Body Swap with Sister's Boyfriend Ch. 04

As always, Chad and Lachlan's eyes went to Dakota's D-cup breasts and her long legs, before she vanished around the corner and back to the juice store, where a long queue of mainly young men soon formed waiting to be served by the stunning blonde with big tits.

"I'm glad Richie's got the weekend off this week," said Chad, he and Lachlan rearranging a display of computer games.

"Yeah, me too," said Lachlan. "I don't know what was up with him yesterday, it was like he turned into a whole different person."

*

Like Lachlan and Chad, Doug Mitchell was wondering what the hell was up with his son.

Doug had attempted to engage in conversation with his son all the way down to the Gold Coast, mainly talking about the family but Richie did not seem to have any concept of the extended Mitchell family. Troy, heeding Richie's advice of mainly keeping quiet and agreeing with people when confronted with unfamiliar things, had done just this, but it had only fueled Doug's suspicion. This wasn't Richie at all.

Exiting the Pacific Motorway at the same road where the real Richie had exited on his drive to Surfers Paradise the night before, Doug turned into a quiet road and stopped.

"Richie, I thought you might like to drive the rest of the way to Gary and Cheryl's house," said Doug. He got two L plates out of a bag and put them on the car. "You need to get some practice before you re-sit your driver's test."

"Sure Dad thanks," said Troy, changing positions with Doug and taking the wheel, while Doctor Mitchell sat in the passenger seat and became even more puzzled.

Doug was used to driving with his two teenage kids and had been concerned about Richie's nervousness when learning how to drive, his son always nervous and overly tentative. But today Richie showed no signs of being a learner driver and drove the car competently. He wasn't perfect, there were signs of inexperience, but Richie was driving more like a teenager who had had their license for a number of years. It was similar to the way Dakota drove.

The puzzled father felt even more disquiet as Troy drove towards Southport. His son knew the general direction, and it was pretty easy to navigate given the high rises of Southport were clear on the skyline. But upon reaching Southport 'Richie' appeared to lose all sense of direction. Doug knew very well that Richie knew the way to his aunt and uncle's house, but today Richie seemed clueless and lost about the route and Doug had to give him detailed directions.

Arriving and Gary and Cheryl's house, again the dismayed Doug looked on as his son stared at the dwelling as though he had never seen it before. Yet Richie had been here many times.

"So here we are Richie," said Doug.

"Yeah," said Troy. "It's um, ah, a real nice house."

"Richie, are you sure everything is okay?" Doug asked. "You're not sick, or worried about something. These last few days you haven't seemed yourself. You can tell me. I am your Dad, and a doctor."

"No Dad, everything is fine," Troy tried to assure his girlfriend's father, who seemed anything but convinced.

"I see Mum and Dad are here already," Doug commented when he noticed his parents' house, as he and Troy got out of the car and collected some of the food and drinks they had brought along for lunch out on the boat.

"Yeah," Troy agreed, trailing Doug to the front door.

Gary Mitchell answered the door. "Hi Doug, hi Richie, what a great day to go out on the boat," he said enthusiastically.

"Yes, after all that rain on Thursday night," said Doug.

"It was really heavy here," said Gary. "We'd better make the most of this nice weather, I heard there's another big storm coming in late on Sunday afternoon."

"Hopefully it won't come in before Grandma's birthday celebration," said Doug.

Troy was looking around the entranceway of the house, impressed by how spectacular and neat everything was. Gary looked at his nephew and the experienced judge/barrister immediately sensed something seemed off. Richie was looking around the place like he had never been here before, yet his nephew had visited plenty of times in the past.

"Everything okay, Richie?" asked Gary.

"Yeah, um, good, okay, great," said Troy, nervous about having to pretend to be Richie with this branch of the Mitchell family he barely knew.

Four other people joined the Mitchell brothers and Troy. These were Gary's wife Cheryl and their son Jack, and Doug and Gary's mother Betty and father Bob. Troy struggled to remember them from Dakota's eighteenth birthday, but struggled at this challenge having met so many people that night.

Troy however was very impressed by Cheryl. The stunning and petite woman aged in her mid-40s was dressed a treat in a short little summer dress that went well with her shoulder-length blonde hair. No wonder Dakota had such good looks with women like Cheryl in her family. It did not occur to Troy that Cheryl was Gary's wife and as he was Doug's brother, Dakota and Cheryl Mitchell were not blood relatives.

