Old Valley Road Hotel

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

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

Chapter 7 'A Rainy Day' Part 3

------------------------------------ Part 63: The Image ------------------------------------

Helen Hamilton-Forbes sat bolt upright in bed. She was sure she had heard something.

She had not been sleeping well. It was a hot night. She was wearing a light nightdress and had just a sheet over her. The master bedroom of the rectory was in darkness. The noisy air-conditioner in one of the windows was struggling to keep the bedroom acceptably cool.

Somehow she had managed to get to sleep over the continuous chugging, rattle and whirr. But something had woken her up.

She listened. However, she could hear nothing over the noise of the air-conditioner.

There it was again, the noise. It sounded like screaming and yelling but it was barely audible over the air-conditioner.

She got up out of the double bed and padded barefoot over to the windows. She parted the curtains and looked out. The church was a blaze of light. It looked like every light in the place had been switched on. That should not be happening, not at this time of night.

She looked at her husband. He was sound asleep, snoring softly in the double bed.

He was clad in pyjamas and had a blanket over him.

He frequently complained that she wanted the bedroom kept too cold. However, he had no difficulty in getting to sleep, even in this hot weather.

Helen turned on the bedside lamp and bent over him.

"Julian, Julian," she said. "Julian, wake up. There's something going on inside the church. The lights are all on and I can hear noises."

The Reverend Julian Hamilton-Forbes woke up. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes sleepily. He grumbled as he groped around on the bed- side table and found his spectacles. He put them on and glared at his wife.

"I'm wondering if some people have broken into the church and are having a party in there," she said anxiously. "God knows what sacrilegious things they're doing in there. Perhaps you should go and investigate."

Julian got up and looked out the bedroom window. He saw the light streaming from the church windows. It was lit up like an ocean liner at night.

"Hmm, I think you're right," he declared. "The lights are indeed all on. It's gone quiet now. I can't hear anything. There could be quite a lot of people there. Perhaps I should call the police."

Julian was very conscious of his small stature and thin build. He was physically no match for most men. Even his wife was taller than he was.

"Sergeant Rowling has gone away on holidays and it'll take ages before any policemen get here from Gundagai, especially at this time of night and this time of year," said Helen. "You could always take Paul. He's such a big strong young fellow. You know what he's like on the football field. Not many people would want to take on a big strong aggressive young rugby player."

"OK," grumbled Julian.

He put his woollen dressing gown on over his brown and white striped pyjamas and put on his slippers. He picked up his electric torch and trudged out of the master bedroom down the hallway to his son's bedroom.

He did not need this to happen just before his and Helen's trip to New Zealand. Helen's sister Deirdre, a librarian at the library of the University of Otago in Dunedin had invited the two of them to come and stay with her. Helen and Julian would be there for three whole weeks. Deirdre was taking holidays early in the New Year and the three of them were going to tour around the South Island of New Zealand. The only engagements Julian had before then were the New Year's Day service and the McBride's New Year's Eve party to which he, Helen and their son Paul had been invited. The party was a royal command performance. He and Helen could not refuse the invitation from George and Myrtle McBride. Julian was looking forward to the New Zealand trip very much.

Paul slept in what had been the cook's bedroom, a spacious bedroom at the other end of the house. In the old days when clergymen could afford to keep servants, good cooks were hard to come by in rural Australia and they merited well-appointed accommodation. The rectory had been built in the optimistic days of the nineteenth century.

Julian saw a light shining from under Paul's bedroom door. He heaved a sigh of relief. Paul was still awake.

Paul was the only one of Helen and Julian's three children at home for these Christmas holidays.

Julian knocked on the bedroom door. There was what sounded like a flurry of activity on the computer keyboard inside.

"Probably looking at porn," Julian thought sourly to himself.

Soft footfalls sounded and Paul opened the door. His broad-shouldered muscular frame filled the doorway. His short straight untidy blond hair shone like a golden aura in the light behind him. He was wearing just a skimpy white pair of football shorts that had a prominent bulge in the front. His skin was shiny with sweat. His eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw his father.

"What's up, Dad," he asked.

Julian explained that there was something going on inside the church and he needed Paul to come with him to investigate.

Paul gave a wry smile. "Sure. I'll just go get some boots on."

