LONGHOLME ISLAND
RETURN TO LONGHOLME ISLAND
Part 11
Games on the Beach
Everyone decided to go for a swim and Koff decided that Rob might as well pay his forfeit now. Rob didn’t mind particularly because he knew he’d be left in the shade somewhere where the other boys could keep an eye on him. Koff untied Rob’s ankles and looped the rope round his neck while he led his prisoner by the arm as everyone headed for the beach. There followed about two hours of ducking one another, swimming, ducking one another, Frisbee, ducking one another and general roughhousing as Rob sat with his ankles crossed once more in the shade of the dunes.
Eventually someone noticed that it was about time for dinner so Koff released Rob’s ankles and led him back to HQ along with everybody else. By now Rob was starting to object, he was sure his two hours were up. They were, but who was counting? Once back at HQ Koff relented and released his ginger friend who, for once, took a timely opportunity to top-up his sun-block.
Dinner was taken and Koff took his turn on the washing up while the others decided what to do until bed-time. The best suggestion seems to have been a game of murder ball on the beach. Rob collected three tennis balls and Trevor thought that this was going to sting a bit. Everyone grabbed a t-shirt or a vest and, once they had returned to the beach, Trevor asked about the rules. The rest of the Pirates gave him some very funny looks but Trevor soon gathered that there weren’t any. He wished he’d brought his cricket box with him.
“OK, new boy gets to be on it,” shouted Rob, and he threw a tennis ball to Trevor while the other players scattered. Trevor removed the baggy white vest, that always made him look even skinnier than ever, and took aim. He was used to the target area being below the players’ shorts and that’s how he played, very soon hitting Stewart on the knee. Stewart stripped off his sky-blue t-shirt and grabbed another tennis ball. It soon became apparent that, although there were supposed to be no rules, it seemed to be considered cowardly to run into the sea or beyond the end of the short stretch of dunes. Trevor’s gentlemanly instincts were soon overcome when he saw Stewart aiming high and he adjusted his aim to suit the local rules.
They soon “recruited” Roy who dropped his red t-shirt and grabbed the remaining tennis ball. No one was really trying to hurt anybody else but, for some inexplicable reason in between cries of, “Over here!”, “Missed!”, “Useless!” and other such technical terms the following could be heard:
”Oaarr f-u-u-ungghh!”
“Opps. Sorry Dave!”
“Whoaar. Right in the cobblers.”
“Don’t worry, I told you they can’t feel anything at that age.”
“Bastards!”
“Never mind all that, get your top off, you’re on it.”
Dave doubled up but no one took much notice of him and he eventually joined in again. Rob and Koff were now effectively penned in by the others who kept up an unrelenting barrage of missiles from all points around them until Roy caught his big brother right in the middle of his sunburnt back. That left Koff, still in his white t-shirt, as the winner. The next game followed the same lines except that, as a boy became on it, he replaced his top. Roy was the winner and was the only one left topless as the Pirates lay in the sand to recover for a while.
Everyone compared bruises and Dave still held on to himself at intervals as he hadn’t quite recovered from his mortal blow yet. Things were getting quite mellow until Stewart shouted, “Last one to the rock’s a damned grockle.” And everyone leapt to their feet and charged into the sea heading for a fair-sized rock that now stood well proud of the water. No one even bothered to remove his top before starting. Trevor, having been taken more by surprise than the others, as well as being less experienced as a swimmer, was the obvious loser. The Pirates explained to Trevor what a grockle was and everyone had to agree that the right man had lost because, if he hadn’t been a Pirate, Trevor would indeed have been considered a grockle by the other boys. Everyone gathered their breath before taking a more leisurely swim back to the beach.
After another short rest and two more games of murder ball, a weary band returned to camp. On the way, Koff realised that, if he didn’t claim Trevor’s forfeit, he would get away with it because he would have to go home tomorrow. Arrangements were quickly made.
Trevor’s Forfeit
“OK Koff, you can tie him up now and leave him overnight.”
“That should count as a day if he stays bound in the morning.” Trevor didn’t understand the Pirates’ time scale yet but he would learn it over the next couple of years.
“I ought to be allowed to tie him up with someone else,” demanded Koff. “After all you all owe me a whole day.”
“Not with my sunburn,” said Rob wimping out.
“Bags not I!” said Dave quickly, “I’m too short”
“Me too!” declared Roy.
“Motion passed.” And with that Rob leapt onto Stewart, pinning him to the ground with the aid of Dave who quickly sat on his brother’s legs.
“Do you give?” Stewart kept struggling.
“Roy, persuade him.” The muscular lad could probably have unseated the taller but slighter Rob if it had really mattered but his resistance was really only for show and Roy’s tickle attack on his pinioned feet gave him an honourable way out.
“Yes! Ahh – h – h! Word of honour! Yes!”
“My big brother likes having his feet tickled.” volunteered Dave disingenuously. Truth to be told, neither of the Lennox brothers ever proved to be heroes under such torture.
Stewart and Trevor were allowed some time to prepare themselves while Koff prepared the ropes and other equipment he would need. The rest of the Pirates gave their attention to the inevitable camp fire. The victims took the opportunity to make themselves comfortable, rinse out what they were wearing and change into their overnight clothing of briefs and shorts. Stewart wore his loose, black p.e. shorts and Trevor had a pair of old and now (even on him), rather too tight jeans that had been crudely cut off a bit more than half way down his thighs.
Koff’s voice could be heard from the store room asking if there was any tape left.
“Sorry mate, we used it earlier.”