Bob Mitchell was tall like his sons with thinning grey hair and glasses, while his wife Betty had curly grey hair and glasses, her stern expression reminding Troy of the school librarian who had given him a dressing down for allowing the dog to chew at a library book he had borrowed.

As relatives they all talked naturally, Troy feeling very much on the edge and trying to blend in as best he could.

"So I ran into Dakota and her boyfriend in Surfers last night," said Jack to Richie.

Troy tried to sound casual. "Yeah, they said they were going there last night."

"Your sister's boyfriend seems to have a good memory," said Jack. "He picked me out in a crowd when I was on my break from work. I've only met Troy once before."

"I think Troy's real good with names and shit like that," said Troy, the young man becoming aware immediately that the atmosphere in the room had changed, Richie's relatives shocked that he had used the word 'shit' in front of his grandmother, and that he didn't seem to be himself today.

"Sorry, I meant stuff like that," said Troy.

Keen to change the subject and stop his son saying anything else stupid, Doug turned to his sister-in-law. "So Cheryl, I hope you and your sister have fun with Mum on your girl's day out shopping."

Cheryl nodded. "Yes, we always have fun."

"That we do," said Betty. "It's so nice that one of my sons married a girl who is like a daughter to me."

There was an awkward silence, fortunately this time not caused by Troy. It was well known in the family that Betty absolutely adored the pretty little law student that her son Gary had met at university, but had absolutely no time for the tall blonde dentistry student who wore skirts too short for her own good who her medical student son Doug had started going out with at university. In something of a paradox Jodie and Cheryl Mitchell actually got along quite well, but Jodie could not abide her mother-in-law and the feeling was completely mutual on the part of Betty.

At the family matriarch's birthday coming up on Sunday, the amount of words spoken between the mother and her son's wife would probably be zero. It was fortunate that Betty Mitchell did not know that Jodie had sucked her son off the night before when unable to have full sex due to her period.

The missing member of this branch of the Mitchell family - 18-year-old Ashley - made her appearance to break the tension. If Troy was impressed by Dakota's aunt he was even more impressed by her cousin. Stunningly attractive and slim, Ashley had inherited the recessive red hair gene that seemed to run in the family and had been passed on to Richie as well. Her petite figure was clad in clothes for ballet, and she gave her uncle and cousin a friendly wave and greeting.

"Hi Uncle Doug, hi Richie," she said.

"Hi Ashley," said Doug.

"Yeah um, hi Ashley," said Troy. "So, are you like, going to do a dance this morning or something?"

Ashley looked a bit surprised at her cousin's clumsy way of asking a question he already knew the answer to, but she was polite. "I'm going to my Saturday job, remember I help teach a ballet class."

"Oh yeah, that's right," said Troy, pretending to remember this when of course he did not know at all. "Do you have a lot of girls in your class?"

"We have about forty kids on average," said Ashley. "And they aren't all girls, about a quarter are boys."

"Boys?" Troy was amazed, and his mouth went into overdrive while his brain was in neutral as he blurted out. "Wow, you must have a lot of gay kids around here."

Again, everyone looked at Troy in dismay, wondering what was up with Richie this morning. Ashley, disapproval on her pretty face, said, "The boys aren't gay, Richie."

"They're doing ballet and they're not poofs!" Troy exclaimed, before noticing that everyone was staring at him again and he sought to redeem himself. Not the quickest to think up something to say Troy again blurted the first thing to enter his mind. "Well, of course they're not gay. When I was growing up if I knew a ballet teacher as hot as you, then I would want to do ballet too!"

Silence filled the room. Gary Mitchell stared at his nephew with his sternest expression he normally reserved for serious cases before him in the law courts. Cheryl Mitchell likewise looked at her nephew in the way she did defendants that she tore apart in court. Working in the criminal justice system their entire lives Gary and Cheryl were all too well acquainted with pedophiles, perverts and sexual predators and their nephew's totally inappropriate comment about their daughter immediately brought up these suspicions.

Betty and Bob Mitchell stared in shock, as did Jack, speechless that his cousin who had always been one of his very best friends had said something so bad to his sister.