Julian followed Paul into the bedroom. The bedside light was on as was the desk light over the computer. The windows were wide open to the darkness outside. Some large insect was banging repeatedly on the flyscreens protecting the windows. The computer screen showed what looked like an Australian National University sporting site, all very innocent.

It was hot in the bedroom, thanks to the summer night.

Paul pulled on a pair of dark grey knee-length ugg boots with thick heavy soles. He stood up.

To Julian, he looked like a warrior ready for action. Paul towered over his father. He was a foot taller and two and a half times as heavy. His powerful body rippled with muscle.

Paul stood six foot three inches (190 cm) and weighed sixteen and a half stone (230 lb. - 105 kg.). He boasted 18" biceps (46 cm.). He was very strong and fit.

Some parishioners remarked on how much bigger Paul was than Julian. Julian explained to them that he himself had suffered a childhood plagued by illness and surgery. He thanked God that all his children were in excellent health and had thus far escaped what he had to suffer.

"OK, Dad, let's go," said Paul.

He strode out of the door, down the hallway and down the stairs. He turned on the lights of the darkened passageways as he went.

Julian followed him. He admired Paul's muscular back, broad shoulders, slim waist and hips. Paul was his youngest child and second son. At nineteen years old, he was the biggest of his children.

Next one older was his elder son Francis. At twenty-three, he was studying for a Ph.D. in astrophysics at the Australian National University (ANU) in Canberra after gaining a first-class honours degree in Science. Frank was a little above average height and had a lean athletic physique. He excelled at athletic sports both at school and university. He had quite a wide range of interests including a keen interesting in bush-walking and mountain climbing.

The reason he was away this Christmas was that he had gone to Chile to climb the Torres del Paine, needles of granite down in the very south of Chile. The climb looked fearsome. Paul called them the Towers of Pain. Julian had seen the photos Frank had shown him. He found it difficult to understand how anyone could derive any pleasure from ascending these vertical rock pillars.

Frank, however, seemed to march to a different drum. He was a keen pianist who enjoyed the music of composers like Schubert, Chopin, Beethoven, Brahms and Liszt. When he was home, he often went around to the Reeves house to play the glorious Steinway grand piano that Max Reeves had given to Veronica. He had learnt German and spoke it quite well. He had climbed mountains in the Alps particularly in Austria and Switzerland. He enjoyed reading the German romantic poets like Goethe, Schiller, Heinrich Heine and Rainer Maria Rilke. Recently he had discovered the poetry of Saint Hedwig von Marienfels. That was much to the delight of Veronica Reeves who said that the saint's poems translated into English were frequently used as sermon texts by her father and Julian's predecessor in the parish, the Reverend John Houston.

Julian and Helen's eldest child and only daughter was Judith, aged twenty-six. She had gained a first-class honours degree in Arts from ANU and was now living in England. She had a job as a curator at an art gallery run by the Manchester City Council. Unfortunately she was living in sin with this rude, arrogant, insolent and muscular Mancunian, an Englishman native to Manchester. He was aggressively an atheist and showed no respect to Julian as a clergyman. He made fun of Julian's small size. Helen described him as 'common'.

Paul was a disappointment academically. He had done reasonably well at school here in Ringtail Springs. He had not wanted to leave his friends here and go to Canberra Grammar School as a boarder. In his first year at ANU, he had failed all his subjects.

He was a very keen rugby player and had led a hectic social life. He had a number of girlfriends that year with whom he had enthusiastic sex. As Francis had remarked sardonically, Paul had indulged in too much footy, fucking and fighting. He had perhaps spent too much time working out in the gym. Francis expressed no surprise that Paul had failed all subjects.

Julian was not happy. If Paul went back to repeat the year, he would have to carry the extra burden of fees. Julian and Helen could not afford to pay for his university fees.

Frank paid for his mountaineering trips overseas by working as a barista in the posh cafes in Canberra. He was reasonably well paid. Not only that but he had won scholarships that paid all his university fees.

Paul strode out of the rectory side door towards the church. Julian had the thought that Paul was a warrior ready for battle. He had to break into a trot to keep up with his son.

Derek: << The parson and his son are coming. Let's disappear. >>

Scott: << Let's see what happens when they see the image of Jesus glowing in the dark. >>

Derek withdrew from Scott. They both made themselves invisible and floated up to the ceiling like a pair of ghosts. Some of the angels stayed in the church.

