without a father. He finished off his apprenticeship with Percy Plummer, married my little sister and became the successful man he is today."

"Thanks for the family history," said Scott with a wry smile.

"I apologise. I did get off the track a bit. The point is that you are quite different in temperament to your Uncle Mattie. You have quite a sweet nature, which is something I hardly ever saw in Mattie. I enjoy working with you. I do find you very interesting and you are a lot less difficult than the majority of my clients. I certainly don't think you are a killer by nature and I shall tell your parents that."

"Thanks." Scott smiled shyly.

"You've grown into a lovely young man. You do have a fire in your belly but that is not a bad thing provided that you keep it under control. You have to grow into that magnificent body of yours. I suspect that you will have to grow up rather fast. The time that you will be left alone here when we're all gone is an excellent opportunity for you to think hard about the things we talked about. I hope you find it useful. I wonder if you could benefit from someone teaching you the arts of manhood, someone other than your father; he's your father and must be father to his six other children as well. And certainly..."

"Is that because I'm the odd one out?" Scott interrupted him.

"We have discussed this before and we can certainly discuss it again when I see you next year if you want."

"You know what I mean," said Scott. "My two older brothers Mattie and Robbie are a pair. My two older sisters Jackie and Katie are a pair. Then there's me on my own. Then there's my two younger sisters Rosie and Susie. I don't have a pair. I'm on my own. I'm the odd one out."

"You are the singleton. By accident of birth you are the boy between four girls. That gives you the opportunity to be independent and strong. You don't have to depend on your younger or older sibling. You can be sufficient unto yourself. You are in a better position to grow than any of your brothers or sisters. You are in a position of strength. Both your parents love you, I know that, but they have to spread themselves over their seven children. Your father cannot concentrate entirely on you. That's why I suggest you find another man to teach you the arts of manhood. Certainly not I because I am your psychologist. That is something for you to think about."

"That doesn't mean I'm all that happy about it," said Scott

"You're the singleton, the odd one out. You feel alone although you are part of a very large family. Because you are starting to learn to draw on your own resources, you have the potential to become what I call a solitary giant. You could be a big man in the fullest sense of the word. You could become an independently thinking man capable of great things. You could well be a leader of men, as you will have learnt to think for yourself and not be a follower."

"That's a nice thought," said Scott sarcastically.

"No, I'm serious, Scottie. The solitary time you will have here after we've all gone up to Queensland is an opportunity to grow into that role and come to know what it means to be a solitary giant. I know what it's like to be lonely and unusual. I was eight years old when my father became the priest-in-charge of St. Aidan's parish here and we all moved here to Ringtail Springs. We came here before your mother was born; she was born at the hospital here in Ringtail Springs. I was this soft bookish kid from Sydney who had to wear glasses and I was thrown in amongst all these strong tough country boys at the primary school. I was a complete duffer at sport. I could not hit a ball to save myself and I couldn't run very fast. I was very bright, always top of the class, and the teachers liked me so I was always being teased by the other kids. In fact some of the kids like your Uncle Mattie used to bully me a lot. Mattie was three years younger than me but he was a really big tough kid and I was just a joke, a punching bag. I had no real friends. Your father was nice to me though. He was a good kid but he was a lot younger than me. Dad couldn't help me much. He was too busy being the good parish priest looking after his flock. He did not have a lot of time to spend with me. He did not realise at the time that it was very hard for me at school to be the parson's son. It was a relief to go to boarding school in Canberra. So I just had to learn to develop my own resources and rely on just myself. You, of course, Scottie, have always been big and strong. You're very good at sports and most people your age have at least a grudging respect for you. At least they keep out of your way. You're a fiery, feisty young lion with a lot of spirit. You can learn to develop your own resources too. And I will help you all I can."

Uncle Henry gave Scott's shoulder a friendly squeeze.

"You're a lovely bloke," he continued. "I like you. I'll tell your father that and also we've had an enjoyable little chat."

With that, Uncle Henry sauntered off down the yard towards the house with his hands in his pockets. He whistled a jolly melody from a Mozart opera. Scott looked down the slope at the receding man with a smile. He liked Uncle Henry a lot. His mood lifted and he set about chopping the wood with vigour. He thought about Derek and Hal. Maybe one of them could teach him the arts of manhood.