It was Doug who spoke first. "Richie, Ashley is your cousin and she is just 18-years-old."

"Um, yeah, um sorry Ashley, I didn't mean to say you were hot," Troy stammered to the dumbfounded young woman. "Not that you're not hot - you are hot - not to me, you're my cousin so I can't find you hot, but you're hot to other guys, not gay guys obviously, and you'd be hot to lesbians too." Everyone stared as who they perceived as Riche just kept right on digging himself a deeper hole. "I meant pretty, you are pretty, like Dakota and her mum, they're pretty, obviously Dakota is my sister and my mum is Dakota's mum too, but I can say how pretty they are. Like you Uncle Gary, if Jack said to you how pretty his mum - your wife - Aunty Cheryl is, it wouldn't be weird, would it?"

"Richie, please stop talking, just stop talking right now," said Doug.

"Okay Dad," said Troy. Probably it was best to shut up.

"Well, I think we had better all get going," said Gary, still looking at his nephew with great suspicion.

"What a good idea," agreed Doug.

Troy, annoyed at himself decided that he had better try and say something to make amends for his faux pas. But what should this be? He looked at Richie's grandfather, and recalled his conversation with Richie the other night and came up with the perfect thing that would redeem him.

"Um Grandpa, I'm really sorry about your brother, Great Uncle Alf," offered Troy.

"What's that about Alf, Richie?" asked Bob.

"You know, being dead from cancer and all that, it really sucks," said Troy, silence again falling amongst everyone present.

"Come on, let's get you to the car, I think some fresh sea air might do you some good," said Doug, guiding Troy outside and hoping, probably in vain, that his son would not stuff up again.

*

The real Richie in Troy's muscular guise was still stranded up the jacaranda tree with the dog waiting for him underneath, and a paper wasp now buzzing around his head. Richie hoped not to do anything that might antagonize the wasp, as a sting from one of these bad-tempered insect was not a pleasant experience.

Richie hoped that an adult would return to the house soon to allow him to get out of the tree, when Jim, Barbara, Kaley and Dwayne all turned up at the same moment.

Kaley had had a shower at the gym, and was now attired in a Roosters tee-shirt, a short denim skirt and open shoes that showed off her feet, Kaley's toe nails painted red like her finger nails.

"Troy, are you still up the tree?" Kaley asked in disbelief.

"The dog wouldn't let me get down," Richie offered.

"You must have done something to annoy him," Kaley asked. "Did you tease him with his bone or something just as stupid? Jesus Troy, you're a fucking idiot sometimes."

Sam fortunately was interested by everyone arriving home and the dog went to greet them, allowing Richie to climb down out of the tree.

"Troy-boy, you need to get ready, we have to get to Justin's game," said Jim. "Go and put on your football clothes."

"But the game doesn't start until 2.15," Richie said.

"No, not your football uniform you play in," Barbara said. "Your Roosters shirt and trousers, you know you're supposed to wear them on match days."

Richie simply nodded in agreement although he had no idea what Troy's parents were talking about. Going into Troy's bedroom, he quickly found the aforementioned clothes - a royal blue, red and white Roosters' polo-neck shirt, a pair of smart black trousers and black shoes.

The Turner family set off for their first sporting match of the day - Justin's soccer game, which was played at a local oval between opposing teams of boys mostly aged about 16. All keen to give plenty of support to the youngest son of the family and his team, Jim, Barbara, Kaley and Dwayne draped royal blue and gold scarves - the uniform colors of Justin's team the Dolphins - around their necks and put another scarf around the reluctant and bored Richie's neck.

Richie watched the match with the Turner family from the sidelines, the blue and gold uniforms of the Dolphins contrasting with the red and gold uniforms of the opposition team the Taipans. He looked at the soccer ball, a perfect sphere of black and white pentagons and hexagons, and wished that Australian football used a round ball, it would be much easier to handle than the oval-shaped footballs used in Aussie Rules.

The colors of the uniforms were one major difference between the teams, the other was a chasm in skill and ability. Things weren't so bad in the first half with the Dolphins leading the Taipans 3-1, but in the second half the Dolphins ran riot, slamming through eight unanswered goals for an 11-1 demolition of the struggling Taipans.