Meanwhile the glow from the walls of the church had faded completely. Only the image of Christ continued glowing brightly. It illuminated the transept and the nave of the church. The sanctuary was in semi- darkness. It was illuminated solely by the light reflected from the nave and transept.

At Julian's suggestion, Paul jogged around the outside of the church and checked all the doors. All were locked. There was no sign of a break-in. The outside of the church was dimly lit by the church-yard lamp posts.

They observed the church windows lit from inside. It was completely quiet inside and the light was dimmer.

Julian unlocked the vestry door. Paul preceded him inside. His arms were partially flexed. His muscles tensed and bulged. He was ready for anything. Julian could not help thinking what a magnificent physical specimen his son was. He could not help feeling some pride at his strong son's physical attributes.

The vestry appeared undisturbed. Julian shone his torch around but could see nothing amiss.

Paul cautiously opened the door into the sanctuary. He stopped. He was puzzled by the bright glow emanating from a source in the transept hidden from view around the corner. He pointed it out to his father.

Quietly they entered the sanctuary. It was lit dimly by the light from around the corner in the transept. Julian examined the altar by the light of his torch. The altar was neat, clean and tidy as it always was. The two looked around the nave. Nothing was to be seen but rows of empty pews. The nave was lit up by the mysterious light. They could see no one. The church was silent. The only noises they could hear came from outside. Crickets were chirping. A willy- wagtail chirruped in one of the trees outside.

"What is that funny smell in here?" asked Julian quietly. "Has someone been burning incense? It smells most unusual."

"Smells like semen to me," replied Paul.

"Don't be ridiculous, boy," replied Julian with quiet irritation. "How could that possibly be the case?"

Paul shrugged.

Paul and Julian ventured further out into the nave. Paul went around the corner to see what the source of the light was. He stopped in amazement. His eyes widened.

"Dad, come here," he almost whispered. "The image of Jesus in the wall is glowing."

He walked quickly towards the image.

Julian hurried to join him. When he saw that the image of Jesus on the wall was indeed glowing brightly, he fell to his knees and exclaimed that it was a miracle. He began babbling prayers of thanks and adoration with his hands clasped together.

Paul cautiously approached the glowing image. It seemed to be glowing from within. The old rough concrete that formed the image seemed alive with light. Paul sensed a loving presence permeating the fabric of the church. There seemed to be other presences inside the church. He thought he could sense them.

Paul stepped over the rope intended to keep people back. Curious and a little apprehensive, he approached the image. He reached out his hand and touched the feet of the image.

Suddenly everything went very quiet. Even his father was suddenly silent. Something was happening to the image. Paul found himself looking at a living man with long dark brown hair, dark brown beard and clad in a long loose white robe. The man's dark eyes had a penetrating gaze.

The man bent down and picked up Paul's hand with both of his. Paul was struck speechless. The man kissed Paul's hand.

He spoke in a well-modulated baritone. "Paul, will you serve Me and My Father the Lord God in Heaven now and forever?"

Paul hesitated. Thoughts whirled frantically through his mind. He realised that the man was indeed Jesus appearing in the flesh.

Jesus spoke again. "I have stopped time outside this little space. Just we two are moving in this space. Even your father is in a suspended state until I start time moving again outside this space. I can wait for your answer."

Paul looked around. It was completely dark outside the rope. His father and everything else had vanished from view. Paul looked back up at Jesus smiling down at him.

Paul finally blurted out an answer. "Yes, Lord, I will."

"That is good."

"How do you want me to serve You, Lord?" Paul asked nervously.

Jesus smiled. "First things first, Paul. You need someone to be your guide. Scott Reeves is the best person for that task. He will teach you what you need to know and he will bring you to My Father in Heaven. However, what you need to do first to set you on the path is to get Scott to fuck you. Will you do that?"

Paul gaped at Jesus in astonishment. Jesus put both his hands on each side of Paul's head and gazed into his eyes.

Long-suppressed desires for sex with other men surged up out of the oubliette of Paul's subconscious. He knew Scott well. He liked Scott and he had admired Scott's muscular physique.

