Chapter 1: How it all started

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, First, Slow, .

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1: How it all started - Ian Dunlop was not a boy to stand by and watch others who were in trouble. But by any standard, his adventures through his youth were anything but ordinary.

As a boy, and later a young man, in a time before cell phones, paramedics, CPR, personal computers, and ever-present video cameras, I survived a very strange period in my life. Weird things can happen to anyone and I'm no exception. But to have a number of coincidental incidents happen to you in a sequence over a number of years ... well ... a bunch of people, my friends and parents, began to think of it as more than a coincidence. It began when I was nine years old on April 10th, 1969, at 12:45pm in a school yard in a community near Vancouver, on the west coast of Canada. It was lunch hour and my pals and I were out playing a game of pick-up softball. Hell, it was early spring and the sun was out and we were determined to be outdoors. Anyway, I was playing right field, seeing as how I was considered a "feeb" by my fellow players. I could catch, but my throwing arm was weak and my batting was weaker. The only safe place for me then, was right field.

One of the batters hit a long fly ball my way and I was pretty sure it was going to go foul, but I chased it because I might be able to make an out; assuming I could catch it, of course. Right alongside the field was a road. Not a really busy road, but there were cars going back a forth now and then. As I chased the ball, I heard a voice call out "I'll get it." It sounded like a girl's voice, so I took my eye off the ball to see who was calling.

It was a girl, alright, but to my horror, she was drifting out onto the street and I could see a car coming right at her. I put on a burst of speed and got to her a couple of seconds before the car did and grabbing her arm, I yanked her back out of the vehicle's path. My reward for that was one angry young girl.

"What did you do that for?" she snapped when I helped her up to her feet.

"That car was coming right at you. It was probably going to hit you. Didn't you see it?"

"You're making that up," she snarled as a couple of her friends gathered around her.

"He saved your life, Kelsey," one of them said. "He saved your life," the girl repeated, wide-eyed.

I wasn't sure Kelsey whoever was buying that, but I wasn't really worried about it. The incident was over and I walked back and took up my position in the outfield. The first baseman had safely retrieved the ball from across the street.

"Nice going 'Soup," my pal Chug said, slapping me on the back. "Just like Superman swoops down and saves Lois Lane. That car was going to run her over for sure. Some little old lady who could hardly see over the dashboard was driving it. She never stopped ... she never even slowed down. She had no clue what happened."

"Really?" I said in surprise. "I really did save her?"

"Yeah. Like I said, just like Superman," he grinned, smacking me again, this time on the shoulder.

I felt pretty good about that. I felt real good about that, in fact. Maybe that girl Kelsey didn't realize it, but my guys did. Hell, they were the only ones that counted anyway. We only had time for one more batter before the bell rang and we had to go back into the school and head for our classrooms.

When I got to the door where all the kids were filing in, I saw Mrs. Usher standing there, and she had her eyes on me. Oh Oh! Was I in trouble?

"I saw what you did, Ian," she said as she took me aside. "That was very brave of you. You probably saved Kelsey from being badly injured, or possibly worse. You should be very proud of yourself, acting as quickly as you did. I'm sure Kelsey is very grateful."

"Uhhm ... well ... maybe not. I think I hurt her arm, and she fell on her bum when I dragged her off the street. She was pretty mad at me."

"I understand. Don't worry, Ian, I'll talk to her and let her know just how brave you were. I'm sure she'll feel better about what you did," she smiled.

"Thanks, Mrs. Usher. I'm glad I was able to help her."

"I'm pretty sure that was dear old Mrs. McGonagall driving that car," she said, thoughtfully. "I think it's time she turned in her license. I don't think she even knew how close she came to causing a tragic accident. I'll call her and let her know what I saw. In the meantime, you skedaddle to your homeroom or you'll be late," she smiled again.

"Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Usher," I said as I ran up the stairs and down the hallway to my home room.

"What did old lady Usher want with you?" Chug asked.

