Copyright © 2018-2024 DouglasDD. All Rights Reserved.
CHAPTER 2
AUSTIN
TUESDAY, MAY 27
Austin Richards knocked on his older brother’s door. He knew his brother was in the room because he could hear him playing his new toy, an acoustic guitar.
“Come on in, Austin,” James called out as he continued to play on his guitar.
“How did you know it was me?” Austin asked as he entered the room. James was sitting in a chair near the bedroom window, wearing just a t-shirt and boxers, his usual at-home garb.
“Well, I knew it wasn’t Santa Claus,” James answered. “Mom’s at work, so I guess that leaves you. James and Austin’s father had been killed in an accident at work. While his life insurance payment, workers’ compensation payment, and the money coming in from their mother’s job, kept the boys fed and clothed with a roof over their heads, they barely led a middle-class existence.
“What are you playing?”
“It’s called ‘Leyenda’ by Albeniz,” James answered. “It’s Spanish.”
Austin sat on his brother’s bed. James was sitting on a chair next to his window. “It’s pretty,” Austin said. “You playing that thing sounds weird. You’ve always been on your electric guitar.”
“It’s amazing what a kid can find when his mom drags him to a yard sale to look for kitchen stuff for her and some books for me.” James stopped playing and set the wooden guitar gently on the floor. “Thanks for telling me about Professor Radcliffe. He’s amazing, and me getting six months of free lessons is even more amazing.”
Josh Fielding, Austin’s piano teacher, was a music professor at Western Washington University. When Austin told him about his brother’s amazing find at a yard sale, Josh said he’d ask Radcliffe if he could help James put the guitar into top shape.
Radcliffe, who taught strings, said he’d be more than happy to take a kid away from his electric guitar for a real guitar, even for a short time. It turned out that the relationship would be longer than either Radcliffe or James anticipated.
The Professor sat in a chair next to his desk and strummed the six strings. At thirty-two he was younger than James had expected. He twisted the tuning knobs, strummed some more, twisted some more, and strummed again. Satisfied with his tuning, he played a simple melody. The violin was his primary instrument, but he enjoyed the guitar and was a competent player.
“What did you say you paid for this?” Radcliffe asked James.
“Twenty dollars.”
“Amazing. This a very fine instrument. Ibanez makes a good guitar. This would go for at least four-hundred dollars, new. As shoddy as it looks, this guitar isn’t that old. Some adjustments and some TLC and this can look and sound as good as new.
“How interested are you in adding the acoustic guitar to your electronic guitar world?”
James was stunned to learn he had purchased a valuable instrument. He wanted to learn about playing it and to make it the best instrument possible. James’ late father had instilled his love of music into both of his sons and his mother nurtured it.
“I want to learn it,” he answered.
“I know someone who can return it to its original beauty. Let me have the guitar for a couple of weeks and in return I’ll give you six months of free lessons—providing you promise to be a serious student.”
“You’re on.” James wanted to fist bump the young prof but caught himself in time and held out his right hand for a handshake.
His appreciation for the finer points of music and of playing the guitar had grown by leaps and bounds after his lessons started. His own good fortunes negated his envy over his brother’s good fortune from free lessons to going to a prestigious music camp.
James smiled at his little brother, who he thought was incredibly cute and even sexy, at least in the way a brother can be sexy.
“Anyway, you have a reason for coming to my room, so tell me what you want from me, bro?”
“Nothing much.”
“You’re my little bro, bro. You always want something, even if it’s a lesson on jerking off.”
“I never asked you for that,” Austin protested, but his face turned as red as his hair said otherwise.
“But you never turned it down, either, did ya bro?”
“You like making me embarrassed.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean when I showed you how, you were eleven-and-a-half and never had a clue. It’s something every kid should know, especially if he’s got an older brother ready to show him the ropes.”
“I just came in to show you something.” Austin had a slight whine to his voice. “It’s about the music camp.”
James had been envious of his brother getting a scholarship to go to the Bainbridge Summer Music Camp, but that was before he found the guitar at the yard sale. Professor Radcliffe had been so impressed by James’ playing and dedication that he found him a place at the one-week high school camp in mid-July taking place at the college. James was eligible for a partial scholarship and odd jobs for the music department would allow him to work off the remainder of his tuition.
“A couple of more weeks you’ll be there.” The camp started a week after school ended. “What do you need to know?”
“I got a letter about checking into the dorm on the first day, and what to bring and what not to bring and a special letter to piano students and a page that told me who my roommate is gonna be.”
“Great. Does he sound like he’ll be cool?”
“No. He’s fourteen,” Austin answered gloomily.
“So? I’m fifteen and knowing me hasn’t wrecked your life yet, unless you don’t like jerking off, of course.”