His mind flashed back to the third Sunday in Advent, not long before Christmas. It was before the Reeves family had gone away to Queensland. Paul had been roped in at the last minute as an altar server for the morning service. He was the crucifer.

It was a hot day. Paul was sweating under the alb and amice he was wearing despite the fact that he was stripped down to his underpants and shoes underneath. The alb was sticking to his hot sweaty naked torso.

His father was preaching the sermon. It seemed to go on forever.

The other altar server was old Mrs Bampton. She was sitting opposite him in the sanctuary with that simpering blissful sanctified expression on her face that old ladies get when they are being very good. For an instant Paul felt a flash of irritation at her.

Mrs Bampton appeared to be listening intently to his father's sermon. She could see his father. Paul could not. He was sitting around the corner from the pulpit.

Paul's attention was wandering. He saw Scott Reeves sitting with the rest of his family in a pew near the front. Scott was wearing a short-sleeved shirt that showed off the big powerful muscles on his arms. Paul had heard the gossip that Scott had been taking this Long Phat Kok stuff that had made him grow really muscular and strong.

Paul stared at Scott with a mixture of admiration and envy. Scott's muscles were bigger than his. He drank in the sight of Scott's magnificent body.

Scott was a splendid sight. His arms were covered with veins and looked massively powerful. His pectoral muscles bulged out underneath his shirt that was a little tight.

Paul felt his penis swelling in his underpants but he did not care. It would not show under the loose alb.

Scott looked at him. Their eyes locked together across the church. Paul looked down. He felt himself getting hotter and sweatier. A trickle of sweat tickled as it ran down the valley of his spine. His swelling penis was uncomfortable in his underpants. He did not dare adjust himself in front of the congregation. He endured the discomfort.

Later in the service the collection was taken up during the offertory hymn. Scott carried all the collection bags heaped up on a big wooden plate up to the sanctuary. They were heavy with coin. Scott's big veiny biceps bulged with power.

Paul stood ready on the sanctuary step to receive the collection with the big brass plate. He stared at Scott's magnificent biceps, chest and shoulders lost in admiration. He was taken by surprise when Scott thrust the collection bags at him. Paul received them on the brass plate after a second's hesitation and carried it up to the altar where his father was waiting.

Paul looked up at Jesus. "Y...Yes, L...Lord, I w...will," he stammered.

"Good," said Jesus. "You know what to do now. Go, Paul. I send you out to do God's Will."

With that, the vision faded. Paul removed his hand from the image. He heard his father babbling his fervent prayers. Things appeared to have returned to normal again but Paul did not feel normal. Everything remained the same but everything had changed. Paul did not know how or what.

Scott and Derek floated invisibly up near the ceiling of the church. They were accompanied by some angels.

Derek tagged Paul telepathically. He passed the tag to Scott.

Julian opened his eyes. He stopped his praying when he saw that Paul was inside the roped-off area around the image of Christ.

He staggered up off his knees from the cool stone floor.

"What are you doing in there?" he demanded. "Have you been touching it?"

Paul just stared at him. He stepped back over the rope without a word.

"Well?" demanded Julian. "Look, we don't want people running their grubby fingers over the image and getting it dirty. And we definitely don't want people kissing it. That's worse still. It's bad enough with people burning candles in here. Well? Just what were you doing in there?"

Paul could not speak. A tumult of emotions ran through him. His eyes felt wet. He felt close to crying but he managed to hold it in check.

Julian noticed the strange expression on his son's face.

He asked in a softer tone "Paul, what happened?"

Paul shook his head. Julian saw his wet eyes. He was certain that something had happened to him. He realised that Paul was in no mood to say anything. He decided to leave it for the moment.

They left the church.

Derek smiled at Scott.

Derek: << Lucky bugger, you! Paul's one hell of a hunk. >>

Scott looked at Derek with mixed emotions. He loved Derek totally and he was loath to dilute the relationship with another person. He knew that the time was coming that he would be training other people as Derek had trained him. However, he had no idea that the time would come so soon.

However, God had other plans. He made it clear to Scott that He wanted Scott to start soon to bring people to Him and Paul was a good man to start with. He was young, strong and good-looking and he was experienced sexually, albeit with women only so far. Scott would be his first male lover.