"Uhhm ... she wanted to thank me for saving that girl, Kelsey. She saw the whole thing. She said I probably saved her life."

"Oh yeah, for sure, Soup. So, she saw what you did, huh? You'll be famous now." He managed to smack me on the shoulder again, and it wasn't a light smack.

I spent the rest of the afternoon wrestling with math and English literature. I hated poetry, mostly because I could never understand what the writer was saying. Why do they make you read poetry in grade four? Cripes, some of these people died two hundred years ago. Anyhow, it was over and I headed out the front door to catch the school bus. When I got to the bottom of the steps, who should be waiting for me but Kelsey what's-her-face. Oh great.

"Hi, Ian," she greeted me in a nice, friendly voice.

"Uhhm, hi Kelsey."

"I want to thank you for saving me. Mrs. Usher told me that you stopped me from getting killed. You were very brave. I'm sorry I didn't thank you when you did that."

"I'm sorry I hurt your arm and made you fall, Kelsey. I wasn't thinking, just grabbing you and pulling you away from the road."

"I know. I'm not hurt. I was just surprised. I didn't see the car until after it passed me. You did a very brave thing," she smiled ... and then she did the worst possible thing. She stepped toward me and kissed me on the lips. Yuck!

She smiled and giggled and ran off to be with her friends, who were also giggling in their little girl voices. Oh man, I'll never live this down. Kissed by a girl on the front steps of the school in front of everyone. Yuck and double yuck!

Of course, what happened at noon hour and afterwards was the talk of all the kids on the bus, younger and older. The guys all thought it was pretty cool, while the girls said they wished they had someone as brave as me to save them if they were in danger. All in all, I was beginning to realize this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. On the other hand, a bunch of the guys and some of the girls were teasing me about Kelsey's kiss. I knew that was coming.

I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Ian Dunlop and I'm nine years old, in grade four at Alexander Mackenzie Elementary School. Every one of my pals had a nickname. Mine is "Soup," mainly because I have soup every day at lunch. No exceptions. I love soup; every kind of soup. So, that's how I got the nickname. My dad is Richard Dunlop, but everyone calls him Rick. Mom is Naomi Dunlop. I don't know the first names of my grandparents. I just call them Grandma, Grampa, Nana and Grandad.

Now "Chug" is really Charles Tanner, but we call him Chug because he drinks his milk or his pop in one go ... non-stop. I think his dad gave him the nickname. He's my best pal. He says he wants to be in the Navy when he grows up. He wants to see the world and he's worked out that the Navy is the cheapest way to do that. I'm not so sure what I want to do yet. Dad says there's no rush, so I'll just wait a while and see what comes up. It sure isn't going to be anything to do with poetry.

By the end of the week, two things happened. First, pretty much everyone knew what had happened Tuesday noon hour, and I got a lot of attaboys and nice-goin's from the old guys. That was cool. Most of the time, they ignore us or give us dweebs a hard time. A week later, it was pretty much forgotten except for Kelsey, who always said "Hi" when I passed her in the hallway or outside. I kind of got used to it. I found out her last name was Barnes, and right away I knew her brother must be Kyle, in grade six. He was one of the guys who came up to me and congratulated me for saving Kelsey. It's good to have older friends.

I pretty much forgot about that incident. I never did think of it as being something special. Just a lucky thing I was in the right place at the right time. Someone told my parents about it and they made a big fuss about it, but my sister Danielle didn't think it was anything special. She's in grade seven in junior high, so she's a lot older than me. I didn't care what she thought. I knew what my friends thought ... and some of the teachers, so that was enough.

My life was pretty ordinary for the next three years. I grew some and got better at baseball. I started to play soccer and I liked it. I'd be a teenager next year and I couldn't wait. Why, I don't know. I just thought it would be cool to be a teenager. Chug and I were still pals, but he didn't play soccer. He was a lot bigger than me, so he tried out for the junior football team and they made him a lineman. He was okay with that since he could push other guys around and the coach would tell him he was doing a good job.

