Part 1 - Chapter 1: Life Begins and Continues a bit

A Chapter by cad

Wilhelm comes into existence

Contrary to popular belief this is not going to tell a creation story; this is purely the beginning of the life of Wilhelm. It was the 20^th of October 1973 and Julia, her husband Robert and their dog Terry (short for Pterodactyl) had just attended the opening ceremony of the Sydney Opera House whilst holidaying in Dubai. They all went back up to their hotel room and, whilst Terry was running himself a bath, Julia and Robert made love. Unfortunately, however, no contraceptive was in sight and humans sometimes find themselves incapable of restraint, and so this wasn’t stopping them. As Robert ejaculated messily inside the body he was temporarily using as a centrally-heated docking station, he knew that little Wilhelm was on the way. He just knew it. And, surprisingly enough, he was correct and nine months later Surrey Hospital greeted the arrival of baby Wilhelm Terrence Fry. Some reports on the subject tell of Julia’s screams during her 19 hour labour that her baby had better be cute or he wasn’t worth all this; others tell of the naming of the child as a punishment for nine months and nineteen hours of “torture”. Safe to say Wilhelm was, in his parents’ eyes, a mistake. But then again so was owning a Ford Escort and they still drove it to the hospital on that Universe-changing Tuesday morning.

By the age of 3 Wilhelm was reciting his father’s record collection in alphabetical order, once having taken a look through the entire rack and finding a picture of a rather large-and-bare-chested ginger woman leaning over a Ford Escort in between Abbey Road and 32 Minutes and 17 Seconds with Cliff Richard and, although at the tender age of 3, Wilhelm knew that his mother was neither ginger nor so large-chested, nor, indeed, very much into leaning, at least not over Ford Escorts. This experience had scarred and burned the records he then sat there thumbing through into his mind for about a week before his father realised what had happened, bought him a bag of Jelly Babies and asked him not to tell his mother and suddenly all was well once more.

On Wilhelm’s first day of school he was picked on and he still, for the life of him, can’t figure out why: he showed all the boys his collection of yo-yos and all the girls his ability to cry on cue in front of teachers to get hugs, and he wasn’t the only one with a movie-star haircut, although the teacher had seemed shocked to learn that he’d given himself the Travis Bickle look in the bathroom with nail clippers, and for some reason the other kids didn’t find all of this cool. Throughout his time at junior school Wilhelm suffered no less than on this first, fateful day, but he grew used to it; he saw the jibes as affectionate and thought of himself as above those whom people liked.

Godalming was an interesting place for such an important being to exist. Godalming, if you don’t know it, is a fair-sized town in Surrey, England, an hour or so away from London. It keeps to itself except when the Land Rovers start spewing down its small country roads, and it has no business tampering in the affairs of the rest of the Universe, at least as far as the Universe (and Godalming) are concerned. Of course this is all just conjecture - in reality we all, including residents of Godalming and the surrounding area, know that no such place actually exists except in the imaginations of those who have never been there. How silly we all must be.

At age 12, like many other boys, Wilhelm first became interested in girls. He, however, saw himself as ahead of the other boys as he had already gained much experience in the ways of ladies: his older sister had once had some friends over and he caught them all naked comparing pubic hair length. He, of course, had no older sister (nor any pubic hair for that matter) and his friends all knew it, but he didn’t know that they knew it so he was content when they all laughed whenever he told the story, he thought out of admiration.

Rachel. Ah yes - Rachel. Rachel Murray. Shoulder-length brown hair, shallow green eyes, budding pimple-like breasts, a voice that could turn a mouse off cheese and more freckles than you could shake said mouse at. This was Wilhelm’s first love. Well, I say love, I really mean that he spent entire lessons thinking about sticking his hand up her ever-shortening skirt and, for the first time ever, being able to fathom what lay between her elephantine thighs. Not that appearances matter. Wilhelm sat across from Rachel in Maths and always stuck his hand up as high as he could (a whole two inches higher than his competition for Rachel, Scott Murray, who Rachel would later screw behind the wall in the teachers’ smoking area before running away together and getting married at age 17; a marriage in which Rachel thought it necessary to change her name to Rachel Murray-Murray yet to this day will not say which Murray is first) and answered every question as correctly as he could, which was usually more correctly than the teacher. Every time Rachel would roll her eyes as if to say “Oh, Wilhelm, I want you to be my genius!” or at least that’s what he thought.

At 15, later than most, Wilhelm discovered the miracle of male masturbation and spent boxes of Kleenex thinking about Rachel’s now more full breasts, as he still hadn’t discovered what lay between her thighs, or those of any female for that matter. As this is such a taboo subject for some I won’t dwell on it for long apart from to say that it still remains one of Wilhelm’s favourite ways to pass the time, although not so often over Rachel Murray any more.

Wilhelm was kicked out of school at age 16 after starting a rebellion against the “fascist regime of examinations” to which he was being subjected; a rebellion which included only him. He quickly gained a job at the Godalming bookshop, a job that he would hold for 20 years. My, isn’t his life interesting so far?

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