The next day, Scott acquired for real a fairly new motorbike second- hand through Derek's network. It was a big powerful Yamaha V-twin of 1900 cc that felt as if it were rocket powered. It had been hotted up and fitted with exhaust extractors. Derek thought that it would do instead of a Harley-Davidson. Scott already had a motorcycle licence since he turned sixteen when he rode his old Yamaha dirt bike.

He suited up in a new-looking sleeveless blue denim jacket, faded blue jeans, shiny black leather motorcycle boots that came up to his knees, black leather motorcycle gloves, a blue helmet with red flashes and a visor and finally a pair of aviator-style sunglasses.

Derek was impressed with the way Scott looked. He loved the look of Scott's massive muscular arms and shoulders in the sleeveless jacket. The jacket has slits in the side from armhole to waistband to let Scott's huge thick wide lats through. It bore no insignia on the back because Scott had not yet been admitted into the Roadknights Motor Cycle Club. That would come. Both Derek and Scott were confident. However, Derek could not admit Scott to the Roadknights by himself. He would need at least six other full members with him as well as no objections from other telepathic members to admit Scott. That would have to wait until the others arrived in the New Year.

Scott went for a ride into town ostensibly to pick up Derek's mail from the post office but he really wanted to show off his bike and his body. He cruised around Ringtail Springs and thundered up High Street to the post office. He found a motor-cycle park in front.

Inside the post office in Ringtail Springs he chatted to Liz Nelson the postmistress.

The people inside stared at him. They were amazed by the size of his muscles.

"You seem to get bigger every time I see you," commented Mr Foreman. "Goodness me, you are absolutely huge. You've got the biggest muscles I've ever seen on a human being."

"That Long Phat Kok stuff that you've been taking, that comes from China, doesn't it?" Liz asked.

"Singapore, actually," replied Scott.

"Long Phat Kok, that sounds like Chinese. Does it mean anything in Chinese?"

Scott smiled. "Dragon, Happy Potent. That's the translation," he said. "Or Happy Potent Dragon."

Liz pursed her lips then broke into a grin.

"Well I never," she laughed. "It's a joke of course."

"No, it's a real Chinese name," replied Scott with a straight face. "In fact, it's the name of the chairman of the board of the company."

Liz laughed. "I may be old, but I'm not a fool, well not yet anyway. But somehow, Scottie, that name suits you, Happy Potent Dragon."

Just then the post office doors swung open and Mrs Farrell burst in.

The words came tumbling out in excitement as she said that a four- wheel-drive had run over a little boy who had run out into High Street in front of it. He was now stuck underneath screaming his head off. People were trying to lift it off him but it was one of those big heavy Land Rovers. It was far too heavy for anyone to lift. Half a dozen men had tried but they could not shift it. She looked at Scott's powerful form and asked if he could help.

Scott said he would have a go. They all hurried outside.

A crowd had gathered in High Street outside the post office. They surrounded a dark green late model Land Rover Discovery. They could hear a small child screaming. Scott saw Mrs Willoughby-Wainthropp in floods of tears being comforted by Mrs Wright. Mrs Willoughby- Wainthropp had been driving the Land Rover.

The crowd parted as Scott walked through. He was followed by Liz and Phil Nelson, Mrs Farrell and Mr Foreman.

A man said that he had called the garage for the tow-truck but Neil Minchin had gone out to an accident on the Wee Jasper Road and he would not be back for nearly an hour. Someone else said he had rung the tow-truck operators at Gundagai but they would not arrive for another hour at least.

Scott saw that the Land Rover was equipped with a bull-bar on the front. That was good.

The child's screaming from underneath the vehicle rent the air. The child's mother was crying hysterically begging people to get the thing off her little boy before he got squashed.

"Thank goodness you've turned up, young man," said Mr Gordon. "We need a big strong man like you."

Mr Gordon was a tall thin wiry man of late middle-age. He started organising the other men to help lift the four-wheel-drive.

"Don't bother," said Scott. "I reckon I can lift this myself."

Mr Gordon shot him a questioning look.

"I shouldn't think so," he said. "These Land Rovers weigh more than two tons, particularly with their V6 diesel motors."

"Just watch me," said Scott.

With that he peeled off his denim jacket and gave it to Liz Nelson to hold. His muscular bare torso glistened with sweat in the hot summer sun.