Most times, Chug would come to watch me play soccer and I would watch him play football. In the meantime, since we were both on proper teams, we got to meet other guys and make new friends. Chug's best new friend was called "Pigpen," after the Peanuts character. That was because the guy's uniform was always the dirtiest and his boots looked like they had never been cleaned. Pigpen was actually Barry Bronstein, and I wondered how he felt about Chug's nickname. Considering his size (he was a lineman too) I'd have called him "Buck," or something like that. But apparently, he didn't mind Chug's chosen nickname and it stuck.

It was getting near Christmas and the weather had turned cold after a rain and the road was pretty icy. I had just gotten off the school bus when I noticed a car coming down the hill towards us, and it was sliding around and looked like it was out of control. I yelled at the kids at the top of my voice to get off the bus and onto the field next to the stop. I learned later that I was screaming like a banshee, whatever that is.

As I herded some of the slower kids onto the field, I looked up the road and saw that the car was now sideways and sliding on the icy roadway right toward the bus. I hollered at the bus driver, Mrs. Davidson, but she was busy getting the other kids to settle down and didn't pay me any attention. I knew what was going to happen. I could see it in my mind's eye, and I wasn't wrong.

The car slid sideways and almost seemed to gather speed. It crashed into the front driver's side of the bus with a terrible bang. I could hear glass breaking and then screams from inside the bus. Don't ask me what made me do what I did next, but I ran to the open door of the bus and climbed on to see what was going on. A bunch of kids were lying in the aisle, some trying to get up, while others were crying or moaning in pain. Mrs. Davidson was unconscious, I thought. She was lying across the front seat behind her driver's seat and not moving. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I had to do something.

I tried to help some of the kids who were hurt and crying, but I didn't know what to do about them either. I was starting to panic when I remembered that the bus had a two-way radio on the dashboard. I rushed up to the front and grabbed the microphone.

"Help, help, there's been an accident. Can anyone hear me?" I called.

I heard a crackle and some static before a voice came over the speaker.

"Who is this? What accident."

"A car has crashed into the school bus on Prairie Road near the old Rutger house. Mrs. Davidson is hurt and so are a bunch of kids. We need help, please," I said, near panic.

"Okay, kid. Stay calm. Stay there and help who you can. I'll get the ambulance and the police out to you pronto."

I looked around and wondered what I could do. I noticed Mrs. Davidson was moving a bit, so maybe she was coming around. I went to her.

"Mrs. Davidson, are you alright?" Dumb question of course, but it was all I could think of at the time.

She groaned and looked at me. "I'm hurt, Ian. Use the two-way and call for help."

"I already did. They are on the way."

"Good boy. Now go and see who you can help. Get them off the bus if you can. What happened?" she asked finally.

"A car ... coming down the hill. It lost control and started to skid right at us. I got the kids who got off the bus into the field, but I couldn't do anything about you guys."

"What happened to the driver?"

"I don't know. Should I go see?"

"Do what you can for the kids first. Then, if no one has arrived to help, go check on him."

"Okay, what should I do?"

"See if anyone is bleeding or unconscious. Do what you can to keep the youngsters calm. You don't want them to panic."

"Okay," I said, starting to work my way down the aisle. I couldn't see any sign of blood at first, but there were a bunch of kids moaning about how hurt they were. Maybe they had broken bones, but I didn't know. I just talked to them, telling them to stay calm because help was on the way. By the time I got to the back of the bus, none of the kids were unconscious and aside from a couple of nosebleeds, there was no sign of blood. Most of them had been banged around in the collision and were pretty sore from just bruises, I hoped. I decided I'd better check with Mrs. Davidson again.

"How are you doing?" I asked her.

"I think I've maybe broken some ribs, Ian. What about the kids? How are they?"

"I didn't see any cuts or anything like that, Ma'am. Just two kids with nosebleeds. They're all awake, but some are awful sore from the crash."

"Good job, Ian. You better see how the driver of the car is. Be careful. I don't want you hurt too."

