Chapter Text
At an old Victorian farmhouse bought by Barry and Phillip Smith, two newly-wed husbands, who work at the university not far from the farmhouse, have invited their young colleagues to join a Victorian Christmas Party. Barry teaches Victorian literature for undergraduate and postgraduate students, while Phillip Smith is a nominee for the Binder Prize two years in a row, and is now a resident at Barry’s University. Their guests at an old farmhouse, which Philip thought would be the best place as a setting for his new novel, are Jude Mitchell and Horace Ninagawa, who teaches German studies and Japanese studies respectively. The old farmhouse was decorated beautifully for Christmas, with beautiful mistletoe balls hanging from the ceiling and lighted Christmas tree in the corner. The food is well prepared, with large roasted goose, sweet potato pie, boiled ham, and some desserts awaited inside the kitchen.
“Well, you know, what happen was like this. It was an old story my grandpa told me, about his friend and the mermaid,” Jude looks serious, “Oh no, Horace-san, you shouldn’t laugh. Nothing’s funny at all.”
“Go on,” Horace smiles, “I’m sorry. I’ve listened to this for a thousand times, but this is the first time you act like this.” Horace chuckles.
“You’re destroying the Christmas spirit Barry and Phil intended to create,” Jude faked his anger, before kissing Horace, “Oh, Horace, just listen. I just don’t have other stories.”
“It’s all right. It’s fine,” Philip smiles, looking at Barry, who’s sitting beside him, “we’re not so serious about this, aren’t we?” If somebody notices, you’d hear the word “we” pronounced emphatically.
“We love to re-create old traditions, so we bring in ghost stories at Christmas, like they did in the old days. I’m sorry for not telling you beforehand. I thought Jude was so filled to the brim with stories, just like Philip, filled up to almost bursting,” Barry smiles, “Go on, Jude.”
“I have so many things to tell, but I’m very bad at ghost stories,” Jude looks worried, drinking once more. Both Philip and Barry could see Jude squirm. They sneakily hold each other’s hands under the table.
“It’s all right. Just tell the story,” Horace pats on Jude’s shoulder.
“All right. It begins with my grandpa and his friends Thomas travelling to a very small village to visit Thomas’ uncle, where they consider their river very sacred, guarded by the invisible mermaids. In the past, anyone who wishes to swim, fish, or use the water from the river, would ask the guardians first. Thomas’ uncle told them to be careful about the river, because of the river spirits. A year before, around Christmas, a hunter was bathing at the river, without asking for permission, and, before he finished his bathe, he saw creatures moving inside the tall grass near the other bank. He swam close by just to observe, and he found beautiful ladies, scantily clad, frolicking in the water. He was quite sure he saw, on their skin, wet, watery scales. People even said that the hunter wasn’t scared, but was greatly aroused. So he just dealt with his desire at the other bank of that river. Later in the evening, he told others about his encounter, and they told him to apologise the river goddess. The sight he saw meant nothing but he would be sent to the underworld, and never to return again. He didn’t believe them. On the next day, he was found dead. His lungs filled with water, but his clothes were dry. What villagers could see, and smell, are the fish scales, and the fishy smell, as if some fish were left to rot there. The bedroom floor was slippery and wet.”
“Aha,” Philip listens attentively. Barry could see him grabbing his crotch.
“So my Grandpa and his friend Thomas went there, asked for permission to bathe, and enjoyed the clear water at their summer retreat. They were swimming and diving happily, talking to passersby. They swam to the beautiful grove a bit further from the village. My grandpa said he needed to take a leak, and sprang up from the river just to pee behind the bush. Then he saw Thomas sitting at a brook not far from him and suddenly smiling sheepishly. He heard Thomas moan softly.”
Horace is trying to suppress his laughter.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Horace pats Jude’s shoulder again.