He gripped the bull-bar of the Land Rover and got ready to lift. He could feel superhuman power surging through his muscles. He heaved on the bull-bar. His huge biceps bulged with power. He lifted up the front of the four-wheel-drive. People gasped. Scott's back, shoulders and arms were a symphony of bulging muscular power.

"Look at those mighty muscles bulge," called out someone.

"God! That man is fucking huge," another person commented loudly.

"Good heavens," remarked a woman, "look at his shoulders! That man must be a yard wide! "

"Go Ramzilla," yelled out someone else.

Mr Gordon's eyes widened with surprise. He said nothing.

The front bar of the Lion and Unicorn Hotel nearby had emptied and its patrons had joined the throng of onlookers. They were joined by people drifting over the road from the Prince of Wales Hotel and the Ringtail Possum Hotel.

Scott was telepathically aware of the admiration of all the people around him. He revelled in their admiration.

He was aware of Paul Hamilton-Forbes standing at the back of the crowd rapt in awe and admiration at Scott's muscles.

As Scott lifted up the Land Rover, he came face to face with the little boy hanging underneath. The little boy's T-shirt was caught up in the undercarriage of the vehicle. The boy's screams turned to crying.

"Could you unhook him please?" Scott asked Mr Gordon.

"Can you can lift it a little higher?" Mr Gordon was as tall as Scott.

Scott heaved the vehicle up well over his head.

Mr Gordon went in underneath, fiddled around a moment where the boy's T-shirt was caught and unhooked the boy. The little boy was covered in dirt, scratches and scrapes. Mr Gordon carried him over to his mother who wept tears of gratitude and thanked him profusely. The tearful little boy clung to his mother like a baby koala.

Mrs Willoughby-Wainthropp came up to Scott as he lowered her four- wheel-drive gently down again. Her eyes were red with crying. She was voluminous in her thanks.

"I was just driving along looking for a park and this little boy just ran out in front of me as quick as a wink," she said plaintively. "I just couldn't stop in time. Next thing I know, he's underneath the Land Rover and everyone's shouting and screaming. Thank God, Scott, you came to the rescue and lifted my car off him. I know it's a big heavy old thing but, Scott, I'm so grateful. Thank you so much."

Mrs Wright came up. She clasped Scott on the shoulder.

"Scottie, thank you so much," she said. "It's marvellous having a man like you around. You did really well in rescuing that little boy. I must say he brought it on himself running out into the road like that. I'm glad he survived to tell the tale and I hope he's learnt his lesson."

She turned to Mrs Willoughby-Wainthropp and offered to have a cup of coffee with her.

"I know, Maureen, it's only Saunder's Cafe here and they only serve instant coffee," she said half apologetically.

"Oh thank you. That would be nice," replied Mrs Willoughby- Wainthropp. "But I do wish there was a decent coffee shop in this town where one could get a decent cup of coffee."

She looked at her Land Rover in the middle of the street and then at Scott and Mrs Wright. Her eyes filled with tears.

"I don't think I can drive this at the moment," she said.

"That's alright, dear," said Mrs Wright cheerfully. "Hop in and I'll drive. There's bound to be a park in the supermarket car park. Don't worry about me. I'm used to vehicles like this. I used to drive army trucks when I was a girl during the War."

Scott grinned.

As the two women drove off, he looked around for Paul but Paul was nowhere to be seen. He found him with his telepathic sense. Paul was in the supermarket.

Mr Gordon came up and shook Scott's hand.

"Well done, young fellow," he said. "That was a magnificent job you did. I must say that I didn't realise you could be so strong."

Liz Nelson came up to him grinning from ear to ear.

"Our hero," she said as she proffered him his jacket. "Happy Potent Dragon." She winked.

Mr Gordon looked at her questioningly. She smiled mysteriously and headed off back towards the post office.

Over the next day or so Scott and Derek had spent the weekend using their super powers to refurbish the old hotel with the help of the angels. The interior of the old hotel was completely transformed. All the rooms were freshened up with the appearance of a new coat of paint.

The exterior would have to wait until the other people arrived. It would have been obvious to passers-by that something very strange was going on if the two men had used their super powers to renovate the exterior.