"Yes, Ma'am," I answered, turning and stepping out of the bus onto the shoulder of the road. I walked carefully around the front of the bus and saw the car. It was caved in at the driver's door and the side window was broken. I could see the man inside wasn't moving, so I tried to find out if he was breathing. I thought he might be, but I wasn't sure. I tried to open the door, but it was mangled and wouldn't budge. I went around to the other side of the car and tried to open that door, but it was locked. I couldn't do anything to help, so went back to the bus.

"He's hurt bad and out cold, Mrs. Davidson," I reported. "The door is caved in and I can't get it open. The other doors are locked. What can I do?" I asked, once again feeling panic.

"Get on the radio, Ian, and tell them we need the fire department rescue men and that we've got a badly injured man trapped. Okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, immediately going for the microphone.

"Can you hear me? This is Ian at the school bus crash," I announced in a worried voice.

"I hear you Ian. What's the situation? The roads are really icy, so we're going to be a while getting some help to you."

"The guy driving the car isn't awake. The car is wrecked and I can't get the doors open. Mrs. Davidson said we should get the fire department rescue guys."

"Yes, Ian. I'll make sure the rescue crew is sent out. Is anyone seriously injured?"

"The driver of the car, for sure. He's out cold. I can't tell if he's breathing or not and I can't get into the car. What should I do?"

"There's nothing you can do, Ian. Just sit tight until the rescue and ambulance crews get there. You're doing a good job of keeping us informed. Good work. Don't panic."

"Okay ... thanks," I said, sniffing back a tear. Hell, I was scared. I'd never been in an accident before. I wished I knew what I could do to help. I turned back to Mrs. Davidson and saw she was trying to move. I asked her if I could help her.

"Give me your hand, Ian, and I'll get myself into this seat properly. Then go through the bus again and see how everyone is. You've done a great job. Just keep up the good work," she smiled through her pain.

She was a big woman, but with my help, she was able to move slowly. It took a couple of minutes to carefully get her turned and lowered into the seat, but when she was finally sitting, I could hear a sigh of relief from her. I left her and slowly went down the aisle to see how the other kids were. There was still some crying and moaning, but when I checked, it didn't look like things were any worse than they were a few minutes ago. I stayed with some of the kids, most of them younger than me, and tried to keep them calm. I told them that the rescue and ambulances were on the way and that they would be here soon.

My heart was pumping like crazy while all this was going on. I was alternating between being worried and frightened. I wasn't hurt, but I was very afraid some of the other kids and Mrs. Davidson and the guy in the wrecked car were in trouble. I thought about learning first aid and decided that would be a good thing to do. If something like this ever happened again, I'd know what to do.

It seemed like really long time before I heard the sirens coming from behind us. The bus was getting cold and some of the kids were crying because they were hurt and cold and nothing was happening. When we heard the sirens, they knew at last that help was on the way.

The fire rescue truck led the way, followed by the police and three ambulances. They were going very slowly because of the icy road. The police car went ahead and closed the road at the top of the hill to prevent another accident like the one we'd had. Some of the kids cheered when the procession arrived. I felt like doing that myself. I watched from the bus as the rescue guys split up, some heading for the car and the trapped driver, while two others climbed aboard the bus.

"Are you Ian," one of the firemen asked.

"Yes. Can you get some help for Mrs. Davidson? She thinks she has broken ribs."

"Can do. What about the rest of the kids?"

"I can show you which ones are hurt the most," I said.

"Good work, Son," he nodded.

I led him down the aisle and we stopped as he checked out some of the kids who were hurting the most.

"I'll get the medics in here pronto."

Sure enough, four people climbed on board carrying medical bags and began to work their way down the aisle. I was finally able to breathe and calm down. These people would look after my schoolmates and Mrs. Davidson. I could hear glass breaking as the rescue guys got into the car. They must have thought he was alive because they had a mask on his face and the ambulance guys were working on him as they carefully got him out of the car.