It was quiet now that the family had departed. Scott stood alone in the street outside the front of the house. He had a good view across the town of Ringtail Springs. He could see the houses and buildings lit by the early morning sun. A gentle breeze rustled in the jacaranda trees lining the street. The trees were in full bloom with bright purple flowers. A sparrow chirped. A kookaburra laughed in the distance and was answered by one still further away. Their calls echoed across the town. It was a lovely morning and the day was going to be hot.

Scott thought about what Uncle Henry had said and the events of the past few days. People appreciated his magnificently muscled body and his great strength. But then Granny had said that he was still a boy in a man's body. Silly old bitch, he thought.

Scott entered the house and closed the front door. He stripped off his black T-shirt and stood in front of the hallway mirror admiring his powerful body. It was well tanned from working in the sun. He ran his hands sensuously over the great big thick muscles of his torso. He felt good, really good and really hot. His blue eyes looked out from under his black curly hair. He was very good looking. Uncle Henry was right. He stripped off his shorts and stood in front of the full-length mirror naked except for the runners on his feet. God! He looked really hot and sexy. Grrrr! He flexed his arms into a spectacular double biceps pose and all his well-veined muscles bulged hugely. His biceps were 22 inches when pumped and hot. They were mighty. Scott raised his right arm and sensuously kissed the peak of his huge biceps muscle. He was hot!

His cock stiffened into a full erection. The foreskin slid back, exposing the cock head. Scott handled his cock lovingly. It was a really nice big uncircumcised cock, truly a long fat cock. It had grown a little more in size since Derek and Hal had left over six weeks ago. It was now 10.6 inches (27 cm.) long and the shaft was 2.25 inches (5.7 cm.) thick. He rubbed it more enjoying the feel of his hand on his cock. He did not touch his exquisitely sensitive cock head. He stopped when he felt the pressure rising in his groin. A few drops of precum leaked from the end of his cock and Scott smeared them gingerly over his cock. He did not want to come all over the hall carpet. He was really hot and horny and he was going to spend some time pleasuring himself really nicely. His balls felt hot and heavy. They had grown bigger too and were now the size of duck eggs. They were really big, fat and heavy now.

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wanted to do this masturbation properly. He had been planning it for several weeks.

Scott found his father's digital projector in his father's office and took it to his bedroom. His powerfully muscled body felt really good as he enjoyed the forbidden pleasure of walking naked around the family house. When he entered the wing of the house where his bedroom was, he increased the thermostat setting to 25 degrees (Celsius - 77 deg Fahrenheit). He liked being warm and he discovered he enjoyed not wearing clothes on his magnificent body.

At the foot of his bed he set the projector on the floor pointing up vertically so that it would project the screen image on the white ceiling over Scott's bed. Then he plugged it into the second video outlet of his personal computer (PC).

Scott had his bedroom on his own in the west wing of the house. By unforeseen circumstances, he had the entire western end of the house to himself. Next to his wing was the guest wing with four currently empty bedrooms. The Reeves' house was a large spreading ranch-style house; it had twelve bedrooms. Max had built it to accommodate his large family as well as their friends and Veronica's brothers and sisters who would come and stay bringing their families. Next to the house on the same block of land Max had built a two-bedroom granny flat for his mother. However, when the time came for everyone to move in to the new house, Granny had flatly refused to leave her cottage in Church Mews next to the church. She had moved to the cottage when the previous house became too small to fit both her and Max's growing family. The move to the new house occurred twelve years ago; Scott was five years old then. The granny flat remained empty for several years except for guests until Matt and Rob were able to persuade their parents to allow them to move in there.

Scott was left on his own in the west wing. He enjoyed the privacy. He really liked having the bathroom all to himself. It was intended to be shared by the occupants of the other two bedrooms in the wing. However, it had a door that opened directly into Scott's bedroom. Scott kept the door into the hallway locked and treated it as his personal en suite bathroom.

When he stood up after plugging the projector into the back of his PC and switching on all the equipment, his rectum felt full. Good! It'll need to be emptied for his next trick. He took off his runners and socks and padded into his bathroom naked.

-------------------------------- Continued in Part 28. --------------------------------