After the cleansing and removal of evil spirits and forces from the hotel when Derek had acted as the bait for the evil spirits, the angels had removed all negative energies from the building and filled it with good vibrations. All the rot, rust and decay had been taken away and the hotel was as sound as the day it was built. The dust and dirt had been removed from all the rooms. However, Derek and Scott felt that the decor in most of the rooms needed updating.

The ornate room where Derek and Hal had their victory fuck was left unchanged. Derek liked the rich fabrics and furnishings in the room. He decided that it would be his bedroom.

For his own bedroom, Scott chose the large room on the outside of the south-eastern corner of the upper floor. It had an octagonal alcove in the corner. It was away from the road and overlooked the forest in the east and the overgrown paddocks in the south.

He magicked up an enormous soft and comfortable double bed for himself. It was inspired by Derek's in the loft but bigger. Scott made a few changes. The bed had thick blue textured non-stick vinyl sheets and pillow slips for the four pillows. The doona cover was also the same thick textured vinyl but of a colourful blue, yellow, red, orange and green abstract pattern like the plumage of a rainbow lorikeet. Derek liked it.

Scott caused the walls to be covered with a rich blue, yellow and white vertical striped wallpaper with thick blue velvet curtains.

Derek moved his bed magically from the garage loft into the bedroom next to Scott's. It would become a spare bed.

He moved some of the other furniture as well. The new refrigerator appeared in the hotel kitchen. Derek retrieved the old refrigerator from the past where Hal had left it and put it back in the loft kitchen.

The other rooms were redecorated in readiness for the arrivals in the New Year. Derek was expecting a number of friends to arrive.

There was no electricity connected to the hotel. Scott liked the idea of candles and kerosene lanterns. However, Derek found an old electrical cable buried underground that used to connect the garage and the hotel. He and Scott connected it up and, hey presto, there was light and power in the hotel.

"Huwwo," Kieran greeted Derek.

"Hullo again, Kieran," replied Derek with a laugh.

"You got a huge wee-wee."

Derek smiled tolerantly.

"Is that 'cos you got huge big muscles?" asked Kieran slowing down on his trike.

"Yeah, I guess it's all part of the package."

"Bye now." Kieran sped up again on his trike and disappeared around the corner on another of his endless circuits of the old hotel. Derek was left with his thoughts.

New Year's Eve arrived.

Scott rode his new motorbike to Minchin's service station to fill it up with petrol (gas). His parents had an account there and Scott knew the people there well.

Craig was the pump attendant.

He was filling the white Toyota Corolla station wagon belonging to the Reverend Julian Hamilton-Forbes. Paul leant against the car and chatted to Craig. He was going to drive his parents to the Canberra airport for their flight to New Zealand on the day after New Year's Day.

When Scott thundered into the service station on his motorbike and dismounted, both Paul and Craig stared at him. Craig wondered who the huge muscleman was but Paul recognised Scott right away. He told Craig.

They were filled with admiration at Scott's massively impressive musculature. Paul had already told Craig about Scott lifting the Willoughby-Wainthropps' Land Rover off that little kid when Mrs Willoughby-Wainthropp ran over the kid in front of the post office. People were talking about how tremendously strong Scott was.

Scott was wearing his black leather knee-high bike boots and blue denim jeans. He also wore his sleeveless denim jacket unbuttoned at the front. It showed off Scott's huge, impressively muscular arms, the rock wall of his abdominal muscles, the extraordinarily wide and powerful shoulders, the thick wide lats protruding through the side slits and the thick powerful plates of his pectoral muscles.

With the Corolla filled, Paul and Craig went over Scott.

"Jesus Christ, Ramzilla," exclaimed Craig, "how did you get to be so fucking huge?"

Scott smiled.

"It's the magic stuff," he said mysteriously.

"You mean that Long Phat Kok stuff?" asked Craig.

"Oh damn, everyone knows about it." Scott laughed.

"Do you reckon I could have some of that stuff?"

"Derek's said that he'd go broke quick smart if he gave it to everyone who asked for it. It is expensive."

"I'd pay for it."

"They must pay you heaps here if you can afford it."

"Is it that expensive?"

"Yep."

Craig's face fell. He looked at Scott with a mixture of admiration and envy.

Paul's emotions were somewhat more mixed. All sorts of feelings had been liberated from the oubliette of his unconscious.

"Do you reckon I could have a feel of your muscles?" asked Craig diffidently.