They took Mrs. Davidson away in one of the ambulances and the second ambulance took the driver of the car away. The third ambulance was used to check out some of the kids who had been banged around in the crash. I stepped off the bus and saw another school bus coming up behind us. The kids in the field that had stepped off the bus when it stopped had hung around to see what was going on, but like me, they were all within walking distance of their homes. It was the other twelve kids on the bus that I was worried about.

I was standing by the bus, watching the medics carefully take some of the kids to the ambulance to check them out when I was surprised by a hand on my shoulder and a quiet voice.

"Are you Ian?" I heard. I turned and saw it was a very tall Mountie.

"Yessir, Ian Dunlop," I said nervously.

"You did a fine job of getting help, Ian. When things calm down a bit, I'd like to talk to you about what you saw. You might be the only reliable witness to the accident."

"Oh ... okay. Uhhm, I'm supposed to be home by now. My mom might be worried about me."

"What's your phone number? I'll call them and let them know you are safe and helping us in our accident investigation. I'll drive you home when we're done."

"Oh ... okay."

We went over to his car and he made the call. In a real calm voice he said where I was and that I was helping him with his investigation into an accident. I could just imagine my mother wondering what the heck was going on and asking a million questions. I saw the policeman smile a couple of times, so it wasn't all bad. He explained what had happened and wanted to take my statement while it was still fresh in my mind. I guess Mom asked to talk to me, so the constable handed me his microphone.

"Ian, are you alright? You weren't injured in the crash, were you?"

"No, Mom. I wasn't on the bus when it happened. I just got some of the kids who got off with me out of the way so they wouldn't get hurt."

That seemed to calm her down and I handed the microphone back to the policeman.

We sat in his car while he wrote down what I told him. We went through what happened just as I saw it and I could see him nod and write down most of what I told him. I mentioned Mrs. Davidson and using the two-way radio, checking on the kids and then checking on the car driver. It seemed like he wrote down almost everything I said.

"You've had quite an afternoon," he said with a smile as he closed his notebook. "How old are you?"

"Twelve, Sir."

He shook his head. "Son, I know people in their thirties and forties who wouldn't have had the presence of mind to do what you did. Your parents can be very proud of you, and I'll be the first to tell them. Now, let's get you home."

I'd never ridden in a police car before and my eyes were constantly flicking around, looking at all the stuff he had in it. The police car was way different than my dad's car. He had a couple of radios and bunch of other stuff that I couldn't figure out what they were for.

We pulled up in front of my house and I could see Mom and Dad looking out the window. The policeman walked me to the door and introduced himself to Mom and Dad. We all came in the house and he talked to them about what had happened.

"I don't ever recall a youngster of Ian's age being so composed and effective in a crisis situation, Mr. and Mrs. Dunlop. From the time he got the youngsters who'd alighted from the bus out of harm's way, until he went through the bus, helping both the driver and the other children, keeping things calm. Then he identified a serious situation with the driver of the car and radioed it in. There wasn't another thing he could have done that he didn't do. You can be very proud of Ian."

I didn't know what to say, so I just stood there, looking at Mom and Dad as they beamed with pride.

"Thank you, officer Dupuis. We are very proud of Ian," Dad said, putting his arm around my shoulder while Mom kissed me. Uhhg!

"He told me he thought he would like to take a first aid course so that if he was ever in this situation again, he'd know what to do. I can guide him in the right direction. He's a little young for a full-fledged course, but I'm confident we can give him the basics for now until he's old enough for a complete first aid certificate."

"Thank you, officer," Dad said again, holding out his hand. "I'll make sure he finds the time to take that course. It's a very handy thing to know, even around the house."

The officer said goodbye and left, with me heading for my bedroom to get ready for dinner. I looked at the clock and saw it was almost seven o'clock and I'd missed dinner.

"Mom, can I get something to eat? I'm starved."

"You can have anything you want, Ian, but I have some beef stew on the stove and I know that's one of your favourites."

"Yeah ... that's great." Life was back to normal, or so I thought.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / First / Slow /