Roy made for his rucksack “Ta-dah!!” and threw a couple of rolls of wide black gaffer tape to his grinning, broad-shouldered friend. “I was saving them for use on Dave but I reckon you deserve them.”
“Thanks, Mate.” Koff’s grinning thanks were heart-felt.
“Yeah, thanks, Friend!” Dave’s weren’t.
Koff emerged with his trophies and various other items from stores and told Stewart and Trevor to sit down back-to-back on the crates that had been used earlier. That wouldn’t make it easier to tie them up except that it would more or less eliminate the difference in height between the taller slim boy and the muscular dark-haired one. They didn’t exactly make a matching pair.
“Put your hands palm to palm against the other guy.” Stewart and Trevor complied and Koff doubled a long rope and carefully tied Trevor’s right wrist to Stewart's left using four turns of the doubled rope before cinching it and repeating the procedure at their elbows and finishing off at the tops of their biceps. That left a certain amount of the free ends for later use. Koff checked his tying and evened off the pressure at the three points of attachment before repeating the process on his victims’ opposite arms.
“OK?” Both prisoners confirmed that they were before Koff got a shorter rope and looped it twice, quite loosely between Trevor’s right and Stewart’s left wrist before tying a double figure of eight well out of reach of their fingers. He passed the longer free end of the rope between the two prisoners and, after he had pulled their arms closer to their bodies, tied a very similar loose loop and a complex non-slip knot. He threaded the free end up to the rope holding Stewart’s right elbow to Trevor’s left one and tied it firmly but without tensioning the rope. “Just to keep it out of the way of busy little fingers.” Said Koff looking pointedly at Stewart. If Koff was the best tier, Stewart was definitely the best escaper. Koff then did the same with the other free end.
“Roy, remind me not to torture you too much next time,” said Koff, and the grin returned to his face as he searched for the end of the tape. Every time he performed that operation, he wished he didn’t bite his finger nails. The wide sticky tape gave very good coverage in spite of the fact that Koff overlapped the wrappings generously as he started just above the rope connecting Trevor’s right wrist to Stewart’s left one stopping just above their elbows. “Here, hold this.” Koff presented the hanging ends of the rope to Trevor’s mouth. Trevor looked at him open-mouthed with a mixture of confusion and surprise but it did facilitate their easy insertion before Trevor clamped down on them and, for the first time, gave Koff a look that could kill. He was beginning to understand the concept of revenge.
Koff completed taping up to just below the captives’ armpits and, even when he continued back to just above their elbows, the large roll of tape was not even half exhausted. “Make a note to myself” said Koff rhetorically. “Next time, first tape arms, THEN pull wrists towards one another. OK, boys, all done this side. Need release? Both boys confirmed that they did not although Trevor, had more difficulty doing so than Stewart as he didn’t know whether he was allowed to spit out the ropes or not. Koff didn’t bother to disabuse him but, before he started on the other arms, he did give Stewart the other rope ends to hold the same way.
Koff wrapped some of the remains of the tape three times loosely around both necks causing both boys to sit very upright. Once again Koff gave his victims the chance to ask for release but, with his tying and with little stress (yet) on their limbs, he wasn’t expecting any such pleas from these two.
Stewart’s indistinct, “Can I drop these bloody ropes now?” was answered in the negative by his captor as he took a heavy leather belt and buckled it loosely round his subject’s necks.
Koff instructed Trevor to “Give.” And received another of those looks as Trevor disgorged the rope. That didn’t prevent him from saying, “Good boy!” and patting Trevor on the head.
“Don’t forget, Carpet-Head: I’ll be back!” That foreshadowed the great Arnie by a good eight years and both boys were smiling.
Koff finished off his task on the boys’ arms by looping the free ends of the ropes up through the belt and tying the ends off around the ropes themselves. “There, that should stop them slipping.” Koff was somewhat self-satisfied, he liked doing a neat job on co-operative prisoners. “Oh look: there’s some tape left on this first roll. I know!” And. so saying, Koff used the surprisingly plentiful remainder to tape round his “guests’” waists for several rounds pulling their backsides into even closer proximity. “Now to make you comfortable. Stand up.” Trevor and Stewart dug their bare feet into the ground as they pushed against one another to stand uncomfortably with their legs straight and impeded by the crates from which they had just risen. “OK, you can sit down again now.” And Koff pushed the crates out of the way with his feet.
The bound Pirates were left sitting on the ground, back-to-back and unable to move their arms to any appreciable extent. Stewart could see what was coming next but Trevor could not as Koff went to get the sledge hammer and four more of the long stakes of the type that had been used to spread-eagle last night’s victims. The sounds as Koff started hammering two of them near to Stewart’s feet soon informed Trevor of his forthcoming situation as eloquently as if someone had explained things to him. Stewart soon found his ankles wrapped with carefully applied rounds of rope the other ends of which were tied to the stakes. Once Trevor’s ankles had been staked out as well, he found out that Koff had allowed him and Stewart certain scope for movement rather than having pulled their legs rigidly straight. He knew that his captives, who were also his friends, needed to be given some chance of surviving ‘til morning without begging for release.
The Pirates spent the rest of the evening in light conversation and card games until supper time when Koff helped his prisoners to drinking chocolate and biscuits. Eventually, people drifted off to bed (under the stars again) and Trevor and Stewart settled down to an uncomfortable night punctuated with quiet conversation and less quiet imprecations every time one of them moved to the discomfort of the other.
Even as morning broke, Trevor still didn’t regret his decision to become a Pirate.
TBC