"Sure."

Scott obligingly threw his arms into a jaw-droppingly spectacular double biceps pose.

"Do you mind if I did too?" asked Paul tentatively.

"Not at all."

Both Craig and Paul ran their hands over Scott's huge hard biceps. They marvelled at the sheer size of his arms.

Strange feelings ran through Paul as he ran his hands over Scott's mighty arms appreciating the massive power that lay within them. He felt small trembles run through his body.

Craig's eyes were wide with admiration.

"Jesus, how big are your arms?"

"28 inches."

"Fu...u...uck!"

"Shit! That's huge," exclaimed Paul. "They're the biggest arms I've ever seen by far."

Scott enjoyed the admiration of the two young men running their hands over his arm muscles.

After a few minutes he observed Neil Minchin, the garage proprietor, looking at Craig sourly. He peered into Neil's mind. Neil felt that Craig was behaving inappropriately with the customer and was wasting Neil's company time and money.

"OK, guys," said Scott dropping his arms, "I reckon that's enough now. The boss is watching you, Craig, and I don't think he's too happy."

He saw a quick smirk cross Neil's face. Craig looked hurriedly over towards Neil. His face coloured when he realised that his boss had indeed been watching him.

"OK, down to business," said Scott. "Craig, fill 'er up please."

He removed the filler cap from the fuel tank of his motor cycle.

Under his watchful eye, Craig filled the fuel tank taking care not to spill any petrol on the tank.

"That's some bike," commented Paul admiringly. "I don't think I've seen one of these around."

"There aren't too many around in this country," replied Scott. "They're big in the United States."

"How big's the engine? It looks huge."

"1900 ccs." (116 cubic inches)

"Far out, that's huge. It's got a bigger engine than the Corolla and it's a bike. Hell, I bet it goes."

"It does," said Scott drily.

"I bet it's got bags of torque."

"Yep, it has."

All done, Scott handed Craig a $20 note to pay for the fuel.

Craig went off to get Scott's change and to charge the cost of the petrol for the Corolla to the Anglican priest's account.

Paul looked at Scott. He was lost for words.

After about a minute he looked over Scott's bike.

"That is one tremendous bike you've got there," he said eventually. "Is it yours?"

"Yep, it is," replied Scott.

"I bet it cost a packet."

"I got it second-hand so it was cheaper. It was enough though."

Craig returned with a few coins change for Scott.

"All done," he said.

He got Paul to sign the account book.

He looked at Scott in wonder.

"You know, Scott, I just can't get over how big you are. You're fucking huge. You're like those muscle morphs you see on the Internet. I never seen such huge muscles as yours. Jesus, Scott, you're unreal. You're really are Ramzilla."

Scott smiled appreciatively. He was enjoying their unstinting admiration.

A burgundy Rolls-Royce Silver Seraph glided into the petrol station and pulled up at the pumps.

"Mr Bodleigh rides again," jeered Paul.

"Can't help himself," replied Craig. "He's always driving around showing off his new Roller. Bugger it. I'd better go and fill him up again. I'm always doing it."

"You'll be a while," laughed Scott as Craig walked away to the petrol pumps.

"Where does he get his money? He's retired, isn't he?" asked Paul.

"From real estate in Sydney, I hear," replied Scott. "He sold his business and he's retired now."

Paul looked at Scott admiringly. He did not know what to say next.

Finally he blurted out, "Geez, Scott, I just can't get over how big and muscly you are. You're just bloody enormous."

Scott smiled as he mounted his bike.

"Well, I've sort of moved out of home," he said. "I've moved into the old Valley Road hotel. It's nice and quiet up there. So you're welcome to come up and see me some time. We can get to know each other lots better."

With that, Scott gave a really sexy smile. His even white teeth almost glowed.

Paul blushed. He felt embarrassed like a thirteen-year-old school girl when he realised that he had just been propositioned. He wondered if Scott already knew about Paul's vision of Jesus in the church. But how?

Scott kick-started his bike with a thunderous roar. He accelerated out of the service station. Out in the street he performed a wheel- stand. The bike roared as it reared up on its hind wheel. Scott waved and then disappeared rapidly down the street trailing thunder behind him.

-------------------------------------- Continued in Part 64. --------------------------------------