“Ahem,” Jude gives a death glare at Horace and continues, “so my grandpa tells Thomas to just pee in the forest, not in the water, but Thomas said he couldn’t help it. He really needed to pee.” Barry notices Jude grabbing his crotch. “My grandpa told him to apologise the river guardians, but Thomas didn’t care. Thomas thought the story of the hunter was just a sham. Later, that night, my grandpa heard Thomas scream in his room, so he visited his friend, and woke him up. Thomas said he was drowning in his dream, with scaly hands dragging him into the river. My grandpa told him to calm down and apologise to the river. Thomas did. In the morning the next day, my grandpa was wondering why his friend didn’t come up for breakfast, so he visited Thomas’ bedroom again. Well, what he finds was just a wet floor and a soaked bed.”
Jude drinks the last dreg of his drink, “God, I gotta pee!”
“Hold on, Jude!” Philip urged. “We’re listening!”
“OK,” Jude squirms, while Barry and Phillip see Horace laughing. “Well,” Jude smiles, “my grandpa couldn’t find Thomas, so he opened the toilet door, and finds Thomas wearing his clothes, and spreading his pajamas on the clothes rack. Thomas told him later that he dreamt of being flooded over by the river again, just to wake up wetting himself. So he quickly got out of bed, but he just couldn’t hold it anymore. That’s it. That’s the end of the mermaid story.”
“It wasn’t a ghost story, but it was good,” Philip comments as Horace laughs. The laughter seems contagious, and everyone is laughing. Then, Philip winks at Barry and drinks a glass of cider. Barry does the same.
“I think I’d bring you some dessert. It’s Phil’s Christmas Pudding and my mince pies!” Barry says, gritting his teeth. “Can we keep the best for last, Horace? I know Japanese ghost stories are scary.”
“Sure! Do you need help at the kitchen?”
“Not at all. Just relax and we’ll bring you our dessert.” Philip and Barry quickly walk into the kitchen, no sooner have them seen Jude heading in the same direction, but rushing to the toilet nearby. Philip and Barry can hear very well the thick stream of urine gushed into the modern toilet they have recently furbished.
“Ahhh, I’m very desperate, babe!” Philip winces as Barry is squirming and adjusting the plate of mince pies.
“I know, but it’s gonna be fine, right?” Barry squirms, “you told me last time you saw me pee you were so turned on.”
“Yeah. I know, but this is a little too much,” Philip sighs, “I have never held my pee this long and this much.” Philip hates to pour the brown liquid of whisky upon his Christmas pudding.
“You’ve made the rule that after one story ends we’ll drink a glass of cider more,” Barry grabs his crotch. “We have our last glass left.”
“Yes. I did make that rule,” Philip opens the refrigerator for some clotted cream, “by the way, what do you think of the Japanese man? He looks great!”
“Same here, Phil,” Barry said. Barry and Philip decided to celebrate their Christmas party by inviting a third wheel to their marriage bed, and it seemed Jude was interested. However, it turned out that Jude was engaged to Horace, and brought Horace with him to the party. They are going to celebrate their engagement later tonight at the Christmas party at the film club, where rare films start screening in about two hours. Though Horace had never met Philip and Barry before, they find him friendly, charming, talkative, and well-built, a plus for the handsome, but awkward Jude.
Today it doesn’t just include the third, and the unexpected fourth, wheel, but also their bladder experiment. After Philip admits that he is turned on by Barry’s rush to the toilet and long loud urination after their wedding ceremony, Barry and Philip tries to hold their urine throughout the party, which lasts just about two hours because Jude and Horace are going to the movie. They feel the slight need before the first story starts, and their situation is worsened by Philip’s story of “The Maiden in the Fountain,” a short story he has written very recently. Then, as revenge, Barry begins the tale of the haunted Victorian public urinals. Both stories make them wince, and make Jude rush to the toilet once after the first story ended.They hold on well, but sometimes just hate to wash some dishes with full bladder, or pour water for their guests. They are on the brink of leaking when they hear Jude’s loud piss. They’ve never noticed that the handsome Jude pees a lot and quite frequently. They shouldn’t have held their urine today.