“Stop with the jerking off stuff, okay? This is serious.”
“Sure. Sorry bro, I get carried away, probably because you’re such a hot redhead.”
“Jaaaaaaaames!”
“I’ll shut up now, I promise.”
Austin handed James the form with his roommate information.
Name: William Delacroix
Age: 14
Preferred instrument: piano
School: Bainbridge Music Academy, Paulsbo, Washington
Room: 412
Roommate: Austin Richards
“Why does that name sound familiar?” James asked.
“Have you ever heard of Eugene and David Delacroix?”
“Yeah, they’re concert pianists, right? Father and son, I think. I bet your roommate is related to them.”
“I know he is. I Googled them and they’re his grandfather and father,” Austin said somewhat apprehensively.
“No shit? That’s amazing. You sound kind of nervous about it, bro.”
“That’s because I am. I mean, he’s two years older than me, he’s played in concert with a couple of orchestras, he’s a student at the Academy, his family is famous…think about it, it’s like he’s going to think I’m just an ugly little dweeb who can barely play chopsticks.”
“You worry too much, bro. I bet he’s a good kid who’s just dying to have somebody as cute as you and with your talent as a roommate. Sheesh, as soon as he hears your fingers hit the piano keys he’s going to be in love with you.”
“But, I’m twelve,” Austin said as if hoping his older brother could do something about changing that fact. “I’ve played a couple of solo recitals and a couple of chamber music recitals with other kids at the college—but he’s played with a symphony orchestra. Twelve-year-old kids don’t play with symphony orchestras.”
“Bro, did you leave your brain behind before you came into my room?”
“I know what you’re hinting at, but that’s got nothing to do with this.”
“Just stay on my bed and play with yourself while I go to your room and get what you know I’m going to get.”
“What if I tell you that you can’t go into my room?”
James ruffled his brother’s perpetually uncombed thick red hair. “Try to stop me.” Before Austin could say anything, his brother was gone. Without thinking, his right hand moved to his crotch and he fondled himself through his Dockers, something he often did in private when he was stressed.
Austin heard James return and quickly moved his hand away from himself, but he was a fraction of a second late and James caught the movement.
“Hey, keep your hand down there if it relaxes you, bro. I do the same thing when I get all stressed and shit.” James set a CD next to Austin. The cover had a photograph of a twelve-year-old boy in a scout uniform seated at a piano, his fingers on the keyboard. His brown hair was thick and unruly, much like Austin’s, and came down to his collar.
The cover said, “KISSIN" in red lettering. The Legendary 1984 Moscow Concert”. The CD was a recording of a live concert of pianist Evgeny Kissin playing with the Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra at the Grand Hall of the Moscow Conservatory. The program consisted of not one, but two piano concertos: Piano Concerto Nos. 1 and 2 by Frederic Chopin, the only concertos the great composer wrote.
“He’s twelve, bro, and he sure ain’t no dork. He’s playing with the best. You’re going to that camp so maybe you can do what he did. I mean Josh admits he can’t teach you everything you need to know and that the camp could start taking you to the next level.”
“Kissin is one of the best there is,” Austin pointed out.
“Yeah, whatever. The dude is in his forties now, so he’d better be good. But he was good then, too. Come on bro, there’s a huge reason why that’s your favorite CD and the fact that he’s cuter than hell, while it’s a reason, is not the reason. I know you can tell me what the reason is.”
“Yeah, he totally kicks ass in that concert.” Austin couldn’t help but feel pride in his fellow twelve-year-old, even if he’d performed that concert over thirty years ago.
“There you have it. So quit being a pussy and remember that when you meet with William Delawhoever you might not have world famous parents, but you’re the same age as the dude on that CD. Your goal’s gotta be that the first time he hears you at the piano, your fingers just totally kick ass, just like Kissin. Pick one of his encores to show off. Play so good that your roommate can do nothing but think how good you are.”
Austin had never heard James talk like that to him. Sure, James had been encouraging, but this was the kind of motivational encouragement his teacher Josh Fielding used sometimes, only a hundred times more powerful. “When did you become my cheerleader?”
“Since today, since you needed me bad. Take that CD with you, just to remind you that you might be twelve, but just because you’re twelve doesn’t mean you aren’t awesome.”
Austin took a deep breath. He looked at the CD case in his hand and then across the room at his brother. “I love you, bro,” Austin said sincerely.
“I love you, too. Now, let’s take our pants off and enjoy our bigger and better brotherly love with a nice jerk off session.”
“Yeah, I guess we can do that.” Austin felt more relaxed and loved by his brother than he ever had. He unbuckled his belt, pulled down his zipper, and yanked his pants and underpants off. He then pulled off his t-shirt and joined his older brother who was already naked.
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