Justin, the team's star striker, was in devastating form. With one goal in the team tally of three to half time, he cut loose in the second half, kicking five to easily be best afield. And while Turner family were in raptures at their youngest son's skills and superiority on the soccer pitch, Richie could not get excited. Justin was an arrogant and conceited little shit, hardly humble about his achievements today or any other day.

Watching Justin over-celebrate his final goal just before the final whistle, Richie thought that Justin's ego was so big that he should probably move to Perth, as the state of Western Australia was the only state big enough to accommodate it. Remaining in Queensland, Justin's ego would soon fill the entire state and encroach upon the neighboring Northern Territory, New South Wales and South Australia. But even in Western Australia, Justin's unchecked ego would probably soon grow so big it would be pushing on that state's eastern borders with the Northern Territory and South Australia.

Richie looked up and saw a most familiar car pull into the parking lot and an even more familiar person step out - his twin sister Dakota. She had finished her shift and had changed her clothes into a Roosters' tee-shirt and a short white skirt, white sandals on her feet. Her work cap had been replaced by a Roosters' cap, and her long blonde hair was still in pigtails.

After talking with her boyfriend's family for a while, Dakota and Richie left at the conclusion of the soccer match for the Crocodiles vs. Roosters game. Richie climbed into the driver's seat of his sister's car and she drove away, Dwayne, Kaley and their kids following them in their own car. Jim and Barbara would follow soon with Justin, the parents having to wait for him to have a team meeting and change after his match.

"You look so nervous, Troy," Dakota commented.

"Yeah, no um, maybe a little," Richie said.

"Relax, you're a great player, you'll show those arseholes from the Crocodiles how to play," Dakota assured him.

Richie did not share his sister's confidence, but obviously she did not know about the body swap between himself and Troy, and could never know the details.

Getting closer to the Crocodiles' home ground, Dakota pressed the central locking on the car. "Better do that in this neighborhood," she commented.

*

Dakota's caution in locking her car was well-founded. The Crocodiles represented three suburbs that were among Brisbane's worst. Richie looked at the run down houses, many with junk everywhere in the yard as they drove down the road, before passing a shopping center and a railway station, both places where some very dodgy looking people were hanging out, and Dakota had to brake to avoid hitting a man who shambled across the road in front of the car, off his head on ice.

These suburbs had one of the highest rates of public housing in the state, and it showed by the high crime rate in the region. At the center of much of the trouble was a public housing estate just near the Crocodiles' oval. It consisted of some individual houses, some dilapidated three story walk up apartments and at the center three massive tower blocks made of light brown brick. Each block of flats stood at 16 floors high, and were a far cry from the luxury high rise apartments found in Brisbane's inner city or on the Gold Coast.

These housing commission flats were home to some of the worst of the worst, and police, paramedics and child protection workers dreaded any visits there. Richie looked up at the bleak flats as they approached the oval, seeing and hearing a fight break out between the awful people loitering in the parkland that surrounded them and it added to his sense of dread. When developed some 50 years earlier, it was envisaged that the parklands around the flats and other dwellings would create a harmonious environment for residents, but all it did was create plenty of hiding spots for junkies to shoot up, drug dealers to ply their trade, muggers to rob people, vandals to spray graffiti and smash shit up and perverts to do perverted things and a place for people to throw trash. Old furniture, tyres, car parts, empty beer cans and goon casks and numerous other items of junk littered the area, bins had been tipped out and the contents strewn everywhere and birds were scavenging through the rubbish. Graffiti was sprayed everywhere.

The infamous flats were often in the news for all the wrong reasons. Many people had committed suicide from leaping from the rooftops, junkies had fallen to their deaths after getting stoned and tumbling off balconies and quite a number of murders had been committed at the site. A drug dealer thrown off the roof, a female junkie deliberately ran down and killed by a stolen car driven by a vengeful ex-boyfriend and a man who owed money to loan sharks beaten to death with a cricket bat and his body stuffed in a wheelie bin three examples in the past year alone.

The Crocodiles ground was a ground where one could drive the cars in, and Dakota and Dwayne did just this. There was a car park outside too, but adjacent to this were three houses; one derelict and boarded up, another smashed to pieces and a third covered in graffiti with about 30 very unsavory looking young people standing in the front yard. Leaving a car